Chapters 06-10

Chapter 6

Alex and Sandra raced through their kitchen to the garage, nearly tripping over some of the furniture in the dining area in the process. Both of them were worried sick about their daughter and the only thing that they could think of was to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

Jesse's cell phone had lost its signal when his car went under the old tunnel near the hospital. It was so dense that cell phone reception typically went dead when passing through it. If he was going that way, they knew that he too was scared out of his mind because it probably meant that he was trying to beat the ambulence to the hospital. He didn't get a chance to tell them what was wrong other than she had started to get convulsively sick. 

Alex ripped the door to the garage open and instictively slammed the button on the garage door opener. He hit the door opener hard enough that it was a miracle that he didn't break it. The door went up as he jumped down the steps and landed next to the driver's side door. Keys in hand, he unlocked the car like a madman, and Sandra was just behind him, starting to get in the passenger side.

They saw Rick outside shooting some hoops outside as the garage door went up, and he looked bewildered by the noise and excitement. "What's going on?" He looked confused as he held his ball, searching both of their faces for any signs of what got them all riled up.

His mother shouted back at him, "we just got a call from Sara's boyfriend Jesse. She's in the hospital. Now get in the car!" There was no point in making them explain themselves further until they were on their way, so Rick threw his ball into the yard and ran over to the passenger side. Sandra popped her seat back so that he could get into the back seat of the old Accord coupe.

The car's engine roared to life, and Alex sent the car flying down the street nearly taking out the ornery old couple that lived at the end of the row from them. They shook their fists angrily at him, but he paid them no heed because there were far more important things for him to be concerned with, like Sara's health and getting his family to the hospital in one piece.

In the passenger's side, Sandra was quietly, but intensely praying for her daughter's safety. Her hands were clasped together so tightly that her fingertips were turning red. Rick was quiet in the back seat since the situation was so intense. They didn't volunteer any new information once they hit the road, so he just assumed that maybe they really didn't know anymore about the situation than they had already told him.

The car hit a sharp corner and nearly flipped for a moment. Rick wasn't disturbed that much where he was sitting, but Sandra was pulled out of her prayer forcefully and gripped the arm rest on the door next to her. She nearly shrieked in surprise when it happened. Alex, however, was firmly gripping the steering wheel and the stickshift and sent the car flying down the road once it was soundly back on terra firma.

The streets were mostly clear in front of them. Down the road, Alex could see a beat up old Ford Taurus putzing along down the road. There wasn't any traffic coming along the opposite side of the road, nor much of anything down the road in front of the Taurus, so he put the car into third gear and floored the accelerator.

Sandra pulled out her cell phone and placed her handsfree headset on her right ear. Without looking, she hit the verbal command button on the side of the phone and said robotically, "call Jesse." She waited intensely as the phone rang a few times, then switched over to voicemail. She waited a few more minutes and tried again, but there was still no response.

The engine roared like an angry lion and seconds later, he was nearly on top of the old Taurus. With a controlled grace, he jerked the steering wheel to the left, sending Rick's Accord out into the other lane and a moment later was merging back into the right lane before a large pickup truck nearly hit him head on. One thing was sure for everyone in the car at that time.

"Alex" she reached out and grabbed his right leg. "Please... you're driving like a madman. Just get us there in one piece."

"We'll be fine" he said gruffly. There was a touch of edginess to his tone of voice that wasn't normally there, so she didn't push the matter any further.

Half a mile down the road, they passed a gas station with two police patrol cars parked out front. Both of them were empty at the moment, but Sandra noticed that the officers were returning to their vehicles from the convenience store. "Alex, honey, watch out, there are cops parked over there."

Alex looked over his left shoulder and saw them. "Shit!" He muttered it under his breath. One of the cops noticed him flying down the road at high speed and started to rush over to his squad car. Alex wasn't about to give him a chance to pull him over.

"Sandy, are there any back roads that go to the hospital from here?"

Sandra thought for a second and said, "if you make a right just one block down from here, you'll end up on a road that goes more or less parallel to this one. It should dump us out at the far end of the hospital parking lot."

He floored the engine a little more and ducked into a group of cars that were just ahead of him. Alex figured that he might have about ten to fifteen seconds more to get away before those traffic cops got a chance to nail him. When he saw the right turn, he swerved off the main road, nearly wiping out the car behind him in the process because it was following him too closely.

With each passing moment, the tension grew thicker in the car. Sandra was determined to cut through it and bring a little normalcy to the situation. "Alex, slow down. They're not going to catch you now."

Her husband slowly decellerated and sighed, "yeah, you're right." He briefly glanced back in his rearview mirror and didn't see any cops, so he breathed a sigh of relief at the respite that he had been granted. Without taking his eyes off the road, he said, "can you try to get back through to Jesse?"

"I don't think there's any point. If he's in there with her, he's probably got his cell phone turned off because of the hospital rules. Besides, we'll be there in two or three minutes."

Just up ahead of them, they could see the traffic dying down on the road that ran perpendicular to the one that they were on. Alex slowed down and then stopped at the stop sign. After looking both ways cautiously, trying to make sure that there were no nasty surprises around the corner, he pulled across the street and up to the main gate at the hospital parking lot.

The gate machine gave him a time-stamped ticket and let them pass without incident. As they pulled through the parking lot, they noticed that there seemed to be an aweful lot of vehicles parked there today. This parking lot was usually at least one third empty because it was so big and most people prefered the parking garage with its elevators and direct connection to the hospital.

They located a parking space between an old minivan and a Mercedes luxury sedan that was within brisk walking distance of the side entrance of the hospital. Once they parked, Rick and Sandra bolted out and made their way to the entrace. Alex stayed behind for a second, and he didn't know why at first.

Sandra called back to him to get a move on, and he followed them. For a moment, though, he hesitated and looked back to see the police cars going down the road out front of the parking lot. It sent a chill down his spine and he thought, "there but for the grace of God" as he jogged to meet his wife and son who were standing just outside the side entrance door.

**************

The waiting area in the hospital was the normal, de rigeur sanitized, white and all but lifeless lobby that increased the anxiety of many a worried parent. The plants, two small trees kept for some half-hearted flair had seen better days as had the couches that Sandra and Rick sat on. Old and worn out, the leather had grown rough and cracked. The selection of magazines was at best modest, as most of the magazines were a good six months out of date. Rick was bored out of his mind as his dad looked for information on his sister since there were precious few magazines that weren't chick rags.

Both of them could see Alex dealing with a nurse up at the main desk. Sandra was sitting down because she was so numb that she just needed to just let her husband who was seemingly high as a kite on adrenaline handle the situation. Rick was listening to his iPod and praying softly for his sister in the mean time.

At the front, Alex was starting to have enough with the bureaucrats that vexed him. "Look, I just want to know where my daughter is."

The nurse calmly replied in her most professional and mundane tone of voice, "sir, she is being unloaded from the ambulence at the main entrance. We'll take you to her when she has a room."

He was starting to get sick and tired of the bureaucracy behind it all, "no, you're going to take me and my family to her right NOW!"

She started to protest, "sir we can't do that..."

Alex cut her off, "how would you feel if you got a call out of nowhere saying that your daughter was hospitalized?" He searched her face and saw her bureacrat mind starting to whirl with protocol drivel. Alex leaned in and said, "and how would you feel if the person sitting behind the counter acted like it was no big deal that your daughter could have anything from a broken toe to a broken neck, but she sure as hell isn't going to get off her ass and break a rule or two to get you to your kid?"

A security guard started to walk over to them, and when he got over to Alex, he put his hands on his belt near his sidearm and badge. "Sir, what seems to be the problem."

Alex looked over at him with a face full of hurt and anger, "my wife and I got a call from my daughter's boyfriend saying that she is going to the hospital. We don't know what's wrong because we can't reach her. And..." He pointed harshly at the nurse, "this damn nurse can't be bothered to even find out what's wrong with her, let alone take us to her!"

The security guard turned his gaze over to the nurse and huffed. Alex could vaguely hear the guard mutter something that sounded like, "damn bitch causin' trouble again." He looked over at Alex and said calml, professionally, "sir, if you come with me, I'll take you over to the other side and get you to someone who might know where she is."

The guard looked back at the nurse and glared at her. The nurse was a small town yokel who looked like she couldn't give a damn about even doing her job half the time. Sandra pulled on Rick and they walked hurriedly over to Alex. The security guard motioned to a door to their left, and they exited through it. This was the fastest way to get to the main entrance and front desk.

As Rick looked back over his shoulder, he saw the nurse huff and pull a newspaper out from underneath her desk. Sure enough, she opened it up to the comics without hesitation and took a big gulp from a bottle of Coke. What a great use of tax dollars he thought as he and his family rushed to the front of the hospital where hopefully they would get better service.

***********

Along the way, they noticed many rooms filled with people in various stages of treatment. Some were almost ready to go home, while others seemed to be in near mortal danger. The security guard had brought them straight down through one of the main corridors, and that naturallly lead them straight through some of the busier sections of the hospital.

At no point did they see any signs of Sara, which was both a relief and a curse at the same time. Rick couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be a disturbingly high number of people who appeared to be wounded. He couldn't tell if it was the same thing or not, but they there seemed to be some degree of overlap between the injuries that he saw as he and his parents walked down the hallway.

One patient at the end of the hallway was crying and shouting in agony as doctors restrained him. Rick's curiosity was finally piqued when he caught a glimpse of the man on his way past the room. The wounds appeared to be vicious claw marks, and they were bleeding very heavily. Most important of all to his pre-medical school-trained eyes was the fact that the wounds were mostly in the same position he had seen on other patients' bandages.

Each wound appeared to be cut deep into the man's torso. A handful of them were cut along his stomach, the rest were along his chest. There didn't appear to be any real inconsistencies here between the victims. Every one of them had deep claw marks in their flesh that had wrought terrible damage on them.

Rick quickened his pace and rejoined the group where he asked the security guard, "are all of these guys in a hunting party or something? I notice they all seem to have the same type of injuries."

The security guard responded, "I don't know anything about that. All I know is that a buddy of mine who works near the front entrace most of his shifts said that these poor guys all came in about the same time. All real messed up."

Rick went back to thinking about what it could have been, but the guard broke his train of thought with a question. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh no reason. I'm in pre-med, and it's not everyday that you see that many guys come in with the same wounds."

The guard nodded without looking back and pointed them to a door down the hall to their right. "Ok sir," he said looking at Alex, "if you will just follow me to that door, I'll take you to some people who might know where your daughter is." They dutifully followed him, even though for all they knew he could be leading them to the backside of the hospital to unceremoniously kick them out.

The doors flew open as the security guard shoved them out of his way. No resistance of any kind met them, but they nearly did hit Rick on the rear on his way out. They were in the main lobby now, and from where they were standing, they could see an ambulence pulling away from the front. It was very probable that that was the one that had carried Sara here.

Sandra ran up to the front desk and immediately began hounding the receptionist nurse. "I'm looking for my daughter, Sara Lena. What room is she in?"

The nurse was an older woman, and judging from the looks of her she had spent a lot of her life around children. Probably had grandchildren of her own and she empathically understood Sandra's anxiety and fear. She scanned down the list of patients and saw Sara's entry. "Room 34 just down the hallway."

As Sandra started to pull away, she reached out and gently grabbed Sandra's arm and said to her "honey, she's going to be alright. The paramedics said that she just blacked out and felt sick to her stomach. She's not badly hurt or anything." Sandra looked back a bit confused, but relieved at the same time. The nurse finally added, "don't rush or you might end up tripping and ending up in a room next to her." She winked at Sandra and went back to her computer work.

