The Taking (4 page)

Our intimate eye contact breaks by the sound of Cindy’s voice. “I can feel the strange angelic presence getting closer. It is so unusual. Why is it so different?” She gazes at our leader, her face longing for answers. “We are close now, aren’t we?”

The archangel does not answer. He stops in front of a door made of solid stone. There are no windows or external doors allowing light into this corridor. We are surrounded completely by stone. Archangel Michael leans and places a hand on each side of the doorframe and bends his head down while taking a deep breath.
 

Curiously we watch as our leader appears to be gathering up strength to enter the next room. My mind races. What kind of angelic being is behind that wall that the great warrior has to prepare himself mentally to approach?

After a long pause, he turns to face us, his face set in determination. “Alright fledglings, it is time to meet your potential new trainer. Good luck!” He turns back, placing a hand on the door and a white angelic pulse leaves his hand. The large stone door grates along the floor as it moves aside with ease.

- Chapter Three -

Archangel Michael walks through the door, and our view of the room clears. Before us is an enormous hall forged in stone, no windows to the outside walls and no doors except the one we are entering. It is just dark grey, dull walls. The candles that line the sides are absent of flames, and blackness engulfs the room. Our angel vision immediately kicks in allowing us to see past the darkness.
 

Stepping through, I hear Ben and Cindy following close behind. Cindy takes a sharp breath. Searching to see what has her attention my eyes follow her sight. I see a movement, ever so slight against the far wall. My eyes zoom in to observe the spot. At first, it takes me a little while to work out what caused the movement.
 

The great warrior stands tall and waves his hands. A streak of light leaves them and aims directly for the unlit torches lining the walls, bouncing from one to the next until the wall-mounted torches illuminate with flames. My eyes adjust to the new light, and I watch as the figure across the room rises. Layers of dust shift from the top and speckle through the light as it falls to the floor. While squinting, I think I can see feathers from where the dust has fallen. A head rises. Streaked, grey hair falls to the shoulders catching in the light, unable to hide its shine even from under the dust. Arches of off-white, dirty wings, frame both sides of the head. Something looks wrong with the wings. Straining, I look harder. They seem stunted.
 

Observing the angel slowly standing and the dust floating to the floor, I wonder if he has just been sitting in the one spot for months, if not years. What kind of life is that? Not one that I would like to live. Right now I am not sure which would be worse, spending life in the abyss or sitting here alone for the rest of my years. Being an angel that is a very long time. Questions are flying through my head as I stare in astonishment at the odd being.

“Haven’t I told you not to come?” The voice is coarse. He does not turn but continues to face the wall.
 

“How does he even know who’s here?” Cindy whispers in my ear her eyes never leaving the strange angel.

A guttural sound echoes across the room. “Especially when your company is vacuous.”

Cindy gasps and looks at me, her eyes wide. “Did he just call me dumb?”

I can’t help smiling as I watch her arms cross over her chest. I hold a finger to her lips in a silencing motion.
 

He turns around slowly. I almost gasp at the sight. After seeing angels that are forever young, I am stunned at his appearance. The skin over his cheeks droop toward his chin. Empty bags hang under his eyes that are topped with eyebrows holding only a few grey hairs. Creases form at the bridge of his nose and horizontal lines decorate his forehead. Over his straight mouth, the nose is long with ears that hang lower than that of a younger being. I thought angels didn’t grow old. I stare taking in all of his features when I feel the eyes fall on me. I hold my breath as I gaze into the lifeless green pits.
 

After a quick observation, he scowls and turns to our leader. With a voice is swimming in sarcasm, he asks, “What brings the all mighty archangel after all these years?”
 

“Zacharias, we are in need of your help,” Archangel Michael says. He takes a step toward him spreading his arms slightly with his palms facing the earthbound being.

The upper lip curls on the aged face. “Am I not doing enough?” His eyes study the three of us. “Am I not remaining here doing what you have instructed me to do?” He takes a step, and the light catches his gown. It is the same garment worn by the monks we saw before, dull, black under the layers of dust, with a rope tied around his waist. Dust flicks though the light of the room again. “Besides what can I possibly do that you need my help for? I was shoved down here because I am no longer of use to you with your battles.”

“You know that is not true,” our trainer snaps. “Yes, you have your limits now but you are far from useless. You agreed to this . . . arrangement.”

A huff escapes his body. “My life is worthless except for one job, you know that. You all agreed that this was something I could do, alone and in a place no one can find.”

“You are not alone Zacharias. The monks are more than happy to communicate with you if you let them.”

“Ha, monks; humans who have no idea about the real world. They are clueless.” He flicks his hand dismissively in the air.

A sigh escapes the great warrior. “You speak harshly of our earthly allies.” He took a couple of steps forward. “However, if you are feeling worthless and lonely for angelic company I have the perfect job for you. Something we need you to do.”

“Don’t ridicule and belittle me, filling me with your lies.” His shoulders stiffen as he turns away from us. “My years of proper use are over.”
 

“Did you not hear me? We need your help,” the great warrior snaps.

He turns back around and his eyes narrow as he observes us again. “I assume that seeing you brought these three younglings, you want me to guard them too.” He turns his squinting eyes to our leader. “I am not a babysitter. I will not babysit; I would rather be alone.” He spins and his gaze falls on Cindy. “I need real conversation and you want me to babysit mindless girls.”

