Darkness of Heaven Book 1 Rising Force

Storm clouds move over the archaeological excavation site. We can hear the sound of picks, shovels, and digging over the grounds. Diana Phoenix, a tenacious brunette, dressed in her archaeological digs is standing over a recently dug-up fossil, of a reptilian bi-peddler species, one of the greatest finds of the century.

”This is fascinating. Perhaps it’s a gargoyle, or maybe something older. I’m not quite sure, but I do know that Mr. Blackwell will definitely be pleased with this finding,” she enthuses with excitement while taking photographs with her holographic phone.

Jake, a rugged-looking fellow, the foreman of the site, steps up next to her,

“Diana, we need to secure the artifact. A storm is approaching,” he explains, pointing to the sky. Diana glances over her shoulder and sees the odd red streaks, flashing in the distance. She feels a bit nervous at the sight of the eerie sky,

“They look like lightning sprites, very dangerous indeed” she expresses with urgency.

“Jake, get everybody to safety, I’ll collect the skull,” she commands as she looks down at her new find.

“This is definitely not good,” she adds calmly.

Jake yells out to his employees herding them to safety,

“Come on, come on, let’s get out of here; everybody to safety.”

The winds pick up the papers, the tools are being blown about, and the workers run amok gathering their things and ducking for cover as lightning bolts strike the area strategically. Diana snatches the reptilian skull, making her way to her tent. The storm dissipates and the sky clears, showing the sun once again. Diana peeks her head out from the tent to see if the coast is clear.

“Diana, are you alright?” Jake asks.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she says.

“What are you going to do now; what’s the game plan? You know I am just kind of curious,” Jake questions feeling intuitively nervous from the sudden upraise of the storm.

“I’m packing up the skull and taking it to the museum before anything else goes wrong,” she says, smilingly, as she locks up the skull in an archaeological crate.

The veteran archaeologist grabs the contents and heads out of the tent. Efficient as ever, she stops, glancing over her shoulder,

“Hey Jake, can you be a sweetheart, and grab me those records?” she kindly asks.

“Yeah sure, no problem, no problem at all,” he mumbles, retrieving the data records, as he follows Diana to the back to her truck where she places the crate, then climbs hastily into the truck as Jake hands her the documents.

“Here you go Diana, here are the documents you requested,” he says.

Diana glanced through them and placed them on the passenger- seat next to her.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she says, starting up her vehicle.

“So Diana, what are you doing tonight?” Jake awkwardly asks.

“First, as I said, I’m going to drop off this artifact at the museum, then I’m going to head out and meet with my husband to celebrate our great discovery,” she says with a smile.

“Wow that sounds like fun,” Jake says with a hint of sarcasm.

“What about you Jake? You got someone waiting at home to celebrate with?” she asks, absentmindedly.

Jake chuckles.

“I’m not as blessed as you are Dianna. So I’m just goanna stay back as I usually do and cleanup for you. Do. Have a good night,” he says, forcing a smile.

“Sorry Jake, you’ll get your break one day. You’ll see, all this too will pass. Have a good night,” she encourages as she drives off into the sunset.

Jake removes his hat, scratches his head, places his hat back on his head, and he just laughs.

“Easier than you think Diana. At least you get to go home with someone while I am here cleaning up to impress you. For what?

“The way my luck has it, I’ll probably be a hundred before someone chooses to be with me.” He sarcastically replies to himself as he waves goodbye.

“I wish someone would just shoot me now and get it over with,” he angrily says to himself, as a wave of depression washes over him.

Jake turns and meets a bullet between his eyes from a P22 silencer.

We now see two agents eyeing Diana’s direction. The first agent pulls out his holographic phone and pushes a button to dial. We see a deep silhouette of a man on the HUD display.

“Mr. Blackwell, she’s on her way,” the agent reports in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Excellent,” says Mr. Blackwell as he hangs up.

The two agents climb back into their vehicle, and they drive off in Diana’s wake.

REVELATIONS

The city of Areth is the crown jewel of the modern-day city of Babylon. Thunder is heard in the distance as rain pours down over the night city. A nineteenth-century Museum of natural science and history, its structure fills one city block; its arches stand out invitingly.

Diana arrives. She exits the taxi carrying the case with the skull. She climbs the stairs and enters the building. Her high heels echo against the polished marble floors, as she marches forward to the main hall of the Museum.

She passes through the glass exhibit that displays rare relics of ancient times. She enters the chambers, where the only thing that is lit in the center of the room is the examining table. “Welcome, Dr. Phoenix, I hope your trip was successful?” echoed the voice of Mr. Blackwell who is on the scene hidden in the shadows, and greets her as she moves closer to the table.

“Mr. Blackwell, the museum is going to love what we just found. The find will fill a gap in the Jurassic displays. I cannot wait to see it cleaned up,” she greets Demetrius.

A gentleman dressed in a three-piece suit, leaning on his golden decorative walking cane, emerges from the shadows. She puts the case on top of the examining table and opens it up.

“What did you find Mrs. Phoenix?” he asks, moving closer to see the bi-peddler skull.

“Proof that they were bi-peddler reptiles that walked on Adamah, but the mystery is how they were here in the first place”, she states as Demetrius inspects the object with a smile.

“Dr. Phoenix you did well, and what are we planning to call this relic of the past, for convenience?” Demetrius asks politely, ignoring her earlier musings.

“Draco”

“That sounds fitting,” he says, suddenly serious and staring intently at the skull.

Then as if possessed, Demetrius averts his eyes.

“Let me introduce you to my assistant Gwen,” Demetrius announces.

“Evening” Gwen says.

A slender woman steps up next to Demetrius. Blonde hair, ruby red lips, and green eyes, she’s dressed in a three-piece women’s attire. Sashaying past Diana, she examines the skull, with her manicured nails, flicking a DNA scanner from her sequined pouch.

“This skull is authentic,” Gwen says gawking at Diana, with a hint of contrivance.

“Does anyone else know about this rare finding?” she asks coldly and abruptly.

“Just my husband who’s actually investigating more on the finding. He will be, in a few days, at White Mountain Peak,” Diana explains but stops short as if sensing that she might be revealing too much.

“Pity……,” Gwen coldly says.

The two agents who murder Jake step out of the shadows taking hold of Diana by her arms. “What is the meaning of this Mr. Blackwell?” Diana, racking her brain for a possible escape route, as she struggles to free herself.

Demetrius picks up the skull admiring the beauty of its structure.

“Dr. Phoenix, I’ve put my money into your organization and you did deliver, but this finding cannot go public,” he explains, in a slow, deliberate tone.

“Mr. Blackwell, you hired me to find this rare artifact and I did. So what is happening?” She argues trying to free herself from the grip of the agents, as she begins to apprehend their true motive.

”You’re good at what you do Diana, but this is only business. If I let you go, you’ll tell the world about these bi-peddler creatures, and we simply cannot allow this,” he intimates.

“Why? The people have a right to know the truth, Mr. Blackwell,” Diana raises her voice

“Truth is what we make of it Diana, and if the people know about this truth, our Society will crumble,” explains Demetrius.

“You mean, your control over the masses keeps blinders on those who don’t know,” Diana replies with vehemence.

“You’re quite intelligent and you’re correct Diana, and you can rest peacefully knowing this truth,” Demetrius says coldly.

Gwen pulls a small pistol from under her thigh pointing it at Diana, and she struggles harder to free herself, feeling her life under threat.

“This is absurd, let me go!” she demands, heart thumping.

“Diana we are the shadows that control the governments of all the nations, we control the school systems, space operations, science, and religion, and we are the gods of the nations,” Demetrius boastfully reviews the truth

A look of disbelief and regret, mingled with fear, skims over Diana’s eyes,

“Simple my dear, because we’re at war with the Creator and his Son for the right to rule over Adamah. Our Canaanite ancestors gave us purpose, and our goal is to eradicate ninety percent of the human population to issue a one world order, for a perfect Utopia.” he boastfully states.

Diana, reeling with fear, mumbles to herself, “I should have listened, as Khan Says, The bi peddler is the combination of genetic splicing used by these crooks. It’s sickening. And here I had thought they were scientists. Too late…”

Gwen cocks her gun ready to shoot on command. Demetrius overs hear Diana’s weak mumbles,

“You’re absolutely correct, the bi-peddler creatures were a hybrid of reptilian and human genetics. Smart of you to find something buried way back in the deluge, so fast! Now with their DNA, my super soldier force scheme is coming to fruition!” Demetrius proudly states.

“You are truly a sick and delusional man, Mr. Blackwell, and I pity you,” Diana spits in the last ounce of life.

“Goodbye, Diana. It was nice doing business with you. If it’s any consolation, your husband will be joining you soon,” he coldly says, shuffling back into the shadows, once more.

Gwen smiles and pulls the trigger.

“BLAM”

Diana falls in slow motion, hitting the floor. We slowly come into focus on Diana’s eyes. Full of tears, as they grow cold with death. We eye her wedding ring that sparkles in the light, juxtaposed against the ascending darkness.

Gwen steps over her as she leaves the premises alongside Demetrius and the two agents.

IDOL

Agent Khan Phoenix is dressed in his dungaree jacket, jeans, boots, and a black cowboy hat. He comes through the trees and emerges into a clearing in the woods. Khan sees a Shed in the clearing up ahead. A bright light is posted over the shed, and he shines his flashlight around the outside.

The Sheriff stands with his Deputies at the small Native Museum. His walkie-talkie crackles to life, and Khan is heard on the receiver.

“Sheriff! Khan explains, “I think this kid has the Idol.”

“Location, the Sheriff asks.”

“I’m at a utility shed maybe half a mile from your location,” Khan says.

“On our way,” The Sheriff says, releasing his finger from the walkie-talkie.

Khan makes his way to the shed and he sees that the door is open just a crack. He draws his gun not knowing what to expect. On the door is a sign marked,

“DANGER.”

He cautiously enters the Shed; its small area is packed with electrical equipment, power cables, and various implements for repairing power lines.

Khan sweeps through the Shed with his flashlight with a gun in hand. He approaches a large transformer module that sits at the back of the shed. It hums and crackles with electricity.

There’s a low shuffling sound, and Khan stops. He carefully peers around behind the transformer. The space is too small for a man But sitting on the ground behind the transformer is a young Native American boy holding a glowing ruby thunderbird statue.

Seeing Khan the boy clutches himself, shivering, with fright. Khan sheaths his gun and shows compassion for the boy. Khan flashes his badge, to show who he is

“Are you okay, son? Are there any other kids around?” Khan asks.

“I don’t know... I don’t remember…” said the boy.

“Why don’t we start with your name? Do you remember your name?” Khan asks.

“White Cloud,” the boy answered.

Khan pulls out a small device from his belt. Upon transformation, it becomes a crate appropriate for the size of the Native Artifact Idol.

“Okay, White Cloud, listen to me carefully. That statue in your hands is causing you to forget things. I don’t know why you stole this idol. However, these idols are cursed objects. Therefore I am going to need you to hand it back to me,” Khan explains to the boy.

The boy looks at the glowing idol, then back at Kahn. The boy hears dark whispers coming off the Idol, but he overcomes his temptation by handing the Thunderbird Idol over to Khan.

Khan places the idol into the storage crate, helps the young boy to his feet, and walks with him away from the dangerous area. As they approached Khan’s motorcycle, the Sheriff and his deputies were standing by waiting.

“I have the artifact, and White Cloud here needs to be returned to his reservation, at once.” Khan gave the command.

I agree, Agent Phoenix,” replied the local Sheriff.

Khan jumps on his motorcycle and rides off.

SOLICITUDE

Outside of Lisa’s Tavern, a favorite PUB of top academia. Logs and sturdy wooden beams make up most of the building’s outer structure, emanating a warm glow of joviality, which explains its popularity.

A warm ambiance is created by the jukebox in the tavern through the old wooden door. The fireplace crackles. A bartender working at his station welcomes customers with a short wave and a smile.

Khan Phoenix is sitting at the bar, and Gibbons Silverstone is sitting next to him, who’s dressed in Cossack trousers, silk waistcoat, dress shoes, bowler hat, and 19th-century light blue wire-frame glasses.

The two men are sitting at the bar, sipping on their drinks.

“Thank you for that thoughtful gift, it came in handy,” Khan says.

“So you retrieved the Native Artifact?” Gibbons replies.

“Sure did. I also returned it to the native Museum.” Khan says sipping on his drink.

“Did you see Diana?” Gibbons asked.

“It’s been three days since I’ve heard from her, and I have an investigation at the White Mountain ranch tomorrow,” Khan casually grumbles to his brother-in-law, as he takes moderate gulps of his drink.

“Well, most of us know how Diana gets at times, like last year she did this to you with some kind of misunderstanding between you two, and it was weeks before you heard from her. I really wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Gibbons says as he sips on his drink.

Gibbons glances at Kahn who is feeling perturbed.

“But….tomorrow night there is an event at the Museum. Most likely she’ll be there,” Gibbons says, assuring.

Khan motions to the bartender to fill his glass.

“Yes, you’re right, she wouldn’t miss that event. I trust you know your sister better,” he agrees.

The Bartender fills their drinks as they continue

“Yeah, you’re probably right. If it were up to her, she would have checked into some hotel,” Gibbons laughed.

“I just wish I knew what I did this time to piss her off,” Khan asks, half complaining.

The two of them gulp down their drinks and head out of the tavern. Gibbons climbs into his van, as Khan climbs onto his motorcycle and they go their separate ways.

FOSSIL

There are many winter activities to enjoy in White Mountain Peak during the winter season. These include hiking, skiing, ice skating, sleigh rides, horseback riding, and some warm hot chocolate to melt away the frostbite.

The sound of a snowmobile racing through the open wintery terrain early morning is audible as Khan zooms across the pine forest and arrives at Silver Stone Horse Ranch.

A tall slender man dressed in his rancher’s outfit adjusts his hat and approaches Khan who dismounts from his snowmobile. Khan shows his Law Enforcement Badge.

I received a call earlier this week regarding an artifact you found?” Khan asks.

“Good day officer, my name is Earl Thomas, and yes I did find something,” replied the tall lanky man as he shook Khan’s hand.

“I usually don’t get strangers around these parts, but this was too unusual, especially for this season,” explains the horse rancher.

“You’d be surprised how often artifacts just pop up out of nowhere,” Khan says.

Earl shows the Bi-peddler fossil claw, with fossilized rings still attached to its fingers.

“I imagine you’d know more about this than I would,” Earl says with questions in his mind.

Khan takes the claw, and examines it; he shakes his head.

“A claw with rings is a fascinating find. Where did you say you found this?” Khan asks, doubtfully and with curiosity.

Earl points to the river behind his house.

“Big Horn Creek, it cuts through here. Especially on rainy days. The waters flow down from those hills and drop whatever it picks up on its way down,” he explains.

He beckons Khan to follow him to the shoreline of the river, still damp with fresh snow.

“It was just sitting here like it was waiting for me to pick it up,” he explains.

Khan looks at the river, his eyes following it up to the hills.

“How long do you think it would take somebody like me to find out what’s up there?” Khan asks.

Earl looks up at the hills, squinting his eyes.

“The distance up there at that high point is an hour, and the climb takes about a half hour

Earl glances at the fossil, then back at Khan, and asks,

“Is something like this of any real value?”

Khan glance

“Frankly, no telling. Sometimes these things pay off and sometimes they don’t, but don’t give up hope. I’m sure some museum or collector would pay handsomely for something like this. But I am here to confirm its authenticity,” Khan explains.

“Yes... This might just be it... This winter is quite mild but if you need anything just give me a holler, it’s the least I can do for your troubles.” Earl offers.

“Matter of fact, I’ll borrow one of your horses,” Khan kindly says.

Earl laughs as he leads Khan to his stables.

“These are the finest horses in these parts,” Earl boasts as he mounts a horse for his guest.

“Thank you, Sir, I’ll be back soon,” he says as he rides off.

An hour has passed. Khan stops and studies the rugged terrain. He dismounts from the horse and talks to her while petting her.

“Well, I should be getting to work. Gotta secure any potential sites before any uncouth elements come up,” Khan says, grabbing his hiking gear.

Khan makes his ascent up the rocky hillside. Thirty minutes pass, and he’s exhausted from the climb. He sits on a rock catching his breath, pulls out a canteen, and downs a swig to quench his thirst.

He takes his holographic phone and looks around. He notices a part of the hillside has fallen down, exposing a bipedal graveyard.

Deliberately, he approaches the bones, taking snapshots with his holographic phone.

“Get a load of this, Dino’s wearing jewels; that is something you don’t see every day,” he laughed to himself.

He uploads the photos and walks to the edge of the hillside looking over the grave. A shadow of a man comes up from behind him with a blunt object, dealing a fatal blow to the back of his head.

All we can see is the back of the assailant in a long trench coat and hat. He walks away with a decorative walking cane, as Khan lies dead with the bones of the past.

RISING FORCE

Khan awakes in an unstable gait, half shielding his eyes to adjust to the brightness that surrounds him. He stands and finds himself in a stark landscape; snow is suddenly absent, and all that is seen is white with mist where there is no beginning nor end.

“Where am I?” Khan questions himself.

He walks forward for what seems like an eternity trying to figure out what has happened and how he arrived in the mysterious limbo. Out of the clearing of the mist, Khan ceases abruptly and he sees an extremely tall man of behemoth proportions, dressed in a Levitical Priest garment, with a breastplate, sash, and crown on his brow.

His hair and beard are white as wool, he stands before an altar of incense. Behind the tall man is a golden transparent wall, with flames dancing within, its exotic Hebrew picture text appearing over the surface. Khan tries to pass the tall man a few times, but the priest gently nudges him back continuously.

Khan, feeling exhausted from his many attempts, stands there looking at the tall man.

“Who are you?” Khan asks.

The towering figure looks at Khan with a most serious look,

“I am Melchizedek, the keeper of the Book of Life,” he gently says.

His benevolent air surrounds him, as he gazes at Khan.

“Now sir, please kindly hold out your hand,” he instructs Khan.

Khan complies and holds out his hand, as Melchizedek hands him a pristine white stone.

“Now close your hand,” he says.

Khan looks at him with uncertainty, but reluctantly, he complies with the tall priest’s request,

“Now tell me your name,” says Melchizedek.

Khan makes a tight fist over the white stone; he then opens his hand and sees his new name. In the Hebrew script, it reads “AZRAEL”, and strangely, he understood it.

“I am called Azrael,” Khan replies, bewildered.

Melchizedek looks at the wall, and the name “AZRAEL” is etched in the Hebrew text with flames on the wall from right to left.

“You may now pass, Azrael, for Yahuah awaits you” Melchizedek declares.

Khan falls to his knees with awe and trembling at the wondrous sight.

“Woe is me, what has befallen unto me?” he expresses out loud.

A strange sense of dread overshadows him. His days as a law enforcer, the good and bad, flash before him.

“My judgment has come unto me quickly,” he continues to say.

He buries his face into his hands with shame,

“Get yourself ready, stand up, do not be afraid,” says the voice of Gavri’el, the oracle of Yahuah as he appears before him.

Again, he seemed to know him without being told. Khan stands to his feet and he sees Gavri’el, who stands like a giant of a man with a wide, trim girth. He’s dressed in white linen, Chrome Steel armor, with an emblem of the menorah on his breastplate. His hair is black as a raven’s feathers, fastened with seven lockets, and a belt of fine gold wrapped around his waist.

“Take courage Azrael, you have been called to stand before Yahuah’s face, now come with me Son of Man,” Gavri’el says as he unfurls his wings.

Khan, unable to move because of fear, speak out,

“Oh, Son of Fire, my soul is departing from me, due to the terror that grips my heart.”

Gavri’el places his hand on Khan’s shoulder, seemingly not addressing his concerns and they disappear.

Khan stands next to Gavri’el as they reappear before the throne of Yahuah. Khan’s eyes are full of awe as he finds himself in a magnificent throne room.

“Welcome to the Throne room of Aravoth,” Gavri’el declares.

Khan finds himself standing on a sea of glass, and beneath the glass, he sees Adamah in a bird’s eye view, its shape like a round tabletop.

“Adamah is flat? Not the heliocentric model as our scientists have made us believe! How interesting.” Khan says to himself, shaking his head with skepticism.

He shifts his eyes, and sees seven large menorahs before the Sapphire Throne, they magically light themselves illuminating the area. Three large Malakhim appear with decorative armor. They circle Khan.

“Fear, not Azrael, this is my brother and my two sisters,” Gavri’el says as he welcomes his kin.

The First Mal’akh stands slightly taller than all three of the Malakhim, His gold armor has the emblem of a Lion’s head; his tress is a golden blonde with a thick beard.

“This is the Arch-Mal’akh Miyka’el, Champion of Shamayim, Guardian of Yisra’el,” Gavri’el introduces.

Miyka’el fixes his gaze on Khan,

“Greetings Warrior of Adamah,” he says, taking his position next to him.

The second Mal’akh takes her position next to Miyka’el; she carries the emblem of an Eagle on her breastplate. Her hair is red as fire, her armor gold with sapphire.

“This is my sister Uriel, guardian of humanity, the conquer of Azazel,” Gavri’el introduces.

Uriel shakes Khan’s hand,

“Son of Man it’s an honor to meet you” she greets.

The third Mal’akh stands like an amazon woman with an emblem of an ox on her breastplate of brass. Her brown hair is braided into a ponytail.

“This is my sister Suri’el, the protector of Noah and the Hebrew bloodline,” Gavri’el introduces.

Suri’el smiles,

“It’s such an honor to meet you, oh he’s adorable, isn’t he?” she says.

Miyka’el puts his hand on Suri’el’s shoulder.

“Sister, please you’re embarrassing us,” he tells her, trying not to react.

“Please forgive our sister, she is a bit emotional at times,” Uriel says.

“No problem, I get it,” Khan says.

Gavri’el steps, clearing his throat,

“Together, we are the four Keruv who stand before Yahuah. We are known as the Hayyoth, a title that has been given to us for standing up against the great rebellion,” Gavri’el explains.

He glances at Suri’el, then back at Khan,

“And I am Gavri’el the Oracle of Yahuah,” he introduces himself.

Miyka’el steps behind Khan,

“Yahuah is approaching,” he announces.

Miyka’el shields Khan with his wings from the glory of the Father of Creation.

The throne lights up as Yahuah takes his seat.

“I am Aleph and Tav. Apart from me, there are no gods, nor have I created any gods. I know not one,” he declares.

Miyka’el unfurls his wings standing next to Khan. Yahuah’s eyes are fixated on the child of clay. Khan’s eyes behold the appearance of Yahuah’s face.

The Creator’s face is like iron, made to glow with fire, and when brought out of the forge, his face emits sparks, but his face is marvelous with awe, which no human words can express or see clearly.

Khan bows before Yahuah.

“Azrael, do not fear, arise and stand before me, look into the face of eternity,” Yahuah says, giving courage to Khan.

“Miyka’el, help Azrael to his feet, and bring him before me, likewise remove his fleshly garments, anoint him with my sweet ointment and clothe him in the garment of my glory,” Yahuah commands.

Miyka’el waves his hand over Khan and he is transformed into a seven-foot giant of light, as it was in the beginning with the first man.

“Yeshua, Shekinah come and meet our new champion,” Yahuah declares.

Appearing before Yahuah’s right hand is Yeshua, who is dressed in a white robe reaching down to his feet, and silver armor with a golden sash around his chest.

His hair and beard are white as snow, his eyes blazing like fire. His feet are like bronze glowing in a furnace, his voice like calming waters.

“Fear not Khan, your wife Diana is in Paradise,”

Yeshua assures him as Diana appears next to the Son of Yahuah with a smile.

Shocked, Azrael tries to process; as he was already wondering if he himself had crossed over, and now to think that Diana, whose whereabouts he had been wondering about, was presented in this manner. He did not know what to think.

Yeshua reached out and touched his heart and he was strangely comforted, if only for a while. Khan stares at Diana, feeling the loss and the incompetence of not being able to protect her, all at the same time.

“Can you please return Diana to me?” Khan pleads.

Yeshua places his hands on Khan’s shoulders once again to bring comfort, “Hear me, my friend, I cannot for Diana’s safety, she must remain. Besides, she has done all she can do. If we permit her to return, her soul would be choked from the cares of her work.

She’s too precious in our eyes to let her go back to Adamah where she would lose her soul to gain the wealth of the nations,” Yeshua explains.

Khan apprehended this. Diana was a workaholic. With the evil forces creeping on the horizon, big money would have been her curse.”

Khan feels shalom from Yeshua.

Then as if his loss had become vapor, Shekinah appears at Yahuah’s left hand, her appearance is that of a young lady with profound ice blue eyes, long white hair, translucent at sight, but she’s covered in linen and armor which are mixed with sapphire gold and silver.

Khan sees the daughter of Yahuah and he respects her, as the WISDOM personified in the book of Proverbs and she speaks aloud.

“I am the Lady of Wisdom and Truth, I have broken your chains, and our Father is calling you his son,” she says to Khan.

Yeshua places his thumb on Khan’s forehead and the name of Yahuah in the Paleo Hebrew script, burns into his forehead, with no pain.

“I am putting my seal upon you today. You will be my warrior to crush the kingdom of darkness.” Yeshua ordains.

Then he puts His arm around Khan Shoulder like a brother with urgency,

“Walk with me,” he says.

As they walk a distance from the throne. Yeshua explains Azrael’s purpose,

“You were created for the glory of our Father and today we anoint you to be our warrior to crush the kingdom of Darkness underfoot. You are a remit of Ya’akov from the tribe of Dan and you are our last judge till the day I return. From this day on you will be called Azrael, Yahuah’s help.” Yeshua declared.

Khan stays silent and ponders Yeshua’s words, he looks at Diana one last time and then back to Yeshua.

“I do understand your point, but why me?” Khan asks.

Yeshua smiles,

“Why not you? Your heart is in the right place, you seek justice. Your motives are pure,” Yeshua says with a smile.

“I am just one man in a world of darkness, where evil and wickedness rule the nations and how those who are in charge twist the laws, perverting the truth, crushing the hope, slaughtering the innocent for their own personal wealth.”

“What can one man do in this Darkness of Heaven?” Khan questions.

Yeshua takes a deep breath, and folds his hands behind his back, as he looks over the horizon of Shamayim,

“With Yahuah, anything is possible. If Yahuah is before you, who can stand against you? Azrael, a light needs to shine in the darkness” Yeshua responds.

“Remember how Yahuah delivered your people from the tyranny of the kings of the nations, slaughtering the giants and monsters, how He fought for your freedom and gave you His Torah. Even though many have forgotten Him, He has not forgotten you or those who are called by His name,” Yeshua says.

“I do understand, but the fears I face are deep within me, and it brings me doubts at times, so I question my abilities and my purpose. In truth Yeshua I don’t want to do wrong before you or Father,” Azrael explains, feeling the complexity of his heart.

Yeshua speaks to encourage him.

“Listen to me my friend, you need not to fear, our Father has made you strong as steel, fast as the wind, and he will endow you with knowledge and understanding.

You are the rising force of destruction against the kingdom of darkness. No weapons will prosper against you. As long as you obey the law of Yahuah’s decrees, his commandments, his moedim; all will be well with thee,” Yeshua states with authority.

Khan stands there not knowing what to say.

“Now I will send you back to Adamah, and when you awake you will not be the same. I have given you a new body, and a new name. I will send friends to aid you in your quest. You may live your life normally, but you will see the wickedness of darkness come to full maturity, before my return as Mashiach,” Yeshua declares.

Khan takes the words of Yeshua to heart. Reluctant but strangely imbued with a new sense of purpose, Khan feels compelled to take on this new mission. An amalgam of emotions overwhelms him. He dismisses his doubts as he feels the sense of purpose that drives his new self-identity.

“Not my will, but Yahuah’s will be done,” he declares.

Yeshua smiles as he gently pushes him away with his mind opening a portal.

“Now leave, friend. They will fight against you, but they will not overcome you, for I am with you to rescue you.” Yeshua assures Azrael.

Azrael vanishes through the portal in a flood of light.

REVENANT

The sky flickers with lightning, rain pours down over the Areth cemetery. Gibbons stands in a raincoat, holding his umbrella solemnly before the two tombstones of Khan and Diana Phoenix.

“Well, it’s been a long year since you two have been gone. They still haven’t brought your murderer in for Justice. But I know who it is. I am working on getting evidence to bring him in, I wish you were here, this world has gotten crazier since you’ve two been gone. I do miss you. Well, I will stop by later. Love you guys. Gibbons says, with a heavy heart shuffling away.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt strikes Khan’s grave. The ground quakes violently. The ground rips apart as Azrael, alias Khan, bursts out from the grave, in his birthday suit. Standing seven feet tall with the proportions of a bodybuilder, Gibbons is wide-eyed with fright at this spectacle.

“Oh crap, you’re a Revenant, stay away from me!” Gibbons shouts.

Azrael moves toward him.

“Gibbons it’s me, Khan. I am not an animated corpse to haunt the living,” Azrael says.

“Prove it,” Gibbons says slowly backing away.

“Remember your ex-girlfriend, Lisa, how I locked her in a locker when she cheated on you,” Azrael states, trying to jolt his memory and make his status credible to the horrified brother.

Gibbons stops and looks awkwardly at Azrael, before slowly scrutinizing the giant, and with a slight hand gesture, he yells out.

“Khan, is ye high and you are a giant, so how are you Kahn again?” Gibbons questions.

Azrael shows his hand like Native Americans do in the old west to greet.

“Look, I have five fingers on each hand; five toes on each foot. I am not a Nephilim,” Azrael says, trying to calm his old friend.

Azrael shivers in the evening air, butt naked, with mud stains on his fair-skinned limbs and torso.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I saw the face of Yahuah personally and had a personal encounter?” Azrael asks.

“Yaha--what? I don’t know what or who you’re talking about. I am confused, but if you’re referring to the God that I do know, then I would have to say that you’re out of your mind,” Gibbons says as he hyperventilates.

“Another thing I noticed, by the way, is the sound of your voice has an echo surrounding it. So I…but... are you a specter?” Gibbons curiously asks.

“No I am not a ghost, calm down Gibbons. I am not your enemy,” Azrael reassures.

“If what you’re telling me is the truth, I’m having a difficult time believing this and quite frankly you are freaking me out! You and Diana have been dead for over a year and now you just pop out of the ground like a flower.

How do you think I’m supposed to react?” Gibbons expresses himself with sarcasm.

Gibbons breathed to calm down, since his brother-in-law certainly did not seem that intimidating, except that he seemed to have a heroic disposition about him who appeared even taller, from what he remembered him to be.

Azrael stops pacing and stares meaningfully at his confused brother.

“Gibbons, look at me, I’m naked in this cold rain, and starving and I am thirsty. Come on! Give me a break,” Azrael pleads.

Gibbons stops and now that he has regained his composure and wits, he reluctantly decides to take his coat off and tosses it to Azrael.

“Cover yourself with this,” Gibbons says.

Azrael catches the coat and covers his waist.

“What should I call you?” Gibbons asks, knowing the ways of the spirit realm and one’s emergence from death.

“Quick-witted as always, Gibbons. Indeed, I have been given a new name, I am now called A-Z-RA-EL meaning Help of Yahuah. Look, Gibbons, it’s good old me--just in a more gilded state.

Gibbons looks on with hesitation.

“You’ve got to trust me, brother. Oh come on, why would a naked guy be talking to you, in the middle of the night in a thunderstorm?” Azrael wondered.

Gibbons takes a deep breath and reluctantly gives in to Azrael’s plea.

“Follow me, by the looks of it you will not be able to fit in any normal size vehicle, thankfully I did bring a vehicle tonight that will most likely be able to carry you,” Gibbons says, with a sigh of relief.

Gibbons leads Azrael from the cemetery to his usual cargo van, Gibbons says, “Welcome to the Dagonslayer,” as if he is playing a role and awaiting his destiny. Azrael catches sight of a Chinese dragon on the side of the vehicle. He looks at Gibbons and then back at the vehicle,

Azrael sarcastically says, “Dagonslayer seriously.”

