New Wings

by Donna Stanley

  “Listen to that still, small voice—the one that tried to warn you when Andy invited you to go out with him. Whenever you feel uneasiness in the pit of your stomach, pray. And don’t put yourself in situations that will cause you to fall.”

  “Like in a parked car with a hot guy?”

  “Exactly.” Mike chuckled, then looked serious again. “When you feel the Enemy pressing in, remind him of your position in Christ. Say it out loud so he can hear it. Memorize Scripture so you can quote it when you need to use it during spiritual battle.”

  I giggled at the thought of quoting Scripture at Andy in the car and reminding demons out loud that I was a child of God. He’d have driven home even more shaken than when he thought he’d seen a crazed dog.

  “If you command evil spirits to flee, they have to leave. And if you ask God to give us angels charge over you, we’ll come to your aid right away.”

  “So you’re saying I have power to resist the devil. I just need to use it?”

  Mike grinned. “I knew you’d get it.” He stood, then vanished, but a glow lingered, assuring me that he was still here.

  “Can you stay here while I sleep?”

  “I always do.”

  I dove under the covers and slammed my head into the pillow.

  God, I almost got raped tonight because I ignored Your voice. Please forgive me. Make me wiser. Help me to listen to You and resist temptation.

  As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered if Bev had prayed for angels to watch over me tonight.

  “Your mom prays for you, too, you know.”

  She does?

  “She’s put me on assignment many times.”

  This surprised me. Mom didn’t always act like my ally. But if she prayed for me, I was thankful.

  Noxious fumes blew into my face. Green eyes glared at me from above my bed. An invisible force held me down.

  “God, help me—”

  “Quiet,” a spirit shouted.

  I felt an invisible hand cover my mouth. I tried to move my arms and legs, but the force would not let me go.

  “You think your big friend and his angel gang are so strong, but we demons are stronger.”

  “He is called the Deceiver for a reason. He is a liar.” It was the still, small voice again.

  Four more pairs of green eyes floated around my room. The demons then took on various forms. One had the body of a dog and the legs of a spider. The other had a man’s body, but the face was a twisted, rotting piece of skin.

  The faces pressed in closer. I shut my eyes.

  God, do you hear me?

  “We can help you as much as He can.” The high-pitched voice hurt my ears.

  The creatures holding me down shook me so violently I feared I might fall off the bed.

  The dog with the spider legs shouted, “God doesn’t care about you.

  You’re one of millions of pathetic humans who are going to fail over and over and then die.”

  “But I’m going to heaven,” I mumbled.

  “Silly girl.” The voice was deeper, so I assumed the man with the twisted face was talking now. “There’s no heaven. No glory. We’re going to win in the end. We almost won two thousand years ago. Now we’re smarter and stronger.”

  The spider monster spoke again. “Our lord has plans for this town. There are hordes of us in every corner of the city. We’ll take down every person who lives here, one by one.”

  I remembered Mike telling me to call out to God at times like this. I mustered up the strength to yell out, “Jesus!” Since my mouth was covered, it came out muffled. So I screamed the name again inside my head.

  I knew I was in trouble when I saw the menacing shadow lurking in a corner of my dark bedroom. An invisible fist twisted my heart until it felt like it would explode. Unseen hands gripped my mind, paralyzing me with fear.

  The shadow emerged, and I saw a grotesque face with hollowed-out eyes and skeletal features framed by a black cloak. I sensed a fire of hate in its crimson eyes as they flashed at me. I knew it intended to kill me. But I couldn’t move. I was pinned to my bed.

  Its rage enveloped me as it choked me with its bony fingers. My head swam as I gasped for oxygen. Was this the end?

  My eyes rolled back in my head. As I attempted to draw one final breath, I saw a flash of light. I was sure my spirit had departed from my body.

  But as I gave in to inevitable death, the brilliant light lingered. When I focused on it, I recognized Him. The one who was sent to fight for me.

