From Whence She Came

As surely as there is said to be God in all people, so too must there be the Devil. There can be
no light without darkness. How could you see the light were it not for the depth of pitch by which to
compare it? Evil lies in us all. Even those pure of heart and soul.
In the darkness and stench of an alley a starched young man walks on. He all but shimmers
from the light his faith has placed in him. And yet, something dark dwells there.
In the shadows perches a mysterious figure, her soul so corrupt from her sin it all but glows
from beneath her dusty cloak. Some people lose their faith in God because they have not seen enough. This one lost hers because she was allowed to see too much. For centuries she has silently watched time pass, as she watches this mere boy now. From beneath her hood her eyes burn with anticipation. Feeling her glare upon him the young man turns and their eyes meet. He senses something ancient and wrought with evil. He has only one word for her, something he, like all mankind, wants. Immortal. Sensing his thoughts she leaps from her lair and gently lands in front of him, her cloak sweeping and stirring the dust at her feet.

"Your soul." she says.
"Pardon me?" he replies.
"Your soul, young one, is the gold by which you may purchase it." she responds.
"Purchase what?" he questions.
"Immortality." she smiles simply.
"Give it to me," he responds, the innocence of his faith melting away, "Now."
"I'm afraid you ask of me something that is beyond my powers - the ability to forgive and
forget." she glares.
"Well then, if you'll excuse me..." he says, returning, without question, to his sense and walks
past her.
She laughs quietly to herself and slips back into the shadows, From whence she came.....
 

She Waits for You

Late at night there comes a time. A time that falls between the hours of 2 and 4 am. This time is known to some as "The hour of the Wolf". It is said that if you awake during this time a wolf will be waiting for you. With her, she brings all your problems, questions, worries and woes. If you let her in, sleep will not find you. Instead, you will be kept awake with doubt. Some feel that this is not all the wolf can bring with her. If your soul holds darkness, they say, she will find it.

Peter sat on his white leather couch, gently nursing his glass of whiskey. His eyes wearily drooping. Another hard days work, he thought to himself. Hard indeed. His morning had consisted of nervouly awaiting word on the arrival of a plane, and his evening was spwnt negotiating another shipment of his white gold. Cocaine was Peters' stock and trade. He was good at what he did and reaped the rewards heavily. Satisfied that Peter had had enough of consciousness for one day, he put his glass down on the heavy mahogany coffee table and turned out the light. He made his way slowly to the bedroom and removed his silk housecoat. Slumping on the edge of the bed, he picked up the sleek black phone next to him. His call was automatically directed to his butlers quarters. He set his wake up call for 6am, set the reciever back into the cradle and placed it ready by his bedside.
Peter stretched, and crawled under the lush downfilled comforter and soon had drifted off.
He woke suddently during the night and glanced over to his grandfather clock which loomed huskily in the corner of the room. The moonlight from his skylight glinted off the glass cover revealing the time to Peter. It read just a few minures before 3am. Peter sighed and snuggled back deeply into his bed. He was just about to fade back out when a noise roused him. His eyes opened and flashed about the room. Nothing seemed out of place. he shrugged and sat back. Upon closing his eyes again, the noise repeated itself, this time more clearly. Peters ear distinguished it as a deep, gutteral growl. He sat up and glanced around the room. A strange light in the shadows beside the grandfather clock caught his eye. As the clock struck out its loud chime marking the hour, the light glowed stronger. The growl heightened as Peter beheld two glowing red eyes beaming from the shadows. He recoiled in terror. Each chime of the clock seemed to intensify the growling until it drowned out all sound. Peters hands clasped over his ears to block it out, but it only crescendoed, seeming to imminate from within him. Peter lay awake haunted by the sounds until he at last collapsed from exhaustion in the wee hours of the morning.

The phone by his bed rand, startling him awake the next morning. He glanced about the room nervously. The noise and the eyes had vanished, now being replaced by the crisp smell of morning. He dismissed the nights adventures as merely a dream and squinted in the morning light as he rose to begin his day.

As Peter crawled into bed that night he pondered his day. Several of his business arrangements had fallen through, and a plane he had scheduled had never arrived. He shrugged off his losses and crawled into bed.
He awoke again duing the night, the grandfather clock drearily foretelling the hour. A rumbling growl began form behind the clock as it struck its first chime of three. Peter colted up iin bed. Again the eyes began to glow as the growl deepened, Peter clung to the bed sheets. His hour of horror had just begun.

Several nights later with a glass rimmed with alcohol, Peter sat in his bed. His face showed the wear of his nights of insomnia. his "business" was all but ruined. he had begun sleeping less and less. The haunting wolf consumed his thoughts. The clock crept towards three and Peter prepared himself for the visit.
Tonight was to be differenet though. Peter tenseed as the cluck struck three.
Nothing followed.
No growls.
No eyes.
Peter waited.
Nothing.
He was just about to breath a sigh of relief when an image caught his eye. Something silver shimmered in the darkness. As he watched a large, gray form immerged from the clock. It stood before him for a moment, the haunting red eyes starred hungrily at him. "Why have you come?" Peter demanded of the wolf. He was on the verge of insanity because of these visits. He wanted answers. Now.
A growling voice answered from all around him.
"I am here to resolve you of your sins, Peter." the voice answered.
Peter recoiled. This feminine voice knew his name. His head began to tingle, he looked down to see his hands covered in all the blood he had spilt in his lust for power. The room began to spin, and was filled with the faces of every child his drugs had killed, circling before him. Screams filled his ears. He clutched them and looked up at the wolf. "It is time to come home Peter." she said calmly.  Peter froze. The sounds around him ceased. An eerie silence filled the room as the wolf stepped forward. Peter was astonished by her size as her full form came into view. Her lips lefted into a bloodcurtling snarl to reveal her glistening teeth as her eyes beamed. Peter uttered his final sound in the form of a gut-wrenching scream as the wolf charged him.
The last thing he saw was her eyes as her form lunged towards him. She hung over him for what seemed like an eternity, before he felt her mighty jaws crush through him as her weight crashed down, engulfing him.
And Peter sinned no more.

