TITLE: The Gathering By Angela Saunders 09/05/05 |
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Chapter 1
Gathering-(n) implies an ordered union or organization of persons or things often for a definite purpose
For we are not fighting people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against those mighty powers of darkness who rule this world, and against wicked spirits in the heavenly realms.
Eph 6:12
Two eyes shone piercingly through a wall of indigo colored smoke. Their fiery red hate pulsating in time to the music that fills the room with its manic pulse. Bodies melded together, twisting as if puppets played by the invisible strings of the drum beat, a force that drives desire and feeds its lust for blood. It moves unseen through the writhing mass toward the neon glow of the bar. Scales slide effortlessly across one another, creating a black vortex of blades across the length of the ancient reptilian form. Approaching the counter, electric sensations of glee roll through its belly as he rears up and hovers over the stool. His claws pierce the fleshy back seated upon it. In an otherworldly voice, he whispers, "It's TIME!"
Anita nervously fumbled with her pockets as she walked out of the club, leaving the barrage of melody behind her. She felt the wad of bills with her sweaty palms. Her hands were trembling as her body was screaming out for her next fix. Looking around wildly, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Just one more block. She knew where he would be waiting for her with his gift of temporal pleasure that would stop her very being from pleading for the next endorphin rush. It was never supposed to be this way. Anita remembered that night, just months prior and ages ago. How she wished she could turn back her clock and return to that moment when the crossroads of her life were clearly marked by the choices she would make. She recalled that moment, a reoccurring nightmare that marked her future and handcuffed her to the present.
The night it all began, she remembered sitting in a circle in the middle of the dimly lit room. Finally, she felt part of a group. She had been invited to that special night, and she had wanted so much to impress them. Dominic pulled out a clear plastic bag. There were nervous chuckles as he passed it around. Inside, Anita saw the crystalline rocks. Her head told her to run. Her heart longed to please them.
Just this once, she thought naively. She watched as the vapors permeated the room. Taking turns in the circle, eyes glazed over euphorically. Reaching out, hands shaking erratically, she inhaled. Red gleaming eyes faded into the background, lost in the smoke.
Returning to the present, Anita looks ahead drearily to the corner where he should be waiting. The dilapidated brick buildings stood in front of her, broken windows forming eyes and jagged teeth, laughing mockingly at her despair. The lamp at the corner alley shown dimly, its light muted by swarms of moths beating themselves furiously against its glass, matching the pounding fury within her chest. Anita stopped. The silence of the street combined with screaming nerve endings were making her skin crawl.
Dominic?
No answer.
Ahead, a slight movement shifted in the shadows. "Dominic? Are you there?" her voice, just over a whisper, echoed through her head. She felt the familiar tug to run, as she did every time she went through this ritual. This time, the urge was stronger, but she had become a slave. She was in bondage to the desire that drove her to repeat this nightmare day in and day out.
The shadow began to take shape. Anita let out a sigh of relief as the jagged silhouette began to slide slowly across the bricks on the side of the building. Her body wracked with trembling, she fought to extract the wad of bills from her pocket. Her fingers refused to grip the bundle. Distracted by the battle within her pocket, she stumbled onto the sidewalk. Momentarily stunned, Anita raised her head toward the sound of hollow footsteps approaching and the shadow that now enveloped her.
"Dominic, I need..."
A look of bewilderment crossed her face. "Who...?"
A metal flash. An instant of realization. A feeling of wet warmth. Her mouth dropped open sudden realization. Feeling her life seeping from her, Anita watched with fascination and horror as her eyes were opened to a darker realm. Looking at this crazed man standing before her, her eyes were drawn to the larger shadow hovering behind him. A creature from nightmares. The eyes. The eyes reflecting her blood were saturated with glee. She tried to look away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a glint of light growing deep in the alley. Just before the dimness of the night faded to blackness, Anita heard a rustle of wings and for an instant she saw those eyes filled with¡.. Fear? She was close now. More eyes. More gleeful stares. Hot sulfur filled the air. What was that noise? Screams coming from everywhere. She felt a darkness she had never known in her lifetime. In that instant, Anita was gone.
