The Warrior's Beckoning (2 page)

“You gonna be able to handle that Browning, kid?” David asked.

I shrugged on a tactical vest and slung the rifle over my shoulder. Holstering another pistol and lining every pocket with clips, I turned to him with a smile. “I’ve always wanted to use one.”

“Yeah, but—”

I cut him off before he could finish. “Don’t worry. I work out.” He shrugged and turned to the others.

“So, what’s going on here?” Rick asked.

“From what I’ve researched so far, this town was built over a series of mining tunnels. The town was attacked long ago and nearly wiped out. The survivors rebuilt, and a few built their homes underground, connecting them with the abandoned tunnels,” I said. The others listened intently. “No one knew what the creatures were, only that it took a priest to kill them.”

“Like Daniel?” Frank asked curiously.

“Like anyone who follows Jesus and believes,” Daniel said.

I nodded. “They found that out too late.” I pulled my laptop from my bag and connected my POV camera to its USB port. “You can watch some of what happened to me and my team.” The video played shortly after the computer booted up. Initially it was quiet, with occasional comments about EMF spikes and temperature changes. “This is where we entered the old house. Here, we’re finding the decayed bodies. See the large gashes on their chests? The breaks in the rib cages probably came from whatever made those claw marks on the door. Whatever it was…it was big, and powerful.”

The group was silent, watching the screen.

“The EMF meter spiked. Little by little, the readings intensified. You could feel the room getting colder. Before Joe could activate the audio recorder, some sort of shadowy apparitions appeared and interacted with each other, as if we did not exist. Here—you can see the point where one of them handed me the diary, just as Joe and Sarah go off into the next room. The apparitions looked human, and they seemed to be at peace. I felt a brush of cold air from behind
me, though, and that seemed to scare them and cause them to flee. I turned to see a glimpse of the entity that had grabbed me. I saw its gray hand grasping the empty doorway, with the fog billowing from it. A distant laugh echoed all around me…then silence. The EMF stopped, and the diary I held vanished.”

“What the—” Rick said. He was sniffing the air. We smelled smoke. “Whoa!”

The diary burst into flames, though it did not seem to be burning away. It was still completely intact. I activated the EMF meter, and the readings spiked instantly. Another cold gust of air brushed past us, and the lights flickered off. An all-too-familiar fog entered the room, and the entity appeared.

“You are all fools,” said the entity menacingly. “You delay the inevitable. He is mine.”

“The Lord’s will shall be done, and you will be banished from this world,” Daniel said strongly.

The entity laughed.

“Fools…” it said as it approached. David raised his assault rifle and fired a burst into the entity. The bullets passed straight through it.

“I will be watching…” it said before vanishing once more.

“Great. Our guns don’t faze it. So, how do we stop this thing?” David asked.

“Well, even an ethereal entity can’t escape the laws of physics. This entity seems to have a semicorporeal form,” I said, thinking out loud.

“So, we need an energy-based attack,” Frank said, catching on to my line of thought.

“Or another spiritual being,” said Daniel.

“In either case,” David said “it seems to be stalking us right now, toying with us.

“Guess we’re just going to have to wing it until we know for sure,” Jason said.

“It said, ‘He’s mine.’ Any ideas who ‘he’ is?” Joel asked.

“Probably a survivor. Satan requires an anchor into this world to enter it—by taking control over someone gifted by God. The reason this town was attacked was to bring forth the Destroyer,” Daniel said softly. We were all silent as the situation sunk in.

“Whoa,” Rick said softly.

“Yeah,” David added.

“We can’t allow that to happen,” Daniel said. He pulled a book from his robe, setting it on the table. It was a logbook of demonic encounters. “It’s not the first time this has been attempted. But it’s the first time on this scale.”

I picked the book up, and I began to read through it. I had heard about some of the events, or at least their cover stories. As I read, the words felt like memories, flashing through my mind as if I had been there.

Log 1

This took place in ancient times
.

