Something was lurking in the shadows…someone?
It had a blazing feature as it made its advent from the wall of trees. Something like the fires of hell coming true.
The boy dropped the drink in his hand and began a hopeful trail of backward steps. The creature followed though.
Finally, it came into full view, and what he saw was antichrist.
It was a man, endowed with height and stature that should scare anyone. Not too beast-like, but surely with a perfect body.
Obviously, that was not what scared him. As the being stalked closer to him in a threatening style, the boy noticed his skin was smouldering, every single part of it.
It was as though the man harboured scorching flames in his body that now managed to seep out of his skin in the form of smoulder. And those flames showed in his eyes.
As he breathed, smoke huffed out through his nostrils like the very devil he was. With long, ebony hair falling to his bare chest, the man stalked closer to the boy.
And after releasing a lion like roar from the base of his throat, he pounced on the boy.
***
Paul Herrman gasped and awoke from his state of slumber, looking around to make out his location.
Sweat dripped down the sides of his face…and slowly, the young Priest lifted his body from the grass and came to a sitting pose, as his hand wiped his perspiration.
His dalmatian was barking erratically.
However, better things were on his mind than the noise from his dog.
He has that dream again.
The one that had come every single night since he clocked nine till hence and had never wanted to go away.
He bent his knees and propped his elbows upon them, burying his head in his palms afterwards. Why would a man with such formidable control over fire be there to kill him over and over again in his dreams?
And even now he was a grown man, he fear he awoke to every morning had not changed. Except he knew how to seal it in.
Maybe it was something relate to a sin he'd committed some time ago? Or maybe he was just being haunted by this persistent creature.
Either way, he thought more time with God could cure him.
He'd hired a therapist, confessed all he could think of, dedicated his entire life to the creator…and even become a Priest. But then, the dream had never faded away.
The darn dog was still barking…
So he settled for one thing; find this being…and kill it.
Certainly that should bring an end to the torture. Easier said than done, wasn't it?
Nonsense…he'd spent years as a demon slayer. Surely, it wasn't something he couldn't handle.
Arghh. That dog…!
Paul Herrman came back to reality and glared at the dalmatian, and that was when he realised.
His dog was barking! And of course, that meant something was off. Abruptly, the demon slayer rushed to his feet and brushed off his black, embroidered waistcoat.
Now where were his weapons?
The barks from the animal became fiercer and he felt the strange aura as well.
"Good boy, Fred," he finally found his blades, taking a stance of readiness right beside the dalmatian.
Now, the dog kept shut and bared his teeth in an angry, threatening snarl, darting eyes about to search for the source of the scent his nose had caught.
A horse's hooves could be heard in the distance, approaching with a speed as though it was world's end.
And then, the sound of howling wolves, followed by the snickering sound of smacking jaws of teeth.
Obviously, no ordinary set of wolves.
"Good Lord," he gave a dark whisper, turning slowly to face the direction of the approaching sound.
Miya Singh became quite visible upon her horse…and not so far from her, those beasts of azarath.
Paul Herrman snatched out his crucifix instantly, and just after the horse passed him, he stepped in before the swarm of surging red light.
And abruptly, the wolves came to a halt and jerked backwards, maybe in fright.
"The Lord is my shepherd," he began with the chant he'd become quite accustomed to now. "There's nothing I shall want…"
Catching her breath, Miya gawked at the scene of an ordinary man scaring off what she'd been running from for hours. Weakly, she released her reins and descended the filly, staggering right to his side for any ounce of protection.
"Ye though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil," and the confidence in his words was evident in his pose.
With a stern determined stare, he shoved the crucifix from side to side, painstakingly confident and proud.
The wolves were howling about and began retreating, the anger of their defeat deepening the red shade of their eyes to blood. As though to threaten him, they bared their fangs and growled fiercely, but all he did was shove the talisman closer to them while coming protectively before the lady.
His dalmatian added to the frenzy by resuming his barks.
Stealthily, he drew out daggers from their sheaths. And the sight of them seemed to be all that was needed to end the mini war.
After the last wave of growls and glares were given, the wolves suddenly dashed away, leaving a uniform glow of red behind.
When Miya tried to form words of appreciation, tears drowned them and she limply fell to her knees.
Slowly, he joined her, a hand placed carefully on her shoulder as he studied her in silence. "Are you alright?"
"You have to help me," she suddenly blurted. "Help me find my sister."
***
The night was quiet to a fault, with a cool breeze sweeping past the sky. Obviously, the type of serenity for sleep anyone would ask for.
Nonetheless, the King had quite a difficult time accepting that.
For no reason he was sure of, his efforts to drift away into slumber had all been in vain; and finally, he'd given up and decided to take a walk through his castle.
Now in the courtroom, Abraham studied his throne with hands at his back…for nothing other than boredom. His sleeping robe spread open over his body with the moonlight through the windows casting shadows over his face and bare torso.
For a while, head inclined, his eyes remained fixed on the Royal seat, something he'd undoubtedly attained in the worst way possible.
What was happening to him? He'd suddenly lost any sense of peace and was forced to stay awake while his entire Kingdom had their heads on a pillow.
He drank in the silence and loneliness for a while longer, hoping to bore himself to sleep.
But no…deep down, he knew why he couldn't sleep.
What if he lost this?
Ozii had a menacing team of demons by his side. One of them could turn anything to dust the right contact. Another could race the whole world in a matter of seconds. And how could he forget the one who controlled the night herself. Deep down, her mere appearance freaked him out.
Would his own team meet up to all of them?
Maybe he was perfect in displaying overconfidence, power and arrogance; when truly, all he felt inside was fear.
Fear that he would stand and watch souls like Jeremy and Martin die in the name of cleansing the Earth
He'd already lost two brothers. Surely not them too…
Abraham sighed and finally glanced away from the throne before him. His eyes looked through a window and up at the moon, radiating in all brilliance but constantly reminding him of how much he needed a day's rest.
At the thought, he resumed his walk through his home. Except this time, he had a specific place in mind he was sure would bring him peace.