“I thought it was fitting since you and I used to play Dungeons & Dragons. I bought it last fall when I was thinking of you and Diana. By the way, coincidentally, I entered into business as a paranormal investigator; this dragon is to remind me of my true enemy,” Gibbons states as he opens the back of the van.

Azrael eyes the van.

“I sure hope I can fit in this thing or I may have to put myself on a diet.” he chuckles to himself.

He reluctantly climbs into the back of the van.

“Here we go,” he says.

The van sinks low due to Azrael’s weight.

“It’s a tad snug, but it’s okay,” Azrael remarks.

He looks at Gibbons who is in and out of a daze, not knowing what to believe.

“Gibbons, I do appreciate your help, and I’m sorry for making fun of your van,” he apologizes, trying to fill in the silence.

Gibbons shakes his head in disbelief as he closes the back of the van, climbs behind the wheel, and drives off, with his newfound passenger.

Hours later, at the antique shop, Azrael is covered with a blanket and sitting next to a fireplace, like a recovered amnesiac patient. His thoughts are lost, from everything that he’d experienced. Gibbons comes into view.

“Why are you here? I mean like back from the dead? And is Diana…?” Gibbons carefully asks.

Breaking Azrael’s thoughts, Rip van winkle recounts,

“Yes, my brother, Diana, is in Paradise. I have been brought back to fight the good fight. We are going to war against every Satan, Devil, religious political lies of the nations, against every wicked spirit in high places. I am the word of Yeshua, I am the sword of Yahuah and through his Shekinah he has empowered me to fight this good fight,” Azrael declares, slowly and deliberately.

To Gibbons, his brother-in-law was Khan all right... Yet he was different, like a spiritual being at variance with this world; like a phoenix refined from the ashes of its grave. Gibbons walks out of the living room, then stops and leans over the doorway to get Azrael’s attention.

“Azrael, this is where you are to follow me,” Gibbons laughs.

They come to the south wing of the building, and the professor pushes some buttons on a keypad which allows them to gain access to Gibbons’ laboratory.

“Since your mission is to fight against supernatural creatures, I’m going to hook you up with the finest armor that is ever made,” Gibbons boasts proudly.

We see a large room: an area with papers, monitors, laptops, cluttered tables, and charts hanging on the wall.

“Welcome to my laboratory,” Gibbons regales in mock arrogance.

In the center of the room, there’s a seven-foot Android with military body armor, an old Western outfit to give it a flare to the imagination.

“Wow, an action figure my size, Gibbons, you shouldn’t have,” Azrael retorted.

“Strip it down, you’re going to need it,” Gibbons says.

Azrael looks at the object.

“Are you serious? You want me to dress something like Westworld,” Azrael jests.

Gibbons stops at the door.

“It’s that or you run around naked; it’s the only thing I have in here that will fit your oversized Goliath butt,” Gibbons remarks.

“You’re funny Gibbons,” Azrael laughs.

Gibbons walks into the next room as Azrael strips the android down, and dresses.

Azrael follows Gibbons to the next room.

“Oh, wow what a setup,” Azrael says in awe.

Gibbons is sitting in front of his wall monitor looking for signs of supernatural activities.

“How’s the fit?” Gibbons asked.

“Well, surprisingly it fits like a glove, and I feel like Van Helsing on steroids. How cool is that?” Azrael retorts.

He looks about and sees Gibbons’ setup.

“Okay, Gibbons, out with it. How in creation are you able to afford such a fortress?” Azrael asks.

Gibbons chuckles,

“Do you remember what you and Diana did?” he asks.

“Me, what did I do?” Azrael replies.

“Well, for starters you and Diana made me the beneficiary of your life insurance should anything happen to both of you.”

Azrael gazes around,

“Oh, I remember now. Well, I am glad and your sister would be very proud of you today,” Azrael responds. “But it doesn’t make any sense. Why would you choose this kind of profession, it is akin to a hunter, only that you’re hunting monsters and demons, all kinds of strange things that go bumpy in the night. You’re kind of an egghead from what I remember; you like numbers, books, and all that scientific stuff; things that I could never wrap my mind around, so why?” Azrael questions.

“Because what goes on in this realm is a reaction to what’s going on in the supernatural realm. I just wanted to get to the truth of things.” Gibbons answers.

“Okay, fair enough, so what’s on the agenda?” Azrael asks.

Gibbons moves to an iron cage and opens it. He pulls out a costumed-made gun.

“Here is a weapon for you; this bad boy steals Supernatural energy, and recharges itself as the host is destroyed;” he proudly says, with a flamboyant air.

“Okay, sounds interesting; why don’t you use it? I don’t need this, do I?” he asks.

“I am not a hunter. I am the Archaeologist, you’re the hunter,” Gibbons continues.

“Oh, okay whatever you say, “Azrael complies.

Gibbons tosses the gun to Azrael, along with its holster, and the latter catches it and straps it on.

“Oh by the way the gun is called Brimstone.” Gibbons continues.

Suddenly, a red blip appears on the monitor.

“What’s the blip for?” Azrael asks.

“Supernatural movement,” Gibbons responds, matter-of-factly.

“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Azrael asks.

“Okay we have news of Witches doing a summoning East West of Areth; Yah brought you back not to sit around, but to fight against the darkness and that is what we are going to do,” Gibbons says, tossing him a set of bracers with blades.

He glances at Azrael with a smile, as he straps them on.

“I’ve also been working on a project called S.P.I.R.I.T,” Gibbons continues.

“Spirit?” Questions Azrael.

“Yes, you’re going to love this. Follow me,” Gibbons coaxes Azrael to follow.

Gibbons takes Azrael to the garage where he sees a hubless motorcycle with blue lights.

Azrael whistles in awe.

“Wow that is a big motorcycle! This is what you’ve been working on?” he almost gushes.

“It’s not just a bike. It’s the SE1-PHANTOM-7A Military Motorcycle with solar fuel panels. This machine can hit zero to sixty in 1.7 seconds.

Top speed 300 MPH. Also, it has artificial intelligence, and I am still working on the voice module. But this machine can help you in your quest and besides, it suits you;” Gibbons expresses, generously.

Gibbons pulls out his journal, and glances at Azrael, as he scribbles notes.

“See what I tell you, numbers and books,” Azrael states the obvious.

“It’s fantastic to be back, but it’s time for us to go to work. I got a lead on Demetrius Blackwell. Meanwhile, while you take care of those witches in the Mystic Forest,” Gibbons instructs.

Azrael climbs onto Spirit, feeling the comfort and power that radiates from the massive machine. The console panel with switches and buttons is lit.

“Awesome! I think I am going to like this,” he cooed gleefully.

“You truly outdid yourself this time Gibbons,” he complimented.

“I am out of here, its hunting season,” Azrael says with awe, as he rides off into the stormy night.

WITCHES

A dampness fills the night air from the ending of a storm. Azrael rides into the Mystic Forest, he climbs off, and surveys the terrain; its floor lies with trees of yesteryears, fallen from storms long forgotten. The seasons have been harsh, stripping away the bark and outer layers, yet rendering them all the more beautiful, in their appearance as driftwood twists in patterns. Even the color of the moss is kelp-like.

In the open grotto of the forest is the mighty oak tree, the king of the forest known throughout the mystic world of religion for its potent charms. A summoning circle lies before the oak tree. Six Witches in hooded robes, chant in their ancient language. A young man in his early thirties is bound by hand and foot inside the circle.

“Let me go you crazy wenches; who the hell are you people?” he yells in frustration, as he tries to break the leather bounds.

Katrina, the High Priestess of the Owl coven, is a seductively attractive woman who steps forward casting a spell over the young man;

“Shekah,” she says.

The young man goes silent as she continues her summoning. The Witches chant in harmony like the old Irish Druids in the ancient days of myth and legends. Peeking from behind the forest scene is Azrael. He hugs the oke tree, observing the ritual. The circle ignites with fire, and the young man screams, as his body convulses. Azrael pulls out Brimstone, speaking over it.

“Yahuah Eloheynu, you who call darkness into light, destroy this abomination that is before my sight.” He prays as he cocks his weapon.

A blue aura brightens from within the Brimstone, bringing it to life. The Witches stop chanting as they feel Azrael’s aura. Katrina looks about trying to pick up on their unwanted guest’s whereabouts.

“I sense a holy presence, we must complete this ritual;” she declares, darting her eyes at four young Witches,

“Quickly hunt this Warrior down;” she commands.

The four Witches vanish from the area and reappear before Azrael. He turns and meets with them, who is pleasing to his sight.

“I pity you,” Azrael says.

The Witches look at each other; like he’s out of his mind. Composing themselves, they cackle, then ask.

“Why do you pity us?” asks the first witch.

“Such beauty wasted away for selfish ambition to serve the dark Ba’als. Therefore I pity you because you’re going to wither and die; being deprived of not knowing someone like me,” he says.

The Witches laugh hysterically.

“Look, ladies, I don’t want to hurt you, so please do yourself a favor. Walk away, and repent from your sins of divination,” Azrael warns them.

The four Witches look at each other; they cock their heads with an attitude, darting their eyes back at him, and igniting their hands with green flames.

“I take it that is a ‘no’,” he says,

“What do darkness and light have in common?” asked the fourth Witch.

“Nothing,” Azrael says.

“Precisely, and you ain’t my type,” she says, casting her death spell over Azrael.

He shoots the fourth Witch between the eyes; she disintegrates to dust as Brimstone absorbs the demon attached to her soul charging itself.

“Correction, she ain’t going to be growing old,” he sarcastically says.

Before he could pull the trigger a second time, the three Witches combine their conjuration magic, binding him in a ring of mystic power. He drops his gun, feeling the squeeze.

“Pity you say, we don’t need your pity, but it sucks to be you because you’ll never have us; you arrogant bastard, this is for killing our sister,” boasts the first Witch.

The Witches increase their power, laughing.

“I am enjoying the moment,” says the second Witch.

“Correction, we’re all enjoying the moment. It’s not often we get a Holy Knight to torment,” says the third Witch.

Azrael struggles from the strains of their combined forces.

“Oh boy, this isn’t good,” he says to himself struggling to break free.

The Witches slowly close in on him, “Really Ladies’ foreplay on the first date? I’m not interested in narcissistic sociopathic creatures like you,” he says as struggling to get to his feet.

The Witches continue to laugh.

“I just love it when men fall for us!” boastfully said the Third Witch.

The First Witch realizes that their captive already knows what’s going on.

“Oh, he’s already familiar with this ritual, aren’t you handsome?” sneers the First Witch, flirting with him.

“So he knows how it’s going to end; this takes the fun out of things,” complained the second Witch.

The women laugh as they continue closing in on Azrael, crushing him with the power of their rings.

“Now beg for your life, we might let you live,” taunted the First Witch.

Azrael continues to struggle to break free, he laughs,

“I thank you ladies for this great opportunity.”

The Witches stand still, looking at each other wondering what their captive was talking about as they dart their eyes back at him.

“What opportunity? Us killing you on our first date?” retorts the Third Witch.

The three Witches squeeze tighter with their magic grip, stepping into arms-length of their adversary.

“There is one slight problem,” he continues.

“And what would that be?” sarcastically retorts the first Witch.

“The problem, ladies, is that you don’t hold the keys of life and death,” he calmly discloses.

The Witches laugh, mocking him,

“Oh those keys,” said the Second Witch.

“I think we forgot them at the house”, she scoffs.

“He’s so amusing, isn’t he?” teases the first Witch.

“It’s too bad we have to extinguish him,” says the third Witch, in mock lament.

“Don’t get so sentimental. He just killed our sister; he’s our sworn enemy,” angrily replies the first Witch as she puts the squeeze on Azrael.

He collapses from the weight of the pressure, and with one last breath, he shouts out.

“Yeshua Ligor Ikem!”

A shock wave emanates from Azrael’s body, shattering the magical binds; the three Witches incinerate with holy fire, breaking their spell.

He climbs to his feet, standing over the pile of ashes, and tips his hat.

“Happy Halloween, Ladies,” he sarcastically retorts, picking up Brimstone that absorbs the three demons attached to the Witches’ souls.

Katrina and her right-hand Priestess stand at one end of the summoning Circle; the young man is chanting in an ancient language. His chest heaves, his back arches, and his eyes turn white as a blast of pale green light bursts from his eyes and mouth.

A low growling noise resonates from deep within his throat as if one is awakening from a deep slumber. Then, the young man’s face changes into three different faces: the first facial feature is restricted, with a slit of a mouth and nose, large black almond-shaped eyes, and gray hairless skin.

The second facial feature is the shape of a goat with large horns. The third facial feature is the young man himself, who snaps his binds and climbs to his feet, staring at Katrina and her Priestess, who gasps with fear. The young man stands in the center of the circle with glowing eyes. The Priestess steps close to the circle with curiosity,

“Who are you?” she asks.

“I and my kin are known as the Zeta Reticulans,

The Anunnaki, the Watchers, and my name is Azazel,” he proudly confesses.

The Priestess understands exactly what their unwanted guest had said, and she slowly steps back side by side with Katrina.

“This was not part of the ritual,” she explains, with a tinge of nervousness in her voice.

“I know,” Katrina replies.

“Need blood to break this circle”, Azazel demands.

Katrina and the Priestess look at each other with fear.

“What do we do now?” asks the Priestess.

“I don’t know!” Katrina says watching Azazel.

He grabs the Priestess with his telekinesis grip, yanking her into the circle.

“Katrina; help!” she cries out.

Katrina freezes with trepidation, and cannot move, immobilized, all she can do is watch her closest friend’s neck being snapped, at the hands of Azazel.

“You will do it!” he bellows, biting into her neck, and drinking her blood.

The circle dissipates. He tosses her corpse and takes a deep breath, before releasing a deep satiated sigh.

“It’s been so long!” he exclaims, striding out of the circle, as he looms over Katrina with a malicious grin of the most sinister kind.

Katrina, frightened, kneels before Azazel, in submission.

“I am Katrina, your faithful servant, my lord,” she cowers in subservience.

Azazel looks down on Katrina. He is pleased with her beauty and he desires her.

“Do as I say and I will reward you richly, but if you betray me, well….. I think you get a general idea,” he warns.

Like a gentleman, Azazel helps Katrina to her feet. They look at each other for a moment; he leans in to kiss her. A crack of thunder, from a bullet, hits Azazel between his eyes, not sparing him.

Azrael who is standing behind the smoking barrel of Brimstone is surprised by the complexity that this creature does not disintegrate, or drop dead.

“Oh boy, this is not good!” Azrael utters under his breath.

Azazel touches the hole in his forehead and sees blood trickling down from his wound. He heals it up with a thought, from where he is positioned in obscurity.

“My Lord!” Katrina says, startled

She looks around frantically to find where the shooter is located.

She spots Azrael holstering Brimstone,

“There he is!” she points.

Azazel snarls at Azrael,

“Such arrogance,” Azazel says.

He slowly approaches Azrael, who unsheathes his sword.

“Let’s see how you hold up after I remove your head from your shoulders,” he threatens, charging at Azazel

Azazel sees the giant warrior, who leaps into the air, swinging his sword to take his head off; he ducks and strikes him with a palm hand strike, and Azrael is thrown back and he slams against the old oak tree. Azazel uses his telekinesis to lift Azrael in midair.

“What do we have here?” questions Azazel,

He throws Azrael across the field, slamming him up against a few more trees. He then slowly approaches him with Katrina by his side.

“My Lord, this is the slayer who killed the young women who were to be yours upon your resurrection,” accuses Katrina.

“Wow, I pity them for wanting to be with someone like you; this must be an act of desperation,” Azrael says sarcastically.

“Mock all you like, warrior; vengeance is best served when it’s cold,” Katrina challenges tauntingly.

Azazel gives a slight glance at Katrina and then back at Azrael.

“It’s time to die, sweet prince.”

Azazel clenches his fist to kill Azrael with his telekinetic grip. To his shocking surprise, there was no effect,

“So I see you protected by Aravat,” he states the obvious.

Azazel pierces Azrael’s neck with his fingernail, tasting his blood, and realizes who he is,

“You’re a descendant of Enoch the Scribe of Aravat,” he continues.

“Wow, I did not know that. Looks like we are in a stalemate, mate!” Azrael says with a look of surprise.

Azazel growls under his breath. Katrina has a look of dread. Azrael sees and senses Katrina’s fear.

“Your way over your head sister. If I were you, I would repent before it’s too late,” he warns Katrina.

Azazel looks at Katrina, then back at Azrael, and bellows out,

“She’s mine,” he says.

He drew Azrael in close, nose to nose.

“Don’t get so close, pretty boy, you’re not my type,” Azrael sarcastically replies.

“Make all the jokes you want, son of Enoch. Mark my words, I will find a way to bring you down,” Azazel boasts.

“Who are you?” Azrael asks with curiosity.

“I am Azazel who taught your species to turn to us Malakhim as gods, to forsake Aravat’s Torah. I taught them to worship idols made by their hands, and I showed your kind how to create weapons, and the use of magic that was only meant for us Malakhim.

I am the father of Lucifer King of Tyre, who consumed his mother as a young lad who was bent on conquering your kind and being worshiped as a god among the nations. My punishment was great for I confused your kind not to trust Aravat, it was I who taught the art of selfishness and wickedness, and humanity has cultivated it so beautifully,” he says with pride.

“That is why Yahuah punished you, and your fate is worse than Heyl’el’s judgment,” Azrael realizes.

“Knowing that name, I will not tolerate your insolence,” Azazel hisses.

He flings Azrael across the forest. He gets slammed into another tree and slumps to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Azazel approaches him, his eyes flaming with fury,

“I may not be able to kill you directly but I will have fun with you,” threatens Azazel.

Azrael climbs back to his feet with a smile.

“I think she will have something to say about that,” Azrael points his finger over his shoulder.

Azazel turns and meets Uriel’s backhand, causing him to fly across the forest.

“Who has given you authority to leave your prison, Azazel?” asks Uriel in an authoritative tone.

At this juncture, Katrina takes flight, wide-eyed with fear. Azazel climbs back to his feet and sees her running.

“Sorry darling, but you’re mine,” he says as he intercepts her.

He opens his hand and blasts her with an energy beam, burning her to ash.

Uriel unfurls her wings and leaps into the air, but as she comes down, she slams Azazel to the ground, pinning her foot on his chest.

“Azazel, you’re going back into your prison,” Uriel says with authority, indignant about the mischief wrought within this short span.

“Like hell I am!” he screams in defiance.

Uriel draws her lance from thought to hand. She whirls the weapon around like a master and leaps into the air releasing chains that spew from her weapon, binding Azazel’s hand and foot.

“All transgressions have been committed by you Azazel; you are bound till HaMashiach claims his throne in Tzion,” Uriel declares.

Uriel’s eyes glow with power from Shamayim; she strikes the ground, Adamah opens its mouth beneath Azazel’s feet, and he falls into the abyss, landing on jagged rocks. “Damn you, Uriel. I curse you, you hear me!” screams Azazel as Adamah slowly closes its mouth over him.

Silence fills the air. Uriel hears footsteps, and she turns to meet

“Fear not, Prince of Adamah,” she says reassuringly.

“Uriel, if this is a foreshadow of things that I am going to be facing, I need to have the knowledge and wisdom to overcome these creatures,” Azrael says.

Uriel smiles.

“You’re spot-on, so now I will give you the gift of knowledge and understanding that Yahuah has commanded me to bestow unto you,” Uriel says as she touches his forehead.

Azrael’s eyes turn white, his body radiating with the power of the Throne of Aravoth. Uriel downloads information into Azrael’s brain like computer data.

“Now you know all the mysteries of the supernatural creatures, from Malakhim, Nephilim, Demons, and monsters,” Uriel informs.

Uriel opens her hand, revealing five crystal tubes filled with the blood of Yeshua.

“Here is a gift from Yeshua to you. These tubes are His precious and all-powerful blood. Use it prudently in your war against darkness.” She instructed.

Azrael takes the tubes and puts them in his belt pouch. Uriel vanishes from Azrael’s sight.

“Gibbons will never believe this,” Azrael says to himself as he strides off into the night.

DECORUM

Sound of classical music echoes from the walls of the largest extravagant building in Areth, the City Museum. A large crowd of blue blood dressed in formal wear arrives, filling the museum to view the greatest find of their time. Gibbons pulls up with the Dagonslayer; he exits his van and meets with the valet attendant who laughs as he takes his keys to park his vehicle.

“What’s so funny about that?” Gibbons inquires curiously.

“Oh nothing sir, I mean no disrespect. It’s just strange seeing an old vehicle among the luxury vehicles,” the valet attendant replies.

“Laugh all you like, Mr. but nothing beats a good old-fashioned wheel,” he proudly says, making his way inside the museum.

The High Society of Areth, along with other delegates of the Nations mingle with one another. Classical Music is heard in the background. Men and Women sipping on champagne, rubbing shoulders with one another. A 3D Model of a Chalkydri, a Bi-Peddler reptilian creature suspended in animation.

Stepping in front of the display is Demetrius Blackwell who is dressed in formal wear, staring intently at the model. Gwen, his associate, steps up next to him. She’s wearing a scarlet dress, with nothing left for the imagination. She hands him a glass of champagne.

She asks,
“Are you admiring your greatest find?”

They take a sip of their champagne.

“Quite so my dear,” he replies.

He takes her hand and kisses it. Demetrius notices Diana’s diamond ring on her finger. The memories never left him.

“Nice rock, Gwen,” he says in mock admiration, in hope of eliciting a response.

“I know right? It is always interesting to see what you find lying around; it looks pretty to me. I couldn’t resist,” she boasts.

Isn’t that going to cost you a fortune?” he smiles.

“I took it from the corpse to celebrate our collaboration. If it weren’t for her we wouldn’t be standing here now.

Demetrius saluted her with his drink.

“Well played, Gwen,” he complimented her.

He turns his head, gulping down his champagne, and sees Gibbons walking in before glancing at Gwen, a tad tense.

“Please excuse me, my dear. It looks like I need to entertain,” he sighs sarcastically.

Gwen turns her head and sees Gibbons approaching.

“Why does it have to be him?” she sarcastically exclaimed.

“Now my dear, we need to exercise some decorum. After all, Professor Gibbons is the third Chairman of the City Council, and we have to entertain him, so he will not foul up our operations,” Demetrius says.

Demetrius leaves Gwen’s side; he blends into the crowd making his way to Gibbons. Gibbons blends smoothly through the social gathering, eyeing the glittering women, and cigar-smoking men, who casually snag a glass of champagne from the passing waiters who are dressed in black and white tuxedo uniforms. Demetrius greets Gibbons with a firm handshake. Gibbons adjusts his glasses.

“It’s an honor to be here today to witness the greatest accomplishment of the science community,” Gibbons smiles smugly.

“Professor, I honestly did not expect to see you tonight,” Demetrius laughs.

Gibbons smiles back.

“Truth be told, I did not want to come here tonight. Then I had this epiphany; I said to myself, hey I am an Archaeologist. Let’s see what all the fuss is about. So when I came here I saw your bi-peddler specimen in 3D, impressive.

But if it was not for my sister who died over this finding, of yours, you would not be standing here today, Mr. Blackwell,” Gibbons speaks with deliberation.

Demetrius feels a hint of grief from Gibbons’ words and does not wish to anger him.

“So what would you like me to do, Professor?” Demetrius asks, feeling uncomfortable.

Gibbons looks Demetrius in the eye,

“Give Diana the proper recognition; your career depends on it,” Gibbons requests with a threat.

Gwen steps in and Gibbons spots Dianna’s ring on her finger, as it is so conspicuously worn.

“Excuse me, gentlemen; they are asking for you, Mr. Blackwell to the podium,” Gwen interrupts.

Gibbons grabs Gwen’s wrist, and scrutinizes the ring, as he gives its thief a meaningful glare.

“Madam, I would like that ring back please; it does not belong to you,” he demands kindly.

Gwen struggles to recoil her arm away,

“Who do you think you are? You can be guilty of sexual harassment,” she angrily incriminates, threateningly.

Gibbons takes a swig of his champagne and darts his eyes at Demetrius and Gwen,

“You know me; you know my position and what I can do to your reputation,” Gibbons states.

Demetrius glances at Gwen and then back at Gibbons,

“There are more important things here than to deal with a pompous professor. So for the sake of an event of this status, we need to act with decorum; I will acknowledge Diana’s name,” he speaks with diplomacy.

Demetrius glances at Gwen.

“Give the ring back to this gentleman; after all, it is his sister’s ring,” Demetrius orders.

Gwen slips the sapphire halo off her index finger, gives it to Gibbons, and walks off, flustered with embarrassment and partly contorted with resentment. Demetrius climbs the stairs to the podium. Gibbons pockets the ring, with his eyes fixated on Demetrius,

“It’s not over yet, Mr. Blackwell; it’s only a matter of time before you slip up. And then I will know what to do,” he mutters to himself, half bitter, half-tenacious.

A flock of reporters, photographers, and the media news surround the podium, drinking in the polished words of the unscrupulous phony. Demetrius stands at the podium as if he was a god proud unto himself.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and delegates of the nations. It is an honor and a privilege to be here today to represent a new scientific find, proving to you that there were other life forms on the ground we walk.

If it wasn’t for our departed colleague, Diana Phoenix who discovered this rare specimen over a year ago, we would not be standing here today. So we are opening a new wing to the museum, the Phoenix Foundation, in honor of Diana Phoenix and her new finding, “The Draco.” Demetrius’ speech is dripping with fake humility.

The spectators gawk, clap, and applaud. Demetrius stands with a haughty look when suddenly, sharp pains cause him to fall off the podium. Fainting, the press conference circles around him quickly. Gibbons sees the crowd gathering.

“What now?” he complains.

Gibbons elbows his way through the crowd, bends his knee as he checks Demetrius’ pulse,

“He’s alive,” Gibbons says, pulling out a pocket flashlight from inside his coat pocket.

Gibbons checks Demetrius’ pupil’s dilation with the light.

“The man has been drugged. We need to get him to the hospital now.” Gibbons barks his orders.

The medics come pushing through, placing Demetrius on the collapsible wheel stretcher and rolling him out of the building into an ambulance. Sharp-witted, Gibbons spots Gwen hastily leaving the scene.

“Where are you going, you little minx?” he questions aloud.

He pushes himself through the sea of people. He follows Gwen to the parking lot. Gwen jumps into her Bentley and drives off. Gibbons climbs into his vehicle and follows in pursuit. Twenty minutes later on an empty highway, rain pours as lightning flickers over the murky sky. With windshield wipers at full power, Gwen is having a difficult time seeing the road. Her hologram phone beeps; she pushes a button on her steering wheel. A voice is heard over her speakers. Its the head Illuminati, “ROTHWELL”

“Report,” booms Rothwell’s voice over the speaker.

“Mr. Rothwell it is done as you requested,” she answers.

“Excellent work, Gwen, but unfortunately for you, you’re being followed,” says Rothwel over the speakers.

Gwen sees Gibbons’ van in her side-view mirror.

“Wait, I can shake this guy,” she says with confidence.

“I like you, Gwen, so I’d give you thirty minutes to get to the airport,” says Rothwell over the speakers. Then, the line goes dead.

Gwen pushes the pedal to the mettle. Gibbons keeps track as they accelerate in a chase,

“Wonder where you’re off to, perhaps to meet with a leader of your organization?” Gibbons questions aloud.

Gwen turns the bend at high speed. Suddenly a tall lanky white armored Mal’akh stands in the middle of the road with a battle-axe. The armored wing creature strikes Gwen’s car with one swipe, smashing the hood, and flipping the automobile in the air. As it flies over the Mal’akh’s shoulder, the automobile gets wrapped around a utility pole. Gwen‘s mangled body is seen, sprawled amidst the rubble. A wisp of an intangible female silhouette is seen.

“What’s going on? What has happened to me?” she questions with fear; her voice now reduced to a whimper.

The Mal’akh opens its raven black wings; his weapon burning brightly in the night.

“Gwen Priscilla, your soul is mine, for all your unrepentant sins!” the Mal’akh says in a raspy tone.

She runs to escape from the fearful creature but finds the Mal’akh always appearing before her in every direction she would turn.

“Who are you?” she frightfully asks.

The Mal’akh stares her down; his eyes glowing green, as he steps closer to her,

“I am Exterminatus the Mal’akh of death, the reaper of lost souls who do their evil in life; now your life is forfeit!”

Death grabs Gwen with its weapon and they disappear. Gibbons pulls up and exits his vehicle, seeing Gwen dead and gone; he opens the side of his van and pulls out his EMF reader, and picks up a slight reading, then it goes blank.

“She’s gone,” he remarks.

He sees a file lying near the wreck with evidence of Demetrius’ criminal records. Gibbons pick it up and smiles,

“The break that I have been looking for, no doubt a set up in case he lives.”

Gibbons pushes the face of his watch activating a HUD and makes a call to the police and reports the wreck, then climbs back into his vehicle and drives off into the night.

CONSPIRACIES

Azrael stands before Diana’s tombstone; he lay a dozen black roses in front of it, pulls his hat off, and kneels like a martial artist in meditation.

“I got your favorite flowers, my love. Today would have marked our fifteenth anniversary. I know you’re in a better place, but I still pray for justice for your untimely demise.”

In the aftermath of the deep loss of his best friend, lover, and companion, Azrael stands and composes himself.

“Diana, I miss you so much.”

Azrael turns around and sees Gibbons approaching.

“Gibbons, glad you made it,” Azrael says.

“I wouldn’t miss it. You and Diana are the most meaningful people in my life,” Gibbons responds as he lays his flowers down over her grave.

He stands and gives Azrael an envelope with a file.

“This is for you

Azrael opens and finds Diana’s wedding ring, evidential photos, and Museum video evidence of Demetrius’s involvement in Diana’s murder.

“Where did you get this?” Azrael asks.

“Off of Demetrius’ dead girlfriend Gwen, who got herself wrapped around a utility pole during a car chase a few nights back? I had to pull some strings to get this evidence. You will find Demetrius in the Areth Hospital. For he was drugged by Gwen on the night she died,” Gibbons explains.

Azrael says, “Tonight I will take him to Areth Towers to make him confess to his crimes.”

“Also be alert, these people have some kind of special soldiers to protect them. Moreover, we need evidence of the Super Soldier Program conspiracy,” Gibbons says.

“Understood, after tonight we will have justice for Diana’s death. Azrael declared as the two men walked off the scene.

It’s a hot muggy night; the full moon looms over the City of Areth. The Areth Hospital is seen with a few pedestrians entering and leaving the hospital. Across the street from the hospital, is the crown jewel of the city, the Areth Tower.

A steel door is kicked open, Azrael looks out over the rooftop and notices it’s clear, he drags Demetrius out, who is bound with ropes, and places him up against the wall, giving him a needle in his arm that slowly wakes him from his unconscious state.

His bracer lights up, a 3D HUD revealing two blips quickly moving into the area. He glances at the groggy Demetrius.

“You’re a sneaky one, Mr. Blackwell,” he says.

Azrael turns his attention to the two agents who have been following him.

“I was wondering what happened to you two, in our last scuffle,” he says.

They stand at the upper ledge of the rooftop. Azrael shuts off his 3D HUD. All three draw their weapons and leap into action, the trio battle fiercely among each other in mortal combat.

Azrael grabs one of the agents and drives his steel knee into the face; the agent goes down. Azrael spins around, grabbing the second one, lifting him over his head, and slamming him down onto his back.

“Now stay down!” he yells.

The agents jump back, as if immune to their injuries. They adjust their bodies with snaps and crackles. Azrael is surprised at what he is seeing,

“Now that ain’t normal,” he says aloud.

He clenches his fists, and a set of claws pop out protruding from his arm guards.

“Okay, now we just have to get dirty,” he says, eyeing his adversaries.

The agents look at each other, then back at Azrael as they leap at him. Azrael plunges his claws into the agents, throwing them aside. They bounce back and keep coming at him relentlessly. Azrael gets the upper hand and lets loose, using his Krav Maga technique; taking down the agents one by one, by snapping their necks and throwing them over the side of the building; he watches them splat at the bottom.