Sandra grabbed Alex and said powerfully, "she's in room 34, now let's go!"

Alex looked back at the security guard and said, "thanks for your help, we appreciate it!" The guard smiled and nodded.

Rick hurried along behind them. They passed several rows of people waiting for help from the emergency room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a woman with dark hair holding a newspaper near eye level. She had perfect skin and seemed to be watching them.

When the woman saw Rick, she smirked at him seductively then went back to reading her paper. A chill ran down Rick's spine because he wasn't quite sure whether it was that woman or not, but if he said anything now he'd cause a scene between her and his parents' reaction. Besides, there were more pressing concerns like his sister's health at stake anyway.

The moment that Rick went through the door, Rashaziet raised her newspaper to cover her face and whispered, "General Mithra, the target is active. I'm monitoring her for now, but it seems that she is already more powerful than I had anticipated."

A soft voice whispered in the air next to her. "If that be the case, then Lord Azriel may yet have use for her. Be patient, Rashaziet. You will know what to do when the time comes." The voice faded into nothingness as ethereally as it had been born.

*************

Sara had been running for at least two miles since she had seen the mysterious woman on her way out across the street. She didn't stop to look back behind her because of the omnipresent feeling that danger awaited her if she stopped fleeing. Jesse's house was a few miles away, and at the rate she was going, she might get there within twenty minutes to thirty minutes. Enough time for her to clear her head.

Ahead of her there was a path through the woods which would lead her to a back road that she often took to get to his house. The worst that she might have to deal with would be a drunken hunter or two; nothing that she hadn't dealt with before. In her previous experiences, they had always just be harmless dirty old men anyway. Besides, they were nothing compared to fallen angels.

The old hard wood trees loomed in front of her, casting an imposing contrast against the nearly desolate field that she had started running through. They were mighty and ancient of days, and there had always been a spiritual vibe about the woods that felt a little odd to her. The hunters loved these woods because of the number of deer that passed through them because they were the densest woods between the mountains in this part of the county.

When she entered the woods, Sara started to slow down a little because she didn't want to trip on rocks or tree roots. Some of the roots had been exposed by years of erosive weather, and on more than one occassion she he nearly wiped out after hitting one that was hidden under a bunch of fallen leaves.

Most of the leaves were still on the trees, their colors were like a painted landscape as far as the eye could see. Rich reds, oranges and yellows littered the canopy and the forest floor. October was normally such a happy time for her because it was cool, the landscape was decorate at its finest and most of all, it was the month of her birthday. This year, however, was more exciting in a terrifying way for her.

Behind her, she heard a rustling sound, and she instinctively ducked behind a tree and peered out from behind it. The source of her momentary fright was a fearsome squirrel who chittered at her indignantly. Breathing a sigh of relief and feeling more than a little bit foolish, she started walking down the trail again. Maybe this was just a sign to her that she was being paranoid, she thought. Whether it was true or not, the thought sounded good to her.

Sara's pace was now slowed to a normal gait, allowing her the luxury to regain her composure to some degree. As she started to calm down, she allowed herself to start day dreaming about her childhood, thinking about all of the time that she, Rick and her friends had spent going through these woods. There wasn't much to do back then, and back then it was safe enough for them to do that. Today, there was no way that her parents or any other parents would have allowed them to play back there without at least one of the fathers present.

A cool breeze blew past Sara, teasing her exposed cheeks, making her think of more pleasant days from bygone years. Up ahead, she noticed a dear was staggering down another trail. It was obvious wounded by a hunter and odds were the hunters were closing in on it. Not being in the mood to witness an animal being shot or to deal with a bunch of drunk hunters, she started to run down the path she was on to get past the hunters before they caught up with the deer.

She jogged down the path and nearly intersected with the deer when she saw a group of men approaching her and the deer. They weren't the normal working class hunters that she was used to dealing with. Those guys gave her a cat call here and there, but knew their limits. These guys were a class unknown to her and she didn't want to take her chances with them.

The hunters saw her trying to get past the deer and one of them stepped smartly down the path to approach her. He was an older man, probably in his mid fifties judging from his nearly bald head, topped with small pockets of greying hair and the old, wrinkled look of his face. The clothes that they wore were all very clean and well kept. They reminded her of the yuppies who wore designer leather on their expensive, ritsy motorcycles that had too many creature comforts for the lifestyle they tried hard to project.

"'scuse me little lady." She didn't look back, and he started to get indignant. The hunter moved closer to her with more powerful steps. "I'm talkin' to you girl." The stench of cheap liquor was on his breath. She knew the difference between the good stuff and the trash that men used when they wanted to get drunk on the cheap since her dad had experimented with both, though not to drunkenness.

Sara tried to step away from the guy, but he intercepted her and grabbed her left arm hard enough to leave a mark. Her muscles ached as his fingertips bored into them. She tried to twist out of his reach, but couldn't. A second later she could see the other guys moving in to see what their buddy was up to.

At first Sara was hopeful that some of the other guys would freak out at their hunting partner for man-handingling a fifteen year old girl, if for no other reason than they didn't want the police to bust their skulls when he got caught. Her hopes were dashed when the closest one stood next to him and started to stroke her chest just above her right breast.

"Hey Randy, what ya got here?" He was skinnier and a little younger than the one who had her locked in his grip. He looked more like a follower than a leader. In her mind's eye, she could almost see him jumping up and down like that guy from Loony Tunes saying "which way did he go George, which way did he go?" 

The others started to surround Sara and she soon found herself caught in a cloud of inebriated testosterone. Flannel and flesh bumped up against her, and her raged began to build up to nearly homocidal levels over what these horrible cads were doing to her. In her present state, the odds were that she would be severely hurt if she resisted, so she tried to force herself to bide her time until they were weak and exposed.

The drunken groping was getting worse by the second, and though she was not innocent, Sara seethed inside over their incredible lack of self-control. In that moment she started to hate them passionately for their lust-driven weakness. It was a feeling that she had never felt before. She would have thought that she would grow wrathful over their violation of her body, but that... was not it. Rather, she found her deepest hatred was reserved for their drunken, lustful, base character.

Oh how she hated it. The darkness and hatred coursed through her veigns like an ethereal blood, filling her with a painful and yet powerful purpose. She could almost feel her very soul starting to slip away! All the while the men moved closer and became more sexual, fueling the hardening of her heart even more.

Between two of the men, there was a glimpse into the woods, and it was then that Sara saw the mystery woman standing in plain sight. Yet somehow she remained unseen by Sara's attackers. The woman had a dark expression on her face and for the first time Sara heard the woman's voice.

It was a clear, soft, deeply feminine voice that spoke with a crystline timber unlike anything she'd heard in a woman's voice before. The voice spoke only to her. "Sara, you must fight back now, or you will die."

When Sara tried to speak, she found that though she heard the words in her mind, not a sound could escape her lips. The men around her joked, jeering at her. They thought she was a mute or something. Rashaziet, however, heard her words. "I can't, I'm too weak. They'll rape me and break my neck if I do it now."

Rashaziet stepped forward, not making a sound in the process. Imperiously, she thundered, "Sara Lena, they will not kill you!" That hit Sara harder than anything the men had done so far. "It is your own blood that will kill you! There are evil spirits at work right now--this very moment--corrupting your angelic blood and turning it against you."

Sara looked at her incredulously. She was almost starting to forget about the men attacking her because what this angelic woman was telling her was so much more important now. Rashaziet continued, "you are not fully human. Part of your blood is from a fallen angel--a servet of the evil one. Though they have no possessed these men, they have influenced them to attack you and take advantage of your weakness. The darkness you feel in the very core of your being is their handiwork!"

Her blood started to go cold, and she put her head down. All she saw at first was a wave of wrinkled old human hands, but then she started to see a slight dark aura about them. There was no denying what was going on around her anymore. She had to do what she had been told.

The older man who attacked her first firmly grabbed her breast, and this was the final outrage from him as far as she was concerned. Sara flung her head back with a fury that scared several of the men and took the one in front of her by surprise. The back of her head smacked against one of the men, breaking his nose in the process. She barely heard him scream in surprise.

A gust of wind blew Sara's hair back away from her eyes and it was then that her first assailant saw her face. He nearly lost his grip when he saw her deep, jet black eyes staring at him, cutting through flesh and blood, marrow and manhood down into his very soul. Sara reflexively flung her right hand at his wrist and squeezed hard. The sound of bone snapping under pressure filled the air, followed by a delayed scream.

She felt blood on her hand, and when the man pulled back his wrist, everyone saw claw marks that cut down almost to the bone. Blood gushed in copious quantities from his exposed wound and he collapsed onto his knees, grasping his wrist and whimpering like a wounded animal. He sobbed furiously and tried to swing at her, but she just ducked and raked him across the chest with her claws.

One of the men behind her reached for her and got a large fistfull of her hair and yanked her back hard. He thought he had her under control until she whirled around and upper-cutted him. Many of the man's teeth were shattered by the blow, and a thin trail of blood dripped down his lips from where his gums had been mangled by the attack. Right as her fist reached its zenith, she turned her hand over and raked the man across his chest. Blood erupted from his wound, and he fell down coughing and screaming. Some of his ribs were almost exposed by the blow.

The wounded hunters were effectively incapacitated by the damage that Sara had wrought on them. The one in front of her had his flannel jacket torn apart, along with the t-shirt underneath it. His clothes were almost as badly damaged as his body was.

Behind him, his companions reached for their rifles that they had dropped. Seeing their buddies mutilated so efficiently had put the fear of God into their wretched souls, and their sense of self-preservation kicked into high gear instantly. They figured that a few rounds from a 30.06 just might be the best way to negotiate their way out of this one.

As the first of them picked up his rifle, Sara pounded on him and flipped him over onto his back. She scratched his face and chest in several places, causing terrible destruction in the process. He was down and out in a matter of seconds like those who had come before him. That close she could practically taste the alcohol that oozed out of his pores, and it only fueled the darkness within her.

Another one came for her at her left side, and without even thinking, she grabbed the rifle that had been dropped in front of the fallen hunter and threw it at her new assailant. The butt of the rifle smacked him squarely between the eyes and nearly knocked him unconscious as it shattered his nose. Tears from the sudden blow welled up in his eyes, and they were joined by a crimson trail that boldly announced his injury.

Sara lept off her subdued quarry and threw a kick deep into the man's abdomen. He dropped the rifle and doubled over, coughing and starting to cry as he clutched his stomach. Sara reached over and threw his head back with her left hand, then promptly through a punch that nearly broke his jaw.

She picked the man up and brought him face to face with her. The middle-aged man wetted himself when he looked into her eyes. He looked at her skin and saw that it was so soft, so smooth, that he could almost see some sort of reflection in it. As she forced him to meet her gaze, he searched for some sign of humanity in her eyes but found none. They were cool, dark and rich. Perfectly they reflected his sin back onto his very heart and in that moment he got his first inkling of what divine judgement might feel like.

The man sobbed at her, "oh God, please don't kill me!"

Sara moved her head closer, so close that he could feel her breath on his face when she spoke, "kill you, you miserable old pervert? Who said anything about killing you?!" She leaned back just a bit so he could better see all of her dry, emotionless face. Never had he seen a look as cold, cruel and indifferent to human life as what he saw on her face now. "If I were to kill you, what would be the fun in THAT?!"

