Authors: Thomas E. Sniegoski
When they were all Nephilim.
“Are you still burning yourself after every kill?” Russell asked.
Cameron must have looked shocked.
“What, you didn’t know I knew? Oh yeah, I knew. Watched you do it, burning your flesh with the edge of your sword.”
Cameron didn’t know what to say.
“I used to think you were so cool,” Russell spat with contempt. “But then I died. And when I was brought back, I could see you for what you truly are.” He paused, and Cameron noticed the muscles in the Void Angel’s legs tense.
“Doomed,” Russell cried as he sprang.
There wasn’t much of an opportunity to think, never mind act. Cameron relied entirely on instinct, reaching for what was the closest object to protect himself from the slashing, razor-sharp
claws.
The Nephilim corpse took the brunt of the damage as Cameron thrust it at his foe, buying himself a few precious seconds.
“Have you no respect for the dead, Cam?” Russell asked, tossing the corpse aside.
But Cameron was ready as Russell flapped his powerful wings, charging at him with incredible speed. Cameron met the attack, swinging his sword of fire and conjuring the memory of the bond the two had shared before Russell’s untimely death.
* * *
“What—what have you done to me?” Samantha asked, her speech slurring.
Melissa felt incredibly cold, experiencing what her former teammate had endured when her life had been taken, and after some semblance of that life had been returned by the power of darkness. Melissa wanted nothing more than to curl up in a dark corner with her eyes tightly shut, but that most certainly would have meant her death.
She knew there was still some sort of connection between the Nephilim and the Angels of the Void. It was the answer to defeating them.
Samantha tried to get away, but Melissa couldn’t allow that to happen.
“You’re going nowhere,” she managed, forcing herself
across the expanse of floor and jumping on Samantha’s back before the dark angel could take flight.
“Get off of me!” Samantha screeched groggily, still reeling from the effects of Melissa’s heartfelt memories.
Samantha spun around, her claws growing in length, and Melissa reacted as a true warrior, swinging her arm with great force and connecting with Samantha’s chin. The severity of the blow snapped the girl’s head to one side, allowing Melissa the chance she had waited for.
“There’s still some divine inside you,” Melissa said, taking the black-armor-garbed girl in her embrace. “We’re still connected.”
Samantha screamed, her wings beating the air as she fought to escape.
But Melissa held fast, the fire of the Nephilim igniting within her body, even as the darkness welled up within Samantha.
“Don’t touch me!” Samantha wailed. She almost slipped from Melissa’s grasp, but the Nephilim would have none of that, head-butting her foe, stunning her yet again.
The darkness and light flowed from their bodies, forming a cocoon about them; fire and darkness swirling around their struggling bodies, as ancient forces, good and evil, vied for supremacy.
Melissa knew that these two forces could very easily destroy them both, but it was the only way to truly defeat her foe—
And grant her friend the final rest that she deserved.
And then Melissa saw it.
It was just a fleeting glance, but at the center of her foe, where she had always imagined the soul to be, Melissa saw what remained of her friend. It was like a jagged piece of flint lying at the center of the black miasma, gone cold and dark with the coming of death.
A piece of Samantha’s soul that Melissa could reignite if she was strong enough.
The darkness was winning, driving her to the ground, forcing its way into her body to suffocate the light of her divine birthright.
But Melissa remembered what she had seen in the center of the Void Angel’s being and held on to that image.
She dropped her guard, letting the darkness overwhelm her, letting it become overconfident.
And just when it thought it had won—
The fire of Heaven was in her hand. Melissa reached through the darkness for Samantha’s hard, blackened soul.
And wrapped her burning hand around it.
* * *
Cameron wasn’t sure how much longer he would last.
He swung with his sword, but Russell’s claws were just as effective, blocking his swipes and putting him back on the defensive.
His wound was still bleeding, flowing down his side and
into the waistline of his pants.
Cameron tried to do as Melissa instructed, putting the memories of his deceased friends at the forefront of his thoughts.
He could see that it was having some effect, but not necessarily the one he had been hoping for.