”Let’s see if you wake up from that!” he says, fixing his gaze on his prey, as he retracts his claws.

Demetrius is waking from his slumber. He’s a bit groggy from the meds from the hospital. His eyes clear, and he sees the seven-foot giant standing over him.

“Where the hell am I?” he asks.

“On top of the world or at least that’s what you want people to believe,” Azrael replies with sarcasm.

Demetrius looks intently at his captor with confusion.

“Who the hell are you, and what am I doing up here? Why am I bound to these ropes?” Demetrius demands to know.

“I brought you out of the hospital and took you here so we can have a little chit-chat,” Azrael answers, casually.

Demetrius looks discontent. Azrael sees the man for who he is.

“Please, do forgive me, Mr. Blackwell, where are my manners?” he relents.

Loosening the ropes, he stands before Blackwell, towing over him.

“Who I am is irrelevant at this time. What you should be asking yourself is why did Gwen, my girlfriend drug my drink and put me into the hospital, or in this rather lengthy coma?” Azrael says with sarcasm.

“No, she wouldn’t dare do that,” Demetrius protests in self-denial.

“You must have pissed her off,” Azrael teases.

“Do you know who I am?” Demetrius asserts his authority.

Azrael smiles, adjusting his hat while looking down at him,

“I know who you are, and I don’t give a damn. All I want is your cooperation in the wake of your confession,” Azrael states, firmly.

Demetrius shakes his head and dismisses his remark.

“Let me go and I will turn the other cheek and you’ll never see me again,” Demetrius mustered all his powers of persuasion.

Azrael laughs.

“Are you out of your mind? We’re just getting started, Mr. Blackwell,” he says.

Demetrius flares up with an attitude.

“Oh, here we go,” he says.

Azrael reaches into his belt pouch and pulls out Diana’s ring, and shows it to Demetrius.

“You wouldn’t happen to be able to explain this?” he asks.

Demetrius glances at it uncaringly,

“This ring was in the possession of your ex?” Azrael continues.

Demetrius shakes his head with a bit of an attitude, keeping up with the facade competently.

“Why do you bother me with such a meaningless object? What does that have to do with me? Anybody can buy a ring,” Demetrius expresses with apathy.

“This is so true, but not to this ring, because it belongs to a missing woman,” Azrael goes directly.

Demetrius takes a closer look at the ring for a moment.

“Okay, you pricked my interest. So what are you insinuating?” he questions.

“Well, since you’re cooperating, your little Gwen did have this ring in her possession on the night she drugged you,” he explains.

Demetrius turns his head with disgust,

“Gwen was into all kinds of things. She would’ve gotten the ring from anywhere,” Demetrius expresses with a bit of bitterness in his tone.

Azrael scratches his head releasing a sigh.

“It’s pretty solid evidence linking you to the disappearance of Diana Phoenix, the archaeologist on your payroll,” Azrael says, holding back his rage.

Demetrius looks at him with a blank stare.

“Don’t tell me, Gwen confessed, and that’s why you’re here, interrogating me,” he says with a sardonic smile.

“No, there was no confession, but the irony is that Gwen got wrapped around a utility pole from a high-speed chase after she drugged you, and headed to the airport to meet with some other person; perhaps your leader who wanted you dead,” Azrael says.

Demetrius looks surprised, as a dose of reality skims over his eyes.

“Gwen is dead?”

He expresses his feelings for his loss.

“Oh don’t be so choked up over it; it’s the only business you know! Girls like her are a dime of a dozen for a strapping fellow like you, “Azrael mocks.

Demetrius growls under his breath.

“Who do you think you are, looking down on me?” Demetrius snaps at him.

“A hot-tempered man stirs up strife, but he who is slow to anger quiets contention,” his captor says.

Demetrius scoffs at him.

“So what is all this really about?” Demetrius barks.

“The investigation of your last several years has linked you to many crimes. I see that you have been a very busy man,” Azrael replies.

Demetrius darts his eyes at Azrael like a venomous snake.

“Such as?” he hisses.

“Well, for starters, you need to be more careful who you invite to your parties. Selfie tend to reveal a lot. Especially backgrounds with stolen artifacts,” Azrael says as he pockets Diana’s ring.

Demetrius puts his head down with some guilt and laughs.

“Mr. Blackwell you’ve been linked with murder, racketeering, smuggling, human trafficking, and the list goes on,” Azrael accuses.

“Nobody will convict me of anything; not even the spy organizations of the nations. They can’t link me. So how did you do?” Demetrius asks with curiosity and resentment.

“I do understand that your organization takes care of your problems. I get that. Well, lucky for you, your computers are linked to everything over the nation. So you know everything that you need to know when you want to know, but unlucky for you, all computers are also linked to everything you do as well. Get the picture?” Azrael smiles.

“Now for my next question,” Azrael turns belligerent.

Azrael angrily grabs Demetrius, lifting him off of his feet, and jacking him up against the wall. Demetrius is looking helplessly but hopefully for his two super soldiers to help him.

“Don’t bother; they’re dead, I dumped them over the building,” Azrael growls.

A shock of realization hits Demetrius.

“How did you do that? Normal people aren’t supposed, I mean able, to dispose of them at all,” he expresses with fear.

”Do I look normal to you?” Azrael asks.

“No, you do not. I have never seen the likes of you,”

Demetrius calmly says not to anger the man who has him dangling in his grip.

“Perhaps we can collaborate,” he suggests, desperately, yet strategically.

“You pricked my curiosity, Mr. Blackwell. Who or what the hell are those agents?” Azrael asks, sensing the opportunity of the moment.

Dropping Demetrius, who climbs back to his feet with a sigh of relief, and then darts his eyes back at Azrael.

“They are what we call GMOs, genetically manipulated organisms,” he reluctantly discloses.

“How in creation did you create such abominations?” Azrael asks.

Demetrius gulps with fear, lowers his head, and then fixes his eyes back on Azrael. Left with no choice, but to divulge, he reveals the stunning facts.

“It’s a duplication of a biological material mixed with DNA cells of ancient giants, along with bodies that are a breath away from death,” he explains.

“What is the biological material?” Azrael asks.

“Our organization opened up a hole accidentally in our laboratory in Dudael, using the Synchrotron when we were able to retrieve some Dark Matter from another dimension. This dark matter is what fuels our soldiers, which we call the “SS″,” Demetrius continues.

Azrael walks away, turning on his HUD from his bracer. An image of Gibbons appears. The Dagonslayer sits near the Areth Tower, inside an alley. An electronic scanner is recording audio logs from Azrael’s arm guard, Gibbons sits at his console, snacking on his bean burrito, recording Azrael who is on his monitors.

“Gibbons, have you gotten everything that has been said?” Azrael asks.

“Loud and clear!” Gibbons replies.

’Do you have any other information on these “SS soldiers?” he asks.

“Working on it. Hold on, wait. It’s coming up, okay I got it!” Gibbons continues with a light touch of humor.

“Yes, SS does refer to super-soldiers as he says, and dark matter is their fueling force. The science in this area is still a little obscure. But judging by the lack of pain and emotions of these agents, I would call them the satanic soldiers; after all the dark matter they use is from hell,” Gibbons explains as he sits back and takes another bite of his burrito.

“Gibbons, out.”

Azrael shuts off his HUD and turns back to Demetrius, who shrugs his shoulders smugly.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he says, mocking Azrael.

“What truly amazes me is how smart people are seriously and sadly stupid. You take life for granted; you murder, you steal, you lie, for what?

All in the name of your business, so you can be a god, but the competition is too high, so you spend billions to create malevolent creatures, scientific tools, and genetic engineering to wow the simple folk for your amusement. Knowing and willing to trap them in a world of fantasy; just to take out the little guy so you wouldn’t have to share your wealth. But in the end, you will be judged and there is no escaping from that Mr. Blackwell.” Azrael expresses angrily.

“We know and quite frankly we don’t give a damn, we are the gods of the nations, we make the rules, not Hashem, or his Son, not you or anybody who thinks they can take us on, we welcome the challenge knowing that we always will win,” Demetrius boastfully confess.

Azrael laughs out of frustration,

“Perhaps we are stupid in your point of view, but the truth is your stupid in ours,” Azrael says grinding his teeth and holding his tempter back.

Demetrius laughs in spite, “It’s more on the perspective of achieving one’s goal,” Demetrius smugly replies.

“And why is that?” Azrael asks.

“Because we simply can do it, but to those people who can’t do it, they are the ones who make the problem more complicated because we hold back their resources to create chaos,” Demetrius reasons

“So you create a problem to start a nationwide domination to be the gods who save those who are worthy of your care, making billions off of the sufferings?” Azrael realizes the schemes.

Demetrius laughs under his breath.

“Precisely, that is why we need these super-soldiers as our guards, to protect us from idealistic fanatics like you, who will not comply with our ways of aspiring for a one-nation order,” Demetrius says.

“So you’re not just playing god, but you’re playing the Devil’s advocate as well,” Azrael says, realizing the revelation of his madness.

“We are the gods of the nations, but the Devil, you stay out of his way, and he stays out of ours.” Demetrius boastfully speaks.

Azrael and Demetrius stare at each other.

“It’s called enlightenment.” Demetrius proudly says.

Azrael shakes his head in disbelief,

“So you can accept the evils of the nations, but not the righteous?” he questions pointing heavenward.

Demetrius’ eyes follow.

“Out of curiosity, who is your Maker?” Azrael probes.

“As I said, we know and we don’t give a damn, so we devised a way to discourage Elohim’s proper name, because we don’t need them. We have everything we need for our kingdom, and because we are in the image of Hashem, the masses of the Nations look for a god-like man!

So we create our gods and give the lost souls gods to follow as we condition them to our religious and political views across the nations. We’ve given humanity doctrines to follow, conditioning them to hate Elohim and break his commandments.

We cannot serve two masters, can we? Understand this; this is our world, we make the rules, and we will take it inch by inch, creating our own Utopia, leaving the Creator out of it, showing him that we don’t need him. All he has to do is leave us alone, but to those who want to follow him, that’s their choice, but they will have it hard unless they’re under our dictatorship.

Understand that the Creator can’t do anything, the devil can’t do anything, not even the Malakhim Shamayim or Hell, not even the Nephilim. But I do respect what the Creator is and what he has done for us. He was good to give us everything and gave us man a choice and I have chosen,” Demetrius proudly presents.

Azrael is baffled for a moment, takes a deep breath, and looks at Demetrius in half disappointment, and half distaste.

“You do know how this is going to end, right? And who the ultimate winner is going to be?” Azrael questions.

Demetrius looks at Azrael blankly. Azrael steps over to the edge of the building. Looking out over the city- skyline. Demetrius follows, standing next to him,

“It’s not exactly a safe place out there you know,” Demetrius says.

“What do you mean?” Azrael asks.

“Look around you; the nations have gone insane. It’s the devil’s playground, a place of nightmares, but with the new world order we can take all that away,” Demetrius says.

“You are delusional, and who decides who lives or dies? You and your puppet masters?” Azrael angrily questions.

“Of course, who else could run this place better than us? Believe me, we got it all planned out better than you can imagine” Demetrius questions with pride.

“If anyone’s at fault for the craziness of our way of living, it’s on you, idiots, with all your Illuminati secret organizations,” Azrael says sarcastically.

“Tell me, Demetrius, what will happen to you if I take you in?” Azrael asks.

Demetrius perks up with a smile,

“My contacts would release me,” he boasts.

“I see, but I can’t sit idly by. You understand it’s only business,” Azrael sarcastically remarks.

Demetrius looks sharply at Azrael,

“You can never expose this,” Demetrius smugly retorts.

“Do yourself a favor and get out of here and forget about all this. You may live to retirement; you seem like you can handle whatever comes your way,” Demetrius warns him.

“I’m still taking you in, Mr. Blackwell, Nobody controls my values for the sake of convenience,” Azrael declares, looking down on him.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Demetrius says as he points his gun at Azrael’s face.

“Seriously, here I thought we were having a productive conversation,” Azrael says.

“You do understand this is only business, correct?” Demetrius questions as he cocks his weapon.

“Correct” Azrael smiles,

With lightning reflexes, Azrael grabs Demetrius’ hand, a friendly fire accidentally happens; the bullet ricochets off of Azrael’s armor, hitting Demetrius in his chest, and knocking him off his feet. Azrael stands over him crushing his gun.

“You should have known my armor would be bulletproof,” Azrael explains.

“My mistake,” Demetrius laughs to himself.

The radio crackles from Azrael’s earpiece

“Azrael, what has just happened? I heard a gunshot,” Gibbons speaks out with a bit of concern, through the radio- receiver.

“Friendly fire,” Azrael calmly says.

Demetrius struggles to stand, seeing blood oozing from his wounds.

“Get out of here and save yourself,” Demetrius says as he grimaces in pain.

“I’ll take you to the hospital,” Azrael says with compassion.

“No, it’s too late for me. I’ll not make it to the hospital,” Demetrius continues laughing to himself, valiant as ever, albeit reckless.

“He’s potentially right,” Gibbons interjects through his radio receiver.

“I’m pretty sure those gunshots alerted more soldiers, I’d say get out of there if I were you,” Gibbons says with caution.

Azrael looks around the rooftop.

“Are you sure they will find me?” he asks.

Demetrius takes the risk, to trust him, with his concerns.

“The soldiers will find you as long as I am here. They are like bloodhounds; once assigned to their masters, they are connected to the bloodline of their masters, wherever the masters go, they can track them. They have been genetically programmed to do so,” Demetrius explains.

Azrael looks at Demetrius.

“That’s what I’m counting on,” he says.

“What do you mean?” Demetrius weakly asks.

“If you are here, then they know I’m around, and I can flush them out, more the fun.” Azrael confidently states.

“You’re insane!” Demetrius speaks his last words.

“So I have been told,” Azrael says.

Demetrius’ body goes limp, as he falls before Azrael’s feet. He looks down on Demetrius, grateful for the word of wisdom and revelation, and how Shekinah had moved upon him with the spirit of confession. In reality, Demetrius would not be so gullible to reveal and confess all his sins.

“The wicked are cut off from the land of the living, and the treacherous are uprooted from it,” he prayerfully mutters.

Azrael picks Demetrius off the ground and drops him off the edge of the building, with a tinge of profound sadness.

Back in the Dagonslayer, Gibbons is using electronic binoculars, and she sees Azrael dumping Demetrius over the edge of the building,

“Azrael, what are you doing?” Gibbons asks over the radio.

“Making a distraction,” Azrael says over her earpiece.

Then he jumps onto the edge of the building.

“How are you going to get out of there? Mr. Blackwell’s super soldiers are combing the building,” Gibbons warns.

I will meet you later, you doubtful one.

Azrael out,” he says as he steps off the ledge. He lands safely on his feet, fading into the shadows as he slowly crosses the evening streets, avoiding the huge confrontation that awaits.

Military vehicles, police cars, and ambulances are parked in front of the Areth Tower, where Demetrius’ body lies dead, along with his two agents. As the remnants of the super soldiers and police searched through the area in search of the killer, the medical team bagged and placed the corpses inside ambulances to help clean up the area.

Gibbons watches in awe, as Azrael lands safely on his feet, while his satellite picks up a local military base outside of Areth.

“I’ll never get used to this. He just walked off the edge of a thirty-story building,” Gibbons laughed.

As he sits in the driver’s seat and drives to their next appointment, he is overcome with unbelief.

UNDERWORLD

Three in the morning, Gibbons is driving the Dagonslayer, while his computers in the back are monitoring satellite data readings. Azrael is riding Spirit side by side. They make their way to a Military outpost, outside of Areth. Gibbons parks the van behind some trees and bushes, switches on cloak mode, making the van invisible to its surroundings.

Azrael flips a switch and Spirit goes into stealth mode. He comes to a complete stop; at cross way he switches on his radio -receiver in his ear. He releases a drone to map out the facilities.

Gibbons observes the monitors; they indicate a heat bloom, it draws out a 3D structure of the facility below ground,

“Okay. It’s an underground facility. So much for the employees’ view. I do believe this is the underground base where they’re playing god,” Gibbons says.

“Now I am going to test your theory,” Azrael says over the radio- receiver.

Azrael quietly rides to the military outpost. He fades into night, as a military truck exits the entrance of the facility; like the wind he passes through without being seen.

“I am in,” he informs.

Gibbons sees a blip on his monitor as he makes his way to the main facility. He adjusts a knob for a closer view. The view focuses on Azrael who is entering the facility road.

“Okay, so far so good,” Gibbons says.

“Next time I hide, you seek,” Azrael says over the radio.

“I’m not the one with super power given by Elohim,” Gibbons says with a chuckle.

Azrael climbs off of Spirit, and he stealthily moves toward the facility.

A guard comes out of one of the doors looking around. Azrael quickly disappears into the shadows. He passes the soldier and enters into the facility and continues down the hall.

Azrael ducks behind a square pillar eyeing a guard on patrol. Azrael runs up from behind guard and puts him into a sleeper hold, and squeezes him unconscious, he puts him down and takes his badge and swipes the electronic keypad and stealthily enters the next facility.

He continues to use the shadows to hide from the physical world; his eyes are on another guard, who is doing his job patrolling his post. His radio crackles.

“Alpha eight, report to HQ,” says the voice over the radio,

“10-4 on my way,” he says.

The guard heads for the hallway.

He walks past Azrael, unaware of his presence, and opens the door with his electronic key and exits. Azrael stealthily passes through the closing door, moves to another pillar and hugs up against it.

The first guard inside the facility goes in another direction. Azrael peeks his head out to see if the coast is clear. He sees the main door.

He turns on his 3D HUD from his bracer, and scans the area with an x-ray that shows the main entrance beyond the main door.

“Bingo,” he says, turning off his HUD.

He attempts to advance through the main door when another guard enters the lobby. Azrael calmly steps back and keeps his eyes on the guard.

The guard goes down the hallway. He stops in front of a vending machine next to the main door, before slipping in some credits to get his snacks.

“I got to get in there. Looks like I’ve gotta take him down as well, “Azrael says to himself.

He stealthily sneaks up behind the guard, wraps his arms over his head, and safely knocks him out with a squeeze.

He picks the guard up over his shoulder and puts him into a storage closet, taking his security key and locking him in.

Azrael moves to the main door, swiping the main console. The light changes from red to green. It unlocks as it buzzes open, and he moves inside. He is now standing in a square room with an elevator. He pushes the button. The doors open, and he gets in. The elevator closes and descends.

“This is definitely going somewhere; most likely to an underground facility,” he thinks to himself.

The elevator stops thirty feet below ground level. Coming off the elevator, he sees a fifteen-foot twin door.

“Whew, talk about your privacy. Knowing the way things are going, I probably will meet up with some kind of an oversized gorilla,” he says to himself as he pushes open the doors.

The area is wide and endless, with many doors on each side of the facility. He moves down the hall cautiously.

“I’m in a long hallway thirty stories below ground level, and it seems to be empty, or maybe everyone is asleep,” he mutters to himself.

Azrael advances forward checking the doors. Suddenly, he stops midway and feels a strange life-force.

“I’m not sure what to make of this feeling,” he says.

Azrael swipes the badge computer console to the door; it clicks open. He pushes the door open and walks in.

FREAK SHOW

It is a large lab with open glass organism chambers. He hears something whimpering and moves down the room. He comes to a corner and turns; he stops. He sees a half-human, half reptilian. The reptilian is part Velociraptor with feeble clawed reptile- arms, with a human bottom torso, partly scaled. It jumps back; scared before cowering into the dark recesses of the cage.

“I feel like I have just walked into The Island of Dr. Moreau,” Azrael says.

He moves closer to get a better look.

“Click, click, click, who are you, click?” speaks the creature.

“What are you?” Azrael asks in turn.

“Click, click, click, Reptoid, click,” answers the creature.

Azrael steps up to the cage. The creature pulls away violently.

“Click, click, click, no more needles …click,” chirps Reptoid.

“Easy…. I’m not here to give you needles,” Azrael says.

He places the electronic key on a desk near the cage.

“Click, click-click, hungry,” Reptoid begs.

Hungry, for what?” Azrael asks.

The Reptilian creature lifts his claw-like hand and points over Azrael’s shoulder.

“Click, click, click, behind you, click,” it insists.

Azrael looks at the creature for a moment.

“Where?” he asks.

“Click, click, click, cabinet, click,” Reptoid replies.

“Okay. But what are you and how did you get here?” Azrael questions as he backs toward the cabinet.

Reptoid clenches the cage. It snaps its jaws in a frenzy of hunger.

“Click, click, click, please, please, behind, click,” Reptoid excitedly expresses.

Azrael opens the cabinet warily and sees some dried fish in it. He holds it up. Reptoid gets excited and opens its mouth like a hungry seal.

“This?” Azrael asks.

Reptoid nods his head and keeps its mouth wide open. Azrael takes out the fish and tosses it into the mouth of Reptoid, which catches the fish and chews and swallows.

“You’re welcome,” Azrael says with a bit of uneasiness.

Reptoid motions Azrael to get closer. Azrael stands his ground.

“No thanks,” he says.

“Click, click, click, me here before, click,” Reptoid explains.

“Let me guess. You’ve been here all your life, eh?” questions Azrael.

He looks around the room and then back at the cage. Reptoid goes crazy.

“Click, Click, Click, Click, Click, Click” Reptoid tries to speak.

“I guess that means yes,” Azrael sarcastically says.

Reptoid raises its head toward the ceiling in glee and lowers it back at Azrael.

“Reptoid, what is wrong?” he asks.

“Click, click, click, me hide, friend hide fast, click, click,” warns Reptoid.

Azrael turns and sees a large silhouette of a bi-peddler reptilian creature patrolling outside of the cage room. Azrael quickly ducks out of sight.

A sniffing sound can be heard. The door squeaks open and then shuts. Azrael is hiding and observing in the shadows, eyeing the beastly soldier.

A large twelve-foot-tall bi-peddler reptilian comes to view, geared in military armor. It enters the room and pokes its head, around sniffing the air. He carries a large automatic weapon.

“That is something you don’t see every day; Godzilla with a gun,” Azrael quietly amuses himself.

The Reptilian Soldier walks past Azrael, then stops tactfully, surveys the area, and then he fixes his gaze on the cage where Reptoid stays.

“Click, click, click, why Gog here, click?” Reptoid questions.

“Reptoid I smell food? Why is the door open?” Gog points to the cabinet,” asking questions.

Azrael shakes his head.

“Oh, this gets better, a talking lizard with a gun,” he complains to himself as he stealthily positions himself at a distance, listening and watching in the shadows.

Reptoid slowly comes out of its shadow with its head bent low. It opens its mouth.

“Click, click, friend, feed me, click,” Reptoid asks.

Gog looks around then back at Reptoid.

“Feeding time doesn’t matter; Reptoid’s friend matters. Where is your friend?” Gog says grabbing Reptoid.

Gog raises his nose sniffing the air. He lets Reptoid go, and walks around. He squints his eyes down and sees a badge on the table.

”Hmm. Something is not right, Reptoid, this badge doesn’t match,” Gog says as he shows it to Reptoid and tosses it at him.

Azrael reaches for the badge that he takes when he realizes he has left it on the table.

“That was smart of me,” Azrael complains to himself.

Gog turns. He moves down the hallway to the security door. He stands there for a moment and continues to sniff around, before turning back.

“Okay, friend of Reptoid, I don’t know who you are, or who has authorized your entrance,” Gog threatens as he cocks his weapon.

A steel cage comes flying out of the shadows and it hits Gog in the head. Gog is thrown against the far wall from the force of the steel cage.

He pushes the cage off of himself, staggering to his feet, and then slowly falls back against the wall to catch his balance.

Azrael comes out from the shadows with his gun and sword in hand.

“Perfect. Now to get some answers,” he says pointing his gun at Gog.

Gog, stunned from the blow to the head, falls over landing before Azrael’s feet unconscious.

“Must have hit him harder than I expected,” Azrael retorts.

Azrael sheaths his weapons and drags the Reptilian Soldier toward the back room and he kicks open the double door freezer. It’s a large cold storage space.

Azrael drags Gog into the cold storage and closes the door behind them. The reptilian beast feels cold as he comes to. He sees Azrael standing before him.

“Oh, my head. What has happened?” Gog questions.

“Me,” Azrael says.

Gog stands up as Azrael lifts Brimstone and points it at Gog’s head. The Reptilian Soldier is not amused.

“Who are you and who has authorized you to point that pea-shooter at me, little human,” angrily questions Gog.

“Little?” Azrael says,

He steps up to Gog and kicks him in his leg, snapping his femur bone with one hit. Gog feels the pain and falls back.

“How’s that for a little?” Azrael challenges.

Gog slowly stands, favoring his strong legs while looking down on Azrael.

“No mortal could have hit me so hard with one hit, but you have broken my bone,” Gog laments, seething in pain.

“What are you? Some kind of a new generation clone?” Gog asks with curiosity.

Azrael shakes his head.

“Why does everybody think I am some type of test tube experiment?” he questions aloud, cynically.

“There is no other explanation why you can do the things you do.” Gog speaks his mind.

“News flash… Godzilla, before there was science, there was a Creator and his name was Yahuah. In the equation of your Gods, and their science which have totally forgotten to explain this part to you, this authority that I come by is in the name of Yeshua and higher than any authority in Adamah,” Azrael says.

“I know whom you speak of; do not destroy me,” Gog suddenly apprehends and pleads in fear.

“That depends on you,” Azrael replies.

“What do you want?” Gog asks.

“Answers. First, I want to know what you and Dumbo over there are?” asked Azrael.

Azrael demands, as he points his thumb toward the back door where Reptoid sits.

“Our genetics are of an ancient race; we are part of a Malakhim species, when Heyl’el drew one third of the Malakhim in his rebellion, we the Chalkydri believed in him for he was like the behemoth in the sky, massive and beautiful. My ancestors believed in his cause,” Gog explains.

Gog leans against the wall, feeling weak and cold.

“I am called Gog. The first superior reptilian since five thousand years, I am genetically created with human and reptilian DNA,” he answers weakly.

“How many are you?” interrogates Azrael.

“We are a colony that your science created. Our dwelling is beyond the ice walls of Dudael, a land that dates back to prehistoric times,” he continues.

“Okay, how does this place link together?” Azrael continues to question.

“Tunnels that lead out to many bases across Adamah,” Gog answers.

“So the upstairs research facility is unused?” Azrael questions.

“It has its uses. But if you mean a cover for this base, then you would be correct,” Gog replies.

Azrael nods to indicate Reptoid’s cage room. How does mini-me out there have anything to do with all this?” Azrael continues.

Gog gives Azrael a disgusted look. Azrael pokes Gog with his sword to wake him up. Gog squelches.

“Reptoid is a test fetus. We just keep him around for nostalgia’s sake and test for cellular comparison,” explains the reptile soldier.

“So you torture your own kind?” Azrael asks.

Gog huffs, snorts and scoffs.

“And how about your kind who is formed in the image of Yah, yet you kill your own by the millions. For what?

You long to be gods, you who created us,” Gog replies.

“Those who created you think they are greater than Yahuah, but He made nature to have balance, but those in power are seeking to destroy that balance for their selfish agendas,” Azrael adds in.

Gog chuckles.

“Yes I know. You Would call our kind evil, because we’re different from you. But when we see your kind, we call you wicked,” Gog reasons with Azrael.

You eat your own, murdering your children through the art of abortions; it’s a big business for the stem research programs,” Gog protests with Azrael.

“You’re way over your head, human. So do to me what you see fit, Man of Yah, but mark my words, humanity is about to have war with every imaginable nightmare that they have created,” Gog continues, nodding his head negatively.

“So what are you going to do now?” Gog asks.

Azrael leans back.

“Whatever it takes,” Azrael replies.

Azrael stands, and blows Gog away with a headshot. He then sees a thumb drive around Gog’s neck and he pulls it off.

“A knowledge of wealth protected by a lizard. Good strategy. Gibbons! Early Hanukkah gift,” he says, sticking it into his belt pouch.

Azrael walks out of the storage room. Reptoid is frightened from the gunshot. He sees the storage room doors open.

“Click, click, click Gog give me the human to eat, Reptoid hungry, click,” Reptoid growls.

Reptoid’s eyes widen with fear as he sees Azrael coming out from the shadows.

“And here I thought Reptoid was a friend,” Azrael says, disappointed at Reptoid wanting to make a prey out of him.

“Click, click, click Impossible, click, Gog, stronger, click, human weak, click,” Reptoid fearfully speaks.

Azrael takes a deep breath.

“Gog is dead, Reptoid must die too,” Azrael replies.

Reptoid is frightened and jumps back to the back of his cage and then lunges at Azrael with his gaping jaws. Azrael blows Reptoid away with one shot to his head.

”Goodbye, my one-time friend,” Azrael says, sheathing his gun fading into the shadows.

INTRUSION

The alarm is heard over the base. Some soldiers come busting through the doors. Azrael fades into the shadows. The soldiers see Reptoid dead; another guard finds Gog dead in the storage area.

“Sarge, Gog is dead and so is the new specimen,” reports the soldier.

“Lock everything down: nobody in, nobody out, search this whole floor,” commands the Sergeant,

“Yes sir,” complies the soldier.

One of the soldiers sees Azrael with his infra-red night goggles and points his gun, yelling.

“Down on the ground!” he commands.

Azrael leaps at the soldier and disarms him, knocking him out.

Another soldier fires off a few rounds .The bullets do no harm against Azrael. He goes toe- to- toe with the remaining soldiers, tossing them like rag-dolls and knocking them out.

Sarge is left pointing his gun at Azrael.

“Bravo team! Stand down. It’s obviously one of the new super soldier clones,” commands the sergeant.

Azrael is relaxed. He slowly moves back, keeping his eyes on the Sarge who is still stoically pointing his gun at his target.

“So you are creating giants and monsters?” Azrael asks sarcastically.

“Who the hell are you?” orders the sergeant, insulted.

They continue to point their guns at each other.

“Long story… Maybe someday we can sit down and have a couple of brew skis and tell you about it, but know that you cannot kill me, but I will kill you if you attempt,” Azrael threatens.

“I can’t just let you go; you just destroyed twenty billion credits worth of research,” the sergeant states.

“Sure you can’t, but you will,” Azrael confidently speaks with authority.

“Why the hell would I do that?” questions the sergeant.

Azrael and the sergeant slowly circle each other, pointing their guns at each other.

“The moment of truth. Death or life, but you’re not thinking,” Azrael says.

“Think about what? My job?” the sergeant questions.

“No, your family; your wife, your two children male and female,” Azrael prophesied.

The Sarge is boggled with fear and awe.

“What do you know of my family?” the sergeant angrily questions.

“Nothing but they do love you and they would miss you dearly if you were killed on duty. But it’s your choice,” Azrael says.

The Sarge lowers his gun and sheaths it. Azrael does the same.

“Follow me,” the sergeant says as he leads Azrael to the Hangar Bay.

The Sarge pretends to have an important conversation with Azrael as he gives him his papers.

“This isn’t over yet Mister, but to avoid any other conflict or embarrassments, I am letting you go,” the sergeant says.

“It’s a shame that you have chosen a losing side, sergeant,” Azrael says as he boards the shuttle.

“What faction do you work for?” questions the sergeant.

Azrael smiles and adjusts his hat, “Shamayim.” He replies.

Sarge is left dumbfounded, not apprehending what Azrael was saying.

“I have not heard of that nation,” he says with questions in his mind.

“You will soon,” Azrael says.

The shuttle doors close. Azrael salutes the sergeant and then takes a seat, as the shuttle train pulls away.

Thirty minutes later, the shuttle stops and Azrael gets off along with the others. Soldiers check papers at the checkout points. They direct everyone to their proper tunnel exits.

Azrael is directed to go to his exit. He salutes the soldier who has checked his papers and he departs. Azrael stops and sees a sign that says, ‘Empire D.C.’

“Oh, so this is where I am ending up. Interesting,” he says to himself.

Azrael ascends up the stairs and out of the facilities into a world of darkness, where power is corrupted and humankind are enslaved to their transgressions of the Torah, controlled by a world of iniquities of supernatural beings.

