Gabriel collapsed down onto the wet asphalt.
Pain bled from his body more freely than the scarlet liquid seeping out of his own fresh wounds. He reached down to his left calf and tore out the wooden shaft. His skin grasped onto the blade as his preternatural powers worked in frenzied overdrive to undo the heavy damage endured. Everything inside of him yearned to lay down his broken body and rest.
Resting, though, was not an option. Not if he wanted to avoid another arrow slicing through his body. He might not be so lucky next time; the arrow might find his heart. Breath came out of his parched lips in rushed, ragged drags at this thought.
With weary reluctance, Gabriel rose up and surveyed his surroundings for his pursuer. The effulgent rays of the moon cut through the thicket of the night and bounced off scattered puddles in the alleyway. Portly monsoon clouds blotted out the canopy of glittering stars above. A breeze whistled, gently sliding through the maze of brick and steel.
With that breeze, he heard it.
Flap, flap, flap.
It found him.
The power of the vampire erupted to life from deep inside Gabriel. His eyes electrified red with this power, and his tongue danced over eager fangs. He sprang forward.
Water exploded off the ground and soaked through his blue jeans as he hurtled on. His heart galloped in tune with each frantic lunge he took, scoring his movements to a haunting metronome. Each step he ignited a fresh jolt of searing agony. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with the dirt and sludge to mask his otherwise appealing features.
Springing over a trashcan that stood in Gabriel’s way he tucked his arms into his chest and rolled across it. He popped straight back up and slammed to a stop in front of chalky brick walls. They spiraled up high into the night sky, kissing the clouds and boxing him in on either side.
Letting the vampire be the master, he jumped off the ground, soared through the air in flight and passed some four or five stories before landing on the side of the modern citadel. Talons, each the size of a pocketknife, grew from his fingernails. He dug into the brick, and dragged up. Each yank of his arm pulled nearer to the velvety sky.
Flap, Flap, Flap.
The wings slugged through the humid heavens.
Gabriel remembered what they looked like: thin, and bony, with skin cracked like old concrete. He remembered a face washed in a cloak of swirling blackness both masking and hinting at the true evil beneath.
Fear slithered across the back of his throat.
He carried himself with frantic desperation. Two, almost three stories vanished at a time. His heart skipped beats now, and threatened eruption. Finally, he scaled the last story and catapulted straight over the ledge onto the rooftop. Phoenix’s skyline framed proudly over the rooftop and blotted out the murky fabric of the evening.
The symphony of an urban city mellowed so that all Gabriel heard was the dry hiss of the wind. Hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. Perfectly still, he inched forward, his hand twitching with nervous anticipation.
A distant wisp danced across the airwaves and tickled the inner passageways of his eardrums.
Was it close?
He strained his neck, pursed his lips, and squinted his eyes.
White hot metal answered, slicing through his left shoulder. The momentum burst cratered Gabriel down onto the concrete.
Swaying from side to side, his eyes floated shut as he fought the pain. His nerve endings scorched as the silver head of the arrow dissolved pieces of flesh into goop that plopped down. Grasping at it briefly, Gabriel winced at its pure burn. When his hand came away in a gnarled, melted mess, accepting the futility of resistance seemed the logical course. He crumpled down onto his knees.
More metal and pain came as another spear gutted his torso. The gleaming silver emerged from underneath his pectoral, narrowly missing his heart. Gabriel heaved a roar to the lonely paradises above. The vampire inside receded, as his carnal fangs slid back. He hunched and planked each of his arms down.
Leather loafers echoed on the damp ground behind him. Gabriel strained with his last ounce of energy to look in their direction.
From a shadow-cloaked fire escape, a man emerged, arms linked across his body. The charcoal pinstripe suit the man wore hugged his body tightly; afraid it might fall off him. A cigar stuck out of the edge of his mouth. “Gabriel, guardian angel of humanity. How the mighty hath fallen,” he growled over a puff on the cigar, billowing out a large cloud of white smoke.
Another generous helping of scorched nicotine emerged from the man’s sculpted lips. He sank to sit eye to eye with Gabriel. Delightedly, he continued, “It’s a bit too poetic even for me.”
