Chapter 3. The Angel of Death

The Armageddon had torn earth into bits and pieces. Humans were now divided into two factions; 'The Believers' which comprised of Christians, Muslims and anyone who believes in God. Then there's those who call themselves 'The Acolytes', these people have thrown themselves into the arms of Lucifer, they had sold their souls to the Devil and accepted the mark of the beast (666).

Recently Acolytes have been performing ungodly rituals to summon higher rank demons into the world. And right this moment, another ritual was about to occur.

The occultic acolytes cackled with glee as they bound the family of three with rusty chains. The father, mother, and child struggled and pleaded, but their cries fell on deaf ears.

Just as the lead acolyte raised his dagger for the sacrifice, the sky darkened, and lightning illuminated the dark clouds. Thunder boomed, making the ground tremble. The acolytes paused, sensing something was amiss.

That's when they saw him - a figure clad in a black biker suit, with a pair of black wings flapping slowly on his back. He descended from the sky, his eyes fixed on the acolytes. Two katana swords hung at his sides, and his presence seemed to draw the very air out of the atmosphere.

The acolytes stumbled backward as the figure landed softly on the ground. He stood tall, his wings folding behind him like a dark cloak. The family of three could not keep their gaze off the figure in front of them.

"An Angel..?" One of the Acolyte stuttered.

"Thou shall not have them, I forbid thee to lay thy hand on those blessed by the Almighty Creator." the figure declared, his voice low and commanding.

The lead acolyte sneered. "And who are you to stop us?"

The figure slowly drew his katana swords, their blades glinting in the faint light.

"I am Michaelis, the Angel of Death. And thee, mortals, are no match for me."

The acolytes snarled, drawing their own weapons. "We'll show you the true power of the occult!"

Michaelis smiled grimly. "Thou beareth no inclination of what power is. Nevertheless, I shall educate thee on the concept of true power."

With a swift motion, Michaelis charged at the acolytes, his swords flashing in the darkness. The battle was fierce, the clash of steel on steel ringing out into the stormy night.

Michaelis sliced through the acolytes with ease, his katana swords dancing in the dim light. The lead acolyte, a burly man with a twisted grin, charged at Michaelis with a crude spear.

"You'll never stop the ritual!" he bellowed, thrusting the spear at Michaelis' chest.

Michaelis sidestepped the attack with ease, his wings fluttering slightly as he moved. "Thou art no match for me, mortal," he said, striking down the acolyte with a swift slash of his sword.

The other acolytes faltered, their eyes wide with fear. One of them, a scrawny man with a scruffy beard, tried to flee, but Michaelis caught him with a swift kick, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Please, mercy!" the man begged, cowering at Michaelis' feet.

Michaelis stood over him, his sword raised. "Of thee that showeth no mercy to the innocent," he said, his voice cold. "Expect none from me."

With a swift strike, Michaelis ended the acolyte's life. The others fled in terror, abandoning their dark ritual.

As the last acolyte fell, Michaelis turned to the bound family. "Thou art free, for whosoever the son of man sets free is free indeed." he said, cutting their chains with a swift stroke of his sword.

The family stumbled forward, embracing each other in relief. "Thank you," the father whispered, his eyes shining with gratitude. He couldn't believe he was seeing a real Angel, his faith rised to the brim.

Michaelis nodded, his expression softening. "Thou art safe now. But know this - the forces of darkness will not stop until they claim this world. Thou must be vigilant. Watch and pray, lest ye fall into temptation"

As the family nodded, a dark figure emerged from the shadows - .Baphomet; The idol of the Templars and symbol of occult knowledge.

"You are not Michael, you are not Azrael, yet you have both their energy signature. Who are you?," Baphomet croaked, his eyes blazing with malevolence. "It seems the Heavens have so little faith in Man. Now little one, I extend a hand to you, join Lucifer and rule this world together."

Michaelis drew his swords, ready for battle. "I, Michaelis, the Angel of Death, born of Man, reborn in the Holy Spirit, tasked by the Almighty Creator, will always stand against thee, demon of hell."

Baphomet, now in the form of a twisted demon, sneered at Michaelis. "You may have won this small battle and stopped this ritual, but the war is far from over," he growled, his voice like a rusty gate.

Michaelis stood firm, his swords at the ready. "I shall stop thee every time, demon. Ye shall never claim this world."

The demon snarled, baring jagged teeth. "We'll see about that, Angel of Death. You may have power, but we have numbers. And soon, we'll have the ritual completed."

Michaelis smiled grimly. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

With a swift motion, Michaelis charged at the demon, his swords flashing in the dim light. The demon retaliated with a wave of dark energy, but Michaelis dodged it with ease.

"Thou art no match for me, demon," Michaelis said, striking down the demon with a swift slash of his sword.

As the demon dissipated into nothingness, Michaelis gazed towards the Heavens.

"Father I pray thee, grant me fluent speech to communicate with humans."

Then he turned to the family. "You must leave this place," he said, his expression serious. "The forces of darkness will return, and next time, I may not be here to stop them."

The family nodded, still shaken but grateful. "Thank you, Angel Michaelis," the father said, his voice filled with emotion. "We owe you our lives."

Michaelis nodded, his expression softening. "You owe me nothing. Just stay safe, and know that the Creator hasn't abandoned you, he is always be watching over you. Now go, spread word of what has happened today, so that every believer will have renewed faith and energy."

As the family fled into the night, Michaelis stood watch, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of further danger. He knew the forces of darkness would return, and next time, he'd be ready.