HAUNTINGS

A full moon looms over the small town of Zapatera. The spirit of the white lady moves about on the balcony of the old Charlotte Mansion. She sees two young adults approaching her property. She walks off, vanishing from sight. Matt and Grace, in their early twenties, come walking up to the old mansion.

“Well, this is the place,” Grace says with a hint of excitement in her voice.

“I have a terrible feeling about this,” Matt says, feeling concerned.

They stopped at the front of the building. Matt takes pictures, as Grace surveys the area. Matt sees the white lady in the left window of the Mansion, and rubs his eyes in disbelief.

“Did you see that, Grace?” Matt asks with concern. Grace looks around and sees nothing.

“See what?” she asks.

“A woman in a wedding gown is in the window,” Matt says, pointing to the window where he sees the apparition.

“You must be seeing things, Matt. I see nothing,” Grace laughed at her boyfriend’s cowardice.

“Remind me again, why are we here?” Matt questions, feeling afraid.

“The production company, “Hauntings Are Us” paid us for this job. Remember, you said, ‘you’ll be my hero, my protector’; some hero you’re turning out to be,” Grace laughed mockingly at him.

“Well truth be known, Grace, I was a bit jealous of that camera guy you were supposed to go with, that looked like Fabula the male model,” Matt says with a bit of embarrassment.

“I am flattered Matt, let’s get to work,” Grace says as she kisses him.

She pulls away playfully, and approaches the front porch; Matt follows her with a smile on his face. Doors open on their own with creaky welcomes. They glance at each other and shrug their shoulders in disbelief. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Grace enters the abandoned residence. Matt stood there momentarily.

“Why is it that my girlfriend is not afraid of anything?” he grumbled under his breath.

He reluctantly moved into the residence. Grace takes her flashlight, and Matt puts his headlight on, as they move deeper into the building. While exploring, Matt grows less confident, for all he sees is a decrepit building.

“Why is it that some people can see apparitions, and we can’t?” Matt asks out of curiosity.

Grace says with her cryptic wit, “Fortune does not come twice and misfortune does not come alone.”

“Will you please stop showing off with your cryptic messages? You know I could never figure those things out,” Matt says with a flutter of agitation.

“Simple my dear. Be careful what you wish for,” Grace says with a smile.

They continue, but they feel a cold breeze for a moment, when the White Lady appears and disappears. They turn and see nothing. They come to two rooms.

“You take that room, and I will take the other,” Grace says as they split up.

Matt finds himself in a large empty room. His headlight flickers off; he sees an illuminated woman in a wedding gown. At first glance, she is transparent and slowly approaches him as if he were in a dream. There is a coldness about the woman; she is beautiful and mysterious.

Matt is mesmerized. His heart beats like a drum within his chest, as the White Lady reaches for him. Her beauty transforms into a hideous demon. Matt screams as she takes him through a portal. Grace hears Matt’s scream and runs back to the room where all she can see is his head light lying on the floor.

“Oh Matt, where are you?” she questions herself, feeling remorse for her loss.

SKEPTICISM

A lovely day in Areth, partly cloudy, birds chirping, on the campus of the University of Daath, an academic oasis away from the city. There are dozens of beautiful fountains and sculptures surrounding a regal brick building. A sports automobile pulls into the parking lot. Maya, in her mid-thirties, is dressed in dungaree jeans, a jacket, boots, a white T-shirt, a ponytail, and sunglasses. She eyes the university sign and looks at her newspaper ad, and then back at the school.

“Well this is definitely the place. Here goes nothing,” she says as she releases a deep sigh.

As Maya enters the halls of the university, she passes through twin doors. The facilities are quite large, with lockers against the main walls. Students hurry to reach their classes. She takes a stroll through the building, looking for the antique shop mentioned in the ad.

“Damn, this place is huge,” Maya complains to herself, feeling anxious.

She strolled around the halls for fifteen minutes, finding herself at the south end of the building. She sees the antique shop.

“Finally, but this is a strange place to have an antique shop in the middle of a school. This guy is either a genius or he’s totally insane,” Maya jokes to herself.

She enters through the glass doors of the shop. A pleasant jingle from a bell gives a warm welcome to customers who enter. The door slowly closes. Maya’s eyes are fixated on the decorated store; it’s filled with all kinds of books, glass cases with trinkets, and artifacts.

“Enter, don’t be shy,” said Gibbons.

He’s sitting at his desk, skimming through newspaper clippings, and cataloging records on his computer. Maya walks up to the desk and clears her throat to get his attention, but Gibbons ignores her and continues logging.
“Professor Gibbons, I am Maya Malaya. We talked on the phone the other day. You’re looking for a forensic graduate?” she asks as she slides her files to him.

Gibbons pauses for a moment. He opens her files, and glances through them.

“Proof! I need proof!” he says as he closes her file.

“Excuse me, sir?” she questions.

Gibbons glances up, looking like he is a bit out of his mind.

“Proof? Proof of what? What are you talking about? Proof of my credentials?” Maya asks. “I am a graduate of Forensic Science. I graduated at the top of my class. Here is my proof,” she continued.

Gibbons looked at her.

“This is a fact-finding mission for supernatural activities,” Gibbons states.

Maya is lost for words, and feels awkward.

“Excuse me, sir? Did you just say “supernatural”?” Maya asks.

“That’s correct supernatural evidence is the proof we are looking for. Did I not mention this in the ad?” Gibbons asks.

“I am afraid not, sir,” Maya replied.

Maya is flustered with embarrassment and takes her folder. She stops halfway out of the shop.

“Professor, I do not believe in gods, I do not believe in devils, nor do I believe in demons or angels or any kind of apparitions or spiritual creatures that you may call them,” she declares with vehemence.

Gibbons looks at her with a slight grin on his face.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact sir, I believe in facts, I believe in science, I believe in what my eyes can see,” she states confidently, as she heads out.

Gibbons stands and clears his throat.

“Maya wait! You are what I am looking for. I need a skeptic like you to keep me in check.”

“Excuse me, Sir, I am not following,” Maya says with confusion in her tone. Gibbons steps away from his desk. He approaches her with a newspaper.

“There are these disappearances, of young men vanishing at the Charlotte mansion in Zapatera, and three nights ago, another disappearance,” he says as he hands Maya the newspaper.

Maya skims her eyes over the newspapers and stops at the word “DISAPPEARANCE.”

“Disappearance... Okay, I see where this is going, I think maybe this guy was just playing a practical joke on his girlfriend. A supernatural event? I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed.

“Well, we do have an eyewitness,” Gibbons says.

Maya looked at Gibbons skeptically.

“And who is this witness that we are supposed to trust and believe?” Maya sarcastically expresses disbelief.

“The girlfriend,” Gibbons says with a triumphant smile.

“Okay, maybe they were doing drugs or maybe they were drinking alcohol. You know how these things can affect the psyche when intoxicated,” she states the obvious. Gibbons continues to smile.

“Or maybe you’re afraid of the truth,” he suggests.

Maya seems to be feeling challenged.

“No I am not afraid, but I’ll bite; it’s your money,” she says with sarcasm.

“Humor, you’ll definitely need it for this job,” Gibbons says as he laughs. Azrael walks in.

“Who is this guy?” she questions as she is taken by the size of this man.

“He’s the muscle of the group,” Gibbons replied.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she says, admiring him from a distance.

“Azrael, this is Maya, our first employee. She’s a forensics officer,” continues Gibbons, well-naturedly. Azrael holds his hand out to shake hers. She steps away from him.

“Nice to meet you Miss Maya; congratulations on your first job,” he congratulated.

“Likewise,” she says as she ignores his handshake.

Gibbons turns on the monitor on the far wall. Satellite images of Charlotte’s Mansion are shown with color blips of red and green. Gibbons reports to Azrael,

“We have a case in our local region of Zapatera at the Charlotte Mansion.”

“Any idea what we’re dealing with?” Azrael asks.

“I believe it is a vengeful ghost,” Onryo Gibbons declares as he shows a 3D hologram of the ghost. Maya interrupts with skepticism,

“Maybe it’s just a practical joke, a test of love, to see if the woman cares enough about her man to look for him.”

Azrael looks at Maya amused.

“Interesting theory Maya, this is why we need to investigate.” Azrael says studying the monitor. Maya protests,

“There’s no concrete evidence for a spiritual realm to exist when there’s no evidence outside of the Physical Realm.”

Azrael turns and approaches Maya slowly.

“Ye of small faith, you have eyes but you do not see. It’s a simple calculation Maya. Fear feeds the Darkness, and the Darkness breeds evil, and the evil that you breathe is unbelief. But when you begin to believe, you will see.” Azrael says, giving her a slight rebuke.

Maya felt the sting of this warrior’s words. As she considers herself in the midst of her flaws, she asks the question.

“Okay, I’ll bite, what causes a vengeful spirit?” she asks cynically.

“See, I like this girl. She asks the right questions.

Maya paces back and forth trying to wrap her mind around what’s going on with these two men.

“Legend has it that a vengeful spirit is of a dead person returning from the afterlife to seek revenge for a cruel or unjust death. But truth be known, according to scriptures these spirits are demons.” Azrael says.
Demons? How do you conclude that a ghost could be a demon?” Maya asks.

“It started with Noah. After the flood the disembodied spirits of the Nephilim wreaked havoc on Noah’s descendants. So Noah prayed to Yahuah and He imprisoned ninety percent of these unclean spirits and bound them into the abyss,” Azrael explains.

What about the other ten present? What happened to them?” Maya asked inquisitively.

Gibbons shows some graphics on the main monitor.

“Heyl’el the Devil, asked for them so Yahuah gave him the remaining ten present to use to test and to punish those who refuse to obey Yahuah’s commandments. Gibbons says.

“Why did this supposed loving Creator create these giants?” Maya asks with disbelief.

“He didn’t. The Watchers who came down from Shamayim to teach humanity how to live righteously transgressed Yahuah’s law of purity by taking for themselves spouses and fornicating with them. Therefore, the Nephilim were born.” Azrael explains.

“So these malevolent spirits take on the shape of the soul that they torment in life henceforth the entity that roams around is a Nephilim ghost, as you would know them as a demon. For they were once flesh, and they desire to taste that flesh again,” Gibbons concludes.

“Maya, there is an unseen war battling for your soul, for we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the powers, principalities, rulers, authorities and the wickedness in high places. Therefore if you do not know what you’re dealing with, you’re always liable to get burned. Knowledge is power no matter how ridiculous things may seem, but there is always an answer for something” Azrael warns with an explanation.

“So you’re telling me, the offspring of Malakhim and humans are actually demons, who torment us because they have no place to go and because we transgress against the commandments of this Creator you’re talking about?”

Maya laughed.

“I am standing with the Grim Brothers; do you know how ridiculous this sounds? It’s a fairy tale, this stuff does not exist!” Maya sighs with disbelief.

Gibbons shakes his head laughing as he looks at Azrael to change the subject.

“Those witches you battled against open up a ripple effect and this would explain these strange readings I’ve been picking up from the satellites.

Maya looks at Gibbons with questions swimming in her mind. Gibbons seizes the opportunity.

“Got to love your skepticism right?” he laughed.

Maya folds her arms, and nods her head with attitude, “Angels, Witches, Gods, Demons really guys?”

“It’s true Maya, this is not a fairy tale, and again congratulations on your newly acquired position,” Azrael sarcastically replies.

Gibbons pulls out two thousand credits and gives them to Maya.

“Here’s your payment up front. If you decide to leave us after this first case, you are free to leave,” Gibbons presents Maya with her wages.

She looks at the currency and then back at Gibbons with a surprised look.

“You just gave me two thousand credits; why?” she questions with disbelief.

“Every person is worth their hire and don’t worry, there is plenty more where that came from if you decide to stay, but let the record show that your skepticism balances out my supposed biased beliefs, it’s perfect for the work we do,” Gibbons says with confidence.

Maya stares at the card for a moment then she pockets it.

“Okay, so what will I be doing?” she asks.

Gibbons points to the equipment on the other side of the room. Maya looks surprised.

“For starters, I need some help to take that equipment and pack it up and put it into the Dagonslayer, and when we arrive on location we set up shop,” Gibbons explains.

Azrael, Gibbons, and Maya grab the equipment and head out to the back area of the building where they find Gibbons’ cargo van, known as the Dagonslayer. Maya furls her eyebrows a bit.

“You gotta be kidding me, we’re riding in that thing?” she laughed mockingly.

“Yes, don’t knock it till you try it. The Dagonslayer may not look like much from the outside, but inside it’s a whole new world,” Gibbons says as he opens the side door. The three looked at each other then back at the equipment.

“This is a new beginning for us my friends,” Gibbons says, with a grin from ear to ear. Azrael smiles slightly as he walks off.

“I’ll leave it to you two eggheads to take care of things. I’ll meet you at Charlotte’s Mansion,” he says as he climbs on Spirit and rides off. Maya spies the motorcycle Spirit, and is super impressed by its design.

“Nice wheels,” she expressed, in awe.

Gibbons and Maya look inside the Dagonslayer; it’s filled with shelves of computers with the latest hardware, software, and weapons cargo.

“Wow, you ain’t kidding Professor,” Maya exclaimed with absolute awe. Gibbons hands over the keys to the van.

“You’re driving,” Gibbons says.

He climbs in, taking his favorite seat, firing up his computers. She climbs into the driver’s seat, and examines the dashboard and maneuvers the switches of the van, getting familiar with it before driving off.

“Time is of the essence. Maya, let’s get cracking,” Gibbons says.

“Yes sir,” she says.

Maya takes the van out of the alleyway onto the main road, making their way to their destination.

WHITE LADY

The Charlotte Mansion sits on the outskirts of Areth. The Mansion itself is settled on an acre of land with its own cemetery. A transparent mist hovers over the warm, wet grounds. Its iron gates decrepit, looking like a toothless woman.

Bright lights shine in the darkness. Gibbons and Maya arrive on sight. They park the Cargo Van, climb out, unpack their gear, and set up shop.

“Everything’s a go,” said Gibbons as he fired up his computers.

“This is one creepy old place, Professor,” says Maya, with a hint of fear in her voice.

A police vehicle pulls up; a policewoman inside the vehicle focuses her gaze on Gibbons.

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a permit for this residence?” asked the officer. Gibbons pulled out his permit to investigate the area.

“A matter of fact, I do, but let the record show I am the City Chairman of Areth,” Gibbons says as he gives her the papers puffing his authority.

The Policewoman skims her eyes over the paperwork before handing it back to him.

“Everything looks in order, Mr. Chairman, but let me give you a friendly reminder; people have been reported missing in these parts, especially men, so if I were you, be cautious,” said the officer as she drove off and vanished.

Goosebumps run up and down Gibbons’ spine. He shakes off the uneasy feeling as he sees the vehicle vanish.

“Nice try, spooky, but that will not scare me off that easily,” Gibbons says to himself as he sits at his computer.

Unaware of what’s going on, Maya stares at the weathered-down two-story mansion. She sees patches of ivy vines blanketing the structure; its broken windows cover the termite-infested wood structure of a balcony.

“Is everything okay, Professor?” Maya asks.

Gibbons smiles.

“Yes, everything’s fine. We’ve got work to do, so let’s focus,” Gibbons says with a hint of nervousness.

Maya looks over her shoulder at Gibbons.

“So what’s our game plan, Professor?” she asks.

Gibbons runs his fingers over his keyboard, trying to get information about the mansion. He says,

“First we have to investigate the history which I am doing at this moment as I pursue some articles.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?” Maya inquires, feeling redundant.

“You see that phone-like device? That’s an Electromagnetic Fields device or what we call an EMF,” he explains.

“So, with this EMF, what am I looking for?” she asks.

Maya fiddles with the device, trying to figure out how it works. Gibbons sees Maya struggling to operate the device, so he pulls away from his computer, approaches her, and shows her how to work the EMF device.

“Maya, a popular theory is that ghosts are pure energy. The EMF is designed to detect fields emitted by moving electrically charged objects, he explains.

“In other words, it measures fields produced by alternating current,” Maya says, trying to show she understands.

“Yeah, you nailed it,” Gibbons complimented.

“Thanks,” Maya replied, relieved.

She walks away and begins to scan the area. Maya picks up a humming whistle from her device, which now has lights turning red and showing the meter bar active on the device.

“Professor, I’m not sure what I’m looking at, but I got this humming whistle coming off the device, and the bar shows the temperature dropping quickly,” Maya says aloud.

Gibbons pulls away from his computer once again. He moves next to Maya to check the device. Maya feels the excitement, yet she struggles with doubts lingering at the back of her mind. Gibbons freezes with fear as the wind blows his hat off his head.

He slowly lifts his eyes and sees a transparent woman in a wedding gown standing on the second-floor balcony. Maya gets a glimpse of the apparition as she rubs her eyes as if she is dreaming.

“This can’t be happening; there’s no such thing as ghosts,” she tries to rationalize for herself.

Gibbons pinches her on the arm. Wrenching through the pain, she glares at him, glowering.

“Why did you do that?” she asked while holding her arm. Gibbons smiles,

“You’re not dreaming, Maya. I see it, too,” he says as he stares at the transparent woman on the balcony.

Maya couldn’t believe her eyes as she stood there dumbfounded, rubbing her arm.

“What do we do now, professor?” Maya asks.

The White Lady disappears just as Azrael pulls in. He climbs off Spirit and comes up from behind Gibbons and Maya.

“Did I miss anything?” Azrael asks.

“Just in time for the show,” Gibbons reports.

Azrael walks to the Dagonslayer, and opens the vehicle, and pulls out some weapon crates. He waves at Maya to get her attention. She walks over to him as he open the crates neatly rowed bullets with magazines and two 9 mm handguns with laser point.

“Here is what we have in our armory. Maya, here are armor-piercing bullets; these guys are fantastic against creatures with plates and thick hides. Here we have witch-hunting bullets, and these will kill any witches no matter how powerful they seem to be. Here we have iron ghost bullets. Though ghosts cannot die, these babies here will keep them at bay,” he explains.

Azrael picks up a shotgun from a weapon crate. He pulls out some homemade salt shells, loads them into the gun, and cocks it.

“These are salt rounds. It will leave a mark on anything living, but it is lethal to evil spirits. When you see them, do not hesitate to shoot them. Malevolent spirits will throw you across rooms, and they can kill you, if you’re not protected by Yahuah,” he explains.

Maya stands there listening. She gives him a look of arrogance. Azrael interprets that she doesn’t fully understand.

“So, do you know how to handle a gun?” Azrael asked her with concern for her safety. Maya smiles smugly, takes one of the handguns, loads the iron magazine, cocks the weapon, ready to use.

“I think I do. It’s one of our requirements in the Academy,” she says coldly, feeling slighted. Azrael smiles and gives her the holster for her gun.

“Good. Now gear up,” he commands.

He looks at Gibbons as Maya straps on the holster and gun.

“Are you coming?” Azrael asked.

“You know this creature does not like us men, right? I want you to know I would love to participate, but this apparition has already appeared to me twice, first as a policewoman and then as a white lady. I understand. I’m not like you, and I think Maya will get along wonderfully with her.As such, I will stay behind to research a weakness so you can put this ghost to rest,” Gibbons says with a fluster of chills.

Azrael laughs, as he turns to Maya who listing, she gives off a look of bewilderment and fear, as she finishes strapping her gear on.

“Are you ready for this?” Azrael asks Maya.

Maya remains silent, Gibbons gives his team mates radio transceivers. They inserted it into their ears.

“We’ll stay in communication with these,” Gibbons says as he turns back to his computers.

Azrael glances at Maya. “You’re on my six; let’s go,” he commands.

Azrael and Maya head to the front porch of the house. He kicks open the door, and they enter. They slowly make their way through the decrepit house to the main hall. It is filled with dust, cobwebs, sheets of broken furniture, peeling wallpaper, gaps in the floorboards, and holes in the walls. A chandelier with broken crystal glass lies strewn beneath their feet.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I wonder what my colleagues would think of me at the Academy.” Maya nervously spoke aloud, trying to calm herself down.

“Perhaps they would think that you are out of your mind?” Azrael jokes.

Maya cringes at every creak of the old warped floorboards, and she sees a shadow flicker in the corner of her vision. She freezes, breathing heavily.

“Some job this is turning out to be,” she complains.

Azrael keeps moving forward.

“Do not fear, Maya, for your fear is feeding this darkness. These supernatural creatures we hunt crave fear like children on sugar,” he explains.

He adds, “Even I noticed this.”

“What I feared came upon me quickly; what I dread happened suddenly. So put your fears aside and keep moving,” Azrael encourages.

Maya’s EMF reader turns off, and Azrael smells a fragrance of lemon, peach, and black pepper with a hint of wood. The White Lady appears in the blink of an eye. A shiver of fear curls the hairs on the back of Maya’s neck as the White Lady stands a few feet away from them.

“Oh, creepy woman at twelve-o-clock,” Maya says, getting Azrael’s attention too late.

The White Lady screams like a banshee, tossing her and Azrael across the room with the force of her scream. She disappears as quickly as she appears. Maya and Azrael rise to their feet.

“That was a strange experience. I hope I don’t have to go through that again,” Maya mutters aloud.

The White Lady appears before Azrael. Maya draws her gun and shoots a couple of shots, hitting the apparition, who vanishes like smoke.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at Azrael.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for asking,” he responded, adjusting his hat.

Azrael and Maya approach a narrow hallway with a door at the end of the hall. The White Lady appears, standing before the door. Azrael touches his radio earpiece to speak with Gibbons. Gibbons sees images of Katakana, who was brutally murdered, her missing husband, and pictures of their wedding and the mansion when it was first built.

“Who murdered you, people?” Gibbons raged. As he reads on, he’s interrupted by his radio receiver.

“Gibbons, I believe this ghost we’re dealing with is from Nippon. I smelled peach, black pepper, and lemon with a hint of wood sent, before she appeared and clobbered us,” Azrael explains over the radio receiver.

Gibbons finally finishes compiling his data and responds to Azrael and Maya.

“You’re right, and this ghost is from Nippon. It tormented a woman named Katakana, and she was born in 1860. She was married to Oisin Blackwell in 1890. He brought her here to Zapatera to start a new life, but something went wrong. He went missing on the night of her murder during their wedding night,” Gibbons explains.

“That’s horrible,” Maya gasped in unbelief through the radio receiver.

“The Charlotte Mansion is named after Katakana, and surprisingly her family owned a perfume factory in Nippon called Charlotte Tilbury, and the ingredients include lemon, black pepper, and so on,” Gibbons continues.

“Do we know where the body is?” Azrael asks over the radio receiver.

“According to the records, she was cremated due to the brutality of her death,” Gibbons explains. Gibbons came across a photo of Katakana’s necklace.

“Wait a minute. She has a beautifully crafted Victorian sterling silver locket. You have to find it and burn it,” Gibbons says.

“How are we able to find this locket in this place?” Maya asks over the radio receiver. Gibbons skimmed his fingers over his keyboard, retrieving the blueprints of the Charlotte Mansion.

“There’s a safe on the second floor in the primary bedroom. That’s where you’ll find the artifact,” Gibbons explains.

Maya looks at Azrael.

“You go get the artifact, and I’ll take care of this ghost,” she says as she shoots at the White Lady again and it disappears in a wisp of smoke.

“All right, Maya, tell me how you will keep her distracted while I try to pull off the heist. On second thoughts, didn’t you say you didn’t believe in ghosts?” Azrael mocks her.

Maya stayed quiet with her gun pointing at the far end of the hallway, looking as if she would rather switch roles.

“The way I see it, this White Lady hates men, and I’ll just keep her distracted while you crack the safe and get the artifact to me before she kills me,” Azrael says in a light tone, anticipating her next move.

“Sounds like fun….it’s your funeral,” Maya says, through gritted teeth, as she heads to the second floor.

Azrael heads for the main door at the end of the hall. He enters the door, and it slams shut. The White Lady appears, and Azrael is locked in combat with her. She screams like a banshee, then whacks him across the room. He hits the wall and loses wind.

Maya finds the master bedroom. She slowly pushes open the creaky door. There’s a hole in the center of the room where she can see the dining room below. She sees the safe on the other side of the room.

“Oh, it figures…my first real job, it’s will boost my career, they say,” she says sarcastically to herself, still trying to steal her nerves. She sheathes her gun and inches around the room to get to the safe.

Gibbons downloads more information about the house and overhears Maya complaining through his radio receiver.

“Maya, when you get to the safe, look for a serial code. All these old safes have them, so I can get you the combination,” Gibbons says.

“Combination?” asked Maya over the radio receiver.

“What made you think this was going to be electronic?” Gibbons asks.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I thought this was going to be an easy peasy mission,” Maya replies over the radio.

“Only if it was that easy. Hurry! Quickly, so we can get the combination and end this case,” Gibbons says with urgency. Maya pauses for a moment, looks around, and continues to the safe.

“Right, Professor no pressure here, but I hope Azrael is doing okay?” she asks, realizing the strain on them all.

“I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. Knowing him, he probably got the ghost at his mercy,” Gibbons muses over his radio receiver.

Meanwhile, Azrael is being slapped with telekinesis by the White Lady, who flings him from one side of the room to the next, back and forth like a Ping-Pong ball, as he tries to get a foothold.

“Okay, Maya, anytime now,” Azrael growls to himself, keeping the White Lady busy.

Maya finally arrives at her destination, the antique safe. She looks over it and realizes it is a combination lock, as the Professor had said. She finds the serial number Azcel1631.

“Okay, Professor, here is the serial number you requested, Alpha, Zulu, Charily, Echo 11631. Now what is the combination of this lock?” she asks impatiently.

“Okay, Maya, here’s the combination. Listen carefully for a lock mechanism because you need to hear a click to know if it’s unlocked. Now the combination code is Left to 1, 4 times. Right to 2, 3 times. Right to 4, 1 time,” Gibbons instructed over his radio receiver. Maya fumbles a couple of times, stressing herself out.

“Damn this piece of junk!” she complains as she carefully listens for the clicks on the dial.

“Breath Maya, this is about patience,” Gibbons explains as he calms her down, speaking to her over the radio receiver.

“CLICK” the safe opens. We see Katakana’s sparkling necklace.

“Eureka! I did it,” Maya announced with subdued excitement.

“Very well, now get the artifact to Azrael,” Gibbons says over the radio receiver. Still nervous, Maya grabs the artifact and slowly returns to the door.

Azrael kicks the White Lady through the wall, and draws Brimstone, but the White Lady emerges from another side of the walls and slaps it from Azrael’s hand and throws it across the room. Azrael leaps into the air, taking his sword as a last resort, swiping at the White Lady, who disappears as he lands.

“Crafty entity, huh?” Azrael grumbles, moving cautiously about the room. He retrieve Brimstone and sheath it. The White Lady reappears, thrusting her hand into his chest choking his heart. Azrael drops to his knees, feeling the woman’s ice-cold hand clutching his heart.

“I’ll swallow your soul,” howls the White Lady in her low tone.

Maya comes running down the hallway and tries to push open the door with shoulder a few times with no success. She steps back and does a spinning back kick, breaking the door open. Her appearance comes at a dramatic moment seeing Azrael helpless on his knees struggling with pain from the grip of the White Lady.

“Azrael,” She yells.

The White Lady screams pushing Maya of her feet with the sound wave of her scream, Maya hits the wall and slumps to the floor, dazed.

Azrael gathers himself and looks the White Lady in the eyes,

“Yeshua Ligor Ikem,” Azrael says in a struggling matter.

A shockwave knocks the White Lady across the room and through the wall once again. Maya quickly to her feet and helps Azrael to his feet, passes him the amulet.

“Are you okay?” she asks with some concern.

“Get back!” Azrael commands.

The White Lady appears before them once again. He clenches the amulet in his hand; and darts his eyes at the White Lady,

“ESH” he says as his hand becomes red-hot, melting the amulet necklace.

Azrael drops to his knees, feeling an emotional empathy for the late Katakana and prays for her.

“Yahuah Eloheynu, please grant Katakana’s request, who has been mercilessly murdered for avaricious reasons and ironically been made as the scapegoat for a crime. Grant her eternal rest. Let your light shine upon her. May her soul find your mercy in your shalom. I ask in the name of your Son, Yeshua.”

Azrael rise to his feet as the White Lady stiffens. Maya’s eyes are on Azrael with confusion. The White Lady slowly drifts away and fades into nothingness.

“What has just happened?” Maya asks with a mixture of bewilderment, admiration, and apprehension.

“I prayed. Try it. It would be most helpful if you did,” Azrael says as he walks off.

Maya checks her EMF as it went quite, she slaps it a few time thinking she did something to it.

“Did I break this?” she asks herself looking over the tool.

From the corner of her eye she Azrael exiting the room, and she follows.

“I don’t understand,” she thought aloud.

Maya follows Azrael out of the house and meets with Gibbons, who is waiting for them.

“Professor, everything has become quiet, even the EMF reader. Does this mean it’s over?” she asks.

“Indeed it does. It’s amazing what the power of prayer can do, don’t you think?” Gibbons asks Maya.

She keeps quiet and follows Azrael to the van. The three pack up their equipment.

“So Maya, are you intending to stick around, or are you looking to find work elsewhere?” Azrael asks.

“In my right mind, I would normally say bye, bye. But with this new evidence of this kind of work, along with the adrenaline rush of excitement, I think I will hang out with you boys. I don’t think you could get along without me,” Maya says with mock arrogance.

Gibbons smiles and shakes her hand.

“Then welcome to your first career,” Gibbons congratulated.

Gibbons takes Azrael aside privately.

“I like her. I believe she will be a valuable asset to our cause,” Azrael says.

“We just got a call from HQ. The AI has informed us of Goblims terrorizing local campers.” Gibbons says sharing information. Azrael climbs on Spirit his motorcycle,

“I’ll deal with them if there are any problems, I’ll call,” Azrael says, riding off.

“Where is he headed?” Maya asks, walking alongside Gibbons.

“Goblin problems,” Gibbons replied.

“But to let you know, the apparition you saw is not the Lady Katakana who came back from the dead. Just as people are destined to die once, at their crossing they will face their judgment, and be put in a holding place till Yeshua’s return. But that ghost of the Nephilim entity, who masquerade the persona of Katakana has been defeated and it too has been cast into the abyss” Gibbons confidently says.

Gibbons and Maya climb back into the Dagonslayer and drive off into the early morning sunlight, with Maya processing all that she has witnessed and experienced. Whatever it is, she feels grateful for the sunlight that envelops the van before their next adventure.

BEWILDERMENT

It’s been a long night. Maya and Gibbons arrive at the Charlotte Mansion. Maya sits exhausted while Gibbons sits at his computer doing his satellite-image search.

“Professor, what are you doing?” Maya is a bit annoyed.

“Setting the satellites to search for more supernatural entities,” Gibbons says.

Gibbons turns and sees Maya lost in thought.

“Is everything alright with you, Maya?” he asks with concern.

Maya takes a deep breath, falls back into the chair, sinks comfortably, and relaxes with a sigh.

“I don’t know; my whole worldview has been shattered,” she says with disbelief.

“What do you mean?” Gibbons asks.

“I used to believe what I could see with my eyes, but in the past few months, I’ve seen ghosts, heard of witches, been exposed to super soldiers, a secret society bent on controlling the nations,” Maya concludes her thoughts.

Gibbons pours drinks for him and Maya.

“Well, Maya, as soon as you grasp that there is a supernatural existence and understand that the supernatural realm differs from ours, the laws of physics do not apply to the laws of spirituality, and that they’re two different planes, the transition will flow a whole lot smoother,” Gibbons says with compassion, handing her a drink. He takes a seat across from her.

“What does all this mean, Professor? I mean, why? I did not ask for any of this supernatural stuff. I thought it was a joke. I never believed in it, and I am still having a hard time wrapping my mind around this,” she continues to express herself.

“Maya, at one time I was like you; ambitious, hungry for knowledge, a fresh graduate out of school with dreams of grandeur. Then the realization hit me. I had a visitation with Heyl’el the father of lies, and he proclaimed that I belong to him, and I refused him; I turned my back on his kingdom. Then a year later, my mother died of cancer. But that did not stop me. I continued to search for the truth,” Gibbons

Maya gives him a look of intrigue. “And what is the truth, Professor?” she asks.

