I wrote this story back in 2012. It was supposed to be a supernatural genre with a theme. It was one of the best stories I had written and I read it to a lot of people. I forgot about this tale, and on re-reading, I found it worthy of sharing with very minor edits. So this is the first part of my angels versus demons story.
Let me know what you think. Comment below and start the discussion. Do you believe that Angels and Demons can affect the way we think? Do you believe that God lets bad things happen to good people? What other questions do you have? I'd love to hear from you.
Theme: The Darkness will not overcome the Light
“Captain Darick, Sir?”
“What is it, Rogan?” I asked.
“You have orders to help John Morton, Sir.”
I glanced up at the angel in the doorway. “Send word that I will need six men.”
“Yes, Sir!” Rogan flew off, his wings carrying him faster than the speed of light. I instantly grabbed a heavy, leather-bound book from my desk, and began leafing through the pages.
“Where is it?” I asked no one in particular. Finally, I found what I was looking for, John Morton. I looked at the page summarizing the life of John Morton and found that he was a missionary in Afghanistan. He’ll need all the help we can give, I thought.
I closed the book tenderly, returned it to my desk, and grabbed my belt from its hook on the wall. I fastened my belt around my waist as I flew through the hallway leading to the portal. My belt had everything I needed to fight the enemy, and without it, I would be in big trouble.
I rolled over and groaned. My body ached and my eyes felt like lead. I worked hard to get them open; I couldn’t see anything when I did. Slowly, I shifted into a sitting position while my eyes tried to adjust. Nothing happened. I was surrounded by darkness, without one ray of light.
I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten for a long time, and my body knew it. It felt like the stomach acid was eating away at my insides, since it had nothing else to digest. I opened my mouth slowly, trying to massage my sore jaw.
I leaned my head back against the cold stone wall. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. The darkness, a suffocating blanket, completely consumed me, and I was terrified. I was engulfed in nothingness.
I remembered why I was here. I had been preaching the gospel to friends in Afghanistan. Well, perhaps they weren’t my friends; they had double-crossed me. I had been betrayed and handed over to a group of men known as “The Watch.”
The Watch hated Christians, or anyone having anything to do with Christianity. They had blindfolded me and driven me to an abandoned hospital, where they made their headquarters. They had questioned me, asking me things that I had no idea about. I think they finally believed me, because they brought me here.
I didn’t know how long I had been in here. I no longer had my wristwatch; they had taken everything I owned, except my clothing, so I had no clue as to what time it was. I wondered if anybody knew where I was, or if anyone even cared.
The portal room was a massive maze of colorful doorways, each leading to a different country. Fortunately for me, they were in alphabetical order so I didn’t have too far to go. I was already late.
Joran, Phineas, Marcus, Rolf, Wes, and Kasil were waiting next to the Afghanistan portal. Joran, a battle-scarred warrior with thick, dark sideburns, had fought more battles than I could imagine. The huge muscular being towering over me was Phineas. He had smashed many demons with his fists alone. Marcus was a quick, flexible angel; his reflexes were faster than lightning. The brown-headed twins, Rolf and Wes, were two angels who did almost everything identically. The angel with his arms crossed over his chest was Kasil, the Carrier. He was one of the most vital ranks in our forces. Everyone, except Kasil, wore a belt matching to mine.
“Alright, let’s go.” I opened the door. The lighting was different in that room. It was darker and more muted. I took a deep breath and walked through the blue haze covering the wall.
I woke up again. The stiffness in my body seemed to intensify every time I woke up and I still couldn’t see. It scared me every time. I had never been scared of the dark, but the feeling of being engulfed in pitch-blackness was a bit frightening.
Suddenly, a dim light flooded the room. My eyes watered as I looked toward the light. Through my tearing eyes I could make out three figures entering a door in the opposite wall. As my eyes cleared, I could see where I had been kept for what seemed like forever. I was in a cell, with rusty, iron bars barricading my way to freedom. On the other side of the bars, I could see a folding table and a wall full of cabinets.
I struggled to my feet as the men came closer to me. I nearly fell down again when I saw the malicious gleam in their dark eyes. The men looked at me and smiled, treacherously.
The thrill of being shot through a portal was exhilarating. All the breath seemed sucked out of me and I couldn’t clearly see. The world whizzing by was blurry and out of focus. I loved that feeling, but what I didn’t love, was coming out of the portal. I couldn’t bear to be out of the warm, bright presence of the Lord, and being in the cold, dark world that the Enemy had claimed as its own.
I stepped out of the portal and into another network of doorways. These doorways opened up into more portals that, this time, led to people who were in Afghanistan. Whenever someone left the country so did his or her door. The sporadic blinking of the doors, the shifting of doors taking another’s place, the hissing sound of their movement, it was all mesmerizing, but I had an impending mission, and couldn’t afford distraction.
I flew down the hallway to the “M” section and quickly located the green door with John Morton printed above it. Green has always been the color of life, even for humans. Green was on very few doors I passed, and it grieved me. Most of the doors were covered in black, the color of death. Those who had a blood red color around their doors were inhabited by demons, and there were way too many of those. I would have liked to enter any of these doors and fight the sin and darkness away, but they were locked to me unless my Maker called me to open one.