He started shaking violently, uncontrollably and she squeezed him hard with both hands. He felt her talons start to slice into his shoulders, and he shrieked in pain and fear. That elicited a smile from her, much to his horror. "You think I'm a monster?" She looked at him inquisitively. "You?! Just look at you? You're older than my dad and you grab my tits like you're still in high school!"

The man started to plead for his life, though he doubted that it would amount to anything, "oh God... oh God... oh God... I'm sorry, please don't... I'll... do whatever you want. Please just let me go!"

She was vaguely amused by how things had turned out. A would-be rapist had gotten more than he'd bargained for. "What do you think YOU can give me?"

"I... I... have money. I'll pay you... buy you a car... jewelry... anything you want... just let me go and it's all yours!" He sobbed and closed his eyes, waiting for her to engage in some sadistic act upon his flesh.

To Sara's right, the sound of a gun's bolt sliding forward was heard by both of them. It was the other hunter, and he had his rifle aimed at her head. "Bitch, put Jake down now or so help me I'll blow your brains out!"

Sara looked at him with a deep contempt, and he added forecefully, "so help me God, bitch, I'll blow your fucking head off if you don't drop him now!" He was the only one in the group who'd not become a victim of Sara's wrath, and he quite clearly had no intentions of becoming one anytime soon.

Sara dropped the man and pushed him back onto the ground away from her, then turned to face the man with the rifle. He was more rugged looking than the others. A bit older than the rest too, she'd have guessed. Judging from the way that he held the rifle, he'd probably been in the military or law enforcement at some point in his life. There was a degree of control and confidence that had in aiming the gun at her, not to mention that he held her at gun point the way she'd seen soldiers and cops do in the movies.

The man started walking toward her. "Down on your knees, now!" There was a rustling sound behind him, but he didn't pay any attention to it.

Sara shook her head and smiled provocatively at him, and said pointedly, "behind you!"

"You think I'm going to fall for that one?" He spat at her and added, "bitch, I ain't that dumb."

One of the other hunters rolled over and wheezed, "Nate, watch out..." He hacked and wheezed, and Nate ignored him. His friend added through pained, labored breathing, "ya dumb sonofabitch, there really is someone coming up behind ya!"

The man peeked over his shoulder, only to see an imposing figure marching hard and fast toward him. She was wearing a long black cloak, with raven-colored hair. Her eyes and skin were exactly like the girl he had his gun trained on. This mysterious woman was taller and looked older, and she was coming right for him.

Nate turned to aim his rifle at her, but Rashaziet grabbed his rifle. In one motion she pulled hard, pushed back, jamming the butt into his solar plexus, then finally ripping it out of his hands as he tried to catch his breath. She growled at both of them, "this is over NOW, all of you. Sara, you will come with me before you do anymore damage!" Rashaziet grabbed Nate and flung him over Sara's head, and he landed on his back over ten feet away from her. He nearly took out two of his buddies as he landed.

Rashaziet grabbed Sara's arm, and pressed her hand against the seal that had been burned into her arm. A pale white light surrounded Sara's body, and she felt her darkness and rage start to slip away, oozing like oil out of her onto the ground.  Rashaziet was furious at her, and she could see her skin and eyes return to normal in the illuminated reflection of herself in Rashaziet's eyes.

Sara's energy started to leave her, and she collapsed into Rashaziet's arms without warning. Rashaziet scanned the area and glared at the men who were lying on the ground. She muttered ominiously, "don't think that your day won't come." While they continued to train their eyes on her, Rashaziet unfolded her wings and took off. Within seconds she had cleared the forest canopy and was making good time toward Jesse's house.

The tree tops provided decent enough cover for them, as Rashaziet soared over them. They looked like a giant patchwork hung over the landscape, and Rashaziet's dark form was quite a contrast to the fall leaves. Still, few people would even stand a chance of noticing them anytime soon.

Above them soared a flock of tiny birds flew over them, creating a fluid, constantly change cloud of activity above them. Rashaziet scarcely noticed them, as she was flying at full speed now. Every exertion of her wings put nearly unbearable strain on her because she was trying to limit that amount of time that she would have to spend in the air lest any humans notice her.

The sun was still clear and crisp, leaving a warm feeling on her back as its rays gently built up their energy on her. The days were starting to get shorter, but the sun still held its sway to some extent. Rashaziet climbed several feet into the air to get a better view of the landscape ahead of them, and could see Jesse's house on the corner of the road that was just a few tenths of a mile away from them.

They were rapidly starting to lose the relative protection afford to them by the trees, and before Rashaziet knew it, she was flying clear over the road. A single vehicle passed beneath them, and for a second she was almost convinced that they had been seen by the driver when the SUV started to slow down.

With Sara firmly pressed against her chest, Rashaziet made several powerful thrusts with her wings and started a powerful descent toward the border of Jesse's backyard. In her mind's eye, Rashaziet knew that she would be seen very soon if she left Sara out in the backyard, so she decided to just drop her off here.

The grass quickly went from a detailed texture to a blur as Rashaziet made her descent. She almost crashed when she finally touched down on the border of Jesse's family's yard, and she absorbed the bulk of the impact. Sara cringed subconsciously from the vibrations that went through their bodies, and Rashaziet lightly laid her down on the grass on her back. 

As soon as Sara was laid out straight, Rashaziet sweeped her hands across the air over Sara's unconscious body, and the blood stains faded away from her clothes. Only a few grass and dirt stains were left behind, so no one would have to be the wiser as to what really happened. Sensing that her time was almost up, Rashaziet stood up and simply vanished into thin air. Her form melted away like a ghost into the ethereal plains between worlds.

************

Sara had been left alone on the grass for only a few minutes when Jesse saw her. He noticed her when he was cleaning off his dishes in the sink from the big sandwich that he had just finished eating. Jesse blinked several times in astonishment, then realized that he wasn't seeing things. His girlfriend was in fact laying unconscious in his backyard!

Jesse dropped the glass that he was soaping up and slammed the faucet off with his right hand. His heart beating fiercely in his chest out of concern for her, he raced through the dining room which was between the kitchen and the back porch and ripped the porch door open. Without thinking about his own safety, he jumped off the porch, which was about a half a story off the ground, and landed several feet beyond his house on his hands and knees.

Pure adrenaline nearly clogged every veign and fibre of Jesse's being at this point. Sweat was building up on his neck and forehead, his heart was pounding hard in his chest and the world seemed to be moving in slow motion. Later he wouldn't even be able to remember much of anything in between the time he saw Sara and took her back up to his house to lay her out on the sofa. All he could think about was getting her safely inside since she looked like she had been through hell on her way over to his house!

Jesse's arms were shaking when he scooped Sara up into his arms. He was a pretty spindly guy, but had enough muscle to haul her across the yard. Each footstep he took felt like the pound of a drum, and he could feel his heart racing as he cradled his limp girlfriend in his arms. He made his way up the steps on the porch and through the open door on the back porch. The wood thumped loudly under his feet with each step across the deck.

Once inside the house, Jesse cut several corners to make it to the living room as soon as possible. All alone in the house, there was no one to impede him or ask him what was going on, which was a blessing and a curse for him all at once right now.

He never tripped over one of his many video game controllers that he had laying out on the floor. For most of the morning, he had been playing video games. Starting with some classic games, he jumped right into the sixteen bit era of gaming and then into playing on his XBox 360 which he had just bought a few days ago. Jesse lightly cursed under his breath when he felt the controller snag on his foot and he nearly dropped Sara. The thought of that happening send a cold chill through his body.

Jesse kneeled down in front of the main black leather couch that he had been playing video games on and gently laid Sara out. After leaning back for a second, he grabbed a throw pillow and put it under her head to support her neck and head in case she were injured. He checked for a pulse, doing the best emergency medical examination he knew how, which was admittedly not saying much.

With Sara resting on his couch, and appearing to be in at least a semblance of stable condition, Jesse started to pace back and forth in the living room trying to figure out what to do. After several minutes of deliberation, he decided that the only thing he could do was to call 911 to get an ambulence out here.

He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone, and when he found it, he punched in 911 and hit the send button. After three rings, an operator picked up.

"911, please state your emergency." Her voice was detached and professional.

"My... my girlfriend is hurt. I don't know what happened. I was just playing video games and eating lunch... and when I went to the kitchen I saw her outside in my freakin' backyard!"

"Please calm down sir" she said in an almost monotone voice. She wasn't sure if the kid wasn't just playing a trick on her.

"Listen to me, dammit!" Jesse was beside himself. "I have no friggin idea what happened to her! Please, just get an ambulence out here!"

"Sir, you are aware that it is a crime to make a false report to 911..."

He snapped at her, "I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!" Jesse nearly screamed it at the top of his lungs, and he could feel himself nearly on the verge of tears out of a sense of powerlessness to protect Sara. Angrily he growled at the 911 operator, "just get me the god damned ambulence or so help me I'll drive her myself."

The dispatcher could tell that either he was very serious or an incredibly convincing actor. Not wanting to take the chance that he really was telling the truth, she asked him "what is your address?"

"7501 Redstone Corner Drive." He barked it at her.

She responded monotonally with a surly bite, "an ambulence will be there shortly. Have a nice day." Jesse nearly threw the phone when he heard her abruptly hang up on him.

Jesse spent twenty painful minutes alone with Sara, watching her closely for any sign that she might be coming out of it, but none was to be found. From the side couch, he watched her breath in and breath out slowly. Her breathing was a little bit labored, but that could just as easily have been allergies as a sign of injury he thought. It was also what he hoped. He really just wanted to hear the paramedic give her a breathalyzer test and say that she was drunk as a skunk. Have it all be over, and just a stupid mistake on her part.

He clenched his cross and his fingers shook a little as he fingered the soft, golden crucifix. The metal was cold and smooth on the tips of his fingers, which were a little bit sweaty from apprehension. Jesse raised the cross timidly to his lips and kissed it as he prayed silently to God to make everything right.

For a moment there, he thought that he should call her parents, but then he asked himself what would he be able to say to them? It would only serve to scare them and upset them, and he'd be just best off calling when the ambulence was in sight. Maybe then he would have more information to share with her parents, than "uh, hey, uh... your daughter was passed out in my backyard and I have no freakin' idea what's wrong with her. Ambulence is on the way... could be serious or could be something stupid..." He chuckled darkly at that and it made him a little angry. What was he supposed to do?

Jesse walked back across the room to his girlfriend and checked her temperature. It seemed normal, just like her breathing, so things might be okay soon. As he got up and started walking back toward the other couch, he heard a siren coming down the road a way's down from his house. He hopped over several video game controllers strewn out across the floor and cracked open the blinds. Sure enough, an ambulence was on its way to his house.

Jesse looked back over his shoulder and saw that she was still out of it. He clapped his hands very hard to try to rouse her, but it didn't work. There was now no doubt in his mind that she was unconscious, and it would be important for him to be able to say that with confidence to the paramedics.

As he stood in the foyer, he glanced back at his girlfriend with a worried expression on his face, and then opened the door. His hands felt weak from fear, and a thin layer of sweat was left on the doorknob where he had touched it. The door took a little force to open up, but it didn't get in his way when he ripped it open.

The ambulance was on its way now, and he walked down the brick porch and steps that were immediately in front of his door. To his right were old iron rails that formed a perimeter around the front porch and steps. His mother had left several rows of discretely placed potted plants all along the sides, giving it a garden-like feel or sorts.

The cries of the siren were getting closer, and so he ran out into his yard to meet them. He waved his arms wildly, almost violently, to get their attention to ensure that there wouldn't be any easily avoided foul ups. Upon seeing him, the ambulance sped up and swerved into his drive way.

