M
With a quick spin kick, I took the fool down in one hit. It was just like him, disobeying orders despite all that we had gone through. As I was appointed leader of this squad, he still was the stupid dog barking at squirrels at the end of his chain. I had to take action to put him in line every time.
After James had dropped down and been properly kicked in the face, I held out a hand to the poor Sidroy. He was a young lad, even younger than I, about 14 I suppose. Young souls were usually obedient and understanding, something I valued in a soldier. If he wasn’t so inexperienced he might have been a Commander himself. Sidroy is good where he is as a private. I had a love for him like I did for my brother back on Earth… These were my brothers now.
Tia ran in, her long black Indian hair bounced as she right away began to question us. “What happened? Are you okay Sidroy, aye Mijo! Did you get hurt?” I was holding on to Sidroy, with his arm over my shoulder, but I let Tia take him off my hands. She was a wonderful medic and would mend his wounds nicely. Perhaps even reverse that psychological damage the demon tried to inflict.
I had other problems to worry about. James was up and took a good opportunity to swing at me. His blood sprayed more than mine as the hit made its mark. I stumbled back, wiping the blood off my face. I wasn’t sure if it was mine’s or his, so I didn’t react at first. Instead, my fist curled into a tight ball and I lunged forward, ready to return the favor but my guardian angel froze my arm.
I couldn’t hit him. I admit, I was scared that he was going to take another golden opportunity to strike again, yet he didn’t. There was a dumbfounded expression on his face and I took that pause to jump back and walk away. Of course, my angel followed behind in a bright green flutter of little wings and landed on my shoulder to comfort me.
It didn’t take long for me to shake off the bad feelings. In my Earthly life it did not take me long to get rid of anger, but grudges were my one true weakness. The evil fox sitting, stalking, watching me as I sat in my own rotten stew of poison inhabited my house and even my own being for many years. It was the one who had taught me that years were not a long time to punish someone for wronging you and that physical punishment was not the way to do things. It wanted me to roast the person, slowly under a fire of hate until I could feast on the rewards of my patience. It was a good teacher at what it taught me. Years of mastering a dark art like that seemed like a shame when I had started my journey towards Christ.
I ran into a dozen more demons, the clank of my boots on the steel floor didn’t stop the pace of my feet. I only had to make a single slash to rid the corridor of filth, yet still, they multiplied. They clawed at my feet , clawed at my back and screeched in my ears. I didn’t even feel the one digging in my shoulders until I turned my head and bashed it into the wall. They wanted my soul and at a time of weakness, they really tried their best to get inside. In my head I was praying for strength, praying for peace and for Jesus to take my soul away from this place. God replied, ” Say your scriptures.” I was obedient to my King, and recited John 3:16. I was ashamed I didn’t know more. All I had was that verse to recite it over and over again. I even recited (Jesus wept) over and over again, thinking of what it meant to me. Jesus wept for us, not himself. He cried for the pain and suffering of the world because sin was unleashed onto his children. Jesus was almighty. Why would he cry? I tried my hand at remembering the very first pages of Genisis, making the monsters spread out and cower away from me. I was lucky. If it were an archdemon, I would have been done for. My nerves didn’t let me stop. I just repeated the same thing over and over again and when I even ran out of that, I just cried “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” I didn’t know what to do anymore , I would have gladly let my tongue blindly run like a river full of scriptures if I had the ability. Instead my boots ran the other way, back to my comrades. I couldn’t take the pain anymore. I realized that I needed my comrades. I needed my brothers.
Luckily I hadn’t run very far. In time, I found my comrades had taken the free area for themselves. The demon was decaying rather slowly, meaning it was probably still alive, refusing to slip away and back to hell. Ever heard of a lingering spirit? That means that the spirit has been banished from the Earth but is fighting to stay, or simply it is a demon that takes pleasure in sucking in those drawn in by their appealing aroma. Still more use deception and grab your attention by taking the identities of people, animals, and, if powerful enough demons, they can became inanimate objects to blend into the environment. Like ambush spiders on Earth; They enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Yet still, it all depends on the personality of the demon. One that specializes in rage will fight you differently than a spirit of despair and a specialized demon will fight based on what branches of the demon tree its composed of. For an example, you can expect a demon of revenge to fight like a rage demon, yet plot and scheme, even trap you like it were a spirit of lies. This demon that attacked us seemed like it was a chimera, composed of many different demons. Almost anything could be used to compose a demon, even technology. We suspected that it knew how to operate machinery, being Japanese in origin and the fact that it was up here orbiting Earth. But there’s no reason to investigate. It was dead and decaying now. As a Christian it is important to let things shrug off your shoulders.
In the far left I saw Morgan still cleaning up Samael. It was good news he was sitting up. It was probably a punch to the ego to be thrown around like a ragdoll. The look on his face was unreadable to me. Probably an emotional mix of many things, when summed up together the equation equaled defeat.