“That we are made to bring glory to Yahuah. I do know we are spiritual beings with physical bodies having an occasional spiritual experience, and not the other way around.

“And what is this glory supposed to look like? I’ve never seen it,” Maya says, sipping her drink.

“If we obey his Commandments, follow his ordinances and proclaim his name to the nations, we become the light of his glory. Remember this Maya, you are fearfully and wonderfully made, and Yah, the Creator, formed humanity for himself so that we might declare His praise to all creation.” Gibbons declares.

As Maya falls asleep during Gibbon’s lecture, he chuckles.

“Yeah, sleep on and sleep. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Sweet dreams Maya,” Gibbons says as he looks back at the wall monitor.

The door opens, and the jingle of the bells caught Gibbons’ attention. He walks into the next room as he sees a postman with a strange box.

“Are you Professor Gibbons?” asked the postal man.

“Why yes, how may I help you?” Gibbons asked in a jest. The postman rolls his eyes. He’s not in a happy mood.

“I have a package for you please sign here please,” says the postman with an attitude.

“Yeah, sure,” Gibbons sighs with a smile, signing his name on the electronic pad.

“Thank you,″ says Gibbons, as he returns the electronic pad to the postman.

“You’re welcome, have a good day”, says the postman, walking out the door.

“Too loo doo, don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Gibbons jokes while opening the box.

“Yeah, whatever, bub,” says the postman as he leaves the premises.

Gibbons laughs as his eyes are fixed on the glowing Sigil Stone in the box, with a card under it. He pulls it out, and it reads, “Yeah whatever.”

“Gibbons, the proposed power source needs evidence. Please assist. Sign Trish.” He picks up the stone; it pulsates with power, and he sees strange markings on it.

“Trish, what did you get yourself into this time?” he asks with mock exasperation. He glanced at the stone one last time.

“Power source, intriguing,” he smiles as he walks out to his laboratory.

SIGIL STONE

Inside the laboratory, Gibbons is dressed in his lab coat and goggles. He’s shooting the Sigil stone with lasers to find the source of energy. The heat of the lasers causes the stone to glow with an aura. Like a strobe light, the rays bounce around the room. Gibbons is watching and adjusting knobs while observing the power levels.

The effects change, and the room becomes distorted and slightly out of phase. Gibbons stops the experiment, takes off his goggles, and sighs with frustration. Unaware, he releases an ancient spirit who takes on the form of a half-woman, half-spider, and a centaur-like creature. Her woman-half appearance is a beautiful elf-like creature with dark skin, white hair, and gold armor, while her lower frame appears as a substantial demonic spider.

The portal slightly distorts the lab’s monetary stability, so it quickly scurries into a dark area. Gibbons is unaware of the effect, and the intruder sees some effects with the sigil stone

“Come…come on…come on, yeah, better than I expended,” Gibbons says as he examines it.

Slowly, the creature creeps up behind Gibbons. He is focused on the stone while using his magnifying eyepiece.

“Absolutely no change whatsoever,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Hum, what could be causing the power source to be drained?” he asks himself, shaking his head.

He walks over to his laser machine. Shadows cast by the creature are visible above him.

“What the hell is going on?” he screamed, startled.

He jumps out of the way of the creature, who drops in on him.

“Human,”

Lolth screeches with hisses as she grabs Gibbons lifting him in the air with one hand.

“Madam, who are you?” Gibbons calmly asks inquisitively.

“Meddler,” Lolth yells, throwing Gibbons against the wall, and pinning him with a blast of her webs.

“I am Lolth, Queen of Spiders. You pulled me from my dimension portal; why?” she demands to know.

“I assure you, madam, I did not pull you from your dimension, and so why are you here?” Gibbons argued.

She advances, coming face to face with Gibbons. “Son of Adam you intrigue me,” she says grabbing Gibbons off the wall.

“Such a silly human,” she growls.

Then she drops him, pinning him to the floor with one of her spider legs.

She looks around looking for something.

“My power stone, where is it?” Give me my power stone?” she screams. Gibbons hides the sigil stone under his leg.

“It must be Azrael, and I think he has it?” Gibbons shouts, getting Maya’s attention.

Maya walks into the room. “Am I seeing things?”

Maya freezes with fright when she sees the creature. It turns her eyes on her.

“I will stop at nothing to get my power stone,” she shrieks. Maya takes her gun and shoots.

“Let me kill you” she yells, hitting the spider queen.

“What monster is that?” she asks as she unloads her magazine. Lolth screams as she is pushed back by the force of the blast.

“Curse you, child!” Lolth yelled.

Maya is slammed against the wall with a blast of Lolth’s webs. She drops her gun, struggling to free herself from the sticky webs.

“This can’t be happening; what the hell is this stuff?”

Lolth picks Gibbons up and holds him out like a trophy

“If I cannot find it here, Azrael will have to come to us,” she says.

Gibbons’ eyebrows were raised.

“Oh, boy,” he says, feeling the pressure of conflict.

“Oh, don’t worry, human, this protector of yours won’t do a thing while you’re in my possession,” she says as she spins Gibbons into a cocoon.

She looks at Maya, who is still struggling to free herself.

“You find this, Azrael. Bring me my power stone, or this helpless human will die,” Lolth threatened.

With that, the Spider Queen leaps onto the ceiling and scurries away. Maya pulls her knife from her belt and cuts herself free from the webs. She sees the power stone where Gibbons was seated earlier. She picks up the stone, pondering it.

“Why wouldn’t he give this to that creature?” she asks.

She briskly walks out the door; grabbing the keys to the Dagonslayer, she jumps into the van, turns on Azrael’s GPS, and peels out of the back alley like a bat of hell.

GOBLIN HUNT

Fresh snow falls over the wet terrain in the deep northern forest of Jabbok during a cold winter night. Azrael is hunting for two goblins who have murdered campers in the region.

“The trail ends here. Where would Tweedledee and Tweedledum be?” Azrael asks himself, scanning the forest. He stands to attention as he hears twigs snapping and trees bending. He unsheathed Brimstone.

”Don’t bother looking for the humans, they have been disposed of,” says a low-sounding voice, coming from the thicket of the forest.

A large goblin and a small goblin holding their weapons as they circle Azrael.

“Ahhhh, you must be Tweedledum, and that must mean your Tweedledee. Who is following behind?” Azrael questions as he sheaths his gun.

“We are the lords of the forest, and you are trespassing, human,” proclaims the tall Goblin. The Warrior of Elohim walked up to the tall creature who stood three feet taller than him.

“It is you who are subjected to my authority, for I am a Prince of Shamayim, I am the word of Yeshua, I am the sword of Yahuah, and authority has been given unto me to trample down the seeds of darkness Nephilim,” Azrael declares.

The goblins guffaw as they slowly encircle him.

“You are an amusing meat pie; we’re looking forward to crushing your bones and devouring your flesh. Your kind is so delicious.” boasts the smaller goblin, who continues laughing like a hyena.

The Warrior of Elohim stood there with no fear. He looked intently at both of the goblins, waiting for their next move.

“This day the battle belongs to Yahuah” Azrael declares.

The tall goblin flexes his muscles in irritation as he growls at Azrael.

“Make your move meat pie!”

The two goblins glance at each other, confused why this human is not running.

“I think something is wrong with his brain?” asked the small goblin licking his chops.

The tall goblin looked down at Azrael. “Or maybe he’s just waiting for lunch,” mocked the tall goblin.

Azrael laughed.

“You know you two are hilarious; don’t you know the darker the night, the brighter the light, and the Word of Yahuah will overpower you?”

The two stared at each other for a moment and then looked at Azrael, not understanding him.

“Now, hear the word of Yahuah, you who have brought destruction and death to His image on these lands. There is no shalom nor forgiveness for you; a severe sentence has been levied against your heads,” Azrael proclaims.

The Goblins both scratched their heads with confusing looks on their faces.

“Well? Don’t just stand there. Do something imbecile!” Azrael provokes.

The tall goblin feels insulted and attacks Azrael.

“Bone-crushing time!” shouted the tall goblin.

The tall goblin battles with Azrael, as the smaller one runs in circles, trying to find an opening without injuring his comrade. Azrael spins around, striking the tall goblin in the head with the hilt of his sword.

“Ahhhh, try this on for size meathead!” he shouted back.

The tall goblin stammered backwards, holding his head.

“Oh, not the head,” it complains.

Azrael sees the small Goblin from the corner of his eye coming in for the kill. He runs up to the tall Goblin pushing off its chest and kicking the small Goblin down from the force of his kick. The Goblins stumble about, trying desperately to keep their balance.

Goblins fumble with their heavy weapons, swinging at the Warrior of Elohim who maneuvers through their chaotic swings, missing and their weapons falling deeply into the ground. They struggle to free them, cursing under their breath. Azrael laughed, watching the two struggle to pull their weapons free.

“You know Yahuah is laughing at you, for he sees that today is your day to die.”

The small goblin pulls his weapon from the ground and throws it at Azrael.

“Laugh at this meat pie!”

The Goblin’s weapon flies over Azrael as he dodges the singing blade that cuts down a tree from the force of the weapon. The tall Goblin pulls his weapon from the ground and swings at Azrael, missing him.

“Hold still so I can cut you,” the goblin growled.

Azrael drops to the ground, knocking the tall goblin off his feet with a sweep kick. The demon falls flat on his face and the small goblin laughs maniacally. As the tall goblin roars in command, he is decapitated by Azrael’s blade, along with his right arm. The small goblin laughed with disbelief, Azrael leapt at it, slicing its belly open with his elbow blade, spinning and leaping into the air decapitating it. The body of the demon thuds like a fallen tree before his feet.

“There’s got to be an easier way to kill these creatures,” Azrael grumbles under his breath, sheathing his sword.

Maya comes to a screeching halt; Azrael turns and sees the Dagonslayer. She jumps out of the vehicle.

“Azrael,” she shouted.

“What’s wrong, Maya?” he asked.

Maya sprints to Azrael. “It’s...its Gibbons,” she says.

Azrael inquired with concern. She pauses and gasps at the foul stench of the creatures slain before Azrael’s feet.

“Oh, goodness, what the hell is that horrible smell?” she says, gagging from the odor.

“That would be goby juice,” Azrael says to lighten the mood.

Maya freaked out seeing the two goblins. “What are goblins?” “What are they?” she asks, pointing at the dead creatures.”

You see these creatures before us. They are goblins, Maya nasty demons.

Maya glances at the dead creatures then back at Azrael.

“You’re a strange one Azrael,” she sighs.

Azrael adjusted his hat. “Whatever Maya, focus on what has happened to Gibbons, please,” Azrael directed her focus.

Maya, confused, is trying to recall her thoughts with a bit of anxiety.

“There was this huge spider-like creature. I shot it and it took Gibbons looking for this,” she says, showing Azrael the sigil stone.

Azrael takes the sigil stone and examines it. “The creature called it her power stone,” she continues. Azrael looks at it, recognizing it.

“A Sigil stone of Arachne. What was Gibbons thinking about knowing the dangers of these magic tomes?” he asks himself.

“What is a Sigil Stone or a Tome?” Maya asks.

“A Sigil Stone is a magical object that opens portals between our physical realm and the spirit realm. A power source energizes the creatures you see in the supernatural realm.

Gibbons must have unlocked it accidentally, thinking it was a new power source to harness; instead, it backfired on him,” Azrael explains. Maya’s radio crackles. Gibbons’ voice can be heard.

“Maya... are you there?”

Maya answers with her walkie-talkie. Azrael listens in closely and she feels uncomfortable as the two of them come into kissing range, but she concentrates on Gibbons’ voice over the radio.

“Professor, where are you?” she asks.

Gibbons responds weakly to the radio receiver.

“I’m in some underground cave,” he says.

Maya looked at Azrael with deep concern for Gibbons’ welfare.

“Gibbons, what’s your status? Are you alright?” Maya asks.

“No, I am not okay, not until you get me out of here. There are three creatures guarding me.” Gibbons explains.

His voice breaks up through the radio receiver. Azrael takes the radio from Maya’s hand.

“Gibbons, it’s me, Azrael. I will find a way to get you out of there,” He says sternly.

Maya looked at him with a look of worry when they could not hear anything on the receiving end.

Inside the spider queen’s lair, Gibbons is webbed up to his neck, hanging upside down struggling to free himself. Three Arachne centurion guards patrol the area. Lolth drops in, taking out Gibbons’ radio earpiece. She smiles at Gibbons before speaking into the device.

“Azrael, you don’t give orders here; you want to see your beloved friend alive. Bring me my power stone,” Lolth demands.

“What’s your location?” Azrael asks over the radio receiver.

“Dragon Tail Mountain, you have till moonrise; or else bye, bye to your... friend,” Lolth says as she crushes the radio receiver.

She looks at Gibbons as she twirls her web around his head.

“I hope that your friends don’t be late!” she threatens, then scurries away.

All that could be heard were the muffled sounds of Gibbons’ cries as he struggled to free himself.

Azrael glances at the sky.

“We have three hours; it will take an hour to get to Dragon Tail Mountain,” he explains as he hands Maya the sigil stone.

“What do you want me to do with this?” she asks.

“It’s insurance for Gibbons’ safety,” he says as he climbs onto Spirit.

“Maya patch me into your GPS module, just in case something happens. Spirit will automatically lock onto yours, so if anything happens we’ll be able to reconnect,” he explains.

Maya complies and patches her GPS through her watch to Spirit’s computer console.

“Done,” she says.

She moves to the Dagonslayer and puts the stone inside her jacket pocket, and asks a question to relieve her tension.

“Azrael, why do you call your motorcycle Spirit? That’s just so odd,” she says as she climbs into the van.

“Yeah, you’re right, Maya. Just like the people who call their van a Dagonslayer. That’s just strange, don’t you think?” he rebutted as he rode off.

Maya smiles, and races off, following Azrael.

As a bold statement about the slowness of time, Dragon Tail Mountain is grounded in the reality of the ever-present moment. On the petrified body of the mountain are thin, jagged ridges that resemble the tail of a dragon. In fact, the mountain itself was a dragon in the first age before the deluge.

The skull of the dragon is seen embedded. Its jaw is the cave entrance where Gibbons is held hostage. Azrael and Maya arrive. He dismounts his motorcycle, and Maya parks near the lake. Maya feels a bit discouraged as she climbs out of the van. She sees the cave entrance, but a small lake stands before them.

“How are we supposed to get over to the other side of that lake?” she asks.

Azrael walks to the edge of the lake, scoping out the distance of the lake.

Prepare; I’ll get us over there. Have a pinch of faith Maya,” he says confidently.

Maya gears up, packing a flashlight, gun, and knife. She checks her jacket and pulls out the sigil stone; she smiles as she stuffs it back into her jacket. She moves toward the lake.

“Are you ready, Maya?” Azrael asks, turning to her, exuding a sense of malevolence.

He sees another goblin charging. Maya sees Azrael’s expression and she looks over her shoulder.

“What the hell is that?” she screamed.

“Get down,” Azrael yelled.

In one fluid motion, Azrael unsheathes his sword, jumps over Maya, cuts off the goblin’s head, and lands before the creature and sheathes its sword. He examines it. Maya looks on horrified and slowly steps up next to Azrael.

“What the hell was that?” she asks in fright.

“That Maya was a live Goblin, now it’s dead,” he says.

“Are you sure it’s dead?” she asks.

Azrael looks at the beast and then back at her with a smile.

“If you don’t believe me, check it out. After all, you’re a forensics expert. You tell me,” he says with humor.

Maya stayed away from the creature as she looked at it.

“As a forensics officer, we’re investigating humans if there has been foul play, not monsters,” she retorted defensively.

Azrael glances at the dead demon, then back at Maya.

“Fair enough,” he said.

“I am getting ready to grab hold of you and jump over that lake,” Azrael says.

“You’re not touching me; I will find another way around,” Maya says.

She surveys the area and sees a boat. She briskly moves to where the boat is partially anchored in and out of the water.

“A sunken boat,” she complained.

Azrael slowly walks up from behind,

“Don’t you think I would have told you about a boat if there was one?” Azrael asks

“There’s gotta be another way around?” Maya wondered aloud.

Azrael looks at the sky, and he sees the moon as the sky transitions to dusk.

“We have no time for this,” Azrael says, grabbing Maya into his arms.

She tried to push him away.

“What are you doing? Get your hands off of me!” she argues, feeling uncomfortable.

“Oh, get over yourself, Maya, and stop grumbling,” he says gently, squeezing her in his arms.

“Hold on,” he said.

Azrael runs and leaps into the air. Maya screams like she’s on a roller coaster. They landed safely on the other side. He lets her go. Maya is in disbelief at what just happened, but she pulls herself together and remains calm.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she says, catching her breath.

Azrael glances at Maya,

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern.

Maya darts her eyes back at him,

“Do I look alright?” she questions him with hostility.

“I take that as a no, forgive me, but we need to get going,” he says sternly as he walks to the cave.

“Hey, big guy, what’s the game plan?” Maya questions aloud.

Azrael stops,

“As he walks into the cave, he says with authority, “We hunt, we kill this demon, and we save Gibbons.”

Maya hesitates momentarily, takes a deep breath and faces her fears, and follows Azrael into the darkness.

SPIDER LAYER

The dripping sound of water from the stalactites is a dark and dreary place where the only sound can be heard.

The air is thick with humidity, and it isn’t easy to breathe. The darkness is so thick that it’s impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you.

Maya pulls out her gun, cocks it, and follows him into the cave.

The light of Maya’s flashlight illuminates the cave walls, allowing one unfamiliar with its terrain to imagine the most horrific scenarios.

Azrael moves ahead. His body produces a soft light that lights their path in the darkness. Maya follows him, turning her flashlight off.

“Azrael, why are you glowing? People do not glow in the dark, do they?” she asks.

Azrael stops and slightly turns his head toward her with a smile.

“Yahuah’s word, Yeshua, is a lamp at my feet. He is the Torah that lights my path,” he explains.

“Whatever, Edison would truly roll over in his grave to see this miracle,” Maya says.

Azrael continues to move forward, and Maya follows.

“Keep up, Maya; time is of the essence,” Azrael commands.

“Slow down, Big guy, I don’t have your magical powers; I am as blind as a bat in the belly of this beast,” Maya complains.

They journey deep into the unknown. Their noses curl from the foul stench of death.

Maya whispers, “Hopefully, that’s not the Professor,” she remarks with concern.

“It’s not him,” Azrael insists.

They come around the bend of rocks and are surprised that the area is light, with an eerie soft glow from the torches hanging on the cave walls.

One of these spider guards sits in its web, high up in the ceiling. They stop. “Must be one of the guards Gibbons mentioned,” Azrael concludes.

Maya takes off and shoots the Arachnid dead. ”Nice shot, but don’t run off like that!” Azrael scolds with compliments.

They continue moving forward, and they see two more Arachnid Centurion spider guards who drop in. “These are her guards. They don’t want us to go beyond that border that they are blocking,” Azrael says.

Arachnid Centurion spider guards roar and lunge at our heroes.

“Get ready,” Azrael says as they prepare for battle.

“I hate spiders,” Maya yells in her native language as she fires at the Arachnid Centurion spider jumping at her. “I will kill you” Maya yelled.

Arachnid Centurion spider is over her, and she blasts it away just as it slaps her down.

The first arachnid jumps at Maya. She pulls the trigger and the demon drops dead, knocking Maya off her feet. The second Arachnid spits its webs, it hits Azrael. He is flung across the cave. Stuck in the cave wall, he drops his sword, cuts through the web substance with his elbow blades, and leaps back into action, popping twin claws from his bracers. This kills the creature.

“Die, you eight-legged freak,” he yelled.

Azrael stands over the Arachnid beast as it dissolves into a liquid goop; he squats and observes the effects as he picks up his sword and sheaths it.

“The way of the wicked is like darkness, and the evil cannot comprehend why they fall while the righteous stand.”

Maya climbs to her feet as Azrael stands and retracts his claws.

“Hey Maya, are you alright?” he asks.

“Of course I am okay, don’t treat me like a little girl who needs her daddy to hold her hand!” she barks back.

Azrael shakes his head and chuckles.

“Whatever you say,” he sarcastically responded.

She continues murmuring as they enter the lair of the Spider Queen: a cool, damp cavern with stalactites and stalagmites decorating the area. It has high ceilings blanketed with webs; wooden torches hanging from the smooth walls flicker light.

There are numerous web-covered bones in the corners of the cave, and the treasures they carry are scattered throughout the ground.

Gibbons is cocooned, hanging upside down in the cavern’s center as he struggles to free himself.

At the mouth of the cavern, Azrael and Maya cut their way through the webs that barricaded the cavern entrance. They enter and see Gibbons, then duck behind rocks to survey the area.

“Maya, how accurate is your aim?” Azrael asks.

“Why do you ask?” she responds.

“I want you to shoot down that cocoon; I’ll catch Gibbons,” he commands.

Like the challenge, Maya agrees.

“Oh, okay,” she says, aiming.

Azrael sneaks under Gibbons, giving Maya the chance to shoot. She takes the shot, hits the web stem, and releases the cocoon. Azrael catches Gibbons and rips off the webs from his face so he can breathe.

“Are you all right?” he asked Gibbons.

“I will be as soon as you get this cocoon off me,” Gibbons grumbles.

Maya steps in, taking a knee, unsheathing her knife, and cutting the cocoon.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Professor,” she says with relief.

Gibbons glances at Maya with a smile, relieved. “Hello Maya; finally, I am glad you’re here; at least I am not going to end up like a meal looking like these other victims,” he quips.

Azrael hears Lolth scurrying on the ceiling. He gives him a stern look.

“Maya, give me the sigil stone,” Azrael said.

She pulls it out of her pocket and tosses it at Azrael, who caught it.

“Thanks, now you and Gibbons get out of here; I’ll distract this Spider Queen with the stone,” he commands as he steps forward towards the Spider Queen as she drops in.

“Hey beautiful, looking for this?” Azrael says, showing the Arachnid Queen the Sigil stone.

She instinctively approaches him, hissing and growling.

“Give me back my power stone,” she demands.

Azrael holds out his hand with authority.

“Oh, you mean this stone? What is your motive, I wonder?” he questions.

Azrael flips the stone like one flips a quarter. Lolth is skittish as she tries to approach the Warrior of Elohim.

“It’s the key to sending me back to my realm,” Lolth says.

Azrael flips the stone again, as if flipping a coin, taunting her.

“Or maybe you’ll open up a portal for your kind to enter into our dimension,” he accuses.

The two slowly move about in a circular motion, eyes locked, ready for their opponent to attack. Gibbons and Maya are in the clear as they watch Azrael and Lolth in a standoff. Gibbons has a look of worry.

“I am afraid that this Spider Queen will kill everybody if she gets her hands on that stone,” Gibbons says to Maya.

“So the source of her power lies in the sigil stone?” Maya realizes.

“Yes, that is what the sigil stone is for,” Gibbons says.

He gives himself a palm slap realizing what he did.

“I am such a fool; I should have known, but no, I was too impetuous to find a reliable power source; I should’ve known that this sigil stone opens a portal,” he regrets.

“Professor, we all make mistakes, so be easy on yourself,” Maya encouraged.

Gibbons glanced at her.

“Alright, Maya, here is a chance to get out of here,” Gibbons says, grabbing Maya by the arm and leaving the scene.

Azrael sees Maya and Gibbons leave the area from his vantage point; his attention is shifted as Lolth threatens.

“Give me back my power stone,” she hissed.

“Ah, no, can do; the way I see it, you want this sigil stone to open a portal from your realm to invade my territory,” Azrael refused.

It’s a shame that humanity wastes its gifts; the Highest sent his only son to redeem you, but you squander it, and I shall avenge humanity’s transgression,” she declared.

“Not on my watch,” Azrael responded in his defense.

“Damn you self-righteous Pharisee; I am determined to tear you apart; I will crush your nations and feast on the flesh and bones of the human race!” Lolth hisses and growls.

Lolth leaps into the air to attack Azrael; like the gunslingers of the West, he draws brimstone and fires, hitting Lolth between the eyes.

“Yeshua Ligor Ikem, Lolth”

Lolth is blown back and hits the ground; she slowly disintegrates as Brimstone absorbs her essence and recharges itself. Azrael watches the demon fade to dust.

“Yes, the human heart is indeed deceitful, but there is hope when we repent from our wicked ways; our salvation Yeshua has paved the way to return to Yahuah if we observe his commandments,” Azrael says, sheathing his weapon.

GARGOYLES

Azrael followed the way out where Gibbons and Maya exited. Maya, with her flashlight, walks side-by-side with Gibbons down into the deep; Maya’s mind is elsewhere. Gibbons sees her countenance,

“Maya, is everything alright? You look a tad distracted; what’s wrong?” Gibbons asks.

“It’s Azrael. Do you think he’ll be okay by himself?” she asks.

“I wouldn’t worry about him; he’s protected, you know,” Gibbons says confidently, continuing their walk into the dark.

They cleared the next chamber. They entered a huge round room through a tunnel with Aztec hieroglyphs written on the walls. Four gargoyles stand in their stone position around the inner circle as if they are guarding something.

“WOW! Would you look at this?” Gibbons exclaimed, taking Maya’s flashlight from her hand.

“Hey, Professor, what are you doing?” Maya asks with a bit of frustration.

Gibbons flashes the light on the walls: he’s mesmerized by Aztec hieroglyphs and is engrossed in their intricate details.

“Oh, I am just shedding a little light on the subject,” Gibbons responded.

He slowly moves his fingers over the texts.

“This is Zin-Carla language. Gibbons says excitedly, “It’s the right to bring back the dead through ritual.

“So I take it that these Aztec people worship this Spider Queen?” Maya questions.

“I believe so, Maya, but I am not sure until I do further research,” he says, taking notice of a strange symbol on the wall.

“What is it?” he asked himself.

He moves his hand over the hieroglyphs touching a symbol that unwittingly releases a switch, a stone click echoing the chamber, “Ooops,” Gibbons says with embracement.

“Ooops, what do you mean by Ooops?” Maya asks, feeling unnerved.

A door opens from the shadows, uncaging a Wraith. The spectrum creature passes Maya, and her hair stands on end as it hides. Maya is unsettled.

“Professor, what did you just do?” she asks in a low tone.

Gibbons turns to Maya, “Ummm, I think I accidentally triggered a switch?”

“You need to stop touching things you don’t understand.” Maya scolds Gibbons.

Gibbons replies with concern, flashing a light on a gargoyle, startling him for a moment.

“Look, Maya, it’s a gargoyle,” he says, enthralled. Maya looks at Gibbons with no enthusiasm,

“Wow, strange images of monsters. Come on, Professor, aren’t you paying attention to what I am saying?” She raises her voice, agitated.

“Don’t touch anything!” She concludes.

Gibbons asks with an odd expression, “Me, what did I do?”

“You need to stop touching things you don’t understand. First, you released the Spider Queen; now, we do not know what it is, but I felt a ghost sweep past my face, and my hair is standing on ends,” Maya confesses with a hint of impatience.

“Oh, I am truly sorry, Maya; my curiosity got the best of me,” Gibbons confesses.

Maya sees the stone statues move.

“Professor, are these statues supposed to do that?” she asks nervously.

Gibbons looks at Maya, confused, “Supposed to do what?” he asks.

Maya points at the gargoyle as the crackling of stone can be heard; Gibbons flashes the light on the gargoyle as it breaks free, and it howls and growls as the other three gargoyles burst free from their slumber, doing the same thing.

“Ahhhh…no… they’re not supposed to do that,” he expresses with fear.

The gargoyles howl and growl, shaking their heads.

“Well, this is not right. I think we just woke up the Aztec Guardians,” Gibbons realizes.

“We? No, you!” Maya accuses.

Fear and embrace fill Gibbons’ thoughts as he sees the gargoyles free from their prison.

“Ahhhh…hmmm…we are supposed to…Ummm…run!” Gibbons shouts as he runs past Maya.

Maya is left alone with the approaching gargoyle. She slowly backs away, fumbling to unlock her safety strap from her gun holster,

She says, “Nice gargoyle, nice monster, get back to guarding,” she says, trying to calm the beast.

The gargoyle towers over Maya and roars. Maya spins around and runs off, and the beast follows in pursuit. Maya runs past Gibbons.

“Professor,” she yelled, pulling out her gun and shooting at the gargoyle.

Gibbons throws some rocks at the gargoyles they bounce off,

“This is not right,″ he says,” dogging the pouncing gargoyle.

He jumps back to his feet and follows Maya, who’s having no success with her marksmanship.

Trying to avoid the Aztec guardians, they run around the chambers. Maya stops, takes a stand, changes her magazines, and fires at the dogging gargoyles.

Gibbons, out of breath, hides behind Maya, “Why are you stopping?” he asks with concern.

“I am tired of running,” she says, shooting at the beasts.

Maya, changing another magazine, the gargoyles slowly approached them. “How do we kill these things?” she asks, shooting off a few shots as they leap around like cats.

“Silver,” Gibbons says.

“Oh, that’s fantastic; by any chance, do you have any silver with you, Professor?” she asks sarcastically, shooting at the gargoyles.

“Yes, but it’s not with us,” Gibbons says with embarrassment.

Maya fires at the gargoyles, missing her targets like a poor marksman.

“Damn, these things are swift. I can’t believe I will say this, but I wish Azrael were here,” Maya says as she continues shooting desperately.

Azrael walks in, hearing her words,

“Did someone call my name?” he exclaimed, seeing the commotion.

“It’s about damn time you showed up,” Gibbons yells.

“Maya, Gibbons, are you in need of some help?” Azrael asks amusingly.

“This is not the time for jokes!” Maya yells back as she continues shooting.

Azrael’s finger whistles, getting the attention of the gargoyles, “Come and get me!” he yells.

The gargoyles fix their gaze on Azrael as Maya and Gibbons slowly duck down; the beasts leap over them as they attack Azrael.

Maya and Gibbons back off as Azrael fights tooth and nail, smashing the gargoyles into dust using his fist, elbows, and knees. The dust settles as Maya and Gibbons greet him.

“Oh, thank you for showing up at such an impeccable moment. You didn’t forget about us, did you?” she asks sarcastically.

“Truth be known, I thought you had taken care of that?” Azrael sarcastically replies.

“Oh, I see. Did you have fun with the gargoyles?” Gibbons jokes.

“Fun, I don’t remember that in the job description,” Azrael says, dusting himself off.

“Oh, I see you’ve been cleaning up after work,” Gibbons jokes, trying to ease the tension between him and Maya.

Azrael darts his eyes at Gibbons with annoyance, “Funny, Gibbons, funny.”

Azrael’s attention shifts as he sees a Wraith lurking around then passes through the next chamber. He walks off.

“Excuse me, guys, I’ve got to clear the air,” he said.

Maya sheaths her gun as she sees Gibbons picking up a crossbow from a skeleton warrior.

“Collecting souvenirs now, Professor?” she asks, still a little upset at the older man’s troublesome curiosity.

Gibbons nods with a smile, taking the bolts from the hand of the dead.

It’s been that way since day one, Maya, but let’s get out of here before we become part of it,” he says with a shudder.

WRAITH

Azrael enters the chamber where the Wraith has ducked into. He sees the creature, which quickly fades and disappears; all he sees are dripping stalactites over a pool of water.

“So that’s how you’re planning to find a way to escape your prison; I can’t allow you to do that,” he says to himself.

Azrael ponders how to kill this demon.

“What is a suitable bait for a Wraith, I wonder?” he questions himself.

He peeks his head out and sees Maya and Gibbons and cracks a smile,

“I need lots of fear; Ahhhh, Maya, Gibbons, and you’re perfect, forgive me guys, I got to do my job. This Wraith cannot leave,” he says, exiting the chamber.

Gibbons and Maya take another direction up a long tunnel back to where they came from. Azrael catches up and passes them by,

Maya asks hesitantly, “What’s his hurry?“.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe we missed something,” Gibbons says.