Caution children.
Have no regrets, no dark secrets for the wolf. Mark my words.
In the shadows of the night, your terrors shall come to light,
In the form of glistening red eyes, you soul shall never lie.
She sits alone, watching, hearing, knowing all.
She wait for sinners, drunkards, killers and maybe...

She waits for you....

And The Angel Laughed

Faith. In yourself? In the beyond? If there can be a mortal with devout faith in God then, why not in Darkness? It is an unexploited fact that the dark side is power. It does not have the limitations of good placed upon it. A young man kneels before an alter glowing with candles, his head bowed in prayer. His mind as intent of purpose as a hawk drifting in the wind and then suddenly diving for her prey.
"Please God." He muttered knowing he was alone in the church, "Help me...." he sighed. "I need to get beyond this point.
I need to move on, I need....An answer."
Raising his head he peered up at the image of Christ on the crucifix, his eyes filled with tears. Cringing at the image he lowered his head in anguish.
"Send an angel to help me." he cried in desperation.
After composing himself the man turned and heavily shuffled to a nearby pew, and sat in reserve, pondering.
"An answer, you say?" called a crisp precise voice, it echoed through the church as the man looked up. Seeing no one he rose and continued searching. He softly walked towards the alter and turned to look at the huge oak door opposite it, thinking someone might have entered and heard him. He slowly backed towards the alter. The next sound to echo the church was his screams as a hand grabbed him by the shoulder. He spun bewildered.
"Wwwwhat?" he cried.
His eyes beheld the figure of a man, plain of description, sitting on the alter. He wore a heavy, black overcoat and smiled softly.
"Who are you?" asked the church man.
"One could say that I am your answer." the man on the alter smiled.
"My answer?" questioned the church man.
"Your answer." the alter man replied, "Oh, how rude of me, I didn't introduce myself. My name is Sebastian." he said extending his hand.
The Church man cautiously raised his hand towards Sebastian.
"I'm David."
"A pleasure David." Sebastian said, readily shaking his hand.
"Can I ask how you got in here?" David asked looking about him.
Sebastian gazed at him curiously and pointed upwards without saying a word.
"Through the ceiling?" David questioned.
"If you like." Sebastian shrugged, "That's not the important factor here David." he said stepping off the alter and taking David by the shoulders. "I am here to help you."
"To help me?" David questioned, "I don't understand."
"It's all very simple," Sebastian replied calmly, "You asked for an answer and here I am...."
"An answer...?" David wondered.
Sebastian sighed, "It should be quite plain my boy. Standing before the alter you asked for an answer remember? ‘I need to get beyond this point, I need to move on, I need an answer...' right?"
"I guess so.. Wait, then you must be..." he peered at Sebastian with a new found aura of astonishment, "...an angel." he finished barely believing his own words.
"Yes." Sebastian acknowledged, then closed his hands into a steeple.
"Incredible." David mused, sinking into the pew beside him as his knees weakened.
"Yes." Sebastian continued, "I have come with a proposition for you."
"What is it?" David questioned eagerly.
"Only this," Sebastian began, "I will fulfil all your requests for a price. You, my David, must be a messenger. You will do all that I ask of you to spread His word."
David puzzled for a moment, "To me it appears that this is a win, win situation on my part." he thought for a moment, "Then... God does work in mysterious ways! I accept."
"Excellent." Sebastian said and as he walked towards David a scroll and pen appeared in his hand. "All I need from you now is for you to sign this..." he said and handed the pen to David who looked at him suspiciously. "Oh, it's merely a formality, there's paperwork everywhere I'm afraid."
David laughed and picked up the pen which was icy cold to the touch. He looked up at Sebastian who smiled warmly to him. "It's okay." he said, "Sign it."
David did as he was told, he carefully scrawled his name across the page, the ink from the pen a rich, generous red.
Sebastian then grasped the scroll in his hand and the pen vanished.
"So, what happens now?" David asked.
"Now, you walk out that door," Sebastian motioned gracefully to the massive oak doors opposite them, "And I will contact you when I feel the rest are ready."
"Amazing." David said and as per Sebastian's' instructions turned and strolled casually down the main aisle and out the door.
As the massive doors thudded shut Sebastian again returned to the alter and seated himself, scroll in hand.
He clenched the scroll greedily in his fist as his eyes took on a red glimmer. Manacle laughter reverberated off the walls as Sebastian removed his heavy jacket. A pair of huge, black, leathery bat-like wings unfurled from his back and spread out, covering the alter and the cross behind him. The laughter continued to crescendo in volume as Sebastian crushed the scroll between his fingers. It turned into a river of blood and flowed down his arm. The cross behind him erupted in flames... And the angel laughed.