The memories of the life they’d shared at Saint Athanasius just seemed to make the reanimated Nephilim all the more furious. Russell screamed, clouds of darkness rising from his body as they continued to battle one another.
Cameron’s sword of flame shattered with Russell’s latest attack, and suddenly Cameron realized that he was in trouble. His mind felt foggy as he tried to re-create the blade.
“What’s the matter, Cam?” Russell taunted. “Not the badass you thought you were?”
Cameron pushed himself across the floor, struggling to pull his thoughts together, but the poison was wreaking havoc on his system.
“I see your memories,” Russell said, reaching down and running his claws across Cameron’s leg.
The Nephilim screamed as they cut through his jeans to the flesh beneath.
“It was all a lie—all of it,” Russell spat.
A sword sparked to life, and Cameron slashed at Russell to drive him back. The Void Angel just swatted it away, reducing the blade to sparks.
“We weren’t a family. We were just fodder for God. Poor,
pathetic creatures who had no real understanding of our place, or what we were even supposed to do.”
“You’re wrong,” Cameron said. He created a shield of fire as Russell’s claws descended upon him again.
“I died afraid . . . praying for God to save me,” Russell growled. “And what did I get?”
The claws came again and again, slashing at the shield of fire.
“I think you know the answer.”
Cameron couldn’t remember the good times anymore, that sense of family that all the Nephilim had shared.
All he felt was an awful cold.
“Will you pray to God, Cam?” Russell asked. “Will you beg for Him to save you, even though you know He isn’t listening?”
Overwhelmed by fear and depression, Cameron felt himself succumbing to Russell. He knew he was going to die, and for the briefest of moments, he welcomed it.
But then he changed his mind.
Cameron’s internal fire sparked, shining through the cloud of shadow that wished to take him down. And it was all he needed to rekindle his yearning for life.
The darkness still pressed upon him, and through that thick, liquid black, he sensed Russell’s claws. They were descending on him, ready to rip his flesh from the bone, to open him wide and let the darkness in.
But Cameron had other plans.
He thought of a knife with a blade sharp enough to cut through the shadow, thicker than night.
With a point keen enough to reach the core.
Cameron surged up.
Plunging the blade into a heart of darkness.
* * *
Samantha screamed, but Melissa did not let go, continuing to will the fire of God into her hand, which clutched the blackened piece of the Void Angel’s soul.
And as she cried and begged, and thrashed her arms, legs, and wings, Melissa held on until the soul began to glow.
Melissa released the soul fragment, repelled by the thrashing of the dark angel.
“What is this?” Samantha wailed, looking down at herself.
The armor that she wore began to disintegrate, rays of divine light breaking through cracks that had formed in metal forged of shadow. Pieces began to fall away, clattering to the floor.
Samantha tried to fly away, to join with her brethren, but as she unfurled her wings, they immediately started to disintegrate. She fell to the ground as the light in her body intensified. She was crying now, sobbing pitifully as the last fragments of shadow that had clung to her dissolved away.
“I’m so sorry,” Samantha said, raising her head to look at Melissa. “I never wanted to do this. . . .”
Melissa took her friend in her arms. The girl’s body glowed hotly, but she shivered as if freezing. “Don’t be afraid. It’s all right now.”
“Yes,” Samantha agreed as the light grew even more intense. “It is.”
There came a searing flash, and then the girl was no longer in Melissa’s arms, but she was far from gone.
Melissa felt Samantha inside her. The fallen Nephilim’s inner fire joined with hers.
There was another flash of blinding brilliance, and Melissa saw Cameron kneeling amid wisps of fleeting shadow, as his own foe returned to the light.
From across the expanse they shared a look of understanding.
It had become so much more now than just defeating their enemies.
They owed their friends another chance for peace.
The warmth of Samantha’s presence inside Melissa gave her a whole new level of confidence and strength. She could see the same in Cameron as he approached, and they both turned toward the battle that still raged between the Nephilim and the surviving Angels of the Void.
“Enough!” Melissa screamed, her voice echoing through the stone chamber.