Azrael stops and turns to say, “There is something we didn’t see...” Azrael blanks out.

When his eyes turn bright white and glow with power, immobilizing him. Gibbons looks on with concern as Maya waves her hand in front of his eyes, snapping her fingers.

“Hello, Azrael. Are you okay? Can you see?” Maya asks.

Maya glances at Gibbons. “Has he gone blind? What’s going on?” she questions.

Gibbons steps up to Azrael to get a better look.

“I don’t know, and it’s the first time I have seen this,” Gibbons says.

Gibbons takes a deep breath and smiles,

“One way to find out if he’s faking or not. Hey, wake up!” Gibbons sternly says as he says, giving his brother a solid right hook across the jaw.

Azrael doesn’t flinch. Instead, Gibbons injures his fist,

“Ouch, that hurt!” he says, shaking his hand.

“Oh, no, no, he’s not faking,” Gibbons concurs.

Meanwhile, Azrael’s spirit eye travels through time and space. He stands in an old shack with tattered sheets; the wind blows, rustling against those sheets. Like in a dream, he moves slowly about the area, coming to an opening.

He sees an Asherah pole of an Aztec goddess, looking like a naked horned beast planted in a floor of human skulls; standing before the Asherah pole is the goddess of the Aztecs, garbed in turquoise and gold.

Her eyes light up with flames; her beauty suddenly crumbles to dust, revealing the Wraith cloaked in a dark hooded robe that is tattered from the age of time. In her language, she cures him.

Azrael holds his hand out. “Yeshua Ligor Ikem’,” he says. The wraith explodes along with the Asherah pole.

He awakes, seeing Maya snapping her fingers before his eyes.

“Wake up,” she sternly commands.

“Maya, I am okay, I am alright, it’s okay,” he calmly said.

“Az, what just happened?” Gibbons asks.

“This Wraith is some ancient goddess of the Aztecs, and she was freed from her prison,” Azrael says.

Gibbons feels responsible.

“Okay, I made a mistake, but I am not talking about that; what’s up with the eyes?” he says.

Azrael looks at the two and realizes his new skill.

“I have a new ability; I can see the past, present, and future. I think I will call it Spirit Eye,” Azrael says.

Suddenly they can hear the Wraith’s cry.

“Ummm, that’s all fine and dandy, but shouldn’t we leave right now?” Gibbons questions with fear.

“I second that, considering the latest construct of difficulties we have faced thus far,” Maya expresses.

“Don’t be anxious about anything, but in all situations, give thanks to Yahuah,” Azrael says as he continues walking.

Maya and Gibbons felt his rebuke and stayed quiet as they followed close behind.

“I have a strange feeling there is more to come,” Maya replies.

“What more do you expect from Maya?” Azrael says as they continue up the tunnel. They continue to hear the faint hollow moan of the Wraith.

“Yes, it’s Murphy’s law. What go wrong will always can go awry, Gibbons says.

“My friends, don’t be anxious about anything, but do it with all your heart and don’t rely on your understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Yahuah, and he will direct our paths,” Azrael adds.

Maya and Gibbons stop, look at each other, and shrug their shoulders; they look at him and keep quiet. A slight breeze moves past them. Azrael and his fellowship continue on their

“Is it me, or did I see a shadow move?” Maya asks with a sense of anxiety.

“Yes, Maya, you saw correctly, for I saw it too,” Azrael reassured calmly.

“Seems to me that this lonely solitary ghost needs company, and it doesn’t want to let us go,” Gibbons says, feigning concern for his fears.

“I don’t care about the psychological needs of this demented Wraith,” Azrael boldly said. Maya huddles close between Gibbons and Azrael.

“Then what are you concerned about?” Maya asks.

Azrael darts a wary eye toward her.

“I am concerned about my need for confrontation,” he explains.

Maya pulls her gun; Gibbons draws his newly acquired bow. The tunnel opens up to an enormous cave.

“Oh, no, here we go!” Gibbons says, gripping his weapon.

The three see a land bridge no more prominent than five feet wide. Azrael is the first to move in. Maya and Gibbons closely followed over the narrow bridge. They are enveloped in a sea of darkness; Azrael is the only light that illuminates them. Halfway across the bridge, Maya stares into the abyss. She is drawn to its hollow mysteries and slowly makes her way to the edge.

“I wonder how deep this pit is?” she questions herself.

Azrael turns, waking her from her trance, “Maya, eyes on me, walk with me. Don’t look into the abyss.”

“Oh, okay,” she says.

Maya shakes her head, waking herself from the sleepiness of her eyes, and continues to follow. The cries of the Wraith grow louder as they draw close to the edge of darkness. They come to an end, and the bridge is broken; they leap over into the chamber one by one. They can hear the sound of the eerie cry close in proximity; Maya’s and Gibbons’ hairs stand on end, seeing the Wraith for what it is.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Maya complains.

“It’s a Wraith, a specter?” Gibbons realizes.

Maya looks concerned,”

“What exactly are we expecting?” she questions.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Gibbons says.

“Do not fear Maya,” Azrael says.

“I am frightened out of my mind,” she says, warming up to Azrael.

They see the Wraith charging from the opposite direction. Azrael gently pushes Maya aside.

“Excuse me, Maya,” he calmly says, leaping into action with the Wraith.

The Wraith throws Azrael across the cave and attacks Gibbons, knocking him off his feet and dragging him off. Maya screams, shooting at the creature, but the bullets have no effect.

Azrael leaps back into action, attacking the creature and saving Gibbons. The wraith shrieks and vanishes. Maya helps Gibbons stand up. Azrael steps forward as the Wraith appears again, and the two battle it in hand-to-hand combat. The Warrior of Elohim turns in a circular motion, slicing the entity down with his elbow blades. The Wraith’s painful shriek of death is heard as it incinerates.

Gibbons and Maya cover their ears against the awful sound. They look up with relief, seeing the creature is dead and gone. Maya realizes that she is the bait. She darts her eyes at Azrael.

“You knew it would come after us,” Maya growled.

“Your assessment is correct, Maya. The amount of fear you and Gibbons produced was the bait I needed,” he reveals.

Are you saying you used us for a kill?” Maya yells.

Azrael looks at Gibbons, and he feels a bit embarrassed.

“So all you did was use our fear, and presto, instant Wraith assault,” Gibbons says.

Maya stepped up to Azrael.

“Tell me, is it safe to leave this cave?” Maya demanded an answer.

“Yes, Maya, it’s safe to leave now,” Azrael answers.

“Good, I am out of here,” Maya says as she slaps Azrael across his face. He stands there, taking it as she glances at Gibbons.

“Come on, Professor, let’s get out of here before he uses us for shark bait,” she sarcastically says as she passes Azrael. Gibbons cracks a smile, and glances at Azrael.

“Don’t worry; I know why you did what you had to do. But I think she’s warming up to you,” he says as he follows Maya.

“Yep, I think so,” he replies as he leaves the darkness.

HERCULES

The desert terrain consists of a small forest filled with dry trees, mountain ranges, and caves. Currently, a second military squad is on patrol in the area, looking for the missing team that was reported missing a few days ago. The soldiers walk along the rugged terrain and mountainous trail until arriving at the entrance of a large cave.

“Sarge, I think we found the missing team,” one of the soldiers said.

“Lock and load, spread out,” commands the sarge.

The Sarge and the Medic officer examine the pieces of bones and broken military equipment haphazardly scattered all around the clearing.

“What the hell happened?” asks the Sarge.

“These bones are human,” concludes the Medic.

“Hey doc, any theory?” Sarge asks.

“It could be one of these Anaconda snakes out here,” the medic explains.

A soldier steps up to the mouth of the cave overlooking the terrain.

Sarge yells out,

“What do you see?”

“From here. Sir. It looks like a pile of chicken bones after a meal,” reports the soldier.

The Sarge gives a hand signal for his platoon to gather; they exchange looks of concern.

“Whatever killed those men is in that cave. We’re going in. Aim high and kill whatever comes out,” commands the Sarge.

The soldier at the mouth of the cave is about to enter when a fifteen feet, red-head humanoid, geared in military fatigues, emerges. On close observation, the red-bearded creature possesses six-digit feet and hands and is double-toothed. Against the desert landscape, its pale skin cuts a striking figure as it assaults the soldier, impaling him effortlessly.

“I am Hercules,” the Nephilim boasts.

A chaotic scene is generated as the soldiers open fire at the creature. Hercules fights back, tossing a few soldiers.

The team scatters, partly out of fright, and then takes cover, reloading their rounds, just as a crackle on the radio gets their attention.

“Sarge, this is General Weyland. I am calling you back; do not attack the specimen. I repeat, do not attack.

The Sarge throws three tear gas containers, blinding Hercules in smoke, while his team runs to the evacuation point.

One soldier sees the hover- carrier, and points to the sky,

“Move, move, let’s go, soldiers,” he yells, waving at his comrades to their exit. As the hover- carrier lands, each soldier enters the carrier and departs from the area.

Hercules steps out from the rocky terrain and is exposed for all to see; he clears his eyes from the gas.

“I am Hercules. Fight me, little men! Hercules is the strongest,” he yelled.

It’s been a long night. Maya and Gibbons arrive from the military facility. Maya sits near the holo screen as if waiting for someone to call her. Gibbons receives data information on the artifact of King Solomon’s ring.

“We have a client and a situation,” Gibbons expresses with excitement.

Maya opens a bottle of water and swings down the contents.

“So where we heading now, and what are we facing?” asks Maya.

Gibbons shows the artifact on the head -monitor. With a split screen of Hercules.

“We have a Nephilim problem, project Hercules in the desert of Woe, a platoon of soldiers went missing a few days ago, and another team barely escaped with their lives.

“Oh great, more monsters,” Maya grumbles.

“We will also be relic-hunting for The Seal of Solomon or what most people call “RING OF SOLOMON,” Gibbons says with excitement.

“What is this seal?” Maya asks.

“Legend has it that Yahuah commanded the Arch-Mal’akh Miyka’el to give King Solomon the seal to control the unholy, so he had his artisan create according to the instructions given to him.

This ring gave Solomon the power to command him, the jinn, and the fallen Malakhim or to speak with animals and control them. For centuries many people have sought this ring to rule the nations, but they always had the wrong ring.” Gibbons chuckles as he explains.

“How so?” Maya asks.

“Most scholars believe that the seal is depicted in either a pentagram or hexagram shape using the Kabbalah magic. But the actual seal has a sapphire stone with the name of Yahuah in the Paleo Hebrew markings, for we know how Yahuah feels about Malakhim magic, as it is written.

“Do not turn to mediums or necromancers; do not seek them out, so make yourselves unclean by them.

There will not be found among you anyone who burns his son or daughter as an offering, anyone who practices divination or tells fortunes or interprets omens,

Neither will you entertain yourselves with a sorcerer, a charmer, a medium, a necromancer, or one who inquires of the dead, for whoever does these things is an abomination to Yahuah.” Gibbons explains.

“There is something I did not know,” Maya says, half serious, half skeptical.

Maya suddenly receives a hologram message, plays it, and finds out her sister was murdered. Shocked and bereaved, she feels lost and overwhelmed with profound emotions.

She sits with her head low, sobbing over her sister’s death. Gibbons is concerned for Maya, as he hands her a box of tissues, the best he can do.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your message. Can you speak now?”

Maya nods her head and blows her nose with the tissues.

“I,….I,… have lost my sister Colleen,” Maya says, composing herself.

“I know the feeling of losing a sister,” Gibbons says comfortingly.

“Colleen and I were like two peas in a pod. Her grades were higher than mine at the academy. She was a woman who knew what she wanted, and that girl could fight; she’s gotten me out of many scrapes.” Maya recalls nostalgically.

“I’m very sorry to hear this,” Gibbons says to comfort her.

Suddenly they hear Spirit’s motor rumbling. Maya looks at Gibbons.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Azrael,” Maya expresses.

Just as Azrael walks in, she walks out of the foyer to compose herself.

“Shalom,” Azrael says.

He sees Gibbons, who is at his monitor with the Seal of Solomon on display.

“I see. We have our next adventure. Who’s our client?” Azrael asks.

“League of Nations; this relic is significant to the peace treaties of the nations. You have heard of wars and rumors of wars that are escalating. We need to find the ring and take it to the Museum at the City of Enoch,” Gibbons says,

Azrael takes a deep breath, scratches his head, and fixes his hat.

“You know that we will be facing stiff global competition due to the power of this ring,” Gibbons concluded. “The military will be involved in this, and speaking of such, I have a gift for you,” Azrael says as he fishes out the thumb- drive.

“A gift for me? It would be best if you didn’t have,” Gibbons says with his quipped humor.

He takes it from Azrael and plugs it into his computer.

“Uploading information of the super-soldier program along with reptilian creatures, including the special feature of cloning their first Nephilim,” Azrael sarcastically replies.

“Receiving the data,” Gibbons says with a smile.

Maya walks in. as if nothing has happened,

“Where did you get this information, Azrael?” she asks, back to her usual self.

“Of a dead lizard, a genetically cloned Chalkydri. It’s a genetic manipulation of Nephilim, human and reptilian mix,” Azrael explains.

“So this is why Diana died, so that these bastards could clone these abominations,” Gibbons angrily replies.

“I feel you, brother. Stay focused on the mission. I have more,” Azrael expresses.

“More?” Maya speaks out with disbelief.

“Yes, Maya, the underworld is a massive underground transportation system with tunnels from Dudael to DC across the four corners of Adamah.

They all connect to a central meeting point. What I figure is Nineveh, Area 51366,” Azrael finished his explanation.

“Don’t worry. We can handle anything that comes up.” Gibbons says while he reads the information on the screen.

“Yes, as long as we follow Yahuah’s instructions,

His Presence goes before us,” Azrael interjects.

“So we are dealing with some government conspiracy?” Maya asks aloud.

Gibbons looks narrowly at her.

“Unfortunately, yes, Maya,” he says.

Azrael sighs and frowns, scratching his chin, “I can only imagine where this is going,” he says.

Maya shoots him a surprised look.

“I called my sister before our last mission. She was a genetic researcher. But not just for the use of lineages.

Her job was to be sampled by the military for experimentation,” Maya says, feeling the pain of her loss.

“What research exactly are you talking about?” Gibbons asks.

Maya sniffles again and continues.

“Colleen confided in me. Boasting in her field, you know. At first, I thought it was nothing. But it was for real.

They did it.” Maya says.

Azrael is a bit confused about what is going on, “Who is Colleen?” he asks.

“Colleen is Maya’s sister, who has just passed on,” Gibbons says respectfully.

Maya darts her eyes at Gibbons as she holds back her emotions. He stands with his newfound information.

“I am truly sorry, Maya. I need to say something; we are not your enemy. We are your friends,” Gibbons says benevolently.

Maya sits, dazed, as Gibbons shows the information on the head monitor.

“The project was collecting ancient DNA from all the kings and heroes they could find, so they could copy or use them to improve modern DNA.

They collected samples from sites that weren’t destroyed too far. And this one giant they found was well preserved. So well maintained it was like it was just recent,” Gibbons says as he nods his head in disgust.

“Sounds like they got a Nephilim-DNA sample,” Azrael says.

“If they can do this now, who knows what they might create shortly?” Maya interjects.

“Would it be possible for an ancient spirit to retake its old body after it is cloned?” Gibbons asks, in significantly.

Azrael shrugs.

“The fifth Mal’akh sounded a shofar, to a Mal’akh which was given a key to the abyss. The Mal’akh opened the abyss, and smoke from a great furnace arose out of the pit,” Azrael quotes.

“Possible. I don’t see why not,” he concludes.

“Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, it will go wrong,” Maya says nonsensically.

Gibbons looks at Maya.

“Well, my sister said they could reconstitute some of the samples, but it would override whatever genetics anybody has had,” Maya explains.

“Maya? Where did Colleen work?” Gibbons asks.

“Colleen worked in the south, in the mountains. I think it was an underground facility,” she says.

Gibbons types Maya’s directions, and a 3D map appears before the three; they stand around the map,

“Ah, I see your sister worked near the City of Enoch! Coincidence?” Gibbons exasperates.

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Colleen was murdered for leaking information,” Azrael says with a low growl.

“I see. What else should we know?” Maya asks

.“In my last talk, she said something like this might happen. The genetic project was supposed to improve human motor skills, strength, health, and intelligence quotient. They wanted to know if the past Generals and Kings had any special advantage over the rest of their subjects. If there were some accident of nature or some involvement going on, they could advance the project and benefit from it,” Maya concludes.

“Okay,” Gibbons says.

He puts upon the head monitor the image of a Nephilim, the Ring of Solomon,

“So the military is going for the ring?” Maya asks.

“And they need the Nephilim to find it, for its blood knows where it is,” Azrael says with the wisdom of Shekinah.

“We got our work cut out for us, for only Nephil or Azrael will be able to control the Ring of Solomon,” Gibbons explains.

Azrael breaks up the thought process.

“Hey, I hope there’ll be some kind of funeral for Colleen?” Azrael asks, concerned.

“Yes, there will be,” Maya answers.

“Nobody would mind if we tagged along for the funeral?

To check who is who?” Gibbons injects.

Azrael nods in agreement. Maya looks at both of them.

“I’m not sure. But whatever or whoever did this to my sister needs to be stopped,” Maya angrily replies.

Azrael takes Maya and gently hugs her,

“That is a strong yes, my dear friend. I promise we will find and bring justice.”

Gibbons clears his throat.

“We need to find that ring before Hercules does,” Gibbons interjects.

The three leave their facilities to their vehicles and race off into the day.

It’s your typical funeral; men and women dressed in black, with umbrellas as the skies cry with rain over the departed Colleen, a sister to Maya.

Various people are gathered at this typical funeral arrangement. Maya, Gibbons, and Azrael approach the crowd. Soldiers look suspiciously at them.

A Rabbi precedes the funeral. Maya hugs a few family members; they weep as Colleen’s coffin is lowered into the ground.

Azrael looks around and focuses on General Weyland, standing back out of the crowd near the cars. Maya motions for Azrael and Gibbons to follow her to meet the General.

“General Weyland?”

“Yes?” says the General with a brassy voice.

“Do you remember me from a few years ago, with

Colleen?” Maya asks.

The General looks at her with a vague memory,

“Yes, I remember you. You’re her sister, I recall, though I cannot quite recall your name, ” he says.

“Yes,” she replies.

He chuckles a bit.

“It’s my job to remember. I’m sorry about what has happened to your sister,” he says solemnly.

Maya sniffles and wipes away her tears. The General looks at Azrael and is taken by his size, glances at Gibbons quizzically, and then back to Maya.

“This is my boss and colleague. Professor Gibbons and Agent Azrael Phoenix,” Maya introduces.

Weyland looks uncomfortable but warmly greets them.

“Doctor? Agent? It looks like you keep good company, Maya. I am impressed.

Azrael looks the general over stiffly. Gibbons greets the General, and They shake hands.

“Professor Gibbons, third-highest chairman of the nations,” the General says.

“The Chairman of Areth,” Gibbons interjects with humor.

It’s a pleasure meeting you. Sorry about the loss of your sis. I imagine her abilities served the government extensively,” he concluded.

Weyland looks at Gibbons with fake condolence.

“Yes. It is a great loss—such an intelligent and capable woman,” the General replies in a corny fashion.

“Anything further on her loss?” Gibbons asks.

Weyland casts a suspicious glance at Gibbons.

Knowing that Gibbons is his boss, he defers.

“No. Not yet. But don’t be insulted. She was a researcher, which is classified at this time,” the General states.

Gibbons shakes his head negatively.

“No offense taken. Just genuine concern,” he insists.

Gibbons nods to Maya. The general concedes with concern. Azrael remains stiff.

“Thank you in general for being here. I still need to talk to her family about some things, so I’ll be excusing myself, ” Maya says as she hugs the General goodbye.

Maya, Azrael, and Gibbons return to the family walk-off scene. The general looks on as he climbs into his vehicle.

Hot sunny day in the small town of Kadesh. General Weyland is sitting on a lawn chair near his poolside. The house is pretty extensive, lavish, and comfortable.

He reads a book, and next to him is a table with a tropical drink. There is a buzz, and he puts his book down and walks over to a camera intercom system. He pushes the button down, slightly irritated.

“Yeah? What is it?”

On-screen, two soldiers are there, with Azrael standing behind them. They salute the general.

“Sir? This man claims to have met you.” the soldier explains.

“So? I have no appointments today.” General barks his order.

“He insisted on talking to you, sir,” says the soldier.

The soldiers look uncomfortable at the general, who frowns a moment. Then they glance at the seven-foot giant next to him and back at the monitor.

“Gentlemen, as much as this may be urgent in your eyes, he has to make an appointment at my office like everybody else. I’m too busy today.” the General says as he switches off his monitor.

“Yes, sir,” says the soldier.

Weyland turns with a frown of disgust as he strides back to his lawn chair. He settles down and starts to read again.

One minute later, two soldiers yell as they make their entrance over the wall into his pool, creating a large splash and disrupting the General’s vacation.

“What the hell is going on here, soldiers?” The soldiers climb out of the pool.

“That man whom you refuse to see; he threw us over the wall into your pool, sir,” the soldiers explained.

Azrael appears behind the General. The soldiers’ eyes give the General the alert. He turns and is face-to-face with his unwanted guest.

“Too busy, I see,” Azrael sarcastically says.

He pushes the General into the pool with his two soldiers, and the soldiers try to escape, but Azrael grabs them and throws them against a wall.

They succumb to unconsciousness.

“Can’t alert more men now, can we?” he scoffs.

The General is furious as he climbs out of the pool ignominiously.

“Who do you think you are? Barging into my home? Get off my property,” the General demands.

“Yes, sir, but first, we need to talk,” Azrael agrees.

He grabs the General and throws him into his study room. The General looks perplexed as he backs away from Azrael, who approaches him menacingly.

The General throws a round kick at Azrael, who counters by catching the General’s kick, and then picks him up by his leg and holds him upside down.

“Wha,……How,……how are you doing this? You are one of them, right?” the General says.

“One of what?” Azrael growls.

“Nephilim,” the General states.

Azrael shakes his head negatively and drops him. The General climbs back to his feet as Azrael folds his arms.

“You got my attention,” the General says.

“I’m the guy cleaning up your mess. I’m tired of cleaning up the messes of ignorant buffoons like you,” Azrael grumbles.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Agent?” the General says with more than a tinge of nervousness.

“You said it; you think I am a Nephilim, so where is the alpha? Azrael questions.

Azrael grabs the General and throws him down, breaking up a coffee table and pinning him down with his boot.

“Now, you have lost something of interest to me. Where is he?”

General struggles to free himself.

“I,….I can’t tell anybody; it’s classified,” the General explains.

Azrael laughs.

“General, classified info is like constipation. It comes out hard and painful. So, I can either squeeze it out of you, or you can pass it all by yourself. The choice is all yours, soldier boy, “Azrael angrily says, putting pressure on the General.

The general looks up at Azrael, unamused.

“What do you want out of me?” the General painfully asks.

“Clean up your constipated mess. You upper-class people think you can be gods and slaughter billions in a blink of an eye.

The arrogance! You people dare to create horrors of the past, and if your pet is to repopulate, the nations will suffer greatly, ″ Azrael angrily raves.

He pushes hard on the General to the point where his chest is about to snap, and the General grimaces with pain.

The General protests and relent.

“Alright, alright, will you please cut the theatrics?”

Azrael steps back, and he notices one soldier coming. He lifts his arm, and a sleeping dart is fired from his bracer. It hits his target, and he shoots the other just in case.

The General is back to his feet.

“Where is Hercules?” growls Azrael.

The general breathes out the answer, knowing that only this would save him.

“North from here, in the Desert of Woe.

Azrael walks out and fades where the General can not see him. The General pours himself a whiskey and gulps it down. He pushes a button on his holo image- display; a silhouette of an elderly gentleman is seen.

This is Rothwell. He’s the head of the Illuminati secret organization known as Shadows of Nations, the government within the government.

“General report,” states Rothwell in a cold, impersonal tone.

“We have a problem, sir; Colleen’s sister, Maya, and her colleague are up at us,” the General warns.

“Deal with them like any other pest,” Rothwell commands.

“You don’t understand, sir; it’s Gibbons Silverstone, and he has a super-soldier working for him,” the General states.

“Oh, him, the bureaucratic pest, intriguing, isn’t it? Just on the eve of our nation’s takeover, he shows up. No doubt he’s here for Solomon’s Ring,” Rothwell retorts.

What is unique with this ring, risking my soldiers to go toe to toe with Gibbons’ pet?” questions the General.

“Your soldiers? I own them as I own you, but I want you to use that Alpha to obtain the Ring of Solomon, for just as I benefit, you benefit too,” Rothwell commands.

“Yes, Sir,” the General says as he switches off his Holo image- display and leaves the scene.

Azrael is racing down the highway on Spirit. Suddenly, his spirit eye opens, and he sees the Nephilim in the desert, yelling to the sky,

“Now I will go and give my proper respect to that abomination,” Azrael says.

Spirit’s monitor opens a communication panel. Maya is seen on the Holo Display,

“Azrael, whatever you do, do not kill that giant. We need him to find the Ring of Solomon,” Maya says over the intercom.

“You know how to ruin my day, don’t you?” Azrael teases jokingly.

“Where are you now?” Maya inquiries.

“Three clicks away is the reply.

“We’re two clicks away,” Maya forms.

“See you shortly,” Azrael says, switching off his Holo Display.

On the opposite side of the desert of Woe, we see the Dagonslayer racing toward Hercules. The Nephilim picks up some boulders and tosses them at the incoming van. Maya swerves through the chaotic mess.

“I am impressed with your driving skills. A bit bumpy but impressive,” Gibbons says, trying to stay in his seat.

“Professor, what’s your game plan?” Maya questions.

“Get us close to the Hercules and open up the disc chargers; it will put him down,” Gibbons suggests as he pushes a button on his keyboard.

Maya flips a switch on the side panels of the van’s exterior, which opens up with glowing discs carrying electrical power surges. She throws another button, and the disc ejects from the side panel of the van. Hercules looks up, hearing the sound of bees, not realizing they are incoming discs.

“These are strange-looking bees, ″ he says to himself.

Maya moves the Dagonslayer around him. We see dust encircling the giant, choking him. The discs-drone attach themselves to the giant and zaps with electrical charges, rendering him unconscious. Maya comes to a skidding halt. Gibbons and her climb out and manage to get a closer look at Hercules as the dust settles,

“Oh wow, that is what these creatures look like. He’s ugly,” Maya observes,

“He doesn’t smell too good either,” Gibbons says.

“So what are we looking at here, Professor?” Maya asks.

Gibbons’ curiosity gets better as he goes over to look at Hercules. Maya recoils.

“So this is what these things look like. Professor, why is this creature in military fatigues?” Maya asks.

“I believe he is part of the super soldier program.”

They can hear Azrael’s motorcycle approaching from a distance.

“Now Azrael has to do his part,” Gibbons says.

“And what would that be?” Maya asks.

“This beast here thinks he is the Alpha, so he and Azrael are going to fight. If Azrael wins, this creature will follow wherever he goes,” Gibbons explains.

Azrael arrives and comes to a screeching halt.

“What took you so long?” Maya asks.

“Maya, if I didn’t know any better, I think you’re being sarcastic with me,” Azrael laughs.

“Laugh all you like, Azrael. Wait till you hear what Gibbons’ plans are for you,” Maya humorously says.

Azrael climbs off of his motorcycle and steps up next to Gibbons, who smiles broadly at him,

“Let the records show that the scriptures are correct. Here we have a Nephilim, pale white skin, red hair, and six fingers on each hand. The beast stands about fifteen feet, weighing about twelve hundred pounds,” Gibbons says.

Gibbons glancing at Azrael looks him over.

“And you, my friend, stand at seven feet, weighing two hundred and fifty pounds for the main event,” Gibbons says, sounding like a boxing ring announcer.

“Main event?” Azrael says, realizing what Gibbons is insinuating.

Azrael pulls out Brimstone and cocks it to kill Hercules.

“Don’t kill him, Azrael. Remember, we need to find the Ring of Solomon,” Gibbons reminds us.

Maya steps in,

“Besides, I made a wager with Gibbons that you will lose the battle,” Maya lies, knowing that would goad Azrael on more.

“You wagered against me?” Azrael questions.

“Yes, this creature is eight feet taller than you and weighs nine hundred and fifty pounds more than you. I am betting on ugly here,” Maya laughs.

Hercules starts to come to.

“Maya, Gibbons, get out of here. I know what I need to do,” Azrael commands.

“We’ll meet you at the top of the hill at the main entrance,” Gibbons says as he climbs into the Dagonslayer.

Maya follows, and they drive off. Hercules stands and sees Azrael climbing onto Spirit and races off.

“Hercules will kill you, little man,” he says as he regains his strength.

Hercules runs till he is a few feet away from Azrael. He pulls out his sword, swinging it several times and missing Azrael, who deftly dodges the deadly strikes.

He flips a switch from Spirit’s console that increases his speed, leaving dust in Hercules’s face.

The giant breathes heavily and looks relieved when he sees a river nearby.

“Water. This air is too thin,” Hercules says.

He walks into the shallow river glaring at the road where Azrael stands in the distance.

He drops to his knees and laps like a dog, drinking the water to refresh himself, before suddenly standing and sniffing the air as he picks up Azrael’s scent.

“Don’t go too far, little man; no one mocks Hercules, especially an insect like you,” he growls arrogantly.

Azrael is speeding down the highway. He feels energy unknown to him. Soon, he looks to the side and spies a mountain peak.

“This is the place, Azrael,” the voice of Shekinah, the Spirit of Yahuah, reverberates. “What do you see?”

Azrael heeds the call and turns up the road towards the hill. Hercules sees the motorcycle glinting in the distance.

“Ah, there you are,” Hercules booms.

He jumps into action, racing toward the hillside. Azrael pulls into an open space at the bottom of the small cliff. He dismounts from Spirit and hides it. He looks up at the ridge and then begins his climb. As he reaches the top of the cliff, he can feel the ground shaking with Hercules’ heavy gait. Not surprisingly, he sees Hercules standing at the bottom. Hercules looks up, a little stumped.

“There you are, little man,” Hercules laughs boastfully. Hercules ascends his climb to confront Azrael. As he lifts his head, he sees Azrael standing before him.

“You’re detestable in the sight of Yahuah,” Azrael says, punching Hercules between the eyes.

The giant tumbles head over heels off the cliff; the ground shakes as he lands heavily at the bottom.

Hercules gets up slowly.

“I will smear your bones,” Hercules growls as he threatens.

Hercules recovers himself and bounds up the Cliffside once again. As he nears the top, he stops, takes out his sword, and swings it a few times before he pauses abruptly, wondering.

“Did I get him?” he seems to be asking.

Hercules slowly lifts himself up to the top, and to his surprise, he sees Azrael standing before him again.

“Persistent, aren’t you?” Azrael says as he punches Hercules again.

Hercules lands harder at the bottom, knocked out cold.

Azrael looks down with a sigh.

“Enough of this Jack and the beanstalk nonsense,” he says. Azrael turns and sees Gibbons and Maya at the entrance of the cave. Maya is carrying a backpack,

“Nice work,” Maya sarcastically says.

“What’s the bag for?” Azrael asks with curiosity.

“I have seven monoclinic crystals to unlock the Ring. It’s Gibbons’ idea, Maya says with a bit of humor.

“You didn’t kill the Nephilim, did you”? Gibbons asks.

“No, I just knocked him out,” Azrael says.

Gibbons scans the rock face and finds a camouflaged rock -door. Azrael pushes it open, and they enter.

Maya lights up a couple of torches, and they start down a hall into a larger room with several exits. Gibbons examines the writings on the wall.

“This is the place,” Gibbons says with a tinge of excitement.

“Best news all day. Let’s crack this stone code so we can get some closure,” Maya says.

“I second that,” Gibbons says.

The cave shakes with a low growl. Azrael looks down at the cavern. He sees the rock- door fly open, and Hercules pounds at the entrance, breaking up the rock so he can get into the cave.

