Angels of War (Angels of War Trilogy Book 1)

by Andre Roberts

  Joan’s dilated eyes caught movement beyond the door. Frenzied, violent movement, as if she beheld a long closed tomb filled with worms engorging themselves with dead flesh. A horrid stench exploded from the rent, sulfur and feces, the coolness within the cavern fled.

  Man sized flies gathered at the door, too fat to fit through the two-foot space. Heat blasted into the chamber, beyond a human furnace ability to crank out, and this sudden assault jolted her from the music.

  “Noooooo.” Joan’s voice erupted in a scream. She drew her sword and leaped from the shelf. Her wings deployed as she shot downward to land before Okura.

  Okura blinked, still groggy and dazed from the honeyed voice, and too slow to react. Joan severed his left wing and delivered blows to each jugular vein on his neck. She cut him enough to bleed him into unconsciousness.

  Blood spurted from the cuts. Okura slapped his hands against both wounds, his eyes fluttered in confusion. Blood seeped between the cracks of his fingers. Okura took a few steps away from Joan and crumpled to the ground.

  Joan turned her attention to the Key and struck the girl on the head with the diamond butt of her sword hilt. The child flopped to the earth unconscious. Her voice silenced. The noise at the ironwood door rose to a fever pitch, driving sudden pain into Joan’s head like an iron spike. She lifted her hands to her ears and screamed.

  General Temeculus yanked himself from his daze once Lucia’s musical voice came to an abrupt end. He caught Joan’s sudden lapse, unsheathed his blade, and raised the heavy weapon above his head to slay her.

  More heat exploded from Hell. The hot shock pulled Joan from the pain wrecking her ears. She caught Temeculus with his sword held above his head ready to strike her down. Joan rolled away from the blow. Temeculus’s heavy sword hit the ground and split a five-foot rent into the earth.

  Temeculus paused, his breathing heavy. He glared at the diminutive woman dressed in golden armor who escaped him. She stood, her wings spread out upon her back. Her eyes flashed white underneath her golden helmet. “Joan, do you think you can stop me?”

  He pointed at the cracked gate. “Confront them yourself, the armies of Hell. They are ready to do battle against Heaven and earth. Drop your sword and I will let you live.”

  Joan grunted. She approached the giant. “You will let me live. I think not, general. The likes of Heaven will never bargain with you.”

  “Then my angel of war. You must die.” Temeculus released a lion’s roar from his mouth and shot forward. He moved fast for his muscled girth. With both hands he lifted his sword above his and struck down.

  Joan parried his blow with her gladius. The general kicked her with his huge booted foot.

  Joan caught the blow in her chest, her feet left the ground yet her wings shot out and caught the air. She pushed herself up and away from the general. Temeculus deployed his huge bat wings from behind his back and gave chase.

  Temeculus lifted his hand. A fireball erupted from the open palm. The agile angel dodged the fiery missile. “You fight against the inevitable.”

  Joan remained silent. She narrowed her eyes as another fireball blasted by. The terrific heat kissed her cheek. Despite the searing pain she attacked with fury. Her sword struck his in an attempt to gain an advantage. The power the demon welded reverberated down her arms like the thrum of a tuning fork.

  Temeculus broke away, a feint before he drove his sword towards her face. He missed, freed a hand and backhanded the angel. Joan whirled to the ground like a dropped brick. “Failure, stand still and die.”

  The strike to her face dazed Joan. She landed hard, surprised at Temeculus’s powerful skills. She spun to her feet and met Temeculus sword with hers. Sparks flew as the two engaged in battle.

  She deflected his blows until their swords locked, their faces drawing inches apart. His red eyes burned with hate. He pushed her away. The monsters at the two-foot crack in the door exploded with mad fury. The plump flies tried to force their way through the small space until thick greenish-yellow ooze burst from their black skin.

  Joan ignored the madness in Hell. She focused on Temeculus and threw herself deeper into the fight against Lucifer’s finest general. Sweat speckled her brown face. The white horsehair plume upon her helmet performed a wicked dance. Firelight from Hell spun off her golden armor in red glints.

  General Temuculus struck Joan in the jaw with his armored elbow. He outstretched a hand, launching a fireball against her chest.