Two men dressed mostly in white jumped out of the ambulance and greeted him. The one in the passenger's side jumped out and ran over to him, asking him with an official-sounding tone of voice, "is this 7501 Redstone Corner Drive?"

"Yes it is. Come on, she's inside!" Jesse started running toward his house, and he overheard the paramedic behind him shout to his partner to bring a stretcher. 

Jesse was up and over the steps and inside the house before he even realized it. Behind him, the paramedic came running into the house. He gently brushed Jesse aside and knelt down to start examining Sara while his partner brought in the stretcher. The paramedic checked her breathing and pulse, and both of them seemed to be fine. When got back up, he looked incredulous.

"Are you sure she's not just a deep sleeper?"

Jesse shook his head and respond, "I can't get her to snap out of it. I've made a lot of noise and none of it does a thing."

The other paramedic came in behind them, awkwardly carrying the stretcher with him. As he rounded the corner, he knocked it into the wall and nearly knocked over some very expensive trinkets left in the hallway on display. Jesse cringed because he knew his mother would be very upset if that had happened.

The paramedic that had come in with Jesse looked at his partner and said, "alright, let's fix her up and get her over to the hospital."

They laid the stretched down on the floor in front of the couch and laid Sara down on it. Once she was positioned properly, they strapped her arms and legs to the stretcher and started to pick her up. The one who came in with Jesse grunted, "man, she is heavy."

His partner responded between breaths as they carried her around the corner, "I'll say. Girl weighs a hell of a lot more than she looks!"

Jesse watched them carry her around the corner and thought back to earlier when he had carried her in. Now that he thought about it, she had weighed a lot more than he'd remembered. He'd been running on pure adrenaline at the time, so he didn't notice it at the time. She was normally about one hundred twenty pounds, but her bodied weighed a good two hundred easily now.

He was perplexed by the weird things that were going on now. First she'd spazzed out last night online, now this. What was going on? Jesse did the only thing he could do which was to follow the paramedics outside. As they loaded her into the ambulance, Jesse fumbled for his cell phone and called Sara's home phone.

Sara's mother picked up, "hello."

"Hi... this is Jesse... Sara is on her way to the hospital. I don't know what happened. She just showed up out of nowhere and was unconscious in my backyard." His cell phone clicked off because the battery was dead, but he didn't quite realize it yet. "I'll meet you there. See you later."

He flipped his cell phone shut and slipped into his pocket. With his other hand he grabbed his keys and jumped in his beat up old Honda Civic. The ambulance was just pulling out of his driveway as he put the car into first gear. His heart was racing, and he didn't have a clue what was going to come of all of this. He'd just have to follow them and find out.

Chapter 7

Sara lay delirious in the generic, uncomfortable hospital bed. The doctor noted that a few minutes ago, her condition seemed to be a marked improvement over her otherwise comatose state that she had arrived in. In rapid succession he went from test to test, trying to discern any abnormalities, but none were jumping out at him right now.

He scratched the back of his head, just above the base of his neck and shook his head. There did not seem to be any medical explanation for the condition that his patient was in. Cautiously he glanced back at the machines that measured her life signs, and all of the readouts were normal.

In her bed, Sara was squirming gently. A moment ago it had been on the verge of thrashing, and it took two male nurses to secure her in her restraints. Both of the nurses were unnerved by the girl's strength. He examined her frame a little more closely and agreed with their initial assessment that there was no way that this girl should have been so strong. Her arms were spindly, but they carried with them the force of a trained fighter when she swung at them.

The doctor paced around to the base of her bed from her right side where the majority of the equipment in the room was. He scribbled some notes down on his clipboard, but was interrupted by the sound of her speaking.

"Que'Azrael mishtem sorr...sorruntashi?" Her voice was monotone and quiet. He perked up and watched her as she repeated herself. "Que'Azrael mishtem sorruntashi?" The doctor started to walk back over to her side when she began screaming and thrashing violently, "Que'Azrael mischtem sorruntashi! Mishtum sacvash Ishuevah, gazza mishtem prietesh!"

By now she was starting to attract attention, and the two nurses rushed back into the room to help the doctor secure her as she nearly tore the arm and leg restraints clear off the bed. One of the nurses, a young man of about twenty five, tall and muscular was kicked in the chest as he struggled to adjust the strap. He stumbled backward, the wind having been knocked out of him momentarily.

When the nurse regained his bearings, he stormed over and clamped her leg down tight to keep him--or her--from getting further injured. With Sara in nearly a prisoner-like hold, the two nurses bowed out of the room, cursing her under their breath.

The doctor looked down at her with a hard look and whispered, "Sara Lena, you are an interesting one, aren't you?" He paused for a moment and said, "I would love to know what is going on in your mind right now."

Her skin was smooth, very smooth, almost like it had been polished. The doctor had never seen anything like it before in his entire professional career. As best as he could tell, there was still nothing wrong with her, but he just couldn't get past the funny feeling that there was something genuinely unique about her.

He reached behind him and pulled his stool over to the bed next to her and sat down beside her. Notebook in hand, he began scribbling down some of his thoughts. "Patient Sara Lena shows no external signs of injury or illness. All tests conducted so far have been conclusive--nothing out of the ordinary. Patient has shown a remarkable strength during her coma. At one point she was able to kick a nurse at close range with sufficient force to completely knock the breath out of her. Most unusual for a girl who should weigh no more than approximately one hundred twenty five pounds."

There wasn't much for him to go on at the moment, and so he looked up at her, scrutinizing her as he rested his chin on his right hand which was clenched in a fist around his pen. A thought flashed into his head, and he didn't want to lose it so he once again resumed his writing. "While delirious, the patient muttered words in a language that I did not understand. The only word I could make out was 'Azrael.' In addition, my final observation was that she has literally perfect skin. Best I can tell, this young woman has absolutely flawless, unblemished skin which is completely unnatural for someone her age or older."

Thoughtfully he added, "I will put her through a few more tests, starting with a CAT scan. Hopefull that will shed some light on her condition that I have missed through more mundane methods of observation and detection."

Just then a man walked around the corner. He was a gaunt, nearly middle-aged man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Dr.... Moran?" He asked it a little timidly as though he was a little afraid of what he might find. Judging from the look on his face, Dr. Moran could tell that he was probably the patient's father.

Dr. Moran walked over to him and stuck his hand out. "Yes I am, and you are?"

Alex shook his hand, "Alex Lena... Sara's father."

Rick and Sandra walked into the room and introduced themselves. Dr. Moran beckoned them to sit down as he plopped down onto his stool. "I'm sure you're all terrified about Sara. Well, that's understandable, but don't get too excited." He tried his best to wink and smile at the parents who seemed to be barely holding it together. "I've taken a good look at her and so far, there doesn't seem to be anything seriously wrong with her."

Sandra whispered, "why is my baby in a coma?"

Dr. Moran shook his head and said, "at this point it's anyone's guess, but so far the tests have come back normal. I was about to schedule a CAT scan when you came in. If you'll excuse me, I'll get right on that."

He got up and walked over to a phone that hung on the wall next to the door and picked up the headset. The doctor ran his finger down the list of phone numbers for the different departments of the hospital and found the CAT scan operator. He quickly punched in the number and after two rings, a woman picked up.

"Neurology Unit. This is Cathy speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hi, this is Dr. Moran. I have a patient down in room 241 who is in dire need of a CAT scan. She's been comatose now for nearly one hour now with no discernable physical injury or illness. I would really appreciate it if you would book her for the next availible scan and get some people down her to bring her there as soon as possible."

The nurse responded calmly, "sure thing Dr. Moran. I'll give some of the guys a call and they'll be down there shortly. 241, you said?"

"That's right."

She scribbled down the note and said, "alright, I'll get it all taken care of. Have a nice day." She hung up and went about her work, leaving Dr. Moran to contemplate more on the unusual characteristics of her case.

Sandra looked up from her magazine and wanted to use this time now to start to find out what was going on with her daughter. "Dr. Moran, do you have any idea what is going on here?"

He shook his head, and said very severely, "I'm sorry ma'am, I don't have any idea what's wrong with her. Everything we've tested for so far comes back normal. It's probably just a freak thing. We'll hopefully know when the CAT scan results are back."

Ten minutes later, two men from the neurology had arrived and were rolling Sara down the hallway toward the Neurology Unit to get her CAT scan. Sara's family and Dr. Moran waited a few minutes, talking about what had happened, then finally started walking down toward the Neurology Unit. Her family's hopes were starting to recover somewhat, now that some serious tests were about to be done. Time would tell if any of this would make a difference or not.

*******

As they walked into the double doors that separated the hallway from the Neurology Unit, Sandra noticed the spartan nature of the room that Sara was being tested in. A side from the equipment, a desk and some chairs, the room was completely empty. All business, no comforts she supposed.

Ahead of them, a woman who was not quite middle aged stood out front of the room, filling out some paperwork. She had medium length blonde hair that came down to about her shoulder blades. Her face was reasonably slender and attractive, however there were no beauty contests in her future. An ID badge hung down between her breasts on a worn lanyard, and the name said Rn Cathy Rumbeck. Dr. Moran walked over to her and introduced himself to her.

Cathy cordially remarked, "the patient is undergoing her test right now. Why don't you have a seat, and I will get you when she's about ready to be taken out of her?"

That sounded like a good idea to Alex, so he said "about how long will it take before she's ready?"

"Oh... maybe about twenty minutes. We're doing some preliminary testing. If you'll go have a seat outside by the door, I'll get you shortly, sir."

Sara's family walked out of the Neurology Unit as instructed, and Dr. Moran stayed inside for a moment to talk to Cathy. When the family was outside, far enough away that they couldn't be heard, he said, "she's a weird one, isn't she?"

Cathy responded, "I'm not sure what you mean, beside the fact that she's otherwise healthy. That's never happened here before... I'll admit that, but, I don't know. She seems to just be an ordinary teenage girl to me."

Dr. Moran pointed at her exposed skin. "Look at her skin. It doesn't look like any girl's I've ever seen. It's too flawless. You can't see any veins or blemishes. It's completely smooth to the touch as well."

"I'll admit that she does seem to look unusually good, but I'm sure there's explanation for that."

He glanced back at her and said, "on top of that, she's strong. Very, very strong. The girl kicked dale and jim hard when she was being restrained. Sorta like muscle spasms, but they knocked the wind out of jim when he took a blow to the gut. A girl her size shouldn't have been able to make an old ox like jim double over like he got sucker-punched by a boxer. She nearly broke some of the restraints too, even though they were tied down as tight as we could possibly get them."

Cathy looked chagrined. "Huh, well I don't know what to tell you." She looked over through the glass and saw the machine activating. "Well, it looks like we're ready to get this here test started. Why don't you go out there and practice on your bedside manner a little."

"What, you saying I'm bad at it or something?" He looked annoyed.

She laughed and said, "I'm just saying that a man like you can never have too much practice."

He started to protest, but she interrupted him. "Dr. Nathan Moran. Get out of my office and see the patient's family! Some of us have to actually work right now!" After she turned it around on him like that, he resignedly shrugged and walked through the double doors to see the family.

********

Alex looked up from the article that he was reading in the hospital-supplied copy of National Geographic when he heard the double doors creak open. When he saw that it was Dr. Moran, he half-heartedly put his magazine down and sighed. "Any news on Sara?"