The voice was silky to Gabriel. Warm and inviting as a bed with freshly laundered sheets. Rest never felt closer than in those moments when Gabriel lost himself in the diction.
“Still stuck in middle management running errands for the creatures of real power, Warden,” Gabriel hissed, spitting at the man. “That poetry certainly isn’t lost on me.”
“Nor is your boorish and unnecessary defiance lost on me.” The Warden rose, pulling the wrinkles out of his suit. “And, I might note, Lucifer is quite the capable assistant.”
Leathery wings flapped once more as his earlier tormentor slid from the shadow, parallel to the man. Lucifer’s body was mostly lost to the night. As Gabriel’s eyes fell upon the hood, and the swirling pond of nightfall underneath it, fear clamored back to the surface.
Even in the fog of the night, Gabriel’s response was worn clearly enough. At his reaction, the Warden’s face curled into a sneer.
“No need for any more grandstanding by either of us. Give me the location of the Staff, and it will be quick. We know you have not hidden it with the boy.”
A heavy sigh passed from Gabriel’s lips. He expended the last of his energy to push himself off the ground to stare down the Warden. “A man of your limitations could not begin to understand the true power of good the Staff holds. You may search. You and Michael will scour the Earth for it.
“I guarantee you will find it only when it is buried in you and your master’s chest, fulfilling the prophecy and illuminating this world in eternal light.”
“I have orders to procure the Staff, Gabriel,” said the Warden, whimsically. He plucked the cigar from his lips, and disinterestedly batted away the tip of smoldering ash. “How and in what manner was much to my discretion.”
Lucifer dove into the shadows and disappeared entirely.
“I suppose I should thank you for making that decision an easy one,” the Warden added.
Movement to Gabriel’s left drew his attention. A glint of silver dashed through the still air. The tip slid easily into Gabriel’s stomach. The blade tore through his dried organs and ripped his skin as it emerged through the front of his shirt. Lucifer released its grip on the sword and stood to the side as Gabriel folded like a house made from gas station playing cards.
Gabriel shuddered and trembled. He flexed his forearms, which strained his fresh wounds and shot a new wave of pain through his body.
He needed that pain.
Blood blossomed from his lips. His mandible crashed down, exposing his fangs once more. The hood of the cloaked creature cocked to one side, like a curious predator.
“We will not bow to Michael’s Armageddon,” Gabriel howled as he coated more of the asphalt with his blood and saliva cocktail.
Lucifer clasped onto the sword once more. He plucked it out of Gabriel’s stomach and slid it across Gabriel’s neck with blasé ease. Blood sprayed across the dull concrete as the blade finished through his vertebrae and separated the head from the body.
Gabriel froze.
“The boy will rise,” he croaked, before his spirit fled his body once and for all.
A twister of wind blew up from the rooftop, spiraling into a small tornado and then collapsed into the body. The two separate parts cascaded onto the ground with the force of a comet. Petrified, alabaster and as stiff as oak, what remained of the body bore more resemblance to a wax rendition than a human being.
“Yes, he will,” whispered the Warden.
Lucifer coiled up like a puppet on strings. He edged back from the body, awaiting the Warden, who stuffed the cigar back in his mouth and eased along. The clack of the loafers on the concrete was the only sound scoring the night.
As he neared the body, he pulled his neatly pressed suit back, and folded down to hover over it. He pulled the cigar out of his lips, and put the smoldering ash down onto the eyes of the body. The fire crackled on the firm skin.
“I’ve been waiting a half century for this moment. Your boy, and the humanity he meekly clings to, they should know the darkness is coming. This is simply the beginning.” The Warden rose to his feet, and brushed at the newly formed lines of his suit. Puffing at the cigar to reignite it, he twisted back in Lucifer’s direction.
“Lucifer, find Raphael and you will have the Staff.”
Lucifer nodded, spun around, and vanished through the shadow.
“Long live the Kingdom of God,” the Warden sneered as he waved his hands, tossing the remnants of cigar at the body. Flames licked out, and engulfed what remained.
The Warden turned, ambled across the moonlight soaked rooftop. He placed his hands in his pockets, and jubilantly whistled.