****
Karina Mason bolted up in bed. Her heart thumping in her ears and her breath ragged. The clock on the bedside table glowed 1:13am. The full moon painted stripes across her wall, reaching its fingers through vertical blinds. Disoriented at first, she looked around her room. Everything seemed to be in place. At the foot of her bed, the cat was curled around her feet, oblivious to the torrential waves of light that had awakened her so suddenly. She pulled off the blue flowered comforter that had nestled her and sat on the edge of the bed. Darlin, disgruntled by the disturbance of her slumber, leapt off the bed and pranced to the corner to lick her fur and pout. Cloaked in the unseen realms, a halo of light breached the worldly dimension and warmed Karina's shoulders.
"It's begun again," Karina whispered, her heart beginning to fill with pain of burden and anguish. Dread filled her mind. She dropped to her knees. Behind the veil, a chorus of light began to gather behind her. With every whisper of Karina's heart, the light gained strength and numbers. A force was gathering.
*****
The phone rang. Karina slowly lifted her head. Her legs were numb and her blanket damp from tears. Relentlessly, the phone continued to shout for her attention with commanding tones.
"Hello?"
"You've overslept again." The gruff voice on the other end of the line let out a frustrated sigh.
The clock was blinking 8:32.
"Karina, you are the best investigator in the district. I wish you were more dependable." "I expect you here by 9:00, we have a situation." The line went dead. Karina looked at the receiver briefly and set the phone back on its charger. Karina stood up slowly, stretching and shaking out the pins and needles feeling from her legs. Darlin ran over, purring eagerly in a figure eight around her feet, ready for breakfast.
"Not this second sweetie."
She reached down to stroke her black glossy fur and continued hastily to the bathroom. Karina attempted to tame her blonde curls that covered her head like waves blown about in a hurricane. Her normally bright blue eyes were underlined by puffy dark circles. She applied just enough makeup to accentuate her high cheekbones and hide the circles under her eyes. She pulled on a pair of khakis and a quickly grabbed a red shirt that brought out a warm glow from her pale skin. Running to the kitchen, Karina grabbed a can of tuna flavored cat food and poured it into Darlin's bowl before bounding out the door. She exited her apartment building while fumbling with the keys to her silver Neon parked in the lot of the complex. She got into the car, pushing left over wrappers from meals eaten on the go onto the passenger floor. She drove out and turned onto I-77, beginning her commute to the office. The highway was full of people anxiously looking at watches and shuffling from one lane to another trying to save a minute or two of travel time. Monday mornings were the worst. Tired bodies sucking down coffee, drearily welcoming the return of the work week, patience worn thin by the morning traffic rush, filled the busy streets. As Karina settled in to her twenty minute commute, she felt overwhelmed by a sense of burden. She had not asked for this position in life, but she had come to accept it. She had seen first hand how triumph is woven from tragedy. She knew that there was a war occurring over the very souls of those she encountered daily, and she had been called to intercede. Karina's mind began racing back to those beginnings, matching the speed of the cars flying frantically past her.
It was that night, twenty years ago. Karina had just entered her teen years. A young, tender age of thirteen at which influences of others took precedence over knowledge of right and wrong. An age where mom and dad begin to drop into the background, yet silently she still yearned to be held and comforted as she did when they were the most important influence in her life.
"He's gone." Those words pierced her soul, a dagger that laid her heart bare. A "daddy's girl," Karina had watched her father struggle for his every breath, his muscles ridden with spasms of pain. Cancer had destroyed the body he had once worked so diligently to keep in shape. Everyone knew this moment was coming, but deep down; Karina had built a wall of denial around her heart, fooling herself into believing that she was immune to the reality of death. It was a myth that only touched the lives of others. But the words echoed as if her heart was the Grand Canyon and the news of her father's death rang out through every crevice.
"Nooooooooo!!"
She would not accept this. Growing up in a home that was built on the belief that God was in control of all things, Karina grew cold. How could a God who loved us so much, show such cruelty. How could he allow death to rip its talons through the hearts of his children? Anger and bitterness crept into her soul. Slamming the door to her room, Karina also slammed the door to her heart. As one door closes, another opens. Little did she know what was behind door number two.
