ARCHANGELS FURY

by Moerland, Scott; Clarke, Marnie; Gaspandrei

  As Luke and Balan continued to duel, the archangels killed the rest of the demons one by one. The demons’ number counted for nothing, as the archs’ fighting skills against multiple attackers had been refined over aeons. They were using sub machine guns for short distances and their swords for close-quarter fighting.

  After a long battle the last of the demons fell. Only Balan and Luke were left fighting while the other archs looked on. Balan was channelling all the hatred he could muster into his efforts but blow after blow was blocked and thwarted by Luke. Finally Balan lunged forward with a wild swing at Luke’s head but Luke ducked and swung his sword in a reverse 360-degree swipe, severing Balan’s leg below the knee. Luke sprang upright from a crouching position and used his head to smash Balan under the chin, knocking him down onto his back.

  Balan crawled on his back away from Luke, cursing him. He began speaking in a foreign blasphemous language.

  Luke advanced towards him to finish him off. “When you get back to hell say hello to your master for me.” Suddenly a burst of rounds hit Balan from the side. The young marine he had fought ran in, screaming, “THAT’S FOR KILLING MY FRIENDS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

  “That’s great,” Metatron said. “There’s another one they’re going to try and avenge!”

  Luke, knowing they had escaped with the virus, replied, “I don’t think they’ll bother now. They got away with the virus. They are going to bring a misery to this planet not unlike the hell they came from.”

  After the skirmish the archangels were at a loss as to what to do next. They now knew the demons’ plans to destroy humanity and knew they had to act quickly if they were going to have any chance of stopping the spread of the virus. They could no longer see the demons’ location so it would be a matter of guesswork. Metatron placed his hand on the young marine’s shoulder. “Dillon, you can sling your weapon. We will not harm you.”

  “Yeah, I kind of got that impression!” Dillon replied. “How do you know my name and what are you?”

  “You know who we are,” Luke said. “Your parents brought you up in a Christian family and you just saw us fighting demons.”

  “OK, so you’re archangels. I need to contact my superiors.”

  “You can contact your superiors but after that, you need to come with us,” Luke said.

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Metatron replied, “in all likelihood your superiors will be dead soon and then you will have to answer only to God.”

  “Shit, what the hell is going on?”

  “Exactly that,” Luke said. “Hell! Satan’s best demons have come to earth to exterminate as many humans as possible and you need to get your head around this now.”

  “I will try,” Dillon said.

  “I know,” Luke answered. “Come on, we need to go.”

  Before leaving the four archangels knelt in a circle and linked hands to call upon a seraph for their next orders. As they did this Dillon merely watched, not knowing what to do. After giving them a few inquisitive looks he walked over to the sand bunker and picked up a radio and sent a distress message to his nearest superiors.

  The archangels arose. “Dillon,” Metatron said, “Come over here.”

  As he approached, the four archangels surrounded him, hugging him in the middle as in a group hug, and wrapped their arms and wings around each other. Their eyes began to glow bright blue and the earth began to shake violently around them. As Dillon yelled out, “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?” all five figures began to dematerialise and disappear.

  Back at Jim’s father’s house, Raphael stood beside Jim and Bondy on the porch, looking out towards the vast outback. His eyes began to glow. Then in about a 15-second period they saw the other four archangels and the marine materialise before them no more than 30 metres in front of the house. All five archangels were together again and their glowing eyes began to return to their normal colour.

  Dillon shook himself and tried to regain his composure. “What just happened, where are we?”

  Raphael walked over to greet them. “You are in Australia and you just travelled through space and time. How do you feel?”

  “Unbelievably good, actually,” Dillon said. “I don’t understand; why do I feel so good?”

  “Because you just came into contact with the Holy Spirit,” Luke replied.

  “Whoa! What a rush!”

  Bondy, Jim and his family walked off the balcony to welcome the archangels back and find out the news. Raphael looked at Metatron, who simply shook his head. Raphael placed his hand on Metatron’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you tried your best!”

  Luke said, “Balan is dead. This man shot him after he and I fought.”

  “Well done,” Raphael said. “Sammael and Satan must be pissed by now.”

  The archs and Dillon walked up onto the patio. After the introductions were finished Melinda set about making everyone some coffee while the men got to know each other, exchanging stories.

  Dillon was telling Jim and Bondy about his time in Iraq and Afghanistan. They listened empathetically and then told war stories of their own.

  The archangels mostly listened, sometimes with a sly grin on their faces. They knew that humans, especially men, had a tendency to exaggerate their stories. Although they knew that some of the stories the men were telling each other were not completely true they said nothing. Dillon was the first to change his tune halfway through one of his trumped-up stories, when was making eye contact with Raphael to engage him in the conversation. Dillon then said, “You know all this, right?

  Raphael laughed and replied, “Yep, and then you got your boot blown off and had to walk five miles through the desert with the rest of your platoon with only one boot!”