I took a deep breath as I stood in front of the one green door in sight. If it was cold and dark in that room, entering a Veil was even more so. The Veil was like a bubble, surrounding a human. From inside, we could ward off demons, deliver messages, protect the human, etc. but we could not enter the minds or hearts of the human. The Veil was invisible to humans, unless by our King’s will, He chose to make us visible.
I opened a pocket on my belt and withdrew a long, slender sword. I waved it in the air as I waited for my comrades to join me. We had work to do.
“You love man named Jesus?” One of the men said, in halting English.
I cleared my throat and opened my mouth to speak about how strongly I loved him, but I was forgetful of my aching jaw. The pain shot through my ears and into my skull. I groaned and nodded my head, yes, instead.
The men laughed at me and I felt foolish. I wished I could say something intelligent, possibly persuasive. My eyes were beginning to make out the details of my captors. They were all wearing the same colored clothing, black. The one who spoke to me was tall, taller than my cousin, a professional basketball player. The man pulling items out of the cabinets was of medium height, closer to my size. And the man coming towards me with a ring of keys in his hands was short, very short.
He wasn’t intimidating while he unlocked my cell, and he wasn’t intimidating while I stepped out. But the second I was outside the cell, he kicked the back of my knee, and sent me sprawling to the stone floor. Very intimidated now, I stayed on the floor. Blood was pooling on my lip and I could almost feel the goose egg growing on my forehead.
Suddenly, Shorty’s face was level with mine and he gruffly asked, in barely comprehensible English, “Still love Jesus?”
With my sword in hand, I reached for the handle of the door. Thick smoke surged through the doorway. The black cloud undulated in a serpentine motion towards me with alarming speed. I swung my sword through the haze and it quickly dissipated, turning into dust.
My men rounded the corner. Joran and Marcus drew swords from their belts. Rolf and Wes produced quivers of arrows and long bows. Phineas had a great hammer, which he swung uncomfortably close to my head.
Kasil did not have a weapon. The title of Carrier seemed like an oxymoron to me, since Kasil carried nothing visible. He merely folded his arms across his chest and waited patiently for us to move through the doorway.
Reluctantly, I moved forward. The oppressive smoke made it painfully obvious that demons had entered the Veil. We shone brightly as we pushed through the darkness. We could see where we were going, but there was no hope for a surprise ambush. The demons could also see where we were going.
“Kasil,” I called as loudly as I dared. “It is time.”
Rolf and Wes sprang into action. The twins nocked arrows to their bowstrings and drew them back. Kasil silently stepped between them. Joran and Marcus joined me at my sides, and I could feel Phineas’ breath behind me. We were ready.
“Yes,” I said slowly and weakly, forcing my puffy lip and obstinate jaw to move. “I love Jesus.” Every word seemed easier as I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees.
The dwarf-man kicked me in the stomach and my arms gave way, sending me back to the floor. I felt my body being lifted from the floor and Tall Guy placed me in a folding chair next to the table. The medium-sized man put a plate of food in front of me. I was wary of him, especially because of the way he smiled at me, like the Cheshire cat in Lewis Carol’s Alice in Wonderland.
“If you don’t love Jesus, you eat all food you want,” Shorty said. I knew exactly what he meant. I had to deny Jesus to eat this food. I didn’t look at the plate, but the smell of it made my mouth water. My stomach rumbled and I wanted to eat.
You could say that you don’t love him and get to eat, but still love him, right? A voice seemed to ask me.
NO! What am I thinking? I can’t do that to Jesus. I thought.
But why not? You are hungry. Doesn’t Jesus want what is best for you? Does He want you to starve? The voice asked.
I… I can’t betray Jesus; just look how much He suffered for me.
Yeah, well where is He now? Why hasn’t He come to rescue you?
Where was Jesus now? The unknown voice inside my head had a point. Where was Jesus now?
Is Jesus worth the pain you are suffering?
YES, no, well, maybe? I don’t know. I don’t know.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” Kasil said. His voice rang out through the Veil. The way he spoke gave me the chills. His resonant, reverberating voice, spoke words from the Lord Himself. Carriers were mouthpieces of the King. The black smoke began to evaporate from bottom to top.
Humans have always demons portrayed as monsters, red creatures with pitchforks and horns; but I knew otherwise. Little did the Lord’s sheep know that these fallen angels were as beautiful as the angels who had not sinned. Some were even more so, to make their deceptions more attractive.
The smoke cleared. The absence of the dark cloud enabled us to see everything, including the demons. I was unnerved by how close they were without our knowing. Three beings stood before us. Nearly everything about them was the same as us, except the robes they wore were blood red, as apposed to our green, and they were smiling. It sickened me to know the names of one of the demons; he used to be my friend.
Behind them, I could see another fallen angel, a Carrier. His arms were outstretched; his golden hair covered his handsome face. His mouth moved, but no words came out. With a quick glance to my right, I noticed that Kasil too, had his arms extended and his head bowed.
“You have no place here,” I said addressing their leader.
“Why can we not dwell where we choose?” He asked saucily. Silfun had been a messenger angel and I knew how he worked. He was bluffing, stalling for time. I had no time to loose, I wasn’t sure how long their Carrier had been at work, and so I cut right to the point.
“You cannot dwell where you choose, because you have no authority over the Lord.”
The demon paled, as did the others with him. Without losing a beat, I motioned for Phineas to take out the Carrier. Joran and Marcus moved closer to me. Rolf and Wes moved into a defensive crouch, never once releasing the tension on their bowstrings. The showdown was about to begin...