Sobs rang out. Karina cried out; "Isn't there anyone out there who cares?"
The room appeared to dim. Looking around, Karina felt an inviting presence tugging at her mind.
"I hear you, I care." a melodic chant rang through her head.
Looking at the center of the room, Karina appeared drawn to a piece of paper and a pencil that had been tossed on the floor. In her mind's eye, she saw letters drawn out on the page. Dropping to the floor, Karina picked up the pencil and began drawing her picture out. As she did, she held it up.
"Now what?" A metal gleam shone unnaturally bright under her desk. Karina spotted a paperclip on the floor. She picked it up and placed it on the page. Her heart began to flutter with an unfamiliar feeling of unease and excitement. The paperclip had become animated under her fingers and was moving slowly from one letter to another. Holding her breath, she read the letters. W-E-A-R-E-H-E-R-E. Karina had felt an odd sense of comfort wrapping around her, a presence filling the hole burned in her heart by bitterness toward the very God her father had died proclaiming. For the next few hours, Karina sought consolence in a conversation with her newfound friends.
Over the next few weeks Karina became obsessed with her makeshift Ouija board. The original comfort the voices offered no longer brought her peace. Her soul longed for more and she became desperate to fill the void. The words being spelled through the page also rang out loudly in her head. The voices had become entities that began to fill every minute of her day. Days became dark and nights became filled with dread. Karina found herself haunted day in and day out by an evil presence that had wrapped itself around her. Lying awake at night, she would squeeze her eyes tight, sensing her room was filled with shadows that had taken on a force of their own. She felt breathless and smothered by fear. When sleep finally overtook her, she was tormented by dreams. Dreams of creatures with razor sharp claws tearing her limb from limb. Dreams of heated caverns and laughing faces that twisted into mocking scowls. Dreams of spinning around and around through time and space, never ending. Dreams of being trapped in darkness with no way out. Her friends had become her tormenters. Karina had unwittingly stepped foot into the realm of the Occult. Turning her back on God, she had opened herself to demonic forces that had conned her into welcoming them with open arms.
Karina, realizing she had come upon the exit that would lead her to work, shook her head to clear herself of the memories that often pushed their way to the front of her mind.
"It's amazing how you work all things for good!" she whispered aloud in a conversational prayer, a habit she had maintained, as she pulled into the parking lot of the station.
Across town Stefan Crawford was battling tormenters of his own. Sunlight shown into the living room window, warming his long, muscular form that lay prostrate across the floor. As the rays of warmth crossed the floor and shone on his greasy black hair, he opened his eyes. For a moment, Stefan was unaware of who or where he was. The last thing he remembered was tossing back that last shot of bourbon at Club Talent. He picked his right cheek up off of the wood paneled floor and used his heavily tattooed arms to push himself into an upright position. His head was pounding and the room momentarily spun. Stefan stood up slowly, his stomach feeling the need to empty itself of its contents. Stumbling to the bathroom, Stefan caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. It stopped him cold. The whites of his slanted brown eyes were surrounded by a web of red partially from lack of sleep, partially from the hangover that stung them. His strong squared jaw line was shadowed by a two day old growth of whiskers. Across his wide cheeks, Stefan saw a line of glistening red. He looked down across his hands. They glared back at him, bathed in rows of crimson. He was covered in it. Behind him, the white wall, yellowed by years, appeared to absorb darkness. Stefan had become accustomed to this unnatural dark that sunlight could not ease. He felt cold. The taste of bile rose in his throat. Once again, Stefan knelt before the porcelain throne.
The blackouts had become more frequent. Stefan was losing time, awakening from nightmares that were becoming increasingly realistic. He covered his ears with his bloody hands. Stefan heard a low chuckle. The voice that whispered to him in his sleep was taunting him while awake. He was being driven to insanity by sounds of death.