  Joan took the painful blow. The hot blast hurtled her across the cavern. She struck a rocky wall smashing the stone to rubble. The angel landed hard on her face. She coughed up blood. Tears came to her eyes, fire burned her lungs, and the sulfur fumes overwhelmed her.

  She struggled to her hands and knees. Her vision blurred as the general’s heavy footfalls reached her ears.

  “Joan, you can never defeat me. Surrender now, and I will be merciful in killing you.”

  The angel shook her head. She swiped syrupy blood from her mouth with her hand. She rose to her feet. Her knees buckled. She pressed her left hand against the wall to support herself. She pointed her sword at the general. “I’m still standing, bitch.”

  Temeculus’s sword turned red, he slapped the hot flat side against Joan’s exposed neck. Her flesh burned, the crisped skin created a roasted pork stench in her nostrils. The angel screamed and stumbled away.

  Temeculus pursued her and drew back his blade.

  Joan spun to face him, stared up into the general’s cold eyes. He hefted his sword and brought the chipped blade down to cut off her head.

  Joan slipped her head to the left. The general’s momentum threw him off balance. His sword crashed inches from her sandaled feet, his head positioned below hers. She gripped her jeweled sword hilt with both hands, lifted up her blade. Fear rippled in the general’s eyes. She made the cut and sliced off his head.

  Joan withdrew her blade and stepped aside. Temeculus’s headless body hit the cavern floor. Joan staggered forward, reached down and lifted the severed head by its long white hair and faced the door. The howls from Hell ceased. Victorious, the angel flung the head through the open crack and into Hell’s dark domain.

  Joan slid her blade into its scabbard and approached the door. On the other side, Satan stood in full armor and transformed into a dragon. His mouth opened to spew flames over the door. The angel pressed her hands against the cold doors and exercised her power. She forced both sides together until they closed with a resounding boom to muffle the enraged howls from the other side.

  The general’s body evaporated. Steam rose into the air from his remains.

  Joan approached the unconscious Okura and kicked him over on his back. She stared into his placid blood smeared face a good three minutes. Anger and disappointment worked their way into her soul. She hogtied the angel with angelic rope.

  Next, she turned to Lucia and hefted the child over her shoulder. Okura, she lifted like a suitcase and fled from the hole in the earth.

  71

  Joan soared towards Denver with her load and landed inside Mile High stadium. She dropped Okura on the turf without care. She eased Lucia to the ground and stroked the young girl’s downy face. Within minutes, the other angels joined her, along with the archangel Michael. The angels knelt near the child and prodded her awake. Michael stood over the bound Okura.

  “I needed to hit her, otherwise she wouldn’t shut up,” Joan said. Michael placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

  “What of Temuculus,” the archangel said.

  “He’s back in Hell.” Joan gazed at Okura. “What do we do with him, Michael? Can he be redeemed?”

  Michael’s dreamy eyes rolled skywards, his lips pulled down into dour lines. “No.”

  “I’ll put him down,” she said.

  The archangel Michael swept his eyes over the scene around him. Beyond the stadium smoke rolled into the air. Soldiers and civilians rushed into the stadium to care for the dead and wounded. He squeez
ed Joan’s shoulder again. “This is not over,” he said close to her ear.

  Joan nodded. “I understand. We need to destroy Hell’s Cathedral.”

  Michael stared at Okura. “And find his child.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “And kill the abomination.”

  72

  Joan and the archangel Michael stood on a rocky cliff set above Hell’s border. The Lake of Fire roiled far below them. She held a thick golden chain in her left hand, on its end sat the angel Okura, bound with both his angelic wings hacked off. Bloody stumps remained where once proud and powerful wings sat. Blood-smeared feathers clung to the cut ends in pitiful tufts.

  Okura knelt upon the cliff’s edge, his eyes locked on the bright flames below.

  Joan moved next to Okura and stared out across the fiery lake. On the other side, lost souls in the millions scurried about, their shadows cast against the horrors within Hell. Lucifer stood silent amongst the souls with his army close by. She lowered her brown eyes upon Okura. His hate filled eyes met hers.

  “For your transgressions, you are condemned by God almighty to spend eternity in the flames of Hell,” she said.

