The Chamber of Sins

“Help him,” the girl begged while trying to get rid of the angel’s clutch.

“You will make things worse. Let him be,” Derek said.

The youngster watched them while arguing, and before they knew it, his face turned bluish.

“Do you have to take him or something?” Margo asked, confused.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“He is dying,” the girl cried.

Derek flew in the boy’s direction and scrutinised the crowd, looking for one of his colleagues. The boy shouldn’t die here today. He pushed the wristwatch button and waited for Ramiel to answer.

“Ramiel, I am sending a picture of a lad. Something is wrong with him. Tell me everything.”

“His name is Samuel Ardoin, six years old, the son of Antoine and Veronique,” Ramiel communicated. “He should be fine.”

“The boy is far away for being alright,” Derek murmured and touched the boy’s burning forehead. Margo came closer, her eyes focused on the boy.

Suddenly, the boy’s face duplicated, and a more overweening self stepped out of his body, ready to confront Derek.

“What is happening?” Margo asked, confused. “What is he?”

“It is not HE; it is an Ith’til, an angel killer. They must have found that we are vulnerable. They can sense if something is wrong,” Derek said, and put himself in front of the girl.

“You! Hide!” Derek ordered Margo.

The impersonating demon cast cunning glares at them as he faltered in their direction. Derek opened his imposing wings and prepared his sword. A blurry black fog surrounded his feet, crawling on the soil, and reaching for the demon’s hoofs.

The threads of mist intertwined and clung to the demon’s feet, helping Derek gain time to rethink his strategy. The monster continued its way, slower this time.

“It looks so real. It’s so confusing. When is it going to expose its actual face?” Margo whispered.

“Shh,” Derek said.

The child’s doppelgänger jumped and flew in the air for a couple of seconds. Four more arms stung his thin muscles and skin as he approached the land. They seemed normal limbs, but they were brute steel blades soaked in angels’ blood at a closer look. Its eyes became burning flames, its body elongated to fourteen feet, and a hairy, decomposing hump loomed on its back. Three sets of horns sprouted on its forehead and prolonged to behind his ghastly, deformed head.

Its blades aimed at Derek’s wings, but they cut the air instead, whistling like the rebellious wind in winter. The angel directed his blade at the beast’s neck as he scanned its slobbering, bloody saliva dripping from his mouth - a deadly weapon that would provoke seizures and unbearable pain. Derek’s arm described a semicircle in the horizontal direction, and Margo looked terrified as the demon’s horns scattered on the ground. He smirked and attacked again; this time, the fake arms followed. A ‘Z’ movement from Derek’s sword slit his opponent’s body. The parts fell on the soil with a dry sound.

Derek turned his back to the trash and glared at the scared girl.

“Are you alright?” He asked. “Don’t be afraid. It’s gone,” Derek tried to encourage her.

She said nothing, only her eyes depicting the terror inside her. The girl nodded and pointed somewhere behind him. He sensed the pain too late to respond. The angel gawked at his half bleeding wing lending on the ground. Another cut slid down his leg. The girl screamed and closed her eyes.

“Look out!” Robert’s voice made her check around.

She only got to see the boy’s hatchet blade slaying the demon’s throat; this time, the beast laid dead for good. The pendant spread a warm light surrounding the putrid body, making it vanish.

Robert and Margo came close to Derek. He was lying on the chilly soil, his face showing the incredible pain inside his body. His wing and leg were healing slowly, the parts missing being rebuilt.

“Where is it?” Derek asked, looking at the place where the demon stood.

“Vanished,” Robert communicated.

“What have you done?” the angel asked, unpleased.

“What do you mean?” Robert said, confused. “I helped you with whatever that was,” he said, pointing at the black trace on the pavement.

“That was an Ith’til, and you have just promoted your existence in the demon’s world.”

The wind was playing sweet music to an invisible audience. Miss Lionette passed by a small group of children. She saw their eyes wide open and their pale, trembling features and tried to prepare herself for what was about to come. She fought a rising panic as her steps forced her to the orphanage entrance. Her heart leapt into her throat at seeing the mass of meat that once had been a human being. A rotten smell mixed with the one of gore and shed intestines floated in the room. The bitter taste of the gall filled her mouth.

The warm hand touching her shoulder brought her a little comfort.

“Who is it?” she asked while looking at the indistinct body form.

“She is a nun here at this orphanage,” the policewoman updated her, “Was.”

“What happened?” Lionette asked, terrified.

“Check this,” Emily said, pointing at the dead woman. Something sharp tore her body apart, traces of it imprinted in the flooring around the body. The deep ditches marked in the wooden floor showed the supernatural power of its possessor. They continued between the victim’s naked legs. The right one was broken from the knee and turned upside down, and the body was submerged in a sea of blood. The marks seemed to stop at the wall by the door. Emily examined them, her gloved hands touching with care the torn wallpaper painted in blood.

“The attack started here,” Emily briefed.

Lionette couldn’t stop contemplating the dead woman’s bulging, darkened eyes. With her face bathed in blood, her lips petrified in an ironic smile, she left the world in the most brutal way possible.

“Who did it?” Lionette asked.

“Rather, what did it? I think it was something from another world.”

Lionette noticed a light red liquid spattering the woman’s alabaster shoulder. It was the only place where the flesh was covered by skin. She touched it and sniffed it. The rotten smell penetrated deep into her nose.

“It was a demonic attack,” Lionette muttered. “Others will come,” she continued. She felt an increasing tension in her facial muscles.

“Look, I have something urgent to do, but I will be all yours tonight,” Lionette told Emily. She got a warm wave inside, seeing Emily’s smile. “See you at seven-thirty at Jardin des roses,” Lionette said while hurrying to her car.

Being out with Emily made Lionette feel safe. Their last date was three months ago, and she realised that their relationship might not work at this pace. She peeked at Emily’s classic features. The flicker of the candlelight helped expose her fair skin and the multitude of fine lines engraved on her soft skin. Her raven hair, tumbling over her shoulders, clothed her fragile body to the breast level. Resting on the dark blue tablecloth, her hand had a delicate moonstone ring on its middle finger.

“I see you are wearing it,” Lionette said, her voice covered by the melodic line of a solo saxophone.