  The one who had promised to battle beside me.

  That’s when I realized that I was not in this alone. And that the struggle was far from over.

  God, where are You?

  “Watch this,” Mike bellowed.

  I opened my eyes and saw a window of light open amid the blackness.

  Mike appeared in an enormous form of his human self I’d never seen before, filling the room. He grabbed the smaller demon by the neck and hurled it out of my room. He disappeared right through the wall.

  When the demon on top of me released me in order to fight Mike, I flew to my bedroom door and leaned against it, recoiling as the demon hissed and slammed into Mike, encircling him with his willowy, bony arms.

  I prayed as hard as I could. Mike’s wings filled the room the way they had the night my father was assaulted. He wielded a flaming sword in his right hand. A trail of fire followed its every swing.

  The remaining demonic creature raged in response, spewing black smoke from its mouth. Mike melted through the wall, taking the tussle outside.

  I dropped to my knees beside my bed and decided to quote Psalm 23, the only Scripture I knew by heart since I’d heard it read so many times at church and funerals. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

  Before I could quote the rest, I began to sing the only worship song that came to mind. “Peace, peace, wonderful peace, coming down from the Father above.”

  God, send backup help if Mike needs it. And please— I heard a knock on my window. The glass shuddered but didn’t break.

  I looked outside. Mike hovered about six feet outside my window. Red and green blood ran down the blade of his flaming sword, dripping off the end as it hung toward the ground. Mike’s chest rose and fell rapidly.

  The demon was nowhere in sight.

  I turned the latch and threw open the window. “Are you OK?” My chest was heaving so hard I could hardly get out another word.

  “I am.” He gasped for another breath. “Thanks for sending backups.”

  “Yeah, I had prayed for that.” I held my hand to my head. “I need to read my Bible more often. And memorize more verses. I want to be prepared next time.”

  Mike gave me a thumbs-up. “Great idea.”

  My phone rang, and Mike disappeared. I grabbed my cell from the bedside table.

  “Liv,” Christina yelled. “Get to Greg’s house, fast! I’ll meet you there.” She hung up.

  What now?

  I grabbed my purse and keys and flew out of the house.

  Chapter 9

  MIKE RODE IN the passenger seat beside Olivia through a section of town filled with bars, adult bookstores, and strip clubs. She parked in front of a red brick house. A glow of light came from the basement window. Olivia sat in the car with the engine turned off and began to pray, waiting for Christina to arrive. Mike dove inside the building, still able to watch out the basement window to be sure his charge was safe. A teenage boy was crouched against the far wall, staring up at an older man. Mike recognized the boy as Olivia’s friend Greg. He assumed the man was Greg’s father.

  Mike knew Greg’s father had always scared Olivia. She’d seen him at she and Greg’s middle school graduation ceremony. He was a large man with a shaved head and tattoos all over his massive biceps, which were about as large as Olivia’s head. Everyone knew that he had an anger problem, and Greg had come to school with a shiner on more than one occasion. He always made some excuse about h
ow he’d run into something, but Olivia had her suspicions. Her heart hurt for Greg. He was the sweetest guy in spite of his circumstances.

  “You little punk!” The older man rubbed his whiskered face, then raised his fist and brought it down on top of the boy’s head. “Don’t you smart mouth me like that.”

  “Dad, please stop.”

  Greg took another blow to his face. More blood spewed from his already fractured nose. He held up his arms to try to block the next blow, but he couldn’t fend it off. His dad’s fist hit him on his left jaw.

  The father threw a lamp, shattering it into pieces, then stormed up the basement stairs.

  Greg slumped over in a sitting position on the floor. His sobs sprayed blood all over his torn T-shirt and jeans.

  Tears pooled in Mike’s eyes. His heart ached for the boy. No wonder he sought the escape of paranormal games and supernatural escapades.

  An old-style telephone with a long tangled cord sat on a table in the middle of the room, the receiver dangling over the edge. Greg crawled to it and placed the earpiece to his ear. “Christina? Are you still there?” His legs wobbled as he forced himself to stand and hang up the phone.