“I know you’re in there, little man, and I’m coming to get you,” yells Hercules belligerently.

“He’s a bit aggressive,” Gibbons remarks.

“He reminds me of my grumpy grandfather,” Maya laughs.

Azrael takes a torch from Maya’s hand and tosses it at the large double doors they face. Maya and Gibbons look wide-eyed at the ancient ruin doors.

Azrael retreats to a side exit as Maya and Gibbons follow.

Outside the main entrance, Hercules keeps pounding away at the rock face until the wall collapses. He looks down the corridor.

He then pushes all the rocks to the side, enters the cavern, moves down the corridor, and finds a torch near the double doors.

“Seems you forgot something, little man. You were in such a hurry to get away from me,” Hercules laughs enticingly.

He throws open the double doors with ease. He stops and looks to the right and the left of the doorway. Before entering the mysterious rural area, he runs.

Azrael steps out of the shadows, along with Gibbons and Maya. They follow after Hercules.

They find themselves in a deep and wide ancient rural area where dark and sinister howling winds whip dust, reducing visibility.

The team walks among the ancient civilizations. Azrael is scanning with his bracer, Gibbons is gawking at some of the hieroglyphs, and Maya is feeling overwhelmed with the discovery,

“Will you look at this place? It’s unbelievable.” Maya gushes with excitement.

“This mysterious village was built before the time of

King Solomon to defend against the Nephilim.”

“This is like Petra, but much larger,” Maya realizes.

Azrael continues to glance at his bracer as he follows Hercules’ trail. Maya and Gibbons follow from a distance, mainly to get some images and records of their findings of the mysterious rural area.

Hercules continues at high speed deep in some labyrinth within the area. He stops to catch his breath. The ground beneath his feet gives way, and he plummets one kilometer below level, landing hard on his back.

“Hercules, not feeling good,” he says aloud.

He stands and takes a different passageway out.

Azrael, Gibbons, and Maya continue slowly through the mysterious rural area. They see a round stone door with three hieroglyphs in Paleo Hebrew.

Azrael scans with his bracer.

“Must be a temple of some kind,” he says.

He glances at his team for answers.

“Be ready for anything,” Azrael concludes.

“This door is a locking mechanism. Only when we set the correct patterns will the door open,” Gibbons says.

He and Maya approach the door. Maya reads ancient Hebrew. ‘Name of Creator,’ she reads aloud.

Azrael moves toward the door.

“Care to take a crack, Maya? What is the creator’s name?” Azrael asks.

Maya steps back and looks at the letters.

“Being with you guys, I have come to learn it is Yeshua,” she hesitantly answers.

Due to his size, Azrael moves the stone-puzzle blocks to Maya’s answer when they hear an echoing click.

“I did it. I got the right answer,” Maya says with excitement.

“Wrong answer,” Azrael says, pushing Maya and Gibbons to safety.

A trap spring opens with flying darts, which graze Azrael as he deflects the left darts stuck into the wall.

Maya continues to study the glyphs and, as usual, has umpteen questions.

“How is this possible? Isn’t Yeshua the Creator?” she asks with confusion.

“Understand, Maya. You’re not entirely wrong; think of the time frame and the language, “Gibbons encourages Maya.

Maya dusted herself off and looked at the puzzle once again.

“Right, this has to be before the deluge,” Maya concludes.

Azrael moves the block into place, saying,

“Et Aravat.”

The sound of grinding stones is heard, and the door rolls open. Maya looks at both Azrael and Gibbons.

“What is Et Aravat?” Maya asks.

“In modern translation, “the Word of Aravat,” Gibbons says.

“Aravat is the Father of Creation, the first age of man knew him in such, and we know him today as Yah, Yahuah, Yahuah, and nothing is made without his instructions. Yeshua is known as the Word of Yah. Therefore Yeshua is Et Aravat,” Azrael concludes.

They enter through a stone entrance.

Hercules climbs out from the underground chasm and finds himself back in a rural city as he backtracks.

“Little man, clever,” he complains.

The serpent of old is thirty feet long and meets with Hercules. They battle; the snake wraps itself around Hercules, squeezing his life out. Hercules pounds at the serpent with grunts and growls. He grabs the serpent’s jaws and tears it into two, and finally taking his sword to decapitate the snake,

“Hercules is strong as ever,” he yells boastfully.

He unravels himself from the dead serpent and sheaths his sword before continuing his way back as he picks up Azrael’s scent.

Azrael, Gibbons, and Maya stand inside the temple- room. The floor is built like a wheel in a wheel with lava flowing underneath, slowly turning it counterclockwise. The upper structures of the wheels have four corners connecting as balconies, with four Idols of Lions decorating the corners.

The temple’s walls are smooth like marble with sockets, ready to place something into. The ceiling has a giant crystal orb floating above it, glowing with its kind of light illuminating the room.

“This must be the temple of the lost city of Enoch,” Azrael says.

“Look,” Maya says, pointing at the wall with the sockets.

“The Ring of Solomon should be beneath the platform.

Maya, let’s get to work,” Gibbons instructs.

Maya sets her bag down and hands Gibbons a large ruby stone. He puts it in the sockets of the wall. The crystal stone changes the color of the orb.

Light makes a square shape on the wall opposite Gibbons. Azrael approaches and looks closer at it. He can see niches on the corners.

“Must be a place to set more stones,” Azrael realizes.|

“Heads up,” Maya tosses him the next stone.

Azrael places the amethyst stone into the socket, and the orb gives off another color effect.

Maya and Gibbons place their final crystal stones into their designated slots, and Azrael finishes with the sapphire stone into its last slot.

The floating orb changes, and there is a humming sound. Azrael goes back to the opposite wall. He pulls out the jasper stone and switches it with the amber as the light grows brighter and steadies itself.

“I think we got it,” Azrael says.

The three look on in awe.

“Now what?” Maya asks aloud.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Gibbons says, stumped.

Azrael hears heavy footsteps coming from behind, and he turns and sees Hercules.

“Little man, fight me,” Hercules growls.

Azrael goes into his fighting stance.

“Alright, bring it in. Let’s get this over with,” Azrael says, egging him on.

Hercules’ attention is shifted like a feline to a laser; his eyes are on the glowing orb as he approaches it. Azrael relaxes.

Finding something familiar, Herc?” Azrael sarcastically asks.

Hercules grunts and darts his eyes at him. Gibbons and Maya make their way to Azrael, standing behind him.

Azrael turns and looks at Maya, knowing she has many questions.

“You’re wondering what is going on?” Azrael says.

“Precisely,” Maya replies, gripping her gun.

“This Hercules is the only one who can unlock the chamber to the ring, and that orb is too enormous for Azrael to wrap his arms around,” Gibbons interjects.

Hercules grabs the glowing orb, whose power is like that of a vacuum; its energy sucks Hercules in and finds him fighting against the force of the sphere.

He grunts and yells as he pulls it down, unlocking an underground door that releases the ancient altar of incense from the first temple to Yahuah.

As the altar slowly ascends and locks into position, we see the Ring of Solomon. It is forged in pure silver, with a gold crown on the face, holding a sapphire stone with the Paleo Hebrew markings etched in gold.

“Azrael, it’s time to stop all this destructive madness,” Gibbons says.

“I agree,” Azrael says, taking a step forward.

Maya stops him.

“You’re not thinking. There is always a catch; nothing is easy,” Maya warns.

“You’re correct, but where did you learn this?”

Azrael asks with a smile.

“The movies,” Maya says sarcastically.

“The movies?” Azrael questions with laughter.

“This is why we hired her; she’s got some wisdom, don’t you think?” Gibbons interjects.

A cracking sound catches their attention. Azrael pulls his gun, ready to shoot. Just as the orb hatches open, two wasps as giant as a six-foot man emerge from their egg. They dart around.

Maya and Azrael open fire and miss their flying targets.

“They’re moving too damn fast,” Gibbons yells.

“Any ideas? We’re listening,” Maya remarks as she continues to fire,

Hercules comes to. He climbs to his feet, and the wasps attack him while he fights with a vengeance.

“Interesting, those pests don’t see us as a threat,” Maya says, lowering her gun.

Azrael sheaths his gun.

“They must be some kind of guardians of this chamber,” Azrael observes.

Gibbons steps up next to Azrael.

“Azrael, I have a theory: grab the ring and use it, the ring should give you the power to control those flying pests, but you need to get through the clash of the titans,” Gibbons says with his typical quipped humor.

“It’s never easy, is it?” Azrael says.

“When has it ever been?” Gibbons continues with slight humor.

Azrael takes a deep sigh and adjusts his hat as he maneuvers himself around the battling giants.

The two wasps attach themselves over Hercules with their stingers. They stab him in the heart and inject poison into his body.

Hercules drops dead, and the wasps pull away, moving toward Gibbons and Maya, who shoot off a few rounds.

Azrael grabs the Ring of Solomon and puts it on. “I take this ring, in Yeshua’s name; the gift of Yahuah, to control the unholy, grant me wisdom against these foes,” Azrael prays,

The sapphire pulsates with a glowing aura as he takes control of the wasps, holding them at bay.

“Maya, shoot them in the head. It’s their only weak spot,” Azrael commands.

Maya reloads her gun and shoots the wasps, exploding them into goop.

“Well played, Maya,” Azrael compliments.

“Thanks,” Maya replies, sheathing her gun.

Azrael hands Gibbons the Ring of Solomon,

“Take it to the Museum in the City of Enoch and bring some shalom to the nations,” Azrael says.

Gibbons and Maya close in around Azrael.

“You know that this ring can be a formidable weapon. Why don’t you keep it?” Gibbons says, holding it out to him.

“Only your bloodline can activate this ring,” Maya insists.

Azrael looks at the glowing relic and pushes it back to Gibbons,

“The ring has served its purpose. Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

I am only a servant, a sword of Yahuah. I have felt its power. If it were meant for me, it would have been given to me in the beginning,” Azrael states as he walks away.

Maya steps in before him.

“So you’re just going to give up the power,” she questions disappointedly.

“I am already equipped in what I need to do. Taking this power will only prove I am as selfish as any other man seeking his kingdom.

This ring was a test. Now step aside, Maya. I have a trophy to present to General Weyland,” Azrael rebukes Maya.

Gibbons places the ring into a box from Maya’s backpack and packs it in. Maya moves over to Gibbons, and he hands her backpack to her.

Azrael takes his sword and walks on Hercules’ chest.

“What are you doing? Azrael, the giant, is already dead?” Maya asks.

Azrael glances at Maya,

“Giving the General a heads up,” he says, swiping Hercules’ head from his shoulders.

Maya turns from the blood as it’s sprayed from the body, Gibbons keeps quiet, knowing what Azrael is doing, and our hero walks out with Hercules’ head in hand.

RELICS

Six months earlier, Dr. Trish McLeod, mid-thirties, was in the thick of things. She’s sexy; a natural brunette, relaxed, and elegant. Her eyes are accentuated with makeup. Her lips are natural and smooth with enough color to enhance the lips just a touch, nothing overpowering. She’s working on an experiment in her laboratory. Mark, mid-thirties, slender and with dark hair, is her secretary. He buzzed her through their hologram communication system.

“Dr. McLeod, you have a package here from the postal service,” he says.

“I’ll be out in a moment,” she replies.

Trish exits the laboratory and sees the rare amphora container. Her jaw drops as she examines the jar, which is made out of pure crystal with elaborate decorations; two sigil relics of the past pulsate with a faint green aura within it.

She asks Mark, “Who is this from?”

“They sent it to you from the Nation of Brasilis, and they want you to take a closer look at these rare artifacts because of your breakthrough in scientific energy research. They believe this is a new source of energy,” Mark explains as he gives her the letter.

She glances over the letter and hands it back to Mark, who puts it away. Trish walks over to the examining table, picks up the artifact, and recognizes its authenticity,

“Definitely a rare find, it dates back to the Neolithic time period,” she says aloud, as she examines the object.

Mark sees the glowing rocks.

“What’s up with the stones?” he asks out of curiosity.

“That is what I am determined to find out,” she says with the most serious determination. She glances at Mark with a smile.

“It’s late, I’m going to be here for a while longer. I’ll lock up when I’m finished,” she says gazing at the artifact. Mark grabs his things and heads out the door,

“Okay, have a good night,” he says walking out.

Four in the morning, Trish uses a laser to cut through one of the Sigil Stones. An explosion occurs, and she is rendered unconscious. Within the chaos of smoke, a woman with a voluptuous body, long red wavy hair, silky white skin, and flawless curves appears in skimpy leather armor flaunting her beauty; the only difference between her and others is her demonic features; bat-like wings, barbed tails, and curled horns, coupled with glowing eyes.

Trish slowly opens her eyes, feeling groggy; she sees the strange woman looking down on her. She jumps up with cat-like reflexes.

“Who the hell are you?” she asks nervously.

“I am Satrina, mistress of the night, you have no fear of me woman,” she says as she touches Trish’s forehead.

Satrina’s eyes glow brightly, putting a spell over Trish’s mind.

“You will do my bidding,” she continues.

“As you command my mustard,” Trish says with a vacant look.

Satrina looks at her like she is out of her mind, for Trish could never pronounce master correctly.

“It’s master, not mustard,” Satrina says, picks up the second Sigil Stone, hands it to Trish.

“Send this to Areth, to a man named Gibbons, we have much work to do,” she commands.

“Yes, my mustard,” Trish walks out of the Laboratory with the Sigil Stone. Satrina shakes her head and does a palm slap against her forehead.

“I had to pick an idiot,” she says,

Satrina unfurls her wings, and folds them around her and vanishes, reappearing on the rooftop of the medical facility. She is overlooking the small town. She chants in an old language,

“Veni Foras,” she says.

An interdimensional portal opens. A small creature steps out; its appearance is like that of an Imp, with huge bulgy yellow eyes, bat-like wings, white scaly skin, with black stripes, and two rams’ horns on its head.

“Bagat, find me some souls,” she commands,

Satrina hands him a soul crystal. Bagat looks at it with curiosity,

“What is this, my mistress?” he asks.”

“This is called a soul crystal. The Grigori Kezef gave it to me for testing. If it works as it should, this will be the beginning of the end of Humanity. Now go and find me some souls,” she commands.

The Bagat opens its wings, and wraps itself,

“As you wish, my mistress,” he says and disappears.

Satrina feeling hungry, looks over the edge of the building, scoping out the streets below.

“Now I will feast,” she says to herself,

She sees Mark walking the streets alone. She smiles and takes to the sky, scooping Mark up like a falcon to a rodent. She flew off into the night with her prey.

REUNION

Present-day: A crisp, wet morning in Mysia, a small town that sits on the northern shoreline. The winter season has set in, and the waves are extremely high as they crash against the rocks showing off their might. Rainwater and brine from pure, salty moisture cover the area. Gibbons makes his way past the landmark.

Crossing the borders at the lighthouse, he parks his sports automobile in a parking lot, for the main roads are too narrow for modern vehicles. He climbs out, breathing in the cool morning air.

“It’s been some time since I have visited here,” he says as he enters the town.

The cobblestones are wet with the night’s rain and made slippery by the wintry temperature, casting the water into black ice. The roads are one vehicle wide with slim sidewalks. A horse and carriage stroll by in the early mornings.

Rather than get a bucket of sewage or bathwater from an upstairs window of one of the crooked houses on Main Street, Gibbons detours along the street by walking through the middle of the street.

Gibbons turns down on Morris Street, a narrow road, with trees on both sides, and homes joined together with red bricks. He comes to the home of 220 and pushes the doorbell. The door opens and it is Trish, dressed in house clothes.

“Gibbons, what brings you here?” she asks in a surprised tone.

“It’s been a while; you look terrific, Trish,” Gibbons says.

Trish smiles at the compliment.

“Yes, it’s been, what, six years? What brings you here?”

Trish questions with curiosity.

“The sigil stone you sent me,” Gibbons replies.

Trish is confused, not knowing she has sent him a sigil stone, but is surprised that he knew about it.

“I would appreciate your company,” she said to Gibbons.

Gibbons enters her dwelling. “How did you know about the sigil stone?” Trish asks.

“You sent it to me,” Gibbons replies.

“That’s funny; I don’t remember,” Trish says in confusion.

“Well, it’s a key to opening a gateway to the supernatural world,” Gibbons explains.

“Oh, I see. You know, you could have just called and told me that,” Trish says.

Before Gibbons could say another word, a five-year-old girl came walking in.

“Mommy,” she says, jumping into Trish’s arms.

“Hey squirt,” Trish replies, kissing her child on the cheek.

Gibbons adjusts his glasses with a smiles,

“Where is your husband?” he asked.

Trish looks at him.

“I don’t have a husband,” she replies.

Gibbons looks at the child and something about her is familiar to him, but he can’t seem to put his finger on it.

“What’s your name, young lady?” he asks,

She shyly cuddles in Trish’s arms.

“Her name is Zaryah, and it means Yah’s beauty is made strong,” Trish explains.

Gibbons smiles.

“It’s a beautiful name. So where is the father?” he asks out of curiosity.

Trish looks at Gibbons with a smile,

“Would you like to have a drink?” she asks.

“Sure why not,” Gibbons replies.

He makes his way to the kitchen. Trish sits Zaryah at the table, and Gibbons sits next to the child, while Trish pours her famous ice tea.

“Truth to be known; Zaryah’s father doesn’t even know she exists,” she says.

Trish hands Gibbons his drink. He looks at the child, and then back at Trish.

“Why haven’t you contacted the father?” he asks as he takes a swig of his Tea.

“Wasn’t sure where he was,” Trish says.

Gibbons finishes his drink and places the glass on the table.

“Yes, that’s how I remember it,” he says.

“Thank you. It means a lot that you remembered,” Trish says with a bit of blushing.

“But as to your question, if I were to tell Zaryah’s father I think he would probably walk away,” she says.

Trish sits at the table across from Gibbons.

“I am sorry to hear that, so who is this father? Maybe I can find him. I do have political pull, you know,” he says.

Trish feels a bit uncomfortable, takes her drink and gulps it down, and pours herself another glass; she repeats a few more times. Gibbons notices she is uncomfortable as if she was hiding something.

“Trish, what is it that you’re not telling me?” Gibbons asks as he pours Zaryah another drink.

Trish lets out a belch from the over-excessive drinking.

“Gibbons, you are the father,” she says.

Gibbons and Trish stare at each other; Zaryah turns to her mother, something unfamiliar. Trish welcomes Zaryah into her arms.

“Say something Gibbons,” Trish says, hugging Zaryah.

“Okay,” Gibbons replies with disbelief.

“Okay?”Is that all you can say, okay?” Trish asks, trying not to show her fear.

Gibbons leans back into his chair, adjusts his glasses, and sighs.

“Okay, so Zaryah is my daughter? You should have told me. But it’s okay, you had your reasons. I will help you raise our daughter,” Gibbons calmly replies.

He looks at Zaryah then back to Trish.

“Well, I am glad that the cards are out on the table. But could you please let our daughter go to her room please?” he asked.

Trish complies and takes Zaryah to her playroom to keep their conversation private, Gibbons closely follows.

The doorbell rings. Trish looks at Gibbons,

“Please excuse me. Can you keep an eye on Zaryah while I go to the door?” she asks.

“Yeah sure,” Gibbons smiles.

DISGUISE

When Trish opened the door, she found a young woman with long black hair, nut-brown skin complexion, almond-shaped eyes that were dark brown, and a round square face with a small nose; the Succubi in human disguise.

“Satrina,” Trish says, feeling apprehensive.

“Madam, I am here as you requested,” Satrina says as she enters the dwelling.

“Of course, follow me,” Trish says.

Trish leads Satrina to Zaryah’s playroom. Gibbons turns and sees the woman,

“Gibbons, this is Satrina, Zaryah’s babysitter.”

Gibbons shakes hands with Satrina, and she gives him a strong handshake.

“You got some grip on their young lady,” Gibbons says, opening and closing his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Satrina says,

Satrina passes Gibbons and Trish, and picks Zaryah up into her arms,

“You know Gibbons; Zaryah looks a lot like you,” she says with a smile.

Gibbons forced a laugh.

“Yes I see that, and I just learned today that I have a daughter,” he says.

Satrina glances at Zaryah’s mother,

“Trish, so is he intending to stay here?” she asks.

Trish glances at Gibbons,

“No, I will be staying at the local Inn,” Gibbons replies.

Trish interrupts.

“Okay, Satrina, I’ll be home around ten tonight. I will be at the lab if there is anything you need.

“As you wish madam,” Satrina says.

Her eyes light up with a red glow as Trish and Gibbons walk out of the room. She sets Zaryah down and touches her forehead and says,

“Somnum”

The child falls asleep, as Satrina takes her true form. Her eyes smolder with sinister desires.

“Gibbons I will keep you busy for a while,” she says, staring at the sleeping child.

Inside the local town, Trish and Gibbons are at the science laboratory, running tests on Trish’s Sigil stone,

“The stone that you sent me. I accidentally unlocked its power source with my lasers and brought forth a creature from the spirit world known as Arachne which is a half-spider and half woman. She made herself known as the Spider Queen and she almost killed me!” Gibbons recounts, with concern.

“Why are you telling me this?” Trish asks with a bit of annoyance.

“Because I am wondering what creature you have brought forth and the other potent forces that may be associated with this Sigil stone,” he says in a grim tone.

“Gibbons, there are no such things, and now you know why we are not together. Because you are a nincompoop that believes in fairy tales and I don’t,” she says with a smile.

“Wow, you sound like someone I know,” he says with a bit of humor.

“Oh, so you’re involved with another woman I see,” Trish plays coy.

“No, my heart only belongs to one; I still hope she finds a place in her heart for me,” Gibbons says,

Trish feels a bit uncomfortable; she responds with sarcasm.

“Well we don’t have time; our careers are more important, remember?” she replies.

She dives back into her work. Gibbons looks at the Sigil stone and sees an image of an eye drop with a peace symbol with horns on the stone.

“I am preparing to translate this stone,” he says as he sits at a desk with a computer.

“Whatever makes you happy, Gibbons,” Trish says with a bit of coldness.

“You know Trish, we don’t need to be enemies. We all did stupid things when we were young. I regret saying those words to you,” he apologizes.

Trish ignores him as they continue their work. Gibbons sees the symbol of the infernal succubi on the computer, matching the marks on the Sigil stone. He scans it with his Hologram device. He slumps in his chair with deep concern.

“Trish, when did you meet this Satrina?” he asks.

“About six months ago when I almost blew myself up with a laser experiment. Why do you ask?” she questions.

“I am not able to say at this time, but I am going to call a friend. I will be back soon,” Gibbons says as he walks out of the laboratory. A smile spreads across Trisha’s face as she continues her work.

Gibbons is walking the local streets when he comes to a Hologram booth to make a call. He sees the local “NEWSPAPER”, at a News Stand; on the front of the page he sees images of six mummified males. He picks up and reads the bylines.

“In the last six months, six young men in their twenties have been found dead in their beds, looking like mummies. Authorities are baffled and doctors are confused, stating that their life essences have been drained. Is this a new virus or some kind of chemical warfare we are facing?”

Gibbons looks at the markings on his holophone. He enters the Hologram Booth and plugs his device into the hologram window. It opens and he pushes a button that dials out.

THE CALL

Meanwhile at the Antique shop in Areth, Maya is entertaining an elderly woman in her seventies, who spots the Diamond Panther Bracelet on display.

“Young lady, how much is this particular item?” asks the elderly customer.

Maya looks at the item and pulls it out of its handcrafted box. She checks the computer for the price, along with the history of the item as it is the custom to do so.

“Madam, this is a unique and limited item,” Maya remarks with disbelief. The elderly lady stares at the bracelet.

“My dear young lady, please indulge me about this bracelet,” she persuades. Maya seems visibly excited.

“Okay, as you wish. According to the jewelry appraisal, its ten billion credits,” Maya says with disbelief.

The elderly lady looks at Maya with a surprised look.

“Oh, my, what’s the history of the bracelet that makes it so expensive?” she asks.

“According to our records the Windsor Duchess and King Edward VIII married in 1937, the people were not pleased that a duke was marrying a woman who was divorced.

He was willing to give up his crown in order to marry her. However, since that wasn’t necessary, he wanted to present her with a very special gift as a token of his affections.

He commissioned a unique bracelet made from black and white diamonds. It was fashioned into the shape of a long, sprawled-out jaguar with emeralds for its eyes.

At the time of its commission, it cost 7 million credits to make. Nearly 100 years later, the bracelet is now worth ten billion credits, because it’s one of a kind; there are no others besides this,” Maya explains.

The elderly lady steps away from the counter she paces back and forth, appearing to be in serious contemplation.

“Oh, my, that is a bit pricey,” she says.

Maya put the bracelet back in its beautiful box.

“But nevertheless, I will purchase it,” says the elderly lady.

She pulls her credit card out from her handbag. Maya’s mouth drops as she takes the card and clears the purchase transaction. The elderly lady leaves the antique shop, smiling.

“Good day madam,” Maya says as the elderly lady trundles out of the shop.

Maya’s hologram- watch rings she turns it on and Gibbons appears in a 3D hologram.

“Maya, this is Gibbons,” he walks through the formalities.

“Yes I can see that, and you’re still alive, professor. Six months we haven’t heard or seen from you,” Maya says with an attitude.

My apologies, Maya, but I have been busy with the political issues of the Nations, which required patience in negotiations so that we would not blow up.” Gibbons explains.

“So that is the reason why you left us. You left me stranded, not knowing what to do, while Azrael battled with quite a few demonic entities. Is that what I’m trying to understand?” Maya questions.

“Maya we all have our own responsibilities to take care of. Azrael is quite capable of taking care of all this stuff without me. You are a fast learner; I had no worries about you two working together in my absence. So anything new happened while I was abroad?” Gibbons changed the subject.

Maya smiles, and with her sarcastic attitude, she blurts it out,

“While you were busy with political things, Azrael and I got married.”

Gibbons mouth drops, as a look of surprise washes over his face.

“You got married to Azrael? I thought you did not like the guy,” Gibbons says in a surprised tone.

Maya blushes,

“Well in truth, he kind of grows on you. He’s saved my life quite a few times, from a werewolf, a Wendigo, Chupacabraa, and a few other creatures I do not know how to pronounce.

But we had a very short honeymoon when we had to deal with some mermaids, on our “Nation Tour Cruise”. And I tell you the truth they’re not pretty at all; they are really vicious cannibalistic creatures.

This world has a lot of strange things I never thought I would see in my lifetime.

But I just want to say thank you, Professor, for opening my eyes to a world of insanity, but yet out of this craziness, I found the man who can take care of me and I thank you for giving me this opportunity,” Maya says, subdued.

Gibbons stood there, dumbfounded after seeing Maya’s happy face for the first time.

“Well, I’m glad that everything is working out between you two. Not what I expected, but I’m happy for you. I really am,” Gibbons says.

“Okay Professor, enough of the small talk, why did you really call?” Maya asks with a knowing smile.

“Remember the Sigil stone?” Gibbons asks.

“How can I not forget that?” That was a nightmare,” she says.

Gibbons looks at his watch.

“Well Trish, an old friend of mine, has one, and I believe that she released a Succubi into our world,” Gibbons expresses his worries.

“I take it that this is not pleasant?” Maya says, stating the obvious.

“I am in Mysia, and I fear that Trish is under some spell from this creature, and my daughter, as well,” he says.

Maya’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Did you just say you have a child?” she asks unrestrainedly.

“A matter of fact, yes I did. She was a surprise to me as well,” he says.

“Wow, look at us. Our lives are full of surprises,” Maya says with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry professor. We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Maya says.

Gibbons comes close to his camera,

“Where is Azrael?” he asks.

“On a mission tracking down a shape-shifter who’s dealing in the black market of weaponry,” she explains.

“That doesn’t sound very promising. However, make sure he gets the message and meets with me as soon as possible. I will be investigating the local deaths to determine if this is a Succubi or we are dealing with some kind of virus. Gibbons out.”

They hang up and Gibbons exits the Holo booth and heads back to the laboratory.

SHAPE SHIFTER

Meanwhile, in the city of Koresh, Azrael stands in an alley across the street from the Warehouse District. Scanning the area with his X-Ray HUD, he’s able to see through the warehouse walls. He sees six mercenaries representing six different nations. The War Machine is a Merkava Mk XI tank.

“That’s one massive machine,” he says to himself.

He shuts off his HUD and activates his ear communication device.

“General Nimrod do you read, your suspects are in position. Copy, General, do you copy?” he asks.

He heard nothing over his earpiece but static.

“This isn’t acceptable,” Azrael complains under his breath.

The screen shows a blip of a supernatural creature.

“Damn it’s the Bagat. That imp! He must have gotten the General,” he realizes as he switches off his arm guard.

Moving stealthily across the street, he leaps into the air and lands on top of the hangar roof. He moves into position over the skylight.

Inside the warehouse, General Nimrod’s head is found in the hands of the Bagat. Its eyes glow with power as it looks into the General’s dead eyes. It then shape-shifts itself into General Nimrod, who walks over the dead body of the general and drops his head next to his body, as he steps out of the area. The mercenaries are looking over the tank. A short stout businessman enters the hangar.

“Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?” he says, getting the mercenaries’ attention.

The businessman adjusts his glasses, pulls out a small device that looks like a hockey puck, drops it, and it transforms into a platform. Push a button, and a HUD opens up, showing the Merkava Mk XI War Machine Battle Tank specs!

A voice of a female is heard as it flashes images of the tank,

“Merkava Mk XI War Machine is an Armor Classified composite sloped Armor modular design, fitted with a trophy active protection system.

Mass: 130 Tons

Length: 59.4ft

Gun Barrel: Double Decker 1 Main gun: 49.8 ft

1 Secondary gun: 24.9ft

2 Aft Guns: 12.45ft

2 Bow Guns” 12:45ft

3 Bow Laser Cannon: 3 Port laser Cannon

3 Starboard Laser Cannon:16 Rocket Launchers: Payload 64

Width: 24.4 ft

Height: 17.14 ft to main turret roof

Crew Capacity: 8 commander, driver, gunners and loaders

Passengers Capacity: Maximum 12 passengers Engine Power”2 Nuclear Fusion Engine 2,500hp turbo charged solar.”

The Mercenaries are impressed with the specs. The businessman mutes the AI voice, leaving the imagery flashing before their eyes.

“This beautiful machine is the biggest and hottest thing on the black market today. But there’s only three that have been commissioned for service so we’re going to start the bidding at 1 billion credits,” the businessman says.

General Nimrod takes a laser rifle from the armory and enters into the hangar, interrupting the bids,

“This Beast of a machine is mine, you Mortal fools will suffer greatly,” says the Genera, mumbling under his breath.

Zombie-like, he whips out his weapon, opens fire on everyone and kills them all. He drops the laser rifle and morphs back into his original form, the Bagat. He takes hold of the soul crystal, from thought to hand, and absorbs the souls of the dead.

“That’s all she wants,” he said as he finished, leaving the dead drained and absorbed. “I’ll give the mistress what she wants, and for my payment, this handsome beast.”

Meanwhile, Azrael comes crashing through the skylights, landing on top of a tank; with Brimstone in hand, he targets the demon.

“This is the end of the line for you, Bagat,” he says, with tenacity, as he cocks his weapon.

“Wait before you blow me away, Holy Soldier. Don’t you want to know who sent me?” the Bagat questions with a tease.

Azrael keeps his target in view.

“I’m listening,” he says.

“The one who sent me is the beginning of the downfall of humanity, and she is the seductress of the night,” Bagat says in riddles.

Bagat vanishes in a puff of smoke, and Azrael takes up a defensive position.

“This can’t be right,” he said surveying the area.

The tank comes to life, its Turret moving and knocking Azrael off. Bagat, sits in the driver’s seat steering the tank, as he accelerates by twisting a handle grip throttle.

“Now, I shall crush you warrior!” Bagat is giggling like an idiot.

The tank breaches through the building, Azrael barely gets out of its way. Bagat targets Azrael and opens fire.

“There’s no escaping me, so be a responsible fellow and die,” laughed Bagat.