The creatures that had once been Kirk and William looked to them, cruel smiles forming at the corners of their pale, twisted mouths. But those looks of perverse pleasure were
short-lived, as they recognized traces of Samantha and Russell within Melissa and Cameron.
The darkness exploded from the surviving Void Angels in waves, propelling both across the room, but Melissa and Cameron were ready. They allowed the glow from their bodies to expand—the light driving back the Void Angels.
“What have you done?” William cried out, his face twisted in rage.
“You’re not leaving here either,” Melissa told the two dark angels.
“At least not in the way you came in,” Cameron finished.
Kirk laughed evilly. With a roar, the Void Angels sprang as one, their wings of darkness propelling them into the air, darkness masking their retreat like squids squirting clouds of ink.
It only took a moment for Melissa and Cameron to realize what was happening.
“They’re going to escape,” Melissa said.
The other Nephilim dropped from the air to pin the Void Angels to the floor. William raged, his claws finding flesh and bone, but the surviving Nephilim were not deterred.
Melissa drew closer to the struggle, Cameron at her side. William and Kirk continued their horrible taunts, as the darkness from their awful bodies created a heavy pall in the atmosphere of the chamber, which now reeked of despair.
One of the Nephilim turned to look at them, and a message was passed with a glance.
“They understand,” Melissa said. “The Nephilim understand that it has to be us.”
She took Cameron’s hand, joining her inner light with his. Each summoned a weapon of divine fire—a short sword for Melissa, the knife for Cameron.
At the sight of these burning weapons, the Void Angels began to fight all the harder, but the Nephilim redoubled their efforts, holding the murderous pair in place as Melissa and Cameron advanced.
“You can’t do this!” William yelled. “We’re his children. Do you know what he’ll do to you if—”
Melissa drove the point of her sword into the center of William’s armored chest.
The results were immediate. The dark angel twitched and sputtered as his armor began to break down, allowing the rekindled light from within to escape.
Kirk knew that it was his end as well, but still he begged for mercy. Ignoring the dark angel’s pleas, Cameron leaned in, sliding his knife into his former friend just beneath his breast plate, reigniting what remained of Kirk’s soul.
The Nephilim leaped back as the light intensified. There was a searing flash, and the light was gone, as were Kirk’s and William’s bodies.
We did it,
Melissa thought, experiencing an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. They had not only vanquished their enemies, but they had also restored their fallen friends’ peace.
Cameron still held her hand tightly. She was tempted to tell him that he could let go, but she thought better of it. She liked the way her hand felt in his.
Like it’s supposed to be this way.
The Nephilim, no longer fighting for their lives, gazed about the vast mountain chamber.
“Where are we?” one of them asked. “What happened to us?”
Melissa was about to explain when she heard coughing.
“What happened?” the Custodian asked, struggling to sit. “You have been chosen.” His dark eyes glistened.
“You are the Inheritors of the world.”
S
atan Darkstar felt the eyes of his legions upon him as they amassed above him along the lip of the crater.
The Cherubim waited, the muscles beneath their golden fur rippling as they paced, catlike, before the entrance to the House of God.
Satan watched the Lord God’s guardians.
What unusual beasts they are,
he thought. So much more bestial in their design, as if He wanted them to be feared.
To keep away those who did not belong in His house.
There was a commotion above as Satan’s armies attempted to come to his aid, but the Darkstar would have none of it.
“No!” he cried out. He pointed his blade of darkness toward them, and flames of shadow picked off those eager enough to brave the dangers of the crater. “This is my fight!” the Darkstar proclaimed. “And mine alone!”
He wanted them to bear witness to his might.
Satan spread his wings and launched himself toward the House of God. One of the great beasts leaped from its perch, its two sets of wings flapping powerfully as it charged at him with incredible speed.
It slashed at him, claws trailing fire. Satan narrowly evaded the attack by ducking below its forward momentum. Then he surged up toward the Cherubim’s underside, willing his armor to change. Long spikes grew up from his back and shoulders.