Cindy crosses her arms tighter, and her eyes shoot daggers, but she holds her tongue.
 

Zacharias points to her and says, “She doesn’t even know how to show respect.” He approaches us, the eyes still looking us up and down. “And what is with their clothing? Tight yellow pants and shirt with yellow wings.” He progresses to me. “Tight dark blue, green, speckled with gold — hardly hiding her figure and golden wings.” He takes another step and observes Ben. “Tight pants,
shirtless
, and blue wings.” His eyes survey the charm I made of the three of us and hooked on his pants. “Even jewellery.” I see the muscles in Ben’s jaw swell as he clenches it, but he remains staring straight ahead. Zacharias shakes his head. “What is wrong with them? They are underdressed, and they look like they are trying to make a fashion statement. Why? Angels are meant to remain unseen. Where are their angelic gowns?” He studies the three of us again.
 

“I understand your point,” Archangel Michael says. “But these are new angels from the modern world.”

Zacharias spits out air. “Hogwash. An angel is an angel and should stick to angelic rules and . . . look like an angel.”

“A lot has changed since you have fought with us Zacharias. The demons are expanding, and their powers are growing. We are short of angels to protect the humans, so we have had to recruit them.”

“What? Recruit them! From where?”

“From humans,” Archangel Michael says quietly.
 

Zacharias stops his pacing. His green eyes study Archangel Michael. “Are you mad?” He looks at us again. “From humans.”

“Yes, but unique humans; ones that have lived three innocent lives and have been murdered each time.” He looks at the angry face of Zacharias. “Ones that have earned it, even though they did not know they had a chance of an angelic life.”

Zacharias turns and looks at our leader. “So, you want me to babysit these humans?”

“They are not humans; they are new angels.”

“As I said, you expect me to babysit these humans?” He is pointing at us as he stares into Archangel Michael’s eyes.

“No.” The archangel stands firm and stares back at him. “I want you to train them.”

He feigns a laugh. “You’re hilarious.” He slaps our leader on the shoulder and says, “Thanks for the laugh.” His smile disappears from his face, and he snaps, “Get out.” He points to the door.
 

Archangel Michael stands firm. “Zacharias, you are the best trainer there is and they . . . we need your help.”

“I am not training humans.” He spits.

“Angels,” the archangel corrects. “And their powers are strong.”

“I don’t care. Why can’t you train the humans yourself?” He squints as he scrutinises him.
 

Our leader sighs. “I have trained them, but they need more, and I am required . . . in battle.” He looks at Zacharias, strain of the argument and visit clear on his face. “As I said, we need you.”

“Well that is too bad then, isn’t it?” He stands intimidatingly close to Archangel Michael. “I am not training humans. So get out,” he hisses, pointing at the door again.

Archangel Michael does not move. “I think you will find this job a rewarding one. Actually, I know you will find this rewarding.”

“I will never find babysitting humans rewarding. Now, I don’t have all day; so as I have said — leave.” He turns his back and begins to walk to the wall on the opposite side.
 

The words come out clearly and defined. “Separus is after them, one in particular.”

Zacharias stops in his tracks. The room is completely silent. He spins around slowly to look at Archangel Michael. “What did you just say?”

“We have suspicions that Separus is after one, if not all of them. I thought you might find pleasure in this job as it could lead to the revenge you have always wanted.”

“Why would Separus be after humans? The only interest a demon has had in humans in the past has been to remove their conscience.”

“Like I said, they are new angels, fledglings, and they are powerful. He is trying to get to them before they have learnt to use their power correctly. They need training, and you are, even earthbound,” a sneer crossed Zacharias’ face, which our leader ignores, “an excellent fighter.
 

“Which one is he after?” He paces in front of us again studying our faces.
 

“The colourful one.”

I cringe as the haunted green eyes tower over me staring deep into mine. Amusement crosses his rugged features as he studies me from top to toe. I don’t want to be anywhere near this spiteful angel, but I know I need the training.
 

“Has this one had encounters with Separus?” His eyes do not stop studying me.
 

“Yes,” Archangel Michael answers.
 

“Yet she stands here unharmed?” Annoyance seeps through his voice.

“Yes. She was doing well but also had the company of her colleagues. Separus must have sensed me coming and disappeared.”

“Hmm! Very lucky for you, hey?” He says to me. “Had the leader of the angels scare the big demon away, human?” He speaks to me like I am a child.
 

“Zacharias,” Archangel Michael snaps, his eyes piercing sapphires. “They are not humans. Can you not see their wings?”

“By looking at them, they would just be decorations. A mere fashion statement,” he derides with a swipe of the hand. “I will not train human models. Bring me someone worthy of a good fight.” He turns his back on us.

“Why don’t you give them a try?” The archangel says. “They are only fledglings, angels in training, but give them a try.”

Zacharias turns to face our leader. “You want
me
to fight
them
?” No effort is made to hide his sneer.

“Barehanded, yes.”

I swallow. There is a lump forming in my throat. I am not keen to fight this earthbound angel; I think he would fight dirty.
 

“You want me to fight the humans?” he scoffs again. The corners of his mouth have risen in the closest thing to a smile I have seen on his face yet.

My heart is starting to race.
I can’t believe he just called us humans again like we are inferior.
Fire begins to burn in my torso. I am ready to kick this old, decrepit angel’s butt.
 

- Chapter Four -