  Okura grunted and spat at Joan. The spittle struck and sizzled against her clean golden armor. “I’ll meet you again, Joan,” he said. Bloody tears streamed from his eyes.

  Joan nodded. She released the chain, lifted her small sandaled foot, and kicked the fallen angel over the edge. He plummeted to his doom. His end came once he splashed into the liquid torment and vanished underneath the everlasting fires of Hell.

  Joan faced the archangel Michael. Her eyes welled with tears. She saved Heaven and earth but failed to save Okura. She turned her eyes towards Hell’s furious expanse.

  Lucifer, adorned in his black armor and surrounded by his Hell Force, remained motionless. Near Satan, General Temeculus’s body sat ripped apart, the pieces mounted on several spear tips. His detached head screamed in horrific pain, an example to those who followed Satan.

  Joan drew her sword and pointed the blade at Lucifer. She set her mind for more war. Set her goal on making the world right again.

  EPILOGUE

  Before Joan hauled Okura away to hack off his beautiful and powerful wings, before she kicked him into the everlasting fires of Hell. Daisy Lane pulled her aside.

  The two angels, dressed in armor slathered in blood and dried flesh from battle, took a short walk. Daisy remained silent as the two made their way from the crowd, from the camera vans and the stadium packed with people. She stopped. Her eyes glowed a jade green at first, and soon settled down to a mortal green.

  Joan waited for her friend to speak. Her advisor so frank at times Joan wanted to wince at the words from Daisy’s pretty mouth. They faced each other. “Speak your peace, Daisy.”

  Daisy removed her helmet. Her golden hair fell over her shoulders, a contrast against the filth baked upon her armor. “God never intended you to be an angel.”

  Joan slid off her helmet. She held her chin up to her friend. “True. My appearance resulted in Satan’s expulsion from Heaven.”

  “Not your fault, Lucifer’s greed for more power expelled him from Heaven. However, you need to understand something.”

  Joan held her helmet not underneath her arm, but along the edge, the horsehair hung towards the green field. “What? Get your words out.”

  Daisy glanced at Michael who talked to Maria and Owen. Okura remained on his knees, his hands bound behind his back. “God broke his own rules to save you. He denied the other children born of angels. He let them die in the floods. Some are in Heaven, but their faces forgotten to those who fathered them. In fact, some of their fathers are in Hell. Do you know who your father is?”

  Joan shook her head. “No. I don’t.”

  “I know who your father is, Joan. I will not mention his name. Nevertheless, he lost a lot because of you. He pleaded for your salvation from the floods, and from you joining those who dwell amongst the heavenly mansions and Oblivion. To be another face lost and forgotten.”

  “What is wrong with serving our Lord, even being part of the crowd, to walk in eternal peace.”

  Daisy smiled at Joan. “Be warned, since your sudden return a few in Heaven still seek your downfall. Several believe you should not be amongst the angels.”

  Joan sensed heat flush her face, the space above her stomach and between her lungs tightened and ached. “Are you one of them, Daisy?”

  “No my friend. I will give my life for you, as I stood before you during the Battle of Seven Gates.”

  Joan’s eyes shifted from Daisy’s face, her mind reeled at this new problem. She refused to imagine another revolt in Heaven because God transformed one mortal into an angel. “God showed mercy on me. Why do they hate me still?”

  “Their attitudes are not fueled by hate, but what’s fair for all in Heaven.”

  Joan took in a deep breath. The fresh cut grass filled her lungs sweet and strong, yet laced with harsh smoke from the fight. “I seek help from no one on the part of my being a mortal or a heavenly being. Also, I will not be the cause of another rebellion in Heaven. I’ll deal with what must be done in time. Now, Okura and his son are my problems.”

  Joan lifted her helmet, slid on the beautiful object. “Are you with me, Daisy Lane?” Joan raised an open right hand towards the angel.

  Daisy replaced her helmet and grasped Joan’s forearm as Joan grasped hers. “We made an agreement to protect the gate. First and above all, you are my friend. We go down together in glory, or in flames.”

  Joan smiled, her face made fierce from underneath the golden helmet upon her head. “May we meet glory, Daisy,” she said.

  “Glory shall be ours.”

  “Now,” Joan said. “Let’s get this done. Let’s send our enemies back to Hell.”