Dr. Moran took a seat across from Alex before he responded. Alex and Sandra were sitting next to one another by the door, and Rick was sitting across the hallway in one of the two other chairs there. "I'm afraid not at this point. However this test will give us a pretty good idea of whether or not anything is wrong with her brain."

Sandra asked, "doctor, do you think it's possible that she's been poisoned or overdosed on something?"

He shook his head and smiled, "well it's always possible." He put a lot of stress on the word "possible" to emphasize the point. "But, I didn't see anything that made me suspect that. She's just too otherwise healthy and stable for it to be something radical like that, would be my educated guess."

She nodded and slipped her hand down onto her husband's thigh and gripped him tightly as she laid her head down on his shoulder. Alex stoically put his arm around his wife's shoulder and held her to comfort her. He wasn't letting on about how much he was worried for his daughter's safety in order to be a source of strength and comfort for his family.

Rick mused to himself, where the doctor could hear it, "things sure have been strange today."

Dr. Moran looked over at him and said, "what do you mean?"

"Well, when we were passing through the wing of the hospital over by the second parking lot, we passed a number of men who looked really beat up and a lot of their injuries were... well... just a little too similar for coincidence if you ask me."

Dr. Moran reflected on that point and said, "you know, I heard about those guys when they were coming in. Someone told me that they were beaten up really badly in the woods. Only one of them was actually in enough of one piece to give us some idea of what happened."

Rick looked up at him inquisitively, and so Dr. Moran continued. "He was spouting off some nonsense about a demon-possessed girl beating the stuffing clear out of them. Said it was unprovoked, but if you ask me, guys that liquored up will say anything." He laughed heartily, "kinda makes you wonder how embarrassing it was if half a dozen or so middle age men who are drunk off their asses would feel better saying that they got beat up by a girl!"

Rick lowered his gaze back down to his iPod and muttered darkly, "yeah, I know what you mean. Must have been pretty humiliating." In his mind his thoughts flashed back to him staggering into the bathroom to find his half-naked sister curled up in a fetal position nearly clawing herself apart in horror. 

Dr. Moran was about to ask him what he meant, but when he saw the look on Rick's face, he thought that it might be best to just let this one go. As he reclined in the chair, thinking about what had happened so far, it occured to him just how abnormal the events of the day had been. At least half a dozen men show up drunk, beaten to a bloody pulp and one tells of a girl thrashing them in the woods. Then this girl shows up in a coma, unblemished, and unusually strong for her size.

He put his hands together in front of his face and prayerfully lowered his gaze, thinking to himself. Somehow he had the strange feeling that his patient, Sara Lena, might actually be responsible for what happened to those hunters. Not that it bothered him that much. He could put two and two together. Drunk middle age men sometimes had a way of not behaving themselves around attractive teenage girls like Sara. That's not what bothered him now. All that ate at him right now was wondering what would happen to her.

Several more minutes went by without anyone saying anything, and then the double doors swung open. Cathy stuck her head out and shouted, "y'all are gonna want to see this!" None of them had to be told twice. Everyone scurried into the room in anticipation of what they might find.

When they walked in, Sara was sitting up on the table looking like nothing ever happened. Everyone assembled there was incredulous as to what was happening, as there was no medical explanation for how a young woman could go from catatonic one minute to completely lucid in another. She waved at her family through the glass that separated the operating area from the rest of the Neurology Unit and mouthed, "hey guys" at them. Both of her parents breathed a sigh of relief.

********

Sara's mind was cluttered with dark and dreary images of malevolent visages that taunted her. Ghostly apparitions that danced and melted in and out of her mind's eye, whispering words of discouragement into her heart and soul. It was a psychadelic experience gone horribly awry as the demonic visions entrapped her in her deep sleep.

"Whoooo will you serve, Sara?" They mused openly. Their words were shallow, brittle sounds that sounded hollow and devoid of warmth and anything resembling decency. Their very voices smacked of an archetypal image of wickedness and depravity. Her soul wept and cried out to no avail.

Her arm burned, seering her nerves, where the demons spiritually pried at the wound that Azriel had left on her. The skin was both hot and cold, a dichotomy that existed due to the contrast between the cold, vile touch of the demons and the white hot fire from the forges of heaven that protected her flesh.

She longed to writhe and cry out, but she had no control over her voice anymore and her limbs were bound tightly to the bed for her own protection. "No, stay the hell away from me," she cried out in her mind as familiar spirits cavorted on the periphery of her mind's eye. The agents of the devil were wasting no time in trying to condemn her to servitude.

With each passing moment they grew more and more bold, One of them lunged at her and gouged her. Blood trickled down its fingers and it cooed darkly to others who danced over and lapped at the sanguine suffering dripping from their comrade's finger tips. "Oh yes, this one is strong" one said. "Shall we continue? Her fear and pain are intoxicating. We must have more!"

The attacks grew worse and Sara's pain grew, and along with it the darkness in her soul began to clear its throat for a hearty roar. Where once she was surrounded by lechers, she was now surrounded by the true force that drove them. Her heart beat stronger and stronger; she could feel the blood pumping powerfully. Her senses grew stronger and she could feel a metamorphosis coming.

For another minute she closed her eyes, trying to draw on her last reserves of spiritual strength and faith. The fiendish cackles were still far from white noise in the background. They were not enough to prevent her from hearing and sensing the arrival of a new being in her mind.

A cloaked figure, head hung down, face hidden by shadow with a long, flowing mane of hair pouring out from the hood. The demons stopped attacking Sara slowly and turned their gaze upon the interloper. The newcomer discretely brushed her cloak aside, and placed a gloved hand on the hilt of a sword. 

A slow, deliberate motion unsheathed the sword, causing many of the demons to scatter. The cloak billowed back behind her as two jet black wings unfolded. Wings extended ominously, the mystery woman raised the sword to shoulder level and paused for a moment. Some of the demons felt her penetrating gaze seek them out through the shade of her cloak, and like their comrades, they too scattered leaving only a few hardasses behind.

The mysterious woman's eyes opened fully, revealing a glowing, inner fire. Without warning she charged the demons and launched her attack. The first one fell immediately as it was cut down by her flaming sword. A charred gash that spanned the length of its should down to its belly put it out of commission instantly. Seconds later, the body fell away and burst into black and blue flame, disappearing into a vague stench of sulfur and death.

The two demons that still stood there began their attack, to try and catch the woman off guard, but it was hopeless for them. She dove in between them, and got to them before they ever had a chance. A hard slash from her sword cut the one to her left in half with an almost diabolical grace and efficiency.

The other one reached out to claw at her, but the woman flew up and kicked him in the face. The blow was strong enough that it caused him to reel from the pain. The demon clutched its crushed face with its mottled, disgusting hand and growled ferociously, but to no avail as the woman brought her sword down and cut his head off at an angle. The wounds were cauterized instantly, but at the moment of death his body ignited spectacularly into a ball of blue and black flame just as his fallen comrades did.

With great fear and trepidation, Sara parted her fingers and peeked out to see why the enemy had stopped attacking her. When she saw the mysterious woman standing in front of her, sword drawn and blade ablaze, her arms fell down limply to her sides. It was the same woman (or angel?) that had saved her in the woods from those hunters, and the demons that tried to seize upon her weakness to thoroughly corrupt her.

The woman's sword did not radiate any heat. It was as though there were no fire at all, and Sara didn't know what to make of it. Sensing her confusion, the woman spoke carefully and gently to her.

"Sara, it's all right. They cannot hurt you anymore." The woman's voice was calm and soothing. Before continuing, she began to sheath her sword, and as the blade disappeared into its scabbard, the flame simply vanished as though it had never existed. The woman brushed her hair away, and her face was no soft and loving. Her eyes revealed an inner concern for her. "My name, Sara, is Rashaziet. I am an angel of death, sent to protect you."

Sara was trembling in the void that surrounded them. Her voice was broken and she stammered, "an angel... of... death? Am I... going to die?"

Rashaziet shook her head and replied calmly, "you're in no danger right now, Sara. The enemy wants to get ahold of you, but we are not going to let that happen. You're safe for the time being, and when the time is right, I'll be there to give you your second chance."

"What... I... don't understand." She was confused and delirious from the psychic shock of the attacks that she had suffered. "Why is this happening to me? What's going on?! I don't understand, why me?!" Sara was starting to cry, and her body began to shake uncontrollably.

Rashaziet was about to respond, when her ears perked up. "Oh good, your family is here. Time for you to wake up dear. We wouldn't want them to wait much longer! Farewell, Sara. I'll be seeing you soon!" The angel of death vanished into the blackness of the void, leaving Sara all alone in the little world contained within the confines of her mind.

In a flash, Sara found herself in a white room, surrounded by fancy medical electronic devices whose functions she could only guess at. It was pretty surreal to jump from a void, a void that was like the expanse between the stars minus the discomforts associated with unprotected exposure to the vacuum of space, to what appeared to be some sort of operating room.

She sat up, and the muscles in her shoulders and lower back ached powerfully. Sara winced in pain as she got up and sat with her legs dangling over the side of the hospital bed that she had been spread out on. Her head felt light, and her eyesight was still somewhat blurry, but overall she felt like she was ready to go home. She was ready to forget about everything that had happened to her today.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a nurse walking through the hallway just outside of her room. The nurse happened to glance up and see that Sara was sitting up, looking healthy. She nearly dropped her clipboard in amazement and spent a good few seconds scrambling to keep it from spilling all over the floor. Sara, meanwhile, continued to groggily stare off just vaguely in her direction without much recognition of what was going on around her. There were much weightier things that haunted her mind.

Sara looked down at her left hand, and stared intently. The nails were now longer than they were that morning. Not quite full length, but discernably larger and darker than they had been in the morning. The skin around them, and the skin across her entire hand was smoother and had a mysterious quality about it that she couldn't quite put a name to. She stared, and stared, and stared, but couldn't comprehend the changes that were going on in her body.

The door opened and the nurse came in with equipment in hand, but Sara largely ignored her. She couldn't bring herself to care or feel like she had any control anymore. For the next few minutes she would be subjected to medical tests, none of which would shed any light on the changes that afflicted her now. The world continue to swirl with a surreal, psychadelic sense of vertigo that challenged her senses.

********

When Sara stood in the presence of her family, her mind kept wandering and slipping away from the present circumstances. She felt her grip on reality waxing and waning. Her family tried to talk to her, but she could barely whimper to her dad that she just wanted to go home. He put his arm around her, and she leaned on her father as the family quietly made their way to the front desk to make arrangements for billing. Her mother stepped over to the nurse and gave them some information so that they could leave, and rejoined the group.

They stood outside of the hospital, just outside the doors while Rick went to retrieve his car. When he pulled up, Alex helped Sara lay down in the front seat and rest. He and Sandra got in the back and told Rick to just drive slowly so as to not disturb his sister while she rested and collected her senses.

Off in the distance, a burst of thunder cut through the peace outside in the night. The roads were mostly empty that night, and Rick was safely esconced in the far right lane so that he could drive slowly. A little bit too slowly for his tastes, but that didn't matter. He figured that the sooner he got them home, hopefully the sooner things could return to normal.

Once they were most of the way back home, they found themselves stopped at a four-way intersection. The lights flickered leisurely, and there was a haunting small town feel to the situation. They were completely alone, not a single tell-tale sign that there were any other drives on the road that night where they were. Rick noticed that the air seemed heavy, and the near complete lack of life didn't sit well with him. Instinctively, he reached over and flicked the switch to lock all of the doors. He didn't know why, but at the time it seemed like the appropriate course of action.