Azrael swiftly runs, avoiding the showers of bullets from the tank, Bagat fires the turret guns, blowing up some buildings around Azrael. He continues to fire and misses his target like a poor marksman, losing sight of his target,

“Now where did he go?” he whispered aloud, feeling panicky.

Bagat feels the tank overturning.

“Oh crap, what’s happening? This is impossible!” he screams.

Azrael overturns the tank with the power of Yahuah.

“Yahuah Sovereign Father, strengthen me, El Slai,” Azrael says as he overturns the machine.

Bagat barely escapes from the collision.

It opens its wings, taking to the sky, but finds itself in the hands of its adversary.

“Stay away from me you freaking weirdo,” cries out the Imp, as he tries to free himself from Azrael’s grip.

“Get your hands off of me,” he continues to fight and scream.

“Okay. I will be merciful,” Azrael says, letting him go.

The Bagat takes to the sky, flying like a bat out of hell to escape. Azrael takes brimstone.

“Yeshua Ligor Ikem, Bagat,” he softly says, pulling the trigger.

The echo of a gunshot is heard. The Bagat’s eyes open wide from the shock of the bullet, penetrating its thick hide. The imp disintegrates to dust, its soul absorbed by Brimstone recharging itself.

The soul crystal drops before Azrael’s feet. He picks it up as he sheaths his gun.

”What is it?” he asked himself.

He sees the souls of the men from the warehouse inside the crystal.

“Must be some kind of soul crystal?” he realizes, as he puts it into his pouch.

“I’ll pass this to Gibbons to figure out,” he says to himself.

His communication device is activated from his arm guard. Maya appears on his HUD.

“Did I catch you at a terrible time, my dear?” she asks.“I just finished killing an imp, so what do you need?” Azrael answers.

“Nothing. We need to meet Gibbons in Mysia. There is a possibility of a supernatural threat. He thinks it’s a Succubus, he’s not sure.

So I did a little digging of my own in the last six months. Six young men in their twenties were physically drained looking like mummies,” Maya explains.

“Understood. I’ll meet you there in three days, Maya. I need to stop by a local area where a cult leader is sacrificing homeless people through a disintegrating technology,” Azrael explains.

“Please be careful, and remember, I do love you, “Maya says as she turns off her hologram.

“Love you too,” Azrael says.

He briskly moves down the alley, jumping onto Spirit, and riding off into the night.

DICTATOR

Netherrath, a small wasteland of a town with engineering wonders, is a shelter for radiation fallout; it is a place where the elderly, the homeless, and the sick are brought from the cities to live out their final days.

An army of Zealots known as the “EYE” controlled by their religious leader Mephistopheles, a fallen Mal’akh who calls himself by the name Mephisto, in his human form, is seen. He looks like a movie actor, with a robotic arm, a patched eye and a laser. He is the technical guru of Netherrath.

Mephisto sits in front of his computer screen, monitoring his stronghold with CCTV surveillance. He pushes a button and an image of General Nero appears on the monitor. He’s a brutish, crudely built man. With a brown beret, he’s the commanding officer of Mephistopheles’ zealots.

“General report on the harvest?” Mephisto asks.

“My liege, we are at the final completion. We are still hunting down Colonel Marcus,” Nero reports.

Mephisto sees Colonel Marcus’s son, who is running toward the borders of the region from another monitor.

“I see we have a runaway. General Nero. I want this Colonel alive. I am obligated to use him as an example along with his runaway son, that no one escapes the “EYE” of Mephisto,” he proudly and boastfully commands.

“Yes my liege. Nero out,” Nero says as he shuts off his HUD.

Mephisto switches on his three cyber dogs. They are sleek with red eyes; he stands and approaches them, feeding them data on the runway.

“Cerberus, bring me that male child who is running to escape my prison,” he commands.

The three Cyber dogs function as a single unit as they turn and follow their master. Mephisto sits and watches through the eyes of the Cyber dogs. A tank leads a marching platoon of zealots, who forcefully gather the local pedestrians into military vehicles, within the decrepit town of Netherrath. Nero speaks through the tank’s intercom.

“Colonel Marcus, come out, face your punishment like a man, and I promise no harm will come to your child when we capture him,” proclaims the General.

Inside the abandoned church is Colonel Marcus. The man is dressed in military clothes and hiding from the “Eye”. He conceals himself under the old guardian statue, as he cocks his laser rifle. Coming out of the building, he shoots a few of the Zealot soldiers down. Nero stops and climbs down from his tank.

“Soldier, why are you doing this?” Nero asks the Colonel.

“Who gives us the right to murder these people, and keep them here in this infested prison you call home, to serve a faults prophet?” the Colonel replies.

Nero motions a hand gesture; his zealots circle the Colonel with weapons, cocked and ready.

“This prophet you call false is a god, and he has kept us alive for a decade, and this is the gratitude you give?” Nero asks.

“Mephistopheles is no god, and he has no right to murder these people that have done nothing wrong, and I want his head for killing my wife,” the Colonel says with a tone of deep bitterness.

“So this is what it is about, vengeance. Your wife was killed out of an act of mercy, your son will be captured by the end of the day, you will be punished for your crimes against Mephisto at the FEMA camp along with your son,” Nero says.

Nero gives the order for his soldiers to open fire. After shooting the Colonel with their stun guns, they bound him up and threw him in their prison vehicle. The vehicle then drove to their destination, a FEMA camp.

Feet pounding, heart racing, heavy breathing, Kyle a fourteen-year-old boy is running for his life as Cerberus closes in for the kill. Kyle ducks into an alleyway and he comes to a dead-end; the three Cyber dogs slowly move in cornering the boy to a wall. The voice of Mephisto speaks through the cyber dogs.

“Wherever you turn. You can’t run away from me, you son of a gun, no matter where you go,” Mephisto utters, through the dog.

Kyle scoops up some heavy stones and throws them at the Cyber dogs.

“Stay away from me,” Kyle yells.

With the sound of thunder, the left Cyber dog exploded. Kyle and the two Cyber dogs see Azrael with a smoking gun, in the distance.

“Do not fear kid,” Azrael says as he shoots the second Cyber dog. It explodes.

Mephistopheles watches on the monitors and is taken by Azrael,

“Who the hell is this guy?” he asks, awed.

He does facial recognition, but his computers are unable to identify him. He dispatches drones to capture Azrael and the boy, and he presses a button for the third Cyber dog to attack.

The third Cyber dog leaps into the air at Azrael, but in a matter of moments the Cyber dog is torn to bits in the hands of Azrael. Kyle is awe-struck, having witnessed what the Warrior of Elohim has done.

Cyber dog parts lay discarded at Azrael’s feet. Suddenly, with sparks, four drones circled Azrael and Kyle.

“Hey mister, why not tear those things apart and let’s get out of here,” Kyle says.

“Love to, kid, but I have a mission I must complete first” Azrael says.

“Getting captured is the mission?” Kyle asks.

“No, it’s the plan,” Azrael replies.

Kyle complains, “Some plan, I just got away.”

“Don’t worry. Come tomorrow you will be free, along with all the people here,” Azrael says, giving Kyle some hope.

However, at this point, the Drones land and zealot soldiers surround Azrael and Kyle. They forcefully take Azrael’s weapons and they are hauled off to the FEMA camp.

The following morning, General Nero and his zealot soldiers gather the people in the central part of the FEMA camp, in the center camp, there is a considerably large container with control switches connected to the device, when Mephisto steps out in a grandiose attire.

“Citizen of Netherrath, I am your god, and today we have selected a number of citizens for our yearly sacrifice. Their death will ensure your survival for the next year.” boasts Mephisto, with a pompous air.

The citizens all stay silent, giving an awkward feel in the ambience. General Nero, brings Azrael out in chains, along with the Colonel and his son Kyle.

“For all of you who think you can escape me or outsmart me, these three who are bound before you today, will begin our celebration, for they tried to escape. Let this be a reminder that no one can escape my region nor my reign,” Mephisto says.

Mephisto glances at General Nero.

“Put that stranger into the disintegration chamber,” he commands.

Mephisto looks down on Azrael from his seat of authority.

“Any last words stranger?”

Azrael looks up, and eyes this fallen Mal’akh who is in disguise as a man,

“Everyone here is dull-hearted, without knowledge; every metal smith is put to shame by their carved images; for their molded images is falsehood, and there is no breath in these dumb idols.

These Idols are futile, a work of errors; in the time of their punishment, they will perish. The Portion of Yaakov is not like them, For Yahuah is the maker of all things; and Yisra’el is the tribe of His inheritance.

Yahuah Tzevaot, is His name. Know it well, Mephistopheles. Behold, he raises me up against you, against those under your power who dwell in Netherrath. I am the destroying wind; this day is the day of your doom,” Azrael proclaims.

Mephistopheles agitated from Azrael whom he had captured.

“I have enough amusement for one day. Put charlatan into the chamber,” laughs Mephisto

General Nero pushes Azrael,

“Move it this is your death sentence,” growls Nero,

He pushed Azrael a second time, but couldn’t budge him. Azrael looks at the General,

“You have no power over me unless I allow it,” Azrael declared.

Nero feels nervous, Azrael turns and heads for the Disintegration Chamber, Nero closely follows like he is escorting Azrael. Azrael steps into the chamber, Nero closes it and throws the switches; all that can be heard is a humming noise. Then the noise stops.

“Open it,” Mephisto commands.

General Nero slowly opens the chamber; a gasp of surprise and an awe of wonder appears in General Neor’s eyes.

“Impossible,” he gasps.

The onlookers are amazed. Mephisto perspires with fear, as they all see Azrael standing, free, with no chains to bind him. Our hero steps out of the chamber and fixes his eyes on Mephisto.

“This is the end of the line, Mephistopheles. In the name of Yeshua HaMashiach, show your true nature. Your illusion of light is over.”

At that moment, Mephisto’s facade fades, revealing his true fallen nature of Mephistopheles. The sky turns dark; heavy winds pick up, blowing down the zealots, overturning their tanks and their vehicles. The citizens scream as they run away for cover.

General Nero attacks Azrael who quickly puts him down with a combination technique, rendering him out cold. Azrael then takes his weapons back, tearing the disintegration chamber out of the ground, throwing it at Mephistopheles, who catches it and throws it aside.

“What are you?” Mephistopheles cries out.

“I am the word of Yeshua; I am the sword of Yahuah; I am your doom,” Azrael declares.

Azrael leaps into the air, taking Brimstone, and shoots Mephistopheles between the eyes .He comes down with his sword, slicing off his head. He lands, spins around with a back kick, throwing Mephistopheles’ body across the camp as it incinerates to dust,

“Yeshua Ligor Ikem, Mephistopheles,” Azrael yells.

Brimstone absorbs Mephistopheles’ essence as he sheaths his gun. The winds dissipate, and the darkness fades as the new day arises, Azrael breaks Colonel Marcus’ and his son Kyle’s chains.

“Today Marcus Yahuah has given you Netherrath. Learn to do well: seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.

But let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. When justice is done, it is a joyful moment to the righteous but terror to the selfish,” Azrael quotes.

He then turns and walks away, leaving the area. Marcus takes the seat of power, with his son at his right side. General Nero awakes and finds himself bound; the zealot soldiers bring him before Marcus.

“General Nero, you are stricken from all authority, but you must show that you are a man of honor. If you do, I promise you will not lose even a single hair from your head. But if you do anything wrong, you will die,” Marcus commands.

General Nero bows before Marcus begging for his mercy; Marcus waves his hands; his soldiers stand in position.

“Nero, go home,” says Marcus.

Nero stands up, leaves the king’s side and departs.

SUCCUBUS

Gibbons and Trish are at the local morgue examining a fresh corpse.

“This is the seventh male in the seventh month,” Trish says.

Gibbons continues studying tissue samples under a microscope.

“The blood of this victim has been boiled dry,” Gibbons expresses.

“What would cause a man’s blood to boil hot?” Trish, totally flummoxed.

Gibbons looks at Trish and grins.

“That is easy to answer-- sexual interest,” he says, continuing to examine the dead cells.

He sees an anomaly in the dead tissue he has extracted from another tool and puts it into an analyzer. The computer processes and breaks them down into components.

Trish looks over Gibbons’ shoulder and sees the output reading.

“Pheromones?” Trish questions.

“Whatever happened to this old chap, the pheromones were injected into his bloodstream through intercourse,” Gibbons concludes.

“So how does the pheromones cause a man’s blood to boil dry?” Trish continues to question.

“Nothing in this world can do it, but it’s definitely a supernatural creature involved with this whole thing and I bet you my life that it’s a Succubi,” Gibbons says, looking at the Sigil Stone.

Trish huffs with disbelief.

“Gibbons, why do you always try to find ways to connect the unknown answers to a supernatural event?” she questions him.

“Trish, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” he says.

“Maybe if you would open your mind to the possibilities, you wouldn’t be so skeptical and difficult,” he continues his argument.

Trish, feeling insulted, walks out of the door. Gibbons, feeling bad for his remarks, goes after her.

“Trish, hold on,” he says, trying to catch up to her.

Gibbons finally catches up with her.

“What’s going on with you Trish? You know we’ve always had our little spats, but we always played it out. You’re not yourself,” he says to her.

“What would you know, you’ve never been around; you’ve been gone for over five years, and you expect me to say “hey welcome back honey”?” she sarcastically remarks.

“It’s that Satrina girl, isn’t it? She’s gotcha under some kind of spell,” Gibbons realizes.

“As the father of our child, I am forbidding you to have that woman around. You’re not to have her in your house,” Gibbons speaks with his authority.

Trish slaps Gibbons in the face.

“You are to stay away from me and our child. Do not come near me. You have no right. You’re not my husband. If you come near me, I will kill you,” she threatens as she runs off.

Gibbons scratches his head.

“Women, can’t live with them and can’t kill them,” he jokes to himself.

Later that evening, Trish arrives at her home. She enters and Satrina is playing with Zaryah in the living room. Satrina notices that she’s struggling to break free from her spell. She greets her with a fake smile.

“Let me guess, is Gibbons correct?” she questions.

“Not only has he insulted me, he demanded that I kick you out of my home, and that you stay away from me and my daughter,” Trish angrily grumbles.

Satrina puts her arm around her to comfort her.

“It’s alright dear, he’s just looking out for your welfare and that of his daughter,” Satrina says with a hidden agenda.

“How can I Satrina, you have been so kind to me and Zaryah” Trish explains emotionally.

Satrina smiles and gives Trish another hug. Her eyes glowing brightly and putting Trish back under her spell,

“Everything is going to be okay, I promise you that. Don’t worry my friend. I will talk to Gibbons for you,” she says as she sashays out of the door.

The evening is unusually warm. Gibbons is tossing and turning in his sleep as a heaviness settles in the atmosphere. Satrina appears partly through the shadows in her true form.

“Time to see who you really are, Gibbons,” she says, blowing pheromone dust into the air.

Gibbons breathes it in. His dreams become erotic. Satrina slowly moves over to Gibbons. She climbs onto his bed and straddles him; she opens her wings wide, wraps her tail around his neck slowly, squeezing the life out of him.

“Oh, yes that’s all she wants,” she seductively says aloud.

Satrina’s eyes are glowing, as she moves her hands up and over his chest and around his head, consuming his energy. Gibbons struggles in his flesh, finding it difficult to breathe as his soul cries out.

“Yeshua Nozef Bekha,” he yelled, waking up.

A shock wave throws Satrina off of him. She slams against the far wall of the room, and slumps to the floor with the wind knocked out of her. She opens her eyes. Gibbons is standing over her. She slowly climbs back to her feet.

“You’re not supposed to know those words,” she says.

“Perhaps in your book,” he replies.

Satrina snarls at Gibbons.

“Nevertheless you cannot stop me,” she declares.

“Perhaps you’re right, but there are two who can, but for the meantime, get out of my sight!” he commands,

Satrina hisses, growls and vanishes from the night.

Standing on the rooftop in the center of town, Satrina’s jewel from her arm-guard lights up with a hologram image of Kezef, a human-like being with a small body compared to the Malakhim; with smooth gray skin, enlarged hairless head; and large black eyes.

A human-like being with a small body compared to the Malakhim, with smooth gray skin; enlarged hairless heads; and large black eyes.

“How’s the testing going, Satrina?” questions Grigori.

“Unknown, for my servant, the Bagat has not reported in,” Satrina replies.

“Nevertheless the great deception is about to begin: every human being will know that we belong and they will obey us without conflict because they believe we are their only hope for their salvation,” Kezef proudly informs.

“What of the Prince of the Air? He’s not going to be too happy to hear that you, Grigori, have returned from your imprisonment.” Satrina says.

“You have no need to fear, my dear. He’s too busy in the eastern part of Adamah trying to gain control over the holy city,” Kezef says with confidence.

“Kezef, why the sudden arrival?” Satrina asks.

“We have found Venus, the Queen of Heaven, who will destroy the Prince of the Air’s kingdom and help us to destroy Humanity before the great judgment. As we were imprisoned they will feel what we felt,” he proudly says.

“What about the Holy Ones of Shamayim?” Satrina asks with fear.

“Surprisingly they gave us their permission to do as we please,” Kezef says.

“Why?” asked Satrina.

“Apparently Humanity has denied their true Salvation in the Son of the Most High, indulging themselves with their lust for power and pleasures. Not that Yahuah cannot save, but they chose to deny Him, and in turn condemn themselves,” Kezef explains.

“What are your orders, my lord?” questions Satrina.

Get back that soul Crystal. Open a portal for us, you have three days. Kezef out,” he says.

Kezef laughs, as the hologram shuts off. Satrina looks over the horizon of the city. She picks up a scent.

“A Nevi, a Warrior of Shamayim, here and now?” she questions aloud, with fear in her tone.

She unfurls her wings and takes to the skies.

ABDUCTION

The following morning in the local town area, at the Summit Diner, a vintage of the nineteen twenties, which is what the locals would call the “LUNCH CART,” is a subway cart designed to be a restaurant. Inside it is a casual atmosphere with a long sit-down counter with direct service, in the simplest way, with the cook and the waitress. Gibbons is enjoying his breakfast as the local customers sit around, chatting with one another as they enjoy their food.

Azrael and Maya walk into the diner and the folks inside go quiet seeing a seven-foot man in armor, with his petite woman in battle gear. One of the customer’s blurts out,

“What’s this, the circus in town?”

Maya darts her eyes at the gentleman who spoke. He shyly turns away and focuses on consuming his food. Azrael ignores the remarks and sits next to Gibbons, while Maya sits on the opposite side of Gibbons.

“Hi Professor,” Maya says.

She takes the coffee from the waitress who serves her.

“It’s good to see you, Maya; you’re looking well,” Gibbons says, sipping on his coffee.

“Thanks, Professor,” Maya says, sipping on her beverage.”

“I hear you have a child,” Azrael says to Gibbons as he sips on his coffee.

“Yes, I do,” Gibbons replies with pride.

“And congratulations on tying the knot,” Gibbons laughs.

Maya glances at Gibbons.

“Okay Professor, we’re here,” Maya says as she continues sipping on her coffee.

“Yes, of course. We’re dealing with Succubi,” Gibbons says.

“Are you sure?” Azrael questions.

“Of course I’m sure. She attacked me last night and almost killed me,” Gibbons expressed.

“So where do you think she is now?” Maya inputs.

“Most likely with Trish and Zaryah” Gibbons answers.

“Then let’s go and pay a visit to Trish and this creature of yours,” Azrael says standing up.

Maya and Gibbons do the same and the three walk out of the diner.

Later… Azrael, Gibbons, and Maya stand outside of Trish’s house. Her front door is shattered to pieces, and part of the wall has crumbled in. Gibbons is beside himself with anxiety.

“Trish, Zaryah,” he shouts.

Azrael, and Maya quickly run up the stairs and hug themselves on the opposite side of the doorway. They draw their weapons. Maya goes in first, ready to shoot at anything that moves. Azrael soon follows.

Azrael peeks his head out the door.

“Gibbons, this is where you are supposed to follow me,” Azrael says with light humor.

Gibbons follows, and the house is in disarray: turned upside down, with broken furniture, Trish is lying on the floor unconscious. Gibbons rushes to her to see if she is still alive. He checks her pulse.

“Oh thank goodness, she is still alive,” Gibbons says, feeling relieved.

“Maya, check upstairs to see if Zaryah’s okay,” he asks.

Maya runs up to the second floor. She finds Zaryah’s bedroom torn apart with a huge hole in the backside of the wall.

Gibbons wakes Trish gently, tapping her face,

“Trish, wake up; come on baby wake up,” he says.

Trish opens her eyes. She sees Gibbons. He helps her back to her feet,

“What has happened?” Gibbons asks.

Before Trish could say anything, Maya called out from upstairs.

“Guys, I think you better get up here,” she says with urgency.

Azrael, Gibbons, and Trish make their way to Zaryah’s playroom and see the huge hole in the back wall. Trish looks at Gibbons.

“Now I remember,” she says in a grim tone.

“It was a huge white hairy beast that took our daughter,” she continues to say.

Maya finds a hologram Cube and activates it, the image of Satrina is seen on the Hologram.

“Trish, Gibbons please forgive me for not being there physically at this time. I know you have a Nevi among you. If you value the life of your child, you will have this Nevi. Bring me my soul crystal, or my troll will have a snack tonight. You have until sundown,” she threatens.

Satrina shows them the location on a map.

“Outside of this town, there is a forest with a cave.
This is where you will find Zaryah,” the holocube shuts down. The four look at each other for a moment,

“What is she talking about?” Gibbons asks aloud.

“I believe she’s talking about this,” Azrael says,

He pulls out the soul crystal from his belt pouch.

“Where did you get that?” Trish asks.

“Off an Imp,” Azrael says as he looks at Gibbons.

“What are you going to do?” Trish asks.

“I’m going to kill those creatures and save your daughter,” Azrael says

His eyes ignited into flames.

“We have an hour before sundown. How are you going to get there in time?” Maya asks with concern.

Azrael closes his eyes, folds his hands in a prayer position; he bends his head.

“Yah Ruach Masa,” he says,

Azrael vanishes.

Gibbons scratches his head.

“A new ability?” he questions as he looks at Maya.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen this,” she says in confusion.

“So these are your friends?” Trish questions.

Gibbons smiles and then hugs her.

“Yes they are my dear,” he says.

Azrael appears before the mouth of the cave in the forest of Myisis.

“Why do these creatures like dwelling in caves, like alligators in sewers?” he sarcastically remarks to himself.

He enters into the cave and emerges into a vast mammoth area. The fog covers the damp ground, decayed animals lying about. He cautiously moves about, and is suddenly attacked by a fifteen foot white haired troll. The beast knocks him across the cave, but he lands back to his feet.

“Nice move, hairy,” Azrael remarks.

The Troll charges at Azrael. He maneuvers out of its way, slicing the creature with his elbow blades. Then he quickly draws his sword, leaps into the air, as the Troll turns back around charging him like a wild bull, Azrael plunges his sword into the skull of the beast, rendering it dead.

Then he turns and is face to face with Satrina who is holding Zaryah by the hand.

“You’ve made it and you managed to kill my pet,” she says, not amused at all.

Azrael moves toward her, as she grabs the child by the throat.

“Back off or she dies; now drop your weapons,” she demands.

Azrael complies.

“Now what?” he asks.

“If you value the life of this child, give me my soul crystal” she demands.

Azrael reaches into his belt pouch, pulls it out, and tosses it to her. She catches it and cracks a sinister grin.

“Now, let the child go,” Azrael commands.

Satrina opens her wings and laughs and then she tosses Zaryah into the air.

“You want her, catch,” she says,

No sooner has she said this, than she vanishes. Zaryah is thrown in the air. Azrael leaps, catching Zaryah,

“Gotcha,” he says, landing safely on his feet.

Azrael puts Zaryah back to her feet as he collects his weapons, before he picks Zaryah up into his arms,

“Let’s get you home, little one,” he says as he exits the cave.

Satrina drops in on the top of the radio tower. She removes the soul crystal.

“Okay Kezef, here is your doorway,” she says.

She places the crystal into the control panel of the radio tower.

It’s showtime,” she says.

A beam of power shoots off, and she watches it shoot into the sky.

The beam connects with the firmament, opening windows of the sky. The Watchers emerge from the portals with flying vehicles.

The people of Adamah watch the phenomenon that takes place right before their very eyes. The Hologram Jewel on Satrina’s arm bracers is activated; Kezef is seen,

“Well done Satrina. This is good news for us that the nations are welcoming us with open arms. No one can oppose us at this time, once we crush the resistance forces of Adamah. They will be at our mercy,” he says with confidence.

Satrina laughs.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Kezef. There is a Nevi among us and he can spoil your plans,” Satrina warns.

Kezef’s eyes burn with hate.

“Then dispose of this minor inconvenience; do not return to me until it’s complete,” commands Kezef as he abruptly shuts off his screen.

Satrina unfurls her wings.

“As you command,” she says, taking to the sky.

Emerging out of the cave is Zaryah who is in the arms of Azrael. They see Maya, Gibbons, and Trish climbing out of the Dagonslayer,

“I see that you made it,” Azrael says,

He hands Zaryah back to Trish.

“Thank you,” Trish says, looking visibly relieved.

Maya and Gibbons approach Azrael.

“Where is the Succubi?” Gibbons asks.

“She got away with the soul crystal,” Azrael says.

“Why do you think she wanted Crystal so desperately?” Maya asks.

“Not totally sure, but I do know it absorbs energy from people, I bet it’s a key of some kind,” Gibbons realizes.

“Whatever it is, we’re about to find out,” Azrael says,

He points to the horizon of the town. Everybody sees the beam of light shooting into the sky. They also see flying vehicles emerging from the clouds,

“The great deception has begun,” Azrael says.

“Yeah, a new world order, “Gibbons smugly replies.

“What are we going to do now?” Maya asks.

Gibbons glances over to Trish and Zaryah and then back at Azrael and Maya.

“I think I’m not going to do anything. I resign,” Gibbons says.

Maya takes his news to heart.

“We need you, Professor. Look around you. We have spaceships coming from the sky, we have demons trying to control our lives, and we’ve got Devils running around. We need you,” she emotionally expresses.

Gibbons looks at Maya with compassion.

“Maya, I have a child to raise. My responsibility is to that woman and to that child,” he says.

Gibbons darts his eyes at Azrael.

“Azrael, you understand, don’t you?” he asks.

Azrael nodded his head.

“Maya, if anyone does not provide for his own, especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith and is more evil than an unbeliever.” Azrael supports Gibbons’ decision.

“Maya, please understand you have all my resources and everything you need to fight the good fight,” Gibbons added.

Azrael finds it hard to see his brother who has to go, but he knows it is Yahuah’s plan, so he takes a deep breath and turns to Gibbons.

“So where are you going, my old friend?” he asks.

“I think I’ll become a pastor to the city of El Auria to minister to the folks there,” Gibbons says with a heavy heart.

“A pastor, seriously, I don’t know Gibbons, you’re good with computers, electronics, and building odd things, but to lead a flock of souls is completely a whole new ballgame, but I do understand. You have my blessing, my brother if you ever need anything,” Azrael says with a sad heart.

“I know,” Gibbons says.

Azrael and Gibbons embrace with a warrior’s handshake,

“Gibbons, Yahuah bless you and keep you, Yahuah causes his face to shine on you. Yahuah, be gracious to you. Yahuah blesses you with His favor. Yahuah gives you Shalom,” Azrael says with his blessing.

Gibbons hands him a data crystal.

“Take this data crystal. Put this into Spirit’s computer console. “It’s her voice module in the AI system. I hope it gives you guidance in your darkest hours,” Gibbons says.

Azrael places the crystal into his belt pouch. He looks up to the sky, he sees Satrina coming in very quickly. He looks at Maya,

“Get everybody out of here now,” he commands.

Satrina swoops in and tackles Azrael and the two disappear through a portal.

Maya, is in disarray,

“What has just happened?” she yells.

Maya, let’s move,” Gibbons yells,

She quickly jumps into the Dagonslayer. With Gibbons, Trish, and Zaryah, she pushes the pedal to the metal, racing off as the f vehicles fly by shooting at everything they can.

Adamah’s Air Forces battle against the flying vehicles of the Watchers for a few hours. The Air Force lose their position as they feel the might of Kezef’s fallen Malakhim.

Azrael and Satrina emerge from the portal over the small town, Azrael crashes into the street, leaving a crater. Satrina lands, folding her wings and circling him, as he rises out of the pit.

“Why bother trying? It’s too late the world is changing and there is not a damn thing you can do about it,” she taunts arrogantly.

“There is one thing you are forgetting,” Azrael says,

“So what am I forgetting?” Satrina asks with sarcasm.

“The human spirit; our free will to choose, and today I chose to destroy you and give Praise to Yahuah and watch your kingdom burn,” Azrael declares.

“You Nevi’im are all alike using words that merely irritate: so confident, so proud, so arrogant, you’re just a man with a brief authority,” Satrina scorns.

“This is what Yahuah says. Don’t let the wise boast in their wisdom, or the powerful boast in their power, or the rich boast in their riches,” Azrael says.

Like a crazed animal, Satrina leaps into the air to attack our hero. He punches her, knocking her back a few feet. Satrina growls and lunges at him again. She hits him with a back fist, sending him across the street into an electrical box, sparks fly everywhere and blowing out the transformers of the neighborhood, causing a blackout.

Azrael shakes his head, and climbs back to his feet. Satrina relentlessly charges him like a wild beast with claws and tail. He maneuvered through her deadly strikes, in one fluid motion as he catches her tail, slices it off with his elbow blade, taking Brimstone and shouts,

“Yeshua Ligor Ikem Queen of the Succubus.” Azrael yells, pulling the trigger of Brimstone.

The sound of a gunshot, and the bullet plunges between the eyes of the Succubi. She disintegrates. He lands back to his feet, standing over her ashes. Brimstone absorbs her essence as he sheaths it.

“For her house sinks down to death, her paths to the departed none who go to her come back, nor do they regain the paths of life.” he says, as he walks into the chaotic storm from above.

EPILOGUE

Kezef and his Grigori overpowered the nations, with subtle power with illusions of force, flaunting their technology before the political and religious leaders. The religious leaders set declarations for their alien visitors for cohabitation with humans. The illusion that Yahuah set before the children of men came over them like a flood, because they refuse to act on his commandants.

Kezef and his Watchers led mankind into delusions of power; causing them to break away from the truth of Yahuah’s instructions of life; by giving them a new set of directions through their power of science.

It’s the eve of Christmas. Snow falls over the sleepless city. With their decorative lights, the trees in the central park area sparkle spectacularly. The streets are swarming with last-minute Christmas shoppers. On the streets of Coroners, street carolers sing and Santa rings bells. A nuclear explosion erupts over the skyline of the magnificent city. In less than an hour, the city was submerged in ash and smoke.

Several years later, humans are wandering aimlessly in the middle of a nuclear wasteland, a dead world. From out of the ashes rises Heyl’el the king of darkness, who falsely promises salvation to the living. Through his power, he transformed nations into high-tech societies and created a dark world.

The wickedness of the human race continually strengthened their masters the Fallen Malakhim. Cities dotted across adamah were shaped by a single tower looming over the horizon, surrounded by a sea of sand.

Ten years have passed since Azrael, Gibbons and Maya were a team, battling the forces of wickedness in high places. Adamah has taken on a drastically different face in the post-apocalyptic world, where man, demons, Malakhim and Nephilim have taken over political and religious power.

Heyl’el’s kingdom feels the fear of the wrath of Yahuah drawing nigh for the end of the seventh age of apostates. Power struggles within the ranks and acts of desperation take hold of the Satans of the Nations. In this way, most of the human population are enslaved and subjected to their tyranny.

But through Yahuah’s wisdom, He has sent warriors over Adamah, who will not follow the lawlessness of the nations, but they are steadfast in Yahuah’s instructions for life. The Warriors of Elohim defend life with the guidance of Shekinah, the spirit of wisdom. Their light shines in this darkness of heaven until Yeshua returns.

…THE ADVENTURES CONTINUES…