Unbeknownst to the common knowledge of man lie beings shrouded in legend and myth. Long have they sought a direct conduit into our world, and long has been their struggle. Whilst the Lord remains vigilant, man is tested of his faith. Herein, the encounter from the scribe’s eye
.

CLAD IN PLATE
armor with swords and shields, four knights approached, their silver armor shining beneath the moonlight. Two aged men in white robes stood before me, bearded and experienced. Each held a staff, and each staff seemed to react to the moon’s midnight gaze. A pretense immersed itself within the night, and I knew it followed these men. Or me. They would serve a purpose not their own.

“Scribe,” the eldest of the sages said to me. “I know full well what you sense, even now. An encroaching darkness is forcing itself into your mind.”

To this, I merely gave a nod.

“You are chosen,” said the other sage. “You often wonder which you would choose, light or dark. However, your choice was made in another time.”

I knew of what he spoke, though I thought I could hide from it. Evidently, I might only face it. In my right hand I held a book, the record of all of my encounters and all that I had foreseen. The air around us grew colder and colder. Whispers in the dark emerged from the shadows. The time was nigh.

“We are out of time, my friend.” The first sage motioned to the knights, who turned toward the unknown, shields and swords raised. They were the only barrier between us and the atrocities that awaited us.

“There is no escaping this?” I asked the sages. In unison, they shook their heads.

“We must stand our ground…and pray,” the eldest sage said as he turned to stand by the knights. “Stay behind us. If we cannot overcome this, you must not fight. May the Lord be with you, Scribe.”

With that, the first wave crashed into the knights.

We were cornered in a ravine. I had arrived there in response to a dream, a calling. The others had shared the same dream and now might share the same fate. The knights, standing side by side, pushed the creatures back with their shields and drove their swords into them. The first creatures were small and weak but vast in number. The ravine funneled their numbers toward us.

The water in the ravine had dried up. The sages raised their staves, which glowed bright before releasing bolts of light into the mass of darkness. Shrieks and roars filled the air, and we glimpsed a visage not meant to be looked upon by mortals. An endless wave of darkness, flowing and ebbing, came for us. The knights were strong and valiant; they would not give up. I lost count of how many creatures they had slain before they began to weaken and be pushed back.

The sages released more bolts of light, dispersing many creatures. First came the small humanoid creatures, their limbs thin, their bodies short and frail. Next came the canine forms with eyes as red as blood, revealing the evil sweltering inside them.

With a quick bash of the shields and a fast swipe of the long swords, the knights cut down more creatures. It was all they could do to hold their ground. No, they would not overcome this darkness. They knew it, yet they fought on. Why? Perhaps simply to know that they had fought and stood against evil. They would not give in, even as defeat loomed over them.

One knight was knocked to the ground; the sage behind him drove his staff into the attacking dog and helped the knight to his feet. They worked as a unit, each caring for the others, each covering the others’ weaknesses.

The battle paused unexpectedly.

The creatures before us withdrew, yet a shadow still loomed over us. This was not victory, just the calm before the storm. Something was coming, something massive. Wearily the knights stood, still ready to fight. The aura that surrounded the sages was dim now, their energy spent. Distant whispers carried by the wind crept toward us…toward me.

In that moment, it became very clear: it wanted me. Valiant and brave as they were, my protectors could not defend against this entity—not weakened as they were. A fog rushed in and surrounded me. Whispers came from every direction, echoing pain and sorrow.. Slowly the fog attempted to meld with me.

A knight rushed to my aid, only to be thrown to the ground. The sages cast their remaining energy, which dissipated in the dense fog. There was no saving me. Only one option remained. My skin became as gray as the fog around me, and thoughts of destruction and despair rushed through my mind. I had only one hope left; I had to focus hard to maintain control over my body and carry out the deed. Success! I removed my dagger from its scabbard and plunged it into my heart. I
felt no pain. I was already fading. I felt the blade pierce my heart and saw the blood flowing from the wound, yet I was at peace. I would not let myself become an instrument of evil.

I fell to my knees, and my heart stopped. It was so cold, so dark, and with nothing below me to stop my fall, I pitched forward.