The light changed to green, and he put the car into first gear as he started down the road again. In between switching gears, he glanced around him and noticed that the lighting on the streets near all of the shops, save for those at the gas station to his left, were dim or turned off. The town and business owners all had a good track record of keeping things like that maintained, and that added to the precaution that he was already taking.

They passed a collection of shops which had an alley that split the two shopping strips, allowing trucks to go in between them and drop off deliveries. Down the alley, there was barely any light. Out of the corner of Rick's eye, he could make out shapes in the shadows, watching him, but when he turned his head just ever so slightly to verify what he was seeing, there was nothing. Once they passed, there was nothing else along those lines to plague his mind or imagination, so he just tried to forget about it.

Sara began to groan lightly. She was half asleep, and Sandra reached out to her and shook her lightly. "Honey, are you alright?" She was greatly concerned that the doctors missed something.

Sara woke up and whispered, "no, I'm alright I think. I was just starting to have a bad dream."

A few minutes later, they were pulling up into their driveway. Rick parked his car just outside of the garage door, and turned the engine off. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. His whole being felt sore right now, and he looked forward to being able to take a hot, relaxing shower when they got in the house.

Sandra and Alex got out of the backseat, and Alex came around the back of the car to the passenger's side where Sara was still sitting. He opened the car door and reached in to unfasten her seatbelt. Sara leaned forward and stumbled out of the car, nearly hitting the pavement before she caught herself. She stood up woozy and dizzy at first, but after a moment of standing up straight, the fog began to clear from her mind.

Alex reached out to his daughter, and offered her his shoulder to lean on. She lightly leaned on him as they walked around the car to the sidewalk that cut a swath of pebbles through the front yard along the side of the house. The pebbles and stones under their feet shifted and grinded against one another as they leisurely strolled to the front door.

They stood there for a moment while Alex fumbled for his keys. After a moment of groping for them in his pocket, he found them and unlocked the door. With a firm grip on his daughter, he pushed the door open and nearly drug her across the foyer to the chair that was closest to them in the living room. Sara stopped in front of it and slinked down into the chair. She reached over and grabbed the tv remote and turned it on to look for something.

Alex left her to watch tv and went into the kitchen where Sandra was to talk to her. It was about seven o'clock now, give or take a few minutes, and they had to brainstorm how to salvage the day. While he was doing that, he heard the bathroom door in the hallway upstairs slam shut.

He walked into the kitchen and noticed that the air was a little cold and weighed on him a little. Sandra was brewing a pot of coffee and the aroma sent an illusory warmth through the room as it teased his senses. She was rubbing her hands together when he came around the corner, and without saying anything, Alex walked past her to the cupboard for two coffee mugs.

The coffee maker chimed, and Alex, being a gentleman, poured the first cup for his wife, who eagerly drank the sumptuous, caffeinated elixir. It was more than a stimulant for her, it was almost a way of life that brought comfort, security and a sense of familiarity to her life even in troubled times. She held the mug at a constant level, just an inch or two away from her lips, so that she could take in the aroma and warmth that radiated from it.

She peered up over her mug and grimly said to her husband, "Alex, I'm scared. I just don't know what is going on anymore."

Alex started to try to comfort her, but she didn't want him to interrupt her. She shook her head, and he stopped as she continued. "I'm serious, I have been praying about all of this for a while now, but nothing is making any sense. I feel completely abandoned, like God has forsaken us or something." She paused for a moment, then added solemnly, "I've gotta be honest, Alex. I think this is destroying my faith in God."

After a cold moment of silence passed between them, she broken down into tears and started shaking. Alex put his coffee down, and gently took her mug out of her hand, placing it on the counter beside his. With a reassuring firmness, he embraced her, and gently rested her head against his chest. She cried for a long time in his arms, weak and wary of the sort of chaos and uncertainty that the world was sending her way now.

"God never sends us tests that we aren't able to handle, Sandy."

She broke away and looked at him with eyes still red from crying. "I know..."

"None of this is supposed to make any sense, Sandy. We just need to trust in God that He is working this to make us stronger and make our family stronger."

"That's easy for you to say..." she started to turn away from him, and he grabbed her gently, pulling her back around to look at him.

"He has sent one of his angels to watch out for us, Sandy. I've seen her, and she's so powerful she scares the hell out of me. God isn't about to let us get hurt by this."

Sandra nodded weakly, and broke away from him again. She forced herself to stop crying, and reached for the refrigerator door. "We've got a party to throw for our little girl. That's all I'm going to think about now."

Alex smiled approvingly. He was proud of her. So very proud of the strength that she was showing through all of this. He agreed with her, it was time to try to put all of this behind her and force some normalcy back into their lives while they still had the chance.

Sara held her right hand up halfway and started to calm herself down instinctively. With slower, more deliberate breathing she quickly began to reduce her heart rate and get her breathing back under control. As she did this, the talons on her fingers slowly faded away back to regular finger nails. Likewise, her eyes returned to their normal shade of blue. The only catch was they were a deeper shade of blue. In fact, they reminded her of the ocean the more that she looked at them in the mirror.

Her brother stopped his reading and looked up at her. Inquisitively he asked, "is something wrong, Sara?"

"No," she replied confidently, but whimsically. "I think I'm going to try to go for a walk or something."

Rick cocked his eye at her and repeated what she had said, "a walk?"

She smiled innocently and said, "sure, it's a beautiful night."

He sat up on his bed and said, "you were just complaining not five minutes ago about demonic activity in the hallway, now you're going to go walk outside alone after everything that has happened today?" He couldn't believe her behavior. It was just not making any sense to him.

Sara danced around toward the door and whispered, "I don't know why, but after everything that has happened today, I just feel so... so... alive!" She ducked into the doorway and put her arms up on each side, blocking it. Then looking back at her brother she added, "you are welcome to come if you want. You don't have to study ALL of the time, you know!"

Chapter 8

Dinner and present unwrapping had gone by without much fanfare. Sara got a few checks and some small gifts, none of which was particularly noteworthy. After that, they had watched a movie together before deciding to go off to bed. Sara's boyfriend, Rick, had tried to call her, but she wasn't in the mood to talk much so she gave him some reassurance that she was alright. Now, she didn't know that she was alright, but she felt well enough and didn't want to have another person worried about her, so she just assumed that and ran with it.

Laying in bed, she let her mind wander dreamily in the darkness. The moonlight cast a pale glow on the floor in her room, a look that for the most part she enjoyed in a gothic sort of way. Her window was open, not much more than a crack, and the breeze flittered about in her room. Every now and then she could feel it blow her way, but it never amounted to more than a nipping caress.

Her bed sheets were fresh and comfortable, one of the few unqualified good things about the day. Each movement in the bed felt sensual against her skin, as the soft, clean fabric rubbed against her. Quiet and peaceful, she was starting to calm down now. Sara's eyelids grew heavy, and she plopped her head back firmly on her pillow and smiled. A slice of heaven seemed to be hers for at least the moment. Slowly and stealthily, sleep crept up and overtook her.

Sometime later, Sara awoke to the sound of footsteps from someone pacing not far from her bed. She sat up straight as a board, eyes glazed over from exhaustion and her heart beat slowly, but with very hard, deliberate pulses in her chest that nearly rattled her rib cage. Adrenaline began to seep into her system, and the hairs on her neck stood on end. She couldn't see much of her room because the lights were out and there was no light pouring in from outside.

Everything was darker, much darker, than she remember from when she went to sleep. Even her bed did not feel right. Where it had been soft and fresh against her skin, it now felt cold and alien against her skin. A slight chill went down her spine and goosebumps popped up along her arms.

Outside her room, she heard soft whispers. They were devilish and sounded like the chattering of faeries. In hushed tones, in a language that she did not comprehend, they gave her the distinct impression that they were conspiring against her. Some were soft and hallow, others were sharp and malicious. The only word that she could make out was "nephilim."

She leaned closer to where the sounds were coming from, hoping to listen in on more of their conversation. The volume of chittering increased precipitously, and then suddenly dropped into an abrupt hush as though they knew that she was listening in on their conversation.

A long time passed before she heard any noises from outside her door again. This time the voices sounded coordinated, as though they were in agreement as to whatever terrible mission they were bound to perform. From the sounds of their chattering, Sara got a sense of hierarchy, as though one of them were giving clear commands to the others.

Sara pulled the covers closer to her, in a child-like attempt to shield her from the darkness that threatened her. The nascent adult in her told her that waiting for her doom was not the best course of action. She resolved herself to confront whatever it was that hazed her on her terms, not theirs. Her eyes had grown steadily more adapted to the darkness, and she could see her way to the door to the hallway. That her night vision was impossibly powerful compared to what it normally was did not occur to her as a potential cause for alarm.

In one fluid motion, Sara ripped the covers from her body and flung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet landed soundly on the floor next to her bed, and she stormed over to the door. Determined to be as defiant as she could be under the circumstances. Her heart was still heavy from fear, but the adrenaline carried her all the way without much concern for what might await her.

Once she found herself standing at the door, it gained an ominous presence and seemed to loom over her with a life of its own. It no longer seemed like a mere door to her, but rathe rmore like a portal to a different world. Her hand trembled with trepidation as she slowly raised it to the knob. She grasped the door knob firmly, and closed her eyes for a minute while she mumbled a prayer for protection. She had never been good at the whole prayer thing, but it seemed like it couldn't hurt anything to try now.

After muttering "amen" she opened her eyes and turned the knob slowly. When she felt it turn far enough, she slammed the door open, expecting the worst, but surprised by a completely empty hallway devoid of any indications of nefarious activity. The air was bitterly cold, but beyond that, nothing was abnormal about what she experienced.

Sara breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the molding that traced the outline of her doorway for a moment. What was going on here, she wondered. She straightened herself up and started walking down the hallway just to check on the rest of the upstairs to make sure everything and everyone was safe.

Her first stop was at the door to her brother's room. She peeked her head in the door, and found him awake and doing some late night studying for one of his pre-med courses. He didn't notice her until she pulled away from his door, causing the floor to creak under her. Rick looked up, and saw his sister pull away.

"Sara?" She knew that she had been caught, so she came back around the corner and entered the doorway where she could at least stand in the light for a while.

She came in and sat down on the floor in the middle of his room, and her head hung low.

Rick put his book and notes aside and sat up on his bed. Calmly, but firmly, he demanded of her, "what's wrong, Sara?" He knew something was wrong, and he wasn't about to let her get away with keeping it to herself.

Sara looked up and said, "I... I heard voices coming from the hallway, and I got scared..."

Rick hadn't heard anything, but he didn't want to immediately discount what she was saying, "tell me about it." He gave her his best doctor-in-training look to make her realize that even though he had his doubts, he wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Well, there sounded like there were several things outside my door. They were really quiet and hard to understand. I think they were talking in some weird language because I didn't hear any words that I could recognize. They sounded really scary too..." She looked to the side and whispered, "they sounded demonic... like something straight out of a horror movie."

He smiled reassuringly, "sounds really scary, but I bet it's just nothing. Today was a really bad day for everyone. It's probably just your mind playing tricks on you."

"I know what I heard, Rick!" She was upset and frustrated with her brother for trying to tell her something she knew was an insufficient explanation for what had happened. "I was awake the whole time when I heard them!" She started crying, but gritted her teeth, trying to suppress what she was feeling. "I've been having strange dreams and weird stuff has been happening to me... I know it's not normal." She looked up at him and shouted, "I know something is wrong, so don't tell me it was just nothing!"