After James had dropped down and been properly kicked in the face, I held out a hand to the poor Sidroy. He was a young lad, even younger than I, about 14 I suppose. Young souls were usually obedient and understanding, something I valued in a soldier. If he wasn’t so inexperienced he might have been a Commander himself. Sidroy is good where he is as a private. I had a love for him like I did for my brother back on Earth… These were my brothers now.
Tia ran in, her long black Indian hair bounced as she right away began to question us. “What happened? Are you okay Sidroy, aye Mijo! Did you get hurt?” I was holding on to Sidroy, with his arm over my shoulder, but I let Tia take him off my hands. She was a wonderful medic and would mend his wounds nicely. Perhaps even reverse that psychological damage the demon tried to inflict.
I had other problems to worry about. James was up and took a good opportunity to swing at me. His blood sprayed more than mine as the hit made its mark. I stumbled back, wiping the blood off my face. I wasn’t sure if it was mine’s or his, so I didn’t react at first. Instead, my fist curled into a tight ball and I lunged forward, ready to return the favor but my guardian angel froze my arm.
I couldn’t hit him. I admit, I was scared that he was going to take another golden opportunity to strike again, yet he didn’t. There was a dumbfounded expression on his face and I took that pause to jump back and walk away. Of course, my angel followed behind in a bright green flutter of little wings and landed on my shoulder to comfort me.
It didn’t take long for me to shake off the bad feelings. In my Earthly life it did not take me long to get rid of anger, but grudges were my one true weakness. The evil fox sitting, stalking, watching me as I sat in my own rotten stew of poison inhabited my house and even my own being for many years. It was the one who had taught me that years were not a long time to punish someone for wronging you and that physical punishment was not the way to do things. It wanted me to roast the person, slowly under a fire of hate until I could feast on the rewards of my patience. It was a good teacher at what it taught me. Years of mastering a dark art like that seemed like a shame when I had started my journey towards Christ.
I ran into a dozen more demons, the clank of my boots on the steel floor didn’t stop the pace of my feet. I only had to make a single slash to rid the corridor of filth, yet still, they multiplied. They clawed at my feet , clawed at my back and screeched in my ears. I didn’t even feel the one digging in my shoulders until I turned my head and bashed it into the wall. They wanted my soul and at a time of weakness, they really tried their best to get inside. In my head I was praying for strength, praying for peace and for Jesus to take my soul away from this place. God replied, ” Say your scriptures.” I was obedient to my King, and recited John 3:16. I was ashamed I didn’t know more. All I had was that verse to recite it over and over again. I even recited (Jesus wept) over and over again, thinking of what it meant to me. Jesus wept for us, not himself. He cried for the pain and suffering of the world because sin was unleashed onto his children. Jesus was almighty. Why would he cry? I tried my hand at remembering the very first pages of Genisis, making the monsters spread out and cower away from me. I was lucky. If it were an archdemon, I would have been done for. My nerves didn’t let me stop. I just repeated the same thing over and over again and when I even ran out of that, I just cried “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” I didn’t know what to do anymore , I would have gladly let my tongue blindly run like a river full of scriptures if I had the ability. Instead my boots ran the other way, back to my comrades. I couldn’t take the pain anymore. I realized that I needed my comrades. I needed my brothers.
Luckily I hadn’t run very far. In time, I found my comrades had taken the free area for themselves. The demon was decaying rather slowly, meaning it was probably still alive, refusing to slip away and back to hell. Ever heard of a lingering spirit? That means that the spirit has been banished from the Earth but is fighting to stay, or simply it is a demon that takes pleasure in sucking in those drawn in by their appealing aroma. Still more use deception and grab your attention by taking the identities of people, animals, and, if powerful enough demons, they can became inanimate objects to blend into the environment. Like ambush spiders on Earth; They enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Yet still, it all depends on the personality of the demon. One that specializes in rage will fight you differently than a spirit of despair and a specialized demon will fight based on what branches of the demon tree its composed of. For an example, you can expect a demon of revenge to fight like a rage demon, yet plot and scheme, even trap you like it were a spirit of lies. This demon that attacked us seemed like it was a chimera, composed of many different demons. Almost anything could be used to compose a demon, even technology. We suspected that it knew how to operate machinery, being Japanese in origin and the fact that it was up here orbiting Earth. But there’s no reason to investigate. It was dead and decaying now. As a Christian it is important to let things shrug off your shoulders.
In the far left I saw Morgan still cleaning up Samael. It was good news he was sitting up. It was probably a punch to the ego to be thrown around like a ragdoll. The look on his face was unreadable to me. Probably an emotional mix of many things, when summed up together the equation equaled defeat.