Rapture Falls (38 page)

             
“Not going soft on me just yet”, a painful claw gripped his face, talons dug deep into the flesh as a madman’s eyes bore deep into him, “Where are your jokes now funny man?, where is your bravado, is your heart still strong?”. The hand released its vice on his face only to relocate to his left breast, the nails dug in hard. “Why don’t I rip it out and check if it still beats half-breed”, the pressure was unbearable, his healing ability was already struggling to cope with knitting his insides back together, now fresh blood began a quickening flow from his chest
cascading to an already soaked floor. Foul breath filled his face as Azazel leaned in, the nails tore into his flesh sinking deeper and deeper toward the very beat of his life, his eyes began to droop as the violating force reached his heart. He could feel the clutch now around his vital organ, his breath caught somewhere in his very bowels, the pit darkened as the blackness stole in around him, the dark was here, finally, the only surprise was that it was not empty. Every life that he had ever taken swirled around the edges of the fading light, every face that he had ever watched die at his hands
now danced mockingly beyond his reach, their eyes burned with vengeance and their mouths were hungry.
Suddenly the pressure was gone, his breath caught, missed, missed again then caught, coughs exploded out his chest, choking great gasps of air refilled his lungs as his heartbeat spluttered back into life, the faces receded back into the darkness,
not yet you fuckers
, he thought
wearily,
not yet
.

             
Lucifer
had crept toward the unguarded pit amongst the violent noise emanating from the farmhouse, figures had rushed from the surrounding shadows as soon as the firing had begun, loud shouts and low whimpers filled the night. She crept stealthily to the horizontal door and lifted it with barely a whisper, she knew at this close range that it was Azazel occupying the darkness below and he was working. In the time before Azazel had been renowned for his prowess with interrogation, his skill with the blade was legend
, angels were by nature a placid and obedient race, but their father’s obsession with the humans had sown the seeds of discontent long before the rebellion. Michael and Gabriel had always been the swords of God, the iron fist of an omnipotent ruler and Azazel had been their scalpel
for extraction. She slowly descended into the pit, Azazel’s voice was strained through pure rage, she had never heard such emotion in an
archangel’s
voice before, she knew that the walls between their trueness and their human hosts were always fragile at
best;
Azazels appeared to have broken completely. In the dim flickering flame of the wall mounted torches she could see Baine suspended by his wrists, his upper clothing lay in tatters and his
milky
white
flesh was not faring any better.
Even looking at her brother from the rear she could tell that he was oblivious to her presence, normally they could tell each other
from a distance. T
heir angelic essence
would flow
around and above them
,
swirling
colours
and fragrances that were unmistakable beauty incarnate, now however the aura of Azazel was a dirty muddy grey that dripped from him with a foul
odor
. She approached slowly
enjoying watching her brother work, the spraying crimson mists and the pain moans of the half breed were making her wet, if only she had her detective at hand she would have mounted him on the spot, writhing and pounding…, she suddenly snapped back into herself annoyed at the distraction. She shook her head to clear it and with a smooth fluid motion
drew the silver
blade;
the etchings on the handle were an incantation older than everything that even she knew. The six blades had been forged by their father and handed to his most trusted lieutenants, they were the only instruments that she knew of that could effectively end an angel. If a host body was destroyed then they were able to occupy another human within a short distance, if not then it was a long trip to purgatory and an eternity to find your way back again. Azazel was working himself into a frenzy, no longer the surgeon, now he was a butcher, it was a simple task to clasp her brother around the neck from the rear, “forgive me” she whispered with a tear and plunged the blade inwards and upwards.

             
Baine had seen the figure expertly creep down the stairs, the movements careful and surefooted with a well practiced grace. It was only when the figure passed under the mounted torch on the last stair that he
recognised
her
,
bitch
, he thought with malice, the last time he had seen Lucifer he had promised to end her, in his present predicament it was a promise that he could not envisage keeping. Yet she hesitated, her approach was one of stealth, she was not here it would appear to join the evisceration party, as his captor tore into him with a frenzy that suggested he was beyond merely torture and was now
hell-bent
on destruction and unaware of his new visitor. Lucifer covered the ground between them, without care, she paused halfway, a strange look passed over her face, she suddenly shook her head as if to clear it and stepped in close. Azazel went stiff and the pressure was gone from his heart, lightening flashed through his eyes, once, twice and then the life was unmistakably gone, the body went limp and slipped to the
floor. Lucifer stood before
him;
even in his severely
weakened state before the darkness closed around him again he could swear the bitch was crying.