Rick waved his arms at her, "okay, okay! I believe you..." He glanced away from her for a split second and noticed that his clock read 12:00. It unnerved him, but he didn't know why. Looking back at her, he said, "do you want to sleep on the floor in here or something?"

She nodded meekly, and several minutes passed before anything else was said. Sara made herself comfortable on the floor in the center of the room, far enough away from the door that she didn't feel threatened. She stared up at the ceiling and let her mind wander.

The contours of the ceiling were etched into her mind, and the light in the center of the ceiling fan was right above her. She reached her hand out, and grasped at it, getting a sense that in some small way she could wield the light against the darkness outside of the room. On some level she knew that that was not true, but pretending otherwise gave her an opportunity to indulge in momentary escapism.

Over the course of about ten minutes, they said nothing and Sara continued to gaze lacsidasically at the ceiling. The halo of light that billowed out across the ceiling from the light in the center hypnotized her, rendering her in a conscious dream state. She didn't notice that the light was growing dimmer as time progressed for the same reason that a frog does not notice the rise in temperature when being slowly boiled alive.

It was not until the room had grown noticeably dimmer that Sara began to realize what was going on. Her mind began to sharpen once more, and she found her senses return to full strength. The hairs on her neck told her that something was once again deeply wrong, but her brother seemed unphased. She assumed that he was just so caught up in his studying that he didn't even notice the change in the light. After all, it had not gotten so bad yet that it would be guaranteed to draw his attention.

Sara started to get up off the floor, and every second that she spent propping herself up the intensity of the light in the room dropped precipitously. The shadows crept across the room, melting across the floor with a fiendish speed toward her. The walls began to be shrowded in darkness as well. Shadows rose up like cobras along the walls, and Sara felt like she might be struck at any moment, from any direction by something lurking within the obsidian forms that hovered around the room.

Her brother did not stir at all. Sara looked down at him hard, with a look of fear building on her face as trepidation washed through her veins chilling her resolve, leaving apprehension and self-doubt in its wake. As she looked at him, it suddenly occurred to her that he was frozen in time, just staring at his book with the perpetual gaze that one would find from a statue. From where she was standing, book in hand, he looked like The Thinker laying in a prone position, contemplating a medical textbook instead of hidden truths. Even his eyes were glazed over and unmoving to such an extent that despite having a semblance of life, they betrayed no symptom of what fate had befallen her brother.

The lights never fully went out for that would have made the taunt of the shadows an exercise in futility. That which Sara could not see could scarcely cause her eyes to inflict terror upon her mind. No, the lights remained dim, but function, pouring enough light across the room to make it patently obvious to Sara that not only was she out of her element now, but that she was surrounded by something that she could not explain. The fear that she felt was attavistic, reaching down into her flesh on a rudimentary level that didn't need high falootin reasons for its existance. It is primitive, primeavel, the sort of fear that only the Great and Terrible Unknown could cause, as it tauntily stood like a dark sentinel, looming over the human mind on level as fundamental or more so than the subconscious.

Shadows flickered and moved with a life of their own, reaching out to her then receding away like the tide in the morning. They moved with a clear sentience, and Sara was afraid to move lest she provoke them. The temperature in the room began to cool off, shifting from a vague warmth to a temperature that was somewhere just south of lukewarm. 

This time, however, there was another change in the atmosphere that was worse than her previous incident. The air around her grew heavier, darker, malignant. It was as stifling as any miasma could be, though it was not hard on her lungs. It weighed down her very soul.

In front of her, a shadow began to move with the fluid motions of a serpent, but unlike its brethren, it flowed upward into the air in front of her very face! In spread out before her into indeterminate shapes, like a Rorschach inkblot that possessed a life of its own. It simply stood up in front of her, swaying like a dancer hearing a melody that only it could comprehend.

After some time had passed, The shadow stopped bobbing, and split into several strands, flowing around her body in a swirl that left parts of her covered in pure darkness. Sara did not budge an inch, though every goosebump her body could suffer had responded to revelee, every hair on her body was stiff as a board and fear flowed through her so thickly that she could scarcely believe that there was any room left in her for blood.

The shadow strands swireled around her with a regular tempo, oscillating slighty around her as they moved. They behaved now as though they were simply a force of nature with no intelligence behind them, but that was no consolation to Sara. She continued to stand, too fearful to move lest she disturb the shadows into becoming something more firghtening than they already were.

Eventually the shadows began to break away from her, splitting off behind her. Continuing to not move, Sars stood there motionlessly. Behind her, a shadowy form came together, rising up above her, but not by much. It had a vaguely humanoid figure, as much as could be expected of something born of shadow. The figure stood there in three dimensions, an occurence that would have been otherwise impossible, were it not for the spiritual aspects at play.

She felt cold, dark fingers move across her shoulders, coming down to the nape of her neck. Others followed through her hair, sending frigid, sharp chills through her scalp and the nerves throughout her body. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the pure blackness of the fingers touching her on her left shoulder. Long fingers, too long for a human hand, adorned with what appeared to be talons suitable for rending flesh with ease.

Sara's arms began to shake, and her knees wobbled for the first time in her life. She wanted to scream out to Christ for deliverance, but her mouth would not move. Instead, she hung there paralzed in both her mind and her flesh, incapable of offering the least resistance to the fiend that was preying upon her, and most of all, her fear.

The shadow began to transform once more, and now it flowed without much change around her. The hands never left her, rather the whole body seemed to flow through them, exerting no change upon the position of the hands while the being moved in front of her. The figure just melted through the air, and reasserted its form before her.

The figure that stood before her now was a good six and a half feet tall. It stood a good foot over Sara's head, and gazed down at her. The body was taught and muscular, but only to a point. The muscles were honed for utility, not for show, so its build was not such that it would be overwhelmingly imposing. The other details were few and far between. She did not take her eyes off of the face that gazed upon her with a falcon's attention to its quarry.

The face was smooth, devoid of imperfection. A slender, perfect nose politely protruded from the face, and the lips were full enough to be sensual, but they were otherwise modestly slender. The cheekbones were high, and the beings shadowy hair was parted smartly in the middle. It was the eyes that instilled the most fear.

Since she was little, Sara had heard that the eyes were the window of the soul, and that the light that they revealed would tell you instantly the nature of the person who possessed them. The shadow man's eyes radiated a glittering, glistening blood red light that shone forth with a brilliant malice and predation. They had a peculiar hypnotic effect to them, that softened her defensive impulses, rendering her helpless before him. He exploited this with great delight, enjoying her trance and all of the power that it afforded him. It was undoubtedly the sort of scene that could easily explain the myth of the vampire controlling the beautiful young virgin.

The being's cold, ethereal dark being slid ever closer to her, trapping her in its embrace. On some level she was attracted to the being. It had a roguish appearance to it, a sort of primordial rebelliousness that a mere mortal man could rarely possess. That tendency to rebellion was something that echoed through every fibre of this being's existance, radiating sedition and treason in its wake.

He put its right hand up underneath her chin, and lifted her eyes up to meet his eyes. With every passing seconds, what little distance between them was closed more and more. Soon she found herself in what amounted to a lover's embrace against her conscious will, but something deep in her called out to him. It was not a romantic impulse, but one based on a hateful, depraved, essentially demonic lust. It was something that she had never felt before, and something that she hoped to God she would never experience again.

Sara could feel herself beginning to transform in the creature's embrace. Her blood began to burn with an unnatural fury. Molten depravity coursed through every vein in her body. She could feel her skin begin to transform, smooth and delicate, but stronger than anything it had ever been before. Talons grew out of the tips of her fingers, and her eyes darkened considerably. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on her brother's dresser and saw that the transformation was already remarkably advanced.

The eyes that gazed back at her were not the soft, gentle human eyes that she had once possessed, but dark, jet black reflecting pools. Even her lips had changed, though that transformation was not quite so pronounced. Her lips had grown modestly fuller, and most of all were as smooth as they were the hue of fresh blood. The sum total of her appearance could only be described as more perfect than anything she had been before, but it came with a price. Despite the strength and beauty her countenance now possessed, she also had the aura of a fiend about her.

The darkness continued to assault her very soul from within the deepest, darkest shadows of her being. The shadow man standing before her allowed himself the guilty pleasure of a grin that could only be from a man who considered himself victorious. As far as he was concerned, the battle had been won this day. He reached close to kiss her, to claim her as one for the enemy, but a voice spoke in Sara's mind.

"Choose this day who you will serve."

The words brought her back to her senses long enough to fully grasp what was happening to her. In her heart she realized that she had only one choice left to her, and she closed her eyes while she called out to God in her mind. She did not see it, but the shadow man looked perplexed at this, for by all rights she should no longer be able to resist her fate.

In Sara's mind the moment seemed to slip into eternity. Time itself collapsed into nothingness, and her mind and soul recovered from the infernal assault upon them. The world spun around her, but her frame of reference to it stood still, acting as an oasis of sanity in a desert of madness.

The darkness came under control, and instead was replaced by a cool, flowing power that surged through her body. The beast's control over her had come to an end, and she was once more in control of her faculties. Sara's eyes opened, and the black reflecting pools revealed to the shadow man the vitriolic fury in her heart. She grabbed onto him, somehow inflicting a very real wound on the being, and in one motion pulled him down and thrusted her knee into his stomach.

The shadow man stumbled backwards, stunned, but not very badly harmed. Sara exploited this by charging him, and when in range, striking the right side of his fast with the back of her hand. Being backfisted by her enraged the shadow man, and he began to twist and turn to get away from her, but to no avail. Sara lunged at his throat, as it receded, and gripped it firmly with her hand. The mysterious being stop transforming and writhed in her grip.

A malovolent glare lit up across her face as she him struggle for dear life. Oh how torturous it must have been to know that the tables had been turned on him! She placed her other hand on his face and pushed hard. As she did this, she dug her other hand into his throat and tore with all of her strength. The creature fell over and collapsed onto the floor back into the form of an inconspicuous shadow.

When Sara looked at what she held in her hand, she saw purest black blood coursing down her arm. Though the being she had defeated was born of shadow, she held all too physical gore in her hand. She stared at it, not comprehending what had just happened. The blood, found its way down her forearm and began to trickle onto the floor from her elbow where it formed drops of ethereal gore. After several moments had passed, she noticed that the blood was vanishing, and soon enough it flittered away like mist before the morning sun.

The lights began to flicker in the room, and Sara turned her heard in several directions, looking for signs of another intruder, but found none. This time, the lights flickered, but then were restored to full intensity, and the room was left in a state that would not suggest to anyone that there had been foul play or a small spiritual battle in the room. She looked over at her brother cautiously, knowing full well that this time the transformation was complete. Now she was expecting him to not be able to ignore what was going on with her, and she was afraid of what his response might be.

Rick was reading his textbook, oblivious to what was going on for the moment. Out of nowhere, presumably as the fight had ended, he had been reanimated. Well, she couldn't quite determine what had happened, but for her mind, "reanimated" was enough of description of what had happened since he seemed like a statue before everything osensibly returned to normal.

From his position, at the most all he could see were her legs, and so he nonchalantly turned the page and made some markings on it with his highlighter. He put his right pointer finger under a few words that were of particular interest to him and spoke them aloud twice. The first time was as he read them the first time, the second time served as a memory aid.

Sara held her right hand up halfway and started to calm herself down instinctively. With slower, more deliberate breathing she quickly began to reduce her heart rate and get her breathing back under control. As she did this, the talons on her fingers slowly faded away back to regular finger nails. Likewise, her eyes returned to their normal shade of blue. The only catch was they were a deeper shade of blue. In fact, they reminded her of the ocean the more that she looked at them in the mirror.