  Mike noticed a glow on the other side of Greg. Facial and body features came into focus until he could see Churiel was facing him. He’d seen this angel around Olivia’s group of friends before.

  “Your blondie is out there praying.” He bowed in greeting to Mike.

  “Yes, I’ve taught her well.” Mike thrust his chest out with pride.

  “Well done, comrade. As you can guess, my effectiveness in this household has not been put into motion until Olivia’s prayer outside.”

  With tears in his translucent eyes, Churiel knelt beside his charge. He wore no armor, only a long white robe gathered at the waist with a golden rope. His long, flaxen hair cascaded over his shoulders.

  Greg bellowed and swung his fist into the dark paneling, creating a hole in the wall. When he’d gathered his emotions, he moved with long steps to the broom closet, where he grabbed a short stool and a length of clothesline rope.

  “This will be the last time you punch me, Dad,” he mumbled. “You won’t ever have to worry about me again.”

  Mike stared at Churiel, awaiting some action. Surely his friend would intervene.

  Greg shuffled into the furnace room and shut the door. A pull on the string dangling from the single light bulb in the center of the room illuminated the dark chamber. With shaky hands he placed the stool beneath the rafter, stood on it, and looped the rope over the beam.

  Mike waited in silence for a signal from Churiel . . . or a miracle.

  Greg tried to tie a noose in the rope. While fiddling with it, he lost his balance. Churiel shoved his foot into the stool and tipped it, toppling Greg to the floor.

  Churiel ginned with satisfaction as he withdrew his foot.

  “Good move,” Mike said.

  The phone rang. The loud jangling sound brought a string of curses from Greg as he walked into the other room to pick it up.

  “Greg?” Mike’s sharp hearing picked up the concerned female voice coming through the receiver.

  “Christina!”

  “I’m on my way. Don’t move. I’m one minute from your house.”

  Greg dropped the phone onto its cradle, wiped tears from his eyes, and returned to the furnace room, where he sat on the tiny stool, staring at the wall in front of him.

  Headlights streamed through the basement window as a car screeched to a halt outside.

  Christina’s face appeared on the other side of the window. Her eyes were red from crying and wide with fear. She tapped on the window.

  “Greg, I’m here! Come to the front door.”

  Mike caught a glimpse of Gideon just behind Christina.

  Greg shook his head and yelled, “My father’s up there. I’m not going anywhere near him.”

  Her face disappeared. A minute later, soft footsteps could be heard coming down the basement stairs.

  Christina peered around the corner into the room. She gasped in shock when she saw Greg sitting on the tiny stool with the noose dangling above his head. She rushed to him.

  “I left as soon as I heard you and your father arguing over the phone. Your back door was unlocked, so I let myself in without knocking. Hope your dad doesn’t get angry.”

  She kneeled on the floor and took his hands away from his face so he would look her in the eye. “How long has this been going on?”

  He shrugged.

  “We’ve been friends since grade school, and you never told me about this?”

  Christina brushed a wisp of hair away from his sweating forehead, revealing a fist-sized area of skin where a chunk of hair had been ripped out. His face was swollen from where he’d been punched.

  She wept. “I’m so sorry. If I’d only known . . . ” She embraced him, and after a few seconds, his arms wrapped around her neck and he sobbed into her hair.

  She rubbed his back. “It’s OK. We’ll work this out. You can come to my house. My parents will let you stay as long as you want. I know they will.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. You’re my best friend. I’m here for you.”

  His sobs subsided, but he continued to embrace her. He twirled his fingers through her red curls. He drew back and searched her eyes for a moment. She kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. Greg kissed her lips. Then he buried his face in her neck. He let out a muffled groan.

  Christina placed her lips near his ear. “I prayed for you on the way over here. It’s the first time I’ve ever prayed that hard. I’m not sure, but I think it worked.”