¡°You are the instrument of their sacrifice.¡± Molech whispered to him through his fanged mouth, sulfer spilling out through each puff of breath. Chuckling, Molech wrapped his glittering, scaled tail around Stefan. "And you, are MINE!" He boasted gleefully.
*****
Karina pushed the up button for the elevator that would take her to the second floor of the five story building. As she waited, she checked her blouse to shake out any wrinkles that may have clung. She looked at her watch. 9:03. She knew Lt. Barnes would have been pacing for the past three minutes, glaring at the door, waiting for her. Lt. Timothy Barnes, a third generation cop, was not the most patient man on the force. He exuded an air of command which alone forced those around him to cower, expectantly waiting to be given orders.
"Ding" the elevator door opened. Karina stepped in and pushed the button that would bring her to the second floor. Through the hum of the elevator, she began to prepare herself for the day. Lt. Barnes had already indicated that there was a "situation", meaning there had been a body. Karina recalled her sleepless night and began to wonder if this new situation was related to the awakening that had brought her to her knees. If so, she knew the battle was just beginning.
The elevator door opened. Karina stepped into the hollow hallway. The dingy grey tile and white walls faded yellow echoed footsteps of anyone visiting the department. Arriving at the double glass doors at the end of the hall, Karina peered in and quickly waved to Sharon, the office secretary. Sharon was a sweet little lady who had decided to continue working after retirement. She had made it her personal mission to brighten the office with ferns, plants, and knick knacks. Sharon was one of the few in the office that was not intimidated by Lt. Barnes. She seemed to lose herself in filing, and knew where every page that came across her desk was.
Karina threw Sharon a helpless look and pointed past her at Lt. Barnes' office. Sharon, understanding Karina's predicament, winked and picked up her missed call pad and carried it back into Barnes' office as a distraction. Karina gave a smirk of thanks and quickly snuck through the door and back to her desk, hoping to have just a few seconds of reprieve before Lt. Barnes had a chance to pounce on her.
Her office, in contrast to Sharon's meticulous abode, was a picture of disarray. Papers were flooding her inbox and spilling out over her desk. A cup of two day old coffee sat next to her computer, a science experiment in the making. Over Karina's desk, she has plastered her wall with inspiring thoughts and sticky notes with scripture references that she had used when her mind was wandering. Karina made a vow that she would have Sharon help her with her clutter after she weathered this next storm. Her message light on her phone was greeting her with pulses of red. She picked up the receiver and quickly accessed her voice mail.
8:10am- Karina, I woke up praying for you last night. You have been entrusted with another job. Read Ephesians 6:10-18 and remember your armor! There is a gathering behind the veil, and that can only mean one thing. Be ready for battle.¡± It was Lucinda Mason, Karina's mother and cheerleader. Karina smiled. What would she do without mom?
"You have no more new messages."
Karina took a few minutes to pray. She knew there was a realm in which battles occurred daily for the lives and souls of men. A battle waged between Angelic hosts of Heaven, and the Demonic forces of Hell. A gathering of forces. A soul somewhere was on the brink of an eternal decision, and Karina had been chosen to intercede for this one.
******************************
Chapter 2
Intercession (n): A mediation or pleading another's case for justice or mercy.
..He poured out his soul unto death; He bore the sins of many and interceded for sinners.
Isaiah 53:12
It was October, 1990. There was a chill nipping the edges of the air. Lucinda was in the kitchen where she spent much of her time. This was her domain. She could think, pray, rejoice, and weep while pouring her love into aromatic concoctions that filled the house with her presence. Today, she was beating a carrot cake mixture furiously with a wooden spoon. Tears were running down her eyes. She had lost her husband a year earlier, and now she was losing her daughter. Karina has changed. Lucinda could see the anger behind her once innocent eyes. She refused to speak to her mother at home, but instead spent hours after school locked in her room with candles burning. She began dressing darkly and showing an interest in occult symbols. Karina no longer allowed her light off in her room at night, and was sleeping fitfully. When she did fall asleep, she awakened her mother with panicked screams and yelps from nightmares that appeared to haunt her long after. Lucinda placed the wooden spoon into the sink and poured the mixture into a pan. After putting the cake in the pre-heated oven, Lucinda wiped her hands with a dish rag and sat down at the dining room table. She placed her head into her hands and with sobs, began to pour out her soul, pleading for her daughter. She always knew God had a special plan for Karina. Her life was dedicated to the Lord from the first weeks of life, and she and her husband had instilled scriptures into her before she could speak.