  “Oh, right, I forgot, do you guys know everything?” Dillon asked.

  “Not everything,” Raphael said.

  “So what’s going to happen now?”

  “The fallen are going to spread an awful virus that is going to kill millions, if not billions, of people.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Jim asked.

  Uriel spoke. “There is nothing we can do until their cloaking powers drop. Then we will kill them and send them back to hell.”

  Jim sighed. “I’ve told my captain everything over the phone and he’s about to address the media. I’ll turn on the TV.”

  CHAPTER 6

  MEDIA CONFERENCE

  In the city Captain Taylor was getting ready to make his statement to the media. He fiddled with the tiny microphone on his neatly ironed ceremonial uniform, feeling more than a bit flustered. Nevertheless, he got his paperwork in order and walked to the podium where an anxious and restless media gathered, eagerly awaiting his news.

  “What I’m about to say is without doubt the most unbelievable thing I’ve ever had to say,” Captain Taylor told the assembly. “I am addressing you not only as a policeman but as a human. As I have recently found out, being a human is something that is more important than we can ever imagine. I haven’t always been a religious man but the events that have unfolded over the past couple of weeks have forced me to seriously rethink this outlook. I regret to inform you that the serial cult killings that have been taking place are not the work of some deranged psychopaths but,” he paused, “But of things that are not of this world. Ladies and gentlemen, there is no easy or more believable way I can say this so I’ll just come out and say it. Demons are committing these murders.”

  At this, the media conference erupted with questions. Captain Taylor waited silently for a time, and then interrupted. “Quiet down please. I am not talking about people who are evil and demonic. I am talking about actual demons. Supernatural beings that are straight from hell.”

  As he said this, a journalist among the media party opened up his video camera and produced a 9mm pistol. He pointed it at Captain Taylor and shot him through the chest. The media screamed and panicked and the journalist sprouted his wings. He laughed as he picked off innocent people one by one. T
he security scrambled to get a clear shot at him but the room was full of people so it was impossible to avoid the frightened and confused crowd. Eventually the demon found the security personnel and shot them, their return fire easily dodged or ricocheting off his wings.

  Back at Jim’s house, the archangels saw the chaos unfold on the television. They jumped to their feet and sprinted for the front door. As they leapt into the air and took flight, their lightning-fast motion created a wind rush so powerful it caused several chairs and tables to fly against the wall and break.

  As the demon continued his shooting rampage his eyes began to glow bright red. He smiled and growled simultaneously because of the fear and carnage he was causing.

  One brave cameraman began trying to film the shooting spree while his journalist colleague gave a running commentary. When the reporter had uttered about two sentences, a bullet went straight through his head, killing him instantly. The cameraman dropped his camera and joined the rest of the confused, horrified crowd, bolting out of the conference room and into the massive corridor.

  One by one, the demon picked off frightened people hiding behind tables and running for their lives. He followed the crowd, who were running down the corridor to the main exit of the building. He reloaded his magazine and continued shooting them in the back as they ran and trampled each other in a desperate attempt to make it out.

  Some people looked back over their shoulders and noticed the demon’s wings, which only added to their confusion and terror. The wings looked like black, layered razor blades and he was swinging them around, deflecting bullets and cutting people with them.

  As the front end of the crowd got close to the main exit of the building the two big doors were flung open from the other side. The people at the front of the crowd stopped in their tracks and screamed as another demon stood at the doorway, blocking their escape. He was smiling, his wings fully sprouted, and aiming a sub machine gun at them.

  With an audible click he switched his safety catch to fire and men and women fell to their knees, covering their faces in fear. One of the men looked through his fingers while cowering on the floor and saw an arm go around the demon’s neck from behind. Then the entire length of a sword and the fist holding it smashed through the demon’s chest. As the sword was withdrawn and the demon fell to the ground, the archangels stood, wings sprouted, swords in one hand and pistols in the other. Their eyes were glowing blue and their faces blazed with fury.

  Raphael picked up the demon’s corpse and, with one arm, threw it across the road, where it smashed into a building. Metatron and the other archangels ushered the survivors out of the building, while Raphael took several leaps over the top of the people, landing in vacant areas. After three jumps with the help of his wings, he landed between the first demon and the fleeing people.

  The demon’s smile turned to a fearful, shocked gaze and he shot at Raphael with the remaining rounds in his magazine. Raphael wrapped one of his rock-hard wings around his front and peeked over the top of it. His wing deflected the bullets and he used his supernatural powers to hit with his sword any that were off target, which ensured no more of the rounds hit the people.

  As Raphael crept towards the demon, the demon began walking backward while reloading his magazine. As he backed down the very wide corridor, his magazine again fully loaded, he resumed shooting at Raphael in frustration. Just as the demon got another five rounds off, the concrete wall beside him shattered as Uriel shoulder-charged through it with the force of a tank. He king hit the demon so hard the demon flew through the air and hit the wall on the other side, collapsing on the ground in a lifeless heap.