             
Gabriel showered, the water ran red as it cleansed, the steam filled the luxurious
hotel bathroom as the blood of the room service maid circled the drain, crimson footsteps marked the expensive floor tiles. Dried and fragranced Gabriel wrapped himself in the hotels plush robes, his arms ached as though from a strenuous workout, he stepped carefully around the mesh on the floor eager to maintain his cleanliness,

“Which is after all next to Godliness, he giggled slightly to himself and the remains of his exertions. The large room was originally decorated in a warming neutral beige, but the bloody spray had altered the once lavish suite from a swish refuge to now resembling an abattoir. The maid had begun their meeting as an attractive teenager, a slim brunette with a pleasant face and a sweet smile, now pieces of her were strewn about the room. He had thrown her down onto the bed with ease, her terrified face and almost immediate submission had served only to enrage him further, he had taken her
on the bed alive, delighted to find her unbroken and later taken her again only this time her lifeless body was wet with blood and tears. He had battered and torn at her fragile form until nothing remained, time slipped from him along with his will and reason, it was some time later until he came back to himself, sitting in a congealing mess on the floor. Showered and freshened he felt more like himself again, more in control, he opened the hotel room window to allow the bracing breeze to blow through and alleviate some of the stench. The phone suddenly rang shattering the quiet, before he could pick up the receiver the display told him that it was an incoming fax, the somewhat outdated technology ground into life as the printer noisily spat out an upside down image, the phone number on top of the page he recognised as one of his rather dwindling band of loyal followers secreted amongst Michael’s treachery.
He turned the page and looked down at the strange symbol;

he knew what this meant and he knew where to go, as he stepped around the gore of the maid he hummed a pleasant tune to himself as he dressed,
almost there, almost time
,
he sang softly.

             
As soon as the gunfire began echoing throughout the old stone house
Raphael
was frozen in place, the rapid short bursts angrily spat death into the bodies of the expendables downstairs. Raphael was not surprised to see Samyaza awake in an
instant;
his prone figure suddenly sprang into life as Raphael was transfixed by indecision. Raphael was also not surprised to see that despite his brothers electrifying
resurrection he did not immediately rush toward the violence below, Samyaza was a warrior, but evidently not
an
eager
one.

One of the benefits to having a brain, Raphael had always thought, was having the ability to keep it safely secured in his cranium, there were no old bold warriors in heaven
. The carnage below appeared to be winding down almost as soon as it had
begun;
only the sounds of low moans were drifting up the staircase. Slow careful footsteps were making their way around the lower level, Samyaza covered the distance between the sofa and the door in an instant, Raphael was always impressed with his brothers physical prowess, his body was tensed and coiled, his head was titled, his face a study in concentration, with a whisper he was through the door and gone.
Raphael set the hard drives to delete with his own program, the financials would be destroyed beyond recall, the original information was downloaded onto a TB
flash drive
tucked into his pocket
along with the ancient book that the half breed had been found with
. The window behind him overlooked the low flat roof at the rear of the farmhouse, he eased the swollen frame up with as much stealth as he could manage, he swung his legs up and through the opening and lowered himself out into the cold night. In an instant he was ground level and with a quick look out of the shadows to ensure his anonymity he was off and running out into the dark, he did not dare take one of the vehicles parked around the house for fear of alerting
whoever
was left loose round the farm. As with all of his brothers Raphael was linked on a primal level to all of his
brethren
, he could tell with a thought that Michael and Azazel were both gone
, Gabriel was lost and Lucifer was well on the way to joining him.
All of the old ways were dead and dust, the Orders were no more and would never be again. Raphael had no interest in sustaining the family business, from now on his way would be the only way and all he required was the access to the millions that sat in his pocket. The blackness stretched out in front of him, his future was one to be created of his own making, the thought made him smile as he disappeared into the night.