"Lord, she is in your hands. I pray that you would send your angels around this house to bind any evil spirits and protect us. Work out your plan in our lives." It was time to call their pastor and friend, Ed Hammond.
The stove timer and the doorbell rang simultaneously. The house was filled with the steamy aroma of freshly baked, homemade carrot cake. Lucinda hurriedly took the cake out of the oven and with green stained mitts still on her hands, she opened the door. Pastor Hammond stood smiling gently. His sky blue eyes shone with concern in contrast to his permanently tanned, leathery skin. His thin, silver rimmed bifocals were perched midway down his hawk-like nose, crooked from a childhood fall. He wore his thick, white hair combed over to one side in bellows of waves and cowlicks. A short man in his late fifties, Pastor Ed Hammond exuded an air of authority. His eyes captured souls, and his resounding voice echoed through the heart.
"Mmmm, It smells like you have been doing some hard praying." Pastor Hammond smarted. He was familiar with Lucinda's habit of pouring her heart out over the stove. Lucinda walked him into the house and they sat him down at the dining room table. Being a natural born hostess, she scurried to the kitchen to cut a piece of cake and start a pot of coffee. Pastor Hammond looked around. Symbols of a Christian household were everywhere. On the wall over the oak table were nine fruits of the spirit individually cross-stitched and framed in lace. He noted a large hand-me-down family Bible lying on a glass shelf next to a black leather couch. There was a stack of Daily Readers sitting in a wicker newspaper basket. The pages looked as if they had been read and re-read. The house itself was small but comfortable and neatly kept. There were family pictures hung on the wall. He looked at a family portrait of Rick, Lucinda, and Karina. Rick had passed away late last year from a long battle with cancer. It seemed Karina had taken his death hard.
"Cream and Sugar?" the question floated from the kitchen as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee began to waft into the dining room.
"Both please." A brief clank of a metal spoon against a coffee cup, and Lucinda reappeared with a steaming cup and a plate of cake. She sat them on the table and then disappeared long enough to return with her own plate. Pastor Hammond noted her hands were trembling slightly.
As she sat down, his eyes met hers. She glanced away quickly and began to run her fork over the cake. Her emotions were welling up just below the surface. If she looked too long, the floodgate would open and they would come spilling out.
Pastor Hammond, not one for beating around the bush, took a sip of his coffee.
"You mentioned Karina was having some problems, why don't you tell me about them." He watched her reaction long and hard. His blue bespectacled eyes spoke wisdom.
Lucinda sighed.
"I'm very frightened. You know we have raised Karina to love the Lord and have done everything we can to teach her right from wrong." Tears began to build in the corner of her deep set brown eyes.
"I've come to fear that Karina has blamed God for Rick's death. She is searching, elsewhere, for peace."
Ed heard a slight stutter and pause as the word "elsewhere" came out.
"It is a normal part of the grieving cycle to be angry and to cast blame." His eyes probed further.
Lucinda looked at her watch. It was 2:45. Karina would be home from school in thirty minutes.
"Come. Let me show you her room."
Lucinda let Ed down a narrow hallway, carpeted in green. On the right side of the hall, there were pictures of Karina as she developed through each stage of life. A bright, cheerful child, filled with sunshine and laughter. Just before they got to the end of the hall, an antique mirror hung on the left side of the wall. As Ed walked past the mirror, he stopped. For a brief second, he noted a darkening of the room behind him. No stranger to spiritual warfare, Ed breathed a prayer as Lucinda gripped the doorknob, her knuckles turning white. They entered the inner sanctum.