Her brother stopped his reading and looked up at her. Inquisitively he asked, "is something wrong, Sara?"

"No," she replied confidently, but whimsically. "I think I'm going to try to go for a walk or something."

Rick cocked his eye at her and repeated what she had said, "a walk?"

She smiled innocently and said, "sure, it's a beautiful night."

He sat up on his bed and said, "you were just complaining not five minutes ago about demonic activity in the hallway, now you're going to go walk outside alone after everything that has happened today?" He couldn't believe her behavior. It was just not making any sense to him.

Sara danced around toward the door and whispered, "I don't know why, but after everything that has happened today, I just feel so... so... alive!" She ducked into the doorway and put her arms up on each side, blocking it. Then looking back at her brother she added, "you are welcome to come if you want. You don't have to study ALL of the time, you know!"

Rick got up off of his bed, and folded a dog ear into the page that he was reading from. Then, he closed the book and put it down on the night stand next to his bed. Without saying anything, he walked over to her, and Sara started strolling down the hallway in front of him. In the darkened hallway, she seemed to flutter and glide along the thick carpet. Rick couldn't quite describe it, but there was something different about her behavior. It was more carefree on the surface, but beyond that there was an alien feel to it. She just didn't seem to be the same girl he called his sister anymore.

Her brother knew nothing about her transformation, about the visitation from the demonic, shadowy presence or anything that happened in between, and Sara was not about to change that. When she got to the rails, she danced around the corner, and found herself looking down at the bottom of the steps. She lept down the stairs, and landed halfway down. In another bounce she landed at the bottom, not making a sound in between. That was rather disturbing to Rick because those stairs were notorious for how much they creaked.

He followed behind her, walking carefully down the steps so as to avoid making any sounds that might wake up their parents and arouse their suspicions. Rick held onto the hardwood bannister as he made his discent, allowing the smooth, polished would to glide through his right hand along the way.

When he got down to the bottom, Sara was waiting for him impatiently. She continued walking through the room, not saying a word. It wasn't until they went past an open window and the moonlight hit Sara's skin that Rick understood why the situation felt so bizarre to him.

In the moonlight, Sara's skin was so pale that it was nearly a perfect shade of white. Her nightgown billowed out around her, lending a spectral look to her figure. It was something like right out of an old horror movie with a man following a ghostly figure. After standing behind her for a moment, Rick continued walking. Along the way, he grabbed his keys off of a rack on the wall as they entered the dining room.

She stopped in the laundry room and closed the door, blocking Rick's view of her whle she changed into clothing that was more appropriate for meandering through the neighboor. A minute after she closed the door, she was finished and opened the door. Rick saw his sister wearing a ratty old tank top and a pair of sweat pants that had seen better days. The tank top had some sort of cheap, imitation bra-like support built into it, so she didn't look indecent.

Sara looked more athletic and svelt than he had seen her before. Her figure seemed to be more slender and taut in many of the parts that were normally problem areas for women, and more enhanced in others. Her exposed skin was smoother and paler, and it seemed much more like the sort of thing that he had seen when he found her curled up on the floor in the bathroom in a fetal position. Rick just dismissed the thoughts before he could really give them time to fester in his conscious mind, casting doubts deep into his heart about the situation that he found himself in.

Rick walked through the dining room with a casual gait, one that belied the inner tumult that was trying to find ground in his mind and soul. Without saying anything, he slipped past Sara and squeezed between her and the washing machine on his way to the door to the garage which was just a foot or two behind his sister.

The door knob on the door to the garage door was freezing, and covered in a light condensation. After Rick turned the knob, and opened the door, he looked down at his hand and found it covered in a light film of moisture. The garage was very cold as well, but he remained oblivious to that because Sara distracted him when she danced down the steps and over to the side door next to the main garage door. Putting the weirdness associated with the door knob out of his mind, Rick followed her outside the frigid garage and into the cool, but completely bearable night.

The night was very surreal. Dark shadows, vaguely darker than normal seemed to hang over every single part of the landscape that could possibly hide a predator lurking within their protective penumbrae. The light from moon and stars was pale, and it cast a wicked glare on the houses along the street. Everything seemed taller, darker, larger than life in a malevolent sort of way tonight.

As they walked down the street, Rick instinctively pulled away from the side of the street, more toward the center of the road where there was the most light. On a subconscious level, that is where he felt the most at ease. Part of him waited for a visage straight out of the scene of the Garden of Gethsemene from the Passion of the Christ, to come before him with infernal taunts and temptations. 

When he looked over at his sister, she seemed to be entirely oblivious, just like she had been inside of the house. How could she so blithely handle this, feeling not a bit of spiritual discomfort? Rick was starting to get worried about her, and the more he indulged his doubts and curiosities, the more that he could no longer hide the fact that she was indeed a changed person, and not changed for the better he feared above all else now.

Sara's arms swung free, without a care in the world. She started skipping down the street for several strides, and then abruptly stopped, training her gaze upon the night sky. It was a clear night, with only a few clouds to cover the void of outerspace. Off in the distance, high up in the sky, there were several figures that flew in a circular pattern. The way that the moon shone down upon their bodies, they appeared to be birds of prey, but they were too high up to be any sort of raptor that Rick was familiar with.

"Aren't they glorious?" Sara said in a whisper to her brother who was getting creeped out by the whole situation.

"What are they?" He muttered.

She smiled at her brother, and whispered with a sly grin across her lips, "what do you think they are?" The way that she said it was almost like a hiss. It sent a chill down her brother's spine.

"I... I... don't know and I don't really want to know..." He looked at her now, as though he had lost his bearings on the real world that he had once known.

"Come on, let's keep walking," she said in a soft tone of voice.

"Sara, you don't seem like yourself tonight. As your older brother, I'm getting scared for you."

She glanced over at him and replied casually, "why are you scared? Things have never made more sense to me in my entire life than they do now." They kept walking down the street while they talked, and as they passed the house three doors down from their home, she added, "I know I've changed. Somehow. I don't even know what's going on myself, but I know it just feels right, like it's the way it's supposed to be."

"Small comfort for us..." he muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Sara's gaze lowered toward the ground, and she asked cautiously, "about twenty minutes ago, when we were back in your room, did you feel like time had stopped or anything like that?"

He looked over at her with a worried expression on his face and said, "what do you mean?"

"Nothing..." She tried to walk off and change the subject, but he wasn't about to let her pull that stunt on him anymore. He grabbed her and twirled her around to face him.

"No, you've got something on your mind, and it's about damn time you tell me what has been happening!" He was nearly shouting, and his grip was starting to dig into her arms, but she didn't show any signs of pain.

She looked away and sighed. "A demon of some sort came into your room and attacked us. It was screwing with me, and I nearly lost control over myself. I felt myself starting to change into something that seemed more than being human. At the same time, darkness was overtaking me, and I could feel myself being hardened from the inside out. Then..." She paused and a tear welled up in her right eye and she choked on her words for a moment. "I heard a voice that said 'choose this day who you will serve.' So... I threw my hand out and somehow tore the demon's heart out."

Rick couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You mean to tell me that you somehow tore the beating heart out of a demon?"

"Yes..." Sara turned away from him in embarassment and abject shame. Inside, she still felt filthy from the transformation that she had experienced during the attack. A gust of wind blew past her, and the chill it whipped along her flesh left her feeling even more empty inside as it seemed to amplify the pain she was experiencing.

She added further, "I've had weird things, not that weird, but other weird things happen to me for the past few days now. The weirdest one of all was just a night or two ago, I think. I had this dream... about being in ancient Egypt. I was outside during the slaughter of the first born, and came face to face with Azrael, the angel of death who carried out the tenth plague. He seared something into my arm, rather than strike me down, and when I woke up... I had this on my arm."

She slowly pulled the sleeve up on her arm, and revealed a scar that showed four crosses, one pointing in each compass direction, surrounded by a tight circle. The skin where it carved into looked like it had suffered severe burning. From his medical experience, Rick knew that there was no way in hell a girl like his sister could inflict something that perfectly formed, and that damaging into her own flesh. His heart skipped a beat when he first saw it, and it would be several minutes before the thunderous pounding in his chest would slowly return to a normal rhythm.

An uncomfortable silence hung between the two siblings. It was as though an invisible wall had been erected between the two of them, separating them entirely in all the ways that counted. Outside, there was precious little movement or activity apart from the elements. From where they were standing, they had a solid view of the landscape of their town, and everything seemed unnaturally quiet tonight.

Sara touched the scar on her arm lightly, and the winced at first. As her brain grew accustomed to the pain, she was able to touch it more freely. Upon closer tactile examination, it was obvious that the wound was perfectly cut into her flesh. It looked and felt like the perfect branding.

The clouds parted above them, allowing the moon to creep out from behind cover a little more now. In the pale light, the wound let off a gentle glow. The slightly bluish aura that hung over it only served to provide further agitation to Rick. Off in the distance, they heard what sounded like movement in the backyards of one of their neighbors. Many of the lots were covered in trees and bush, which was how he heard the movement.

Rick didn't need further motivation to be afraid. He simple grabbed Sara by the arm and took off running back to their house. For some reason, the two of them felt compelled to not look back as they ran. Even as they arrived at their doorstep, panting and wheezing for having nearly sprinted the whole way home, they never felt safe.

Their front door closed behind them, they thought themselves safely ensconced in their home. Across the street, the lights dimmed and the shadows grew. Swirling masses, menacing and wrathful. They assembled with a palpable vengeance, waiting for their time.

Chapter 9

The slammed shut smartly behind them when Rick gave it an adrenaline-powered shove. The sense of dread and trailing malignant darkness seemed to have been evaded. For the moment, they found shelter in their home, and they took advantage of that. Rick went into the kitchen, and by sheer habit flicked the light switch on as he walked through the doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen.

Sara trailed in behind him. She glided across the floor with elegance and grace, barely making a sound as she flitted into the room. While he made his away around behind the counter to get a beer from the refrigerator, she stooped over the counter, looking intently out the large window behind her older brother. Though she could not see anything outside that was out of the ordinary, she felt compelled to gaze off into the darkness that was beyond their back porch lights.

Her dark reverie was interrupted by the sound of a bottle top being popped off. Rick wasn't picky, and his beer tasted as bad as piss smelled as far as she was concerned. Part of her was so fatigued that she would have gladly traded suffering through the odious taste of one of those, for the liberating buzz that it would give her.

Rick took a long sip of it, then he just held it in his hand, staring blankly at the bottle. He didn't look like he was holding up well at all. After a moment of contemplation, he reached into the refrigerator and grabbed another bottle. On his way around the counter, he grabbed the bottle top opener with the same hand he used for the backup bottle. Sara joined him at the table, they didn't speak until the better part of the first bottle of cheap beer had been consumed.

"What a messed up night..." Rick's words trailed off as the bottle returned to his lips and he took another sip. The cold brew danced on his tongue, then down his throat, helping him take the edge off of things.

He took another sip, and without looking at her, muttered, "no... what a FUCKED UP night..."

Sara violently fluffed her hair with her hands. It was a habit she had when she was nervous that had been with her since she was a child. "Night?" She muttered it sarcastically. "Try more like the entire day."

"Yeah, right. This creepy stuff has only been really happening around me since we got the call that you were in the hospital. I was cheerfully oblivious before that..." He took another sip of his beer and continued to stare down at the bottle. Rick did