A voice called out to me. “You have chosen the light.”

I closed my eyes, smiling. I had chosen the light.

Log 2

This occurred within the same century
.

Mankind has long forgotten the desperate struggle fought so hard and so long ago. He is unwilling to gaze upon his zenith. The Fallen had come, and the battle was set. In the midst of the Fallen rose a warrior who would marshal a mighty army and hold back the demons, one man, chosen by God to lead
.

THE VILLAGE I
had come to defend burned around me as the chaotic symphony of battle enveloped my heart. There would be no retreat, no surrender. If we did not prevail here, mankind would meet its collective end and endure slavery at the hands of the Fallen. My armor was red chain mail. A coif covered my head, and white plated strips hung over my armor, each point painted red. One of the Fallen charged, and I brought my two-handed claymore down upon him. He blocked me with his own sword but was knocked to the ground.

I had power over them, even the power to command some of them. Those I knew would fight to aid humanity, I took to my side; the others I cut down. On my orders, they rescued the few villagers
that remained, charging into burning homes, boldly and without hesitation. My army formed a protective barrier around the villagers who were gathered at the center of the town. I cut down each of the fallen that attacked me. Moving with fluid motion, I spun with my sword outstretched, slicing into a Fallen’s throat. Crouching, I dodged another one’s attack and kicked him in the stomach. There were so many.

Soon the last of the Fallen was slain, and those that remained had joined my forces. With this new army now marshaled, I readied my forces to march upon the lands to the north and free the people from the demons that had seized them and their land. The Lord had chosen me for this task. I would be a king, though only for this war.

Gathering my army, both mortal and angel, I gave my orders.

“I will ride to the city alone.” As I spoke, I turned to meet their collective gaze.

“Sire, it will be a trap,” said my general.

“No doubt, my friend,” I said. “However, we will spring a trap of our own. While I approach the city, you will gather in the Forest of Anguish, the place where the demons first entered our world—and the place where we shall dispatch them.”

“What of the Fallen that joined you, sire?” asked one of the angels.

“You will be treated as mortals. Should your faith be true, you will be allowed to return to Heaven, where it will become a matter between you and God,” I said. The angels nodded. They now formed the bulk of my army. Heavily armored, wielding massive swords, they would be my vanguard. The men wore chain mail and wielded bastard swords and kite shields.

The battle drew near. I would initially be separated from my army. They would be in the Lord’s hands…as would I.

Emboldened by that knowledge, I mounted my steed. My horse was armored with chain mail that matched my own. My general handed me the banner, a red flag with a white cross. With a nod, I rode
off into uncertainty, knowing only that God’s will would be done, and that would have to be enough for me.

The countryside was barren of life, and most of the towns equally desolate. Scattered survivors picked through what remained. My heart wanted to reach out to them, but I could not delay, knowing that their fate would only worsen if I did. I pressed on. So much pain, so much sorrow, and for what purpose? It seemed devoid of all logic. Perhaps it was unique to my heart; destruction was something I could not abide. I could never stop caring.

After a long ride, I arrived at the demons’ keep. It was a fortress! A massive wall enclosed the city, with a canyon surrounding the wall. Two golems stood at either side of the gate. I placed my banner next to theirs to show my intentions; I was there to negotiate. The gate opened slowly, and the bridge was set. I dismounted and told my horse to return home. A loyal and disciplined beast, it would carry back the message I had placed in the bags on its back.

I crossed the bridge and entered the fortress. There were people everywhere, all of them giving me quick and pained glances. I could see the suffering in their eyes and their strides. What I did not see were any demonic forces present here, save the two guards at the front.

A man quickly approached me. “Sire,” he said. “This is a trap, set for you. You are meant to meet your demise here.”

I replied with a nod.

“Come with me. It is not safe here.”

I followed him through the city, which was crowded with people working fearfully. They were being held there, like slaves.

“The demons’ army has left for the lands you just liberated, and they intend to cut through the Forest of Anguish.”