Ed looked around. He immediately became aware of a presence beyond themselves. A demonic force had been invited here. Karina's full size poster bed had been covered with black silk sheets. The dresser stood bare with the exception of three red candles in various stages of melting. Red candle wax stuck to the lacquered desktop. On the floor, Ed noted a large circle formed out of yarn. Karina had a desk in the back of her room to do school work. On this desk, Karina had set up a canvas and was working on a new painting, a hobby she had recently started. He stepped over to investigate it further. The picture was dark. Set against a black background, a formless entity appeared in the middle of the painting. It appeared to be a female melding into the surrounding blackness. Where a face would be, stood blurred features with the exception of a mouth held open in a scream. Behind this form, was a maroon stage curtain. In the center, the curtain was being pulled back by red talons.
Ed turned to Lucinda, whose cheeks were shining with rivulets of tears. Rather than responding in shock, disbelief, or judgment as Lucinda thought he would, Ed responded with authority and a voice deep with emotion and love, wielding the sword of the spirit.
"Lucinda, do you remember Romans 8:28? And we know that all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them."
"All things. From the time Karina was young, you and Rick have prayed the God would work out a mighty purpose in her life. She is called for God's purpose, just as Rick was."
Lucinda nodded.
Rick had spent the last two years of his life sharing the Bible with those sick and dying in the hospital. He had fulfilled his purpose. At Rick's funeral, his brother came to know the Lord. Even in death, Rick had brought life to another. Lucinda could see God's eternal purpose. Karina was unable to see it, or chose not to see it through her anger.
Lucinda looked at her watch. Karina would be here soon. She had been so unpredictable lately, it was difficult to know what she would do if she found them invading her territory. Ed noticed Lucinda's nervous glance. He placed his hand on her back in a fatherly manner.
"Lets make some phone calls and get a prayer chain going. If we plan to battle, we can't do it without prayer warriors interceding for us." Ed followed Lucinda into the dining room. She brought him the phone and he began to dial.
******
Karina got off the bus and pulled her black trench coat around her tightly. So cold. As she began her half mile walk home, she began to sense a stirring. She had outgrown the use of her makeshift Ouija board, as she could hear the voices speaking into her head. The friends that had once brought her comfort had become more demanding of her time and energy. They began to command her obedience and when she didn't comply, the voices became louder. Friends had become tormenters. They promised power and control. But their definition of that meant the more power they had, the more control she lost. And now, they were buzzing. Karina felt her heart beginning to pound as she walked home.
"What is it?" Karina began speaking to her inner voices.
"kill them" A chorus began to ring out repetitively in her head.
Beads of sweat began to appear on Karina's head. Her stomach began to churn. She knew what they wanted, what the voices demanded of her. They had claimed her life as their own. She had drawn out a plan to kill herself and her mother. Both of them sacrificed to the gods that called to her in the night.
"kill them" Karina reached into her coat pocket. She fingered the knife she had been carrying around for the past week.
"KILL THEM" The knife tingled as she ran her fingers along the edges. She felt a tightening around her throat that seemed to grow with the intensity of the chant. She turned the final corner of her walk and stopped. She released her grip rapidly from the knife. Her heart began to beat faster. She knew Pastor Ed well enough to recognize his rusty, white pick up that was sitting in the driveway. A bizarre mixture of both dread and relief began to flow through her veins. She wanted to run home. She wanted to flee as far away as she could. Karina's emotions had become intertwined with the entities that she invited to share her thoughts. She realized that she was afraid. Afraid of what? She had grown up with Pastor Ed. Afraid??
A set of yellow eyes glared behind Karina.
"You can't have her. She invited us. She's ours." A seething voice hissed at the warriors that began appearing around the house.
"She won't go. I won't let her" the reptilian voice spat again in protest. A brilliantly clothed warrior appeared behind him. A golden sword appeared in a bronze fist, poking at its scaled tail that had wrapped itself around Karina's neck. Azrael flinched. He briefly released his hold, but slithered behind obediently as she started walking slowly toward that house. It appeared to be bathed in light. Shuddering, Azrael continued whispering in Karina's ear. As she walked, Karina felt sweat forming in the palms of her hands. Waves of nausea were rising in her abdomen. As she approached the familiar house her legs felt weak. Standing on either side of the front door, seen clearly by Azrael, felt intensely by Karina, two warriors stood guard.
