Heaven and Hell
The streets were a blur as the Boogieman sped past the neighborhood to the church which the reverend preached at. A few moments later, it arrived.
Nobody would be dreaming this early. No need to search. The Boogieman moved straight into the church and began looking for the reverend. It was not busy, but also not empty. A small group of men and women remained, chatting by the main door. Three individuals were praying inside. The Boogieman kept to the shadows, and was able to observe unnoticed.
It was not long until it spotted the Reverend. He was dressed in black, and had a metal cross hung around his neck. He stood to the front, apparently tidying the area around the altar. Still alive. Paul felt a wave of relief.
The Boogieman inched through the shadows to get closer to the Reverend. It moved to the podium when the Reverend was looking the other way, and hid in the shadow of the box. There, Paul contemplated the situation.
With this large a group of witnesses, I cannot make my move yet. But then again, neither will the Angel. The day is quickly ending… can it make its move in time?
A scream pierced the quiet atmosphere from the outside. Seconds later, the door swung open with a brilliant flash of light. Paul instinctively shielded his eyes, but there was no need. Technically, it did not even have eyes.
It looked back towards the entrance. The remaining stragglers were running away. A figure stood by the entrance. It was made of pure white light, with an outline of what looked like a long flowing robe. It walked with a gait, as if preferring his right foot. There were no wings.
Not much of an Angel, without wings.
The reverend cowered behind the pews as the light approached. Paul heard him mutter a prayer and cry silently to himself. Paul was amused. His prayers would be answered… by the Boogieman.
The Boogieman stepped out from the podium, dark mists trailing where it walked and emanating from its form. One hand closed into a fist, and its signature scythe was formed.
The Angel paused, as if hesitating. It only lasted for a second. As the figure stopped, it moved its hand across its side, unsheathing a sword.
That explains the gait. The Boogieman moved past the Reverend and stood in the center between the rows of pews. It held its staff before itself with the base planted on the ground, signalling its intentions to guard the passageway.
The Angel moved closer. It casually pointed its sword towards the Boogieman. The dark figure did not budge. The Angel moved its sword back, continuing to point towards the Boogieman. It stepped forward with its left foot, and took an attacking stance- holding the blade now with both hands.
A moment of tense silence. The Boogieman waited for the Angel to make its move. The Angel waited for a reaction.
In a flash of power honed from years of skill and experience, the Angel burst forward and slashed at the Boogieman. The Boogieman did not move to defend itself, and fell backwards against the altar.
An intense pain ripped through Paul’s chest. He felt like he was just sliced in half. He looked down, checking his body. It formed back together as mist that was cut. There was no damage, but he felt the sword. It was a sharp pain- quickly over, but was replaced by a burning sensation.
The Boogieman looked up and saw that the scythe had evaporated. He quickly formed another and stood up.
The Angel lunged at the dark figure again, but this time the Boogieman was prepared. He knocked the swing away and swung back with the scythe. The Angel dodged backwards to avoid the hit.
With more caution, the Boogieman strode forward with its scythe, blocking and attacking in turn. While the Angel seemed to be more experience, the Boogieman had a much longer reach. The Boogieman blocked and attacked with both sides of its weapon and held its ground.
Seemingly frustrated, the Angel leapt at the Boogieman. As the Boogieman prepared the scythe for a powerful swing, the Angel seemed to throw something. Several bright flashes darted with tremendous speed towards the Boogieman. The dark figure distorted just in time to miss most of them, but two aimed straight at the middle glanced the shoulders instead. The Boogieman stumbled backwards in pain once again, unable to complete the fatal swing. It did, however, raise its scythe just enough to catch the Angel on the foot.
Surprisingly, the scythe connected. The Boogieman felt a hard jerk, and he pulled instinctively. The Angel was thrown backwards by the ankle where the tip of the scythe had embedded into the joint. A brilliant flash accompanied the crash. This attack seemed to deter the Angel, and instead of pursuing the fight, it flashed past the door which it came from.
5:28pm.
Tags: Angel, boogieman, Evelyn, Paul, peng tiong, short story