  “I’m glad you did. You’re my angel.”

  “Well, I’m no angel.” She laughed. “But maybe someone is.”

  Mike smiled. He was proud of the example Olivia was displaying for her friends. He gave Churiel a high five.

  Christina cradled Greg’s face in her hands. “Let’s not focus our friendship on the scary stuff we’ve been doing anymore.”

  Greg nodded, then dried his tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

  She grabbed his arm and helped him stand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  They rose, holding each other’s hands. After ascending the stairs, they quietly let themselves out the back door and walked to Christina’s car.

  Olivia leapt out of her car and wrapped her arms around her friends. “Are you guys OK? I’ve been out here praying. Christina told me to stay in the car when she got here. She wanted to go into the house by herself and have me stay out here just in case she needed my help calling 911 or whatever.”

  Greg’s chin was quivering. “Thanks.” Then his red eyes looked back at the ground.

  Christina grabbed his hand, “Let’s get you out of here.”

  As they drove away, Mike realized his job here was over. The boy was safe. His charge was safe, and she’d prayed like he had taught her. Churiel hadn’t done too badly either, even though all he had to do was kick over a stool.

  Two dark ghouls swirled out the basement window, the same kind Mike had seen at Christina’s house. “We aren’t leaving,” they taunted. “We don’t have to.” Mike knew from experience that demons didn’t have to leave a territory if they had been invited there.

  He slipped away into the night with his charge.

  As I sat in the library at home watching The Notebook, notions of romance clouded my mind. I drifted off to sleep on the couch, fantasizing about “the one” that Mike had told me about.

  “Olivia?”

  The soft whisper sounded like Mike’s voice. I opened my eyes. Blue eyes met mine. They looked like Mike’s, but a dark tempest brewed there.

  I felt his hand caress my arm, then brush against my chin, then move slowly up to my lips. Muscular arms encircled me. This touch was more intimate than I was used to with Mike. Was I dreaming?

  I gazed into his exquisitely beautiful face, framed by short-cropped curls. I felt myself softening under his s
ensual grip. I felt guilty at how much I was enjoying this. But if it was just a dream, I could let this scene play itself out, right?

  I closed my eyes and gave in to his advances, allowing his mouth to explore mine. His hands stroked my back from shoulder to lower hip. His breath on my neck sent my senses reeling. I ached for more.

  Sudden pain shot through my body as his fingers became spikes, digging into the flesh on my arms. The embrace crushed the breath out of me. I opened my eyes, and instead of Mike I saw a creature with dark green veins under his light green skin. Jagged teeth protruded from his mouth.

  I tried to scream but could make no noise. My mouth went dry. My muscles ached as I tried to fight this demon off of me.

  Hot blood trickled from the wounds on my arms. The more I tried to scream, the angrier the monster became, and he dug his claws deeper into my back.

  The creature let out a low growl, and I felt a force moving my legs apart. “Come with me,” its seductive voice hissed. “I’ll make you my queen for eternity.”

  “No!”

  I received another dose of pain. My rib cage felt like it was being crushed. My breath was forced out of my lungs. My eyes rolled back in my head.

  “God!”

  A bright light flashed into the room.

  “Faleilmae el Laidu,” Mike’s voice boomed.

  Mike ripped the demon off of me. The ceiling opened and swallowed the demon, then closed.

  I had no idea what he’d said, but at least I could breathe again.

  I jolted upright on the sofa, gasping for air. “What just happened?”

  “You opened yourself up to a spirit of sensuality pretending to be me.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” I said, trying to sound innocent.

  “What were you doing before you fell asleep?” Mike raised one eyebrow at me.

  “Watching a movie that had—well—let’s just say, some racy sexual scenes.”

  “Remember what I told you about the women in Noah’s day opening themselves up to romance with angels?”

  “Yes.” I looked away in embarrassment. From the start Mike had laid down the boundaries in our relationship and given the Old Testament example of the nephilim.