  Moments later, the archangels who could see into the non-physical world as well as our world watched as the demon’s soul rose out of his body.

  Just beside the demon a hole straight to hell opened up. The orange light from the fire was glowing from below. The demon’s soul looked at the archangels and Raphael grinned back at him cheekily. “See ya,” Raphael said, wiggling his fingers in a wave.

  The demon was immediately sucked down the shaft and the portal closed behind him.

  The archs walked for some way and then took to the air to fly back to Jim’s place.

  CHAPTER 7

  In an average Australian town’s psychologist’s office the ageing therapist was halfway through his session with Jack Thompson. Jack was a local 32-year-old who had been suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder along with several other psychological ailments for more than a decade.

  The psychologist knew there was no quick fix in sight but did his best anyway.

  “So how are things at home, Jack?” he asked.

  “Not so good,” Jack said.

  “Still having nightmares?”

  “Every night without fail I wake up in a puddle of sweat.”

  “The same dream? About the aliens?”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to know what’s real and what’s a dream,” Jack sighed.

  “We’ve been seeing each other now for quite a number of years,” the psychologist said. “We’ve tried hypnotherapy and long counselling sessions in order to help you function properly and live a normal life. You have made good progress but we still have a fair way to go, Jack, would you agree?”

  “Yeah, I know, and I wouldn’t have needed it if it wasn’t for those fucking grey bastards! I was fine until I remembered what they did to me.”

  “You weren’t fine, Jack!” the psychologist said. “You were having panic attacks for no reason in the middle of the night. I contemplated regressive hypnosis for a very long time and it wasn’t an easy decision to make. After consulting several colleagues of mine, we all agreed it was in your best interest to help you remember what it was that you had buried in your mind that was causing you all the trouble.”

  “Yeah, well, I remember now.”

  “Well, because of the regression I know what you think you remember but sometimes we replace and interpret certain traumatic events in a way that our minds can decipher. The brain is a very powerful thing.”

  “Well it must be because it still seems pretty real to me,” Jack replied.

  “Jack, while under regression, you explained in detail your mind’s interpretation of what you believe happened. I want you to tell me slowly, step by step, what you can remember now, while fully conscious. Start at the beginning, from the first incident when you were four years old.”

  “Haven’t we already been through this?” Jack asked.

  “Yes we have but I want you to tell me again. Who’s the shrink here? It will help you understand what has happened and how you can learn to deal with it. Whether or not this really happened is irrelevant. There is a very small part of the psychology community that actually believes that this is a real phenomenon. I for one believe nine out of 10 of these cases can be explained by other things but that’s neither here nor there.”

  “So what about the other one out of 10?”

  “Well I don’t have all the answers, Jack, but I do believe I can help you. But you have to trust me, so come on, let’s go! Starting when you were four years old.”

  Jack took a deep breath and sighed. “OK, the first time, I was playing in the backyard under the sprinkler when I saw a boy over in the bushes waving for me to come over to where he was. I hesitated at first because he looked weird – like, not-human type weird.” Jack looked regretful but continued his story. “I went over to him and walked down a track and that’s when I saw the ship. The next part is a blur but I remember them examining me pretty much the same as all the stories you hear on television, I guess.”

  “OK, let’s skip forward to when you were an adult, the last time you remember,” the psychologist said.

  “The last time it happened, well, I was asleep out on the homestead when I was awakened by a bright blue light. I could open my eyes but I couldn’t move the rest of my body. I felt completely helpless and at their mercy.”

  “At whose mercy, Jack?”

  “More
like ‘what’. All of a sudden there were five of them surrounding my bed. They just appeared out of nowhere. They were the stereotypical grey aliens. They floated me onboard their ship and did whatever they wanted to me. It was a bit different this time though and at the end of all their little experiments they started giving me images in my head, like premonitions. It was like they were warning me.”

  The psychologist spoke. “Have you ever heard of a thing called sleep paralysis? It sometimes happens when we are in a deep sleep and we get awakened suddenly. Basically your mind is semi awake but you are paralysed and feel very heavy for a few seconds, as if someone is sitting on your chest. Anyway, I can give you some information on it later. Let’s continue. What were these premonitions, Jack?”

  Jack paused and shrugged. “Disasters. Volcanoes, earthquakes, blah blah. There was one where thousands of people just disappeared. Who knows, maybe they really are our friends and they’re trying to warn us, like some of these retards at the abduction support group reckon.”

  “They are not your friends, Jack, if this actually happened in the way you remember,” the psychologist said. “It defies logic to think you can abduct someone against their will in the middle of the night and conduct medical experiments on them, again against their will. No, definitely not your friends, Jack.”