|
Prolific Writer
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Just west of the Cascade Mountains....couple miles from the pacific ocean puget sound
Gender: Male
Posts: 283
|
Raw Unedited untitled Thanks everyone for your advice. Iam grateful..heres more
With a vision only possessed of heavenly inhabitants, the archangel watched with a different sight, it was if he were there with her, with Kera. Truth be known in the physical realm of mans world, he was many light years away, but Raphael was not limited to mans physics or laws. He watched because even though the adversary was not present to witness the vile acts to come, Raphael would be. Slowly, with power and resolve, the angel spread open his wings. He wore on his feet sandals, straps of gold wove over his feet and up the ankle. His robe was a shimmering midnight blue, ripples of color and reflections moved through the garment, rendering it almost a living cloak. Yet, this was all forgotten compared to the glory of his wings. The inside of the wings were like mirrors, shimmering concentrating light as if a million suns had exploded all at once. The wreath across his brow, woven gold and silver, stopped at histemples. The belt, like the robe and cloak, alive, a vibrant burgundy, brilliant in its splendor. And the sword, forged in heavens furnace in the heat at the birth of the stars. It was like nothing else in all the known dimensions, unbreakable, seemingly made of crystal or diamond. Light was pulled to its edges and like a prism, it bent and separated light. Its edges living color, sharp enough to penetrate any armor, any shield. When it was swung in battle, it would sing in glorious tones as it split the ether of space and time.
Raphael pulled the sword from its sheath pointing it upward toward the Most High. His voice, a velvet baritone, spoke in prayer. “O Holy Cross by you hell is despoiled, by you its mouth is closed to the redeemed, by you demons are made afraid, restrained and trampled under foot. Glory be to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. Amen.” Raphael knew he couldn’t help the girl. Silently he asked the Blessed Virgin to help her at the end.
Diablophetes would not show himself. The former royal sentry and traitor had receded into the soul of the man., leaving orders then taking the cowards path. He had never slain the first born of a kingdom. Dio had never turned a city to salt or made all water as blood.
Raphael had stood with Michael, Gabriel, Phillip, Talbot, shoulder to shoulder he had stood with all of Gods’ first knights, the archangels. He had fought the wicked fallen, battled almost to the death with Little Horn, until Michael came and saved him. Raphael was meant to be a healing spirit, a companion in times of doubt. Through truth he would restore faith to those who stumbled. His sword was the Sword of Truth. Nothing could hide from it, man or not. God had created all things and the Sword of Truth was most mighty. Michael wore the Sword of Justice, Phillip, the Sword of Liberty, Gabriel wielded the Horn of all Heralds, Talbot the Bow of Integrity, which kept the arrows of love and goodness. Together, these were the weapons of the word of God, the foundation of heaven. Everything in heaven and on earth was, because God spoke it.
Raphael swept his wings once, up and down, instantly he was in flight. He soared above the heavens, looked down to earth, drew back his wings and vanished on a rail of light. He moved many hundreds of times faster than light speed. A being made of light, but not of any spectrum known to the science or wisdom of man. His destination was in the southeast of the new world. There he would meet several seraphim, volunteers prepared to be destroyed in their effort to assist the man whose soul they already knew. A gathering would take place away from men. Offerings had to be made. Praises to be sung. After the rituals were completed…battle.
Kera had barely coherent thoughts. She was on auto pilot. Breathing, staring, occasionally she would say “please.”
Zac was about to bring her back. Make her acutely alert. He let go of the metal clip, it was spring loaded, made to attach to an electric post. Jagged little teeth squeezed mercilessly into the flesh of both of Keras’ nipples. New sharp pain brought fresh, harsh muffled screaming. Zac put duct tape over her mouth. He had run the extension cord from the electric service box. Kera was directly connected to four hundred forty volts of raw electricity. The clips now running dark red with her blood would close the connection. Zac pushed the male pronged end he held, into the extension cord.
No sound was made, Keras eyes rolled into her head. Zac watched intently, filled with glee. One of her nipples, black now, blew, sending the clip bouncing and sparking off her body. With each contact, her back arched unnaturally bowing so much one would expect to hear bones snapping. Zac unplugged the cords. He approached her tentatively, unsure if she could pass a shock to him. He removed the clip the other clip, the burnt smell of flesh searing his senses.
Zac loved it.
“You see, little slut. Now, you know what punishments awaits your kind.”
Kera didn’t hear the words. Her heart was fluttering, not beating. Organs had misfired. She had lost her urine and feces again. Vomit filled her mouth and would soon make its way to her trachea. Keras brain was dying, starved of oxygen, it would soon, gratefully, shut down.
Zac knew he could not bring her back to consciousness. He acted quickly, ripping the tape off her mouth, loosening the vice on her head. He moved her up on the table, where her head would drop off the edge and with one swift swipe of his blade he slit Keras throat. The cut so high up on the neck that the white of bone and tendons of the jaw musclecould be seen. Blood flooded out of her. Zac dropped to his knees letting the warm cascade drench his face andshirtless body. He climaxed. A deep, guttural, grunting gasp escaped him. Euphoria. Bliss. Aaaaahhh…He sat motionless until the torrent subsided. Slowly, he stood, the blood congealing in his hair and on his body. Looking down at the lifeless body, he snarled, ramming his hands into the gaping wound. He yanked the girls tongue through the slit, a touch he wished he had thought of before. A shame, he thought, as his pleasure shrank away. This was a good spot. Zac would find another, he always did. He knew things, somehow.
|
