THE GOLDEN LIGHT
Sariel brought her blade of fire to bear on the darkness entering Walter's bedroom. She moved to stand between the gathering shadows and the man crouched in the corner. “Zylpha, leave now or I may destroy you,” Sariel threatened the coalescing demoness, waving her sword briskly, arcing a trail of flames through the room.
“The Prince has an interest here, angel,” hissed Zylpha once her body became solid. Turning away from Sariel, she stood facing a wall of black and white photos and medals. Without looking away from the war memories, she said to the angel, “When last we met, I recall that it was you who fled.”
“You don’t have any allies this time.” Sariel gestured to the area around Zylpha.
Walter groaned and Sariel felt the pain in all of his bones. “God, let me end my pain. My children will not visit me any longer. They know the cancer will kill me, so I am already dead to them. Why do I have to live with this pain?” He’d muttered a similar prayer once or twice each hour since Sariel had arrived.
Zylpha laughed. “Why are you even here? When he suicides, he’s mine. Your god won’t accept him. For you to take him he has to die of other means and his cancer won’t kill him for months yet”
The dark angel was right. Sariel swung her sword at Walter in frustration. The flaming blade passed harmlessly through the mortal as Sariel knew it would.
“Immortal weapons cannot harm mortals, stupid goodie,” Zylpha said, leaning against the wall. “You do not have the power to cause death. You can only guide a deserving soul to Heaven. You are worthless.”
Spreading her silver-feathered wings, Sariel stepped towards the demoness. “Draw your weapon or leave, I see no reason to parlay with your kind.”
“Honorable seraph won't even attack a demon without provocation,” taunted Zylpha, finally turning to face the angel. “What if I do not leave?” She spread her leathery wings, matching the angel's stance. “What if I do not conjure my blade?”
“Please, God,” the man screamed, drawing Sariel's attention though she knew the man could not possibly perceive either immortal in his room. Lifting his tear streaked face to the ceiling he prayed, “Grant me the strength I need.” Reaching under the bed, he pulled out a revolver. With trembling hands, he lifted the gun only to let it fall from his thin fingers. It landed on the aged wooden floor with a heavy thump.
Sariel felt the evil in the room grow as the demoness summoned her sword, probably hoping to take advantage of the distraction. Sariel didn't even look back at the demon as she batted the black bladed sword aside with her holy blade of flames.
“You are not as skilled as I, demon.” Sariel felt sure that Zylpha could not truly threaten her. “I offer you a final chance to leave or I will be forced to fight and you will be destroyed.”
“Why are you still talking?” Zylpha asked, swinging at the angel’s neck. The flames of the angel's sword spat across the room as Sariel blocked.
“Help me!” The man sobbed audibly, choking on tears and coughing.
“Oof,” the angel grunted. She hadn't seen the demon's clawed foot kick at her. Four trails of gold appeared on the angels white robes where the demonic toes had drawn blood.
“You do not intimidate me, Sariel.” Zylpha laughed, her giggles seemed to multiply in echoes. “He will find the strength to pull that trigger and I will use your feathers for my pil...”
Sariel’s flaming blade cut the demons words short at her throat. As the demon's head fell to the floor, it vanished into a haze of black smoke along with the rest of her body. Sariel felt sadness at having destroyed an immortal. She fell to her knees and lifted her head to the heavens. Knowing instantly that she would be forgiven; she felt joy. She allowed her sword to vanish and crawled over to where Walter sat. He held his gun with both hands, looking down the short dark barrel.
Kneeling before him she looked him in the eye. She saw the clouded grey eyes widen as the man realized that he was not alone in his apartment. Her golden aura reflected in his eyes and the man smiled and set the gun down.
“You come to ease my pain?” The man asked.
Picking the gun up, Sariel shook her head. “I come to bring you peace.” She pulled the trigger three times although the man probably died instantly from the first bullet passing through his brainstem. “Your cancer is not a problem any longer. You will feel no more pain.”
Feeling a sharp pain in her wings she winced as a silver feather fell from each wing: the price for her violation. Sariel would go on for the rest of eternity with two fewer feathers.
She stood in the center of the room and watched, waiting, as the body slumped to the floor. When the glow began, she knew she had chosen correctly. The golden light emanating from the globe rising above the corpse nearly equaled hers.
“Follow me, warrior.” She said, setting the gun on a nearby chair. “We are always pleased to add another to our choir.”
About this story:
This story apparently offends some of the folks who believe in angels and demons. Something about how the angels are not transcended human souls, but a race that god created before creating man.
This is a work of fiction. Period.
I put it in this compendium because I really can’t think of a market for it. There just isn’t a publication out there that this would fit in.
I have a whole fictional universe based on this flavor of religion. Someday there will be more stories from that universe.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wil Ogden was destined to be a wastrel but thwarted fate. During his second junior year in high school he discovered he had a muse and a talent for writing. Despite taking almost a decade to complete a bachelor's degree by changing majors eleven times, he managed to grow up. Along the way he worked as a blacksmith, a record store manager, a candy store manager, too many years in food service, a four year stint in the USAF, and finally settled down into Information Technology, which he uses to pay the bills and support his family of himself, his wife, two sons, a daughter, a dog, three cats, three chickens, a snake, a chinchilla and two parakeets.
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