"Oh look what we have here," Raphael chuckled as he used his gleaming sword to point Azrael toward the entrance of the house. Raphael seemed to find humor in everything. An Angel of truth and healing, he was eager to begin his job. Micah, whose job was to bridge God's divine plan into the lives of humans, was a little more leery.
"Careful Raphael," he cautioned. "They may be small, but you know how tightly they hold." He nudged Azrael through the doorway. Two others remained behind to guard the entrance.
"You know the rules. She invited me, she's mine. You can't have her."
Pastor Ed and Lucinda had been sitting on the black leather couch in front of the window watching for Karina's arrival. Her eyes looked wild. She was walking slowly, pausing every few steps. Her gaze seemed to be set on the unseen.
"They are praying for us Lucinda. God has set his plan in motion. Be strong, and have faith."
Pastor Ed opened the door and met Karina eye to eye.
"I know the rules too." He stated squarely in response to the voice he had overheard.
The voice that came from Karina as she stepped in the doorway. A voice that didn't belong to her.
"Hi Karina, come on in! I've been waiting for you to come home." He shifted roles, talking directly to her.
Azrael was seething in anger as he was followed in by Micah and Raphael, who was beaming in confidence.
"And truth shall set you free." Raphael whispered to Azrael tauntingly as he moved to stand behind Pastor Ed and began using the edges of his snow white robe to shine the blade of his golden sword, upon which the word "TRUTH" was engraved in light.
Micah, the more subdued of the two, continued to stand behind Karina, his stares making Azrael fidget in discomfort.
Karina looked from Pastor Ed to her mother, who's red puffy eyes betrayed her heartbreak. She held out her hand and motioned for Karina to come sit on the couch with her. Karina wanted to run, but she felt a presence behind her that wouldn't allow it. She slowly made her way to the couch but sat as far away from her mother as she could. Defiantly, she rolled her eyes and looked away.
Pastor Ed brought a chair and sat it down in front of Karina. He watched her carefully. Below her cheekbones, he could see she was clenching her jaw. Her hands were balled up into fists and held between her knees. Her forehead was bunched forward in creases of anger. Her long blonde bangs hid much of her thickly lined, blue eyes. They were staring off into the distance, looking beyond the four walls of the room. Her body was tense. Her feet, adorned with unlaced combat boots were shaking, causing movement through her whole body.
Lucinda had moved past being defensive about this behavior. She stood up authoritatively and sat next to her. She placed her hand on Karina's back, while watching Pastor Ed. Karina stiffened. She felt a tingle run through her back.
"Karina, over the past year, I have watched your anger grow. I have seen you turn your back on God and I know you have run in the other direction. I know you aren't happy. You know that empty space inside you will never be filled by anything other the Christ. Your father knew that, and you know it." Lucinda's voice was filled with emotion. "Pastor Ed and I would like to help you."
Karina glanced from one to the other. Her head felt strangely dizzy and the room began to fade in and out. She was listening. Her mother's words seemed to drone in and out, the syllables blending together just beyond comprehension. Pastor Ed appeared to be praying silently.
Azrael glared at the angelic forces that were staring down at him. He wrapped his scaled, lizard like body around Karina and placed his gnarled claws over her ears.
"She can't hear you, she won't listen to you." An otherworldly voice snarled.
Pastor Ed glanced at Lucinda. She had heard it too. Karina appeared to be a million miles away, detached from the scene in front of her. Her hands, no longer fists, were gripping her knees in claw-like fashion. The only indication of response she had given.
Raphael, watching this scene, aimed his sword at the demon, eager to lash out and rid Karina of his filth.
Micah, knowing God had allowed mankind free will of choice, stepped in front of Raphael, temporarily halting his anger. "All in good time Raphael, you know the rules. Karina has to accept the truth and let go herself. We are here to give her the choice should she decide to allow God's plan into her life. We are here to defend her, only if she wants it. Put your sword down my friend. We must wait."
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