Abaddon Page #2

This is my first attempt at writing a short story. I love reading fantasy and horror and this started out as that. It's no longer so much a horror story and just kind of became its own thing.

• Short story
• Fantasy

								

	“You know, I could make great use of someone with your resilience” Abaddon says. “Imagine the power you could yield. The vermin of this planet would bow at your feet or die in their resistance. All you need do is bow before me.”
	“I only kneel to one being, and that is the Father” Michael spits, the gilded blood that has flowed into his mouth flying to the pavement. “Now, stop with your games and give me a proper fight!”
	Without a word, Abaddon slings another tendril of locusts in Michael’s direction. The angel is ready this time and anticipates the attack. Gripping his shield in front of him, Michael dashes straight towards the demon, deflecting the swarm as he runs. Faster than fighter jet, he is on the demon grabbing his throat. Sheathing his sword, Michael slams his gauntleted fist into Abaddon’s stony skinned face. Faster than a jackhammer, he continues to pummel the demon. Dropping his shield, Michael then grips Abaddon by his horns with both hands. He begins to spin. Holding the demon at arms length he twirls Abaddon, gaining momentum prepping for a hammer throw. Spinning so fast that neither saint nor fiend can be distinguished, Michael releases in the direction of a parked bus. Abaddon is slung into the large vehicle, first impacting with the engine compartment. The force is so great that the engine explodes in a shower of cast iron shrapnel and engine oil, the demon crashing through the length of the bus and landing in a heap thirty feet behind it. Before Abaddon can regain his composure, Michael is on him again delivering a kick that rivals the world's greatest football players. The demon comes to a stop another twenty feet down the road.
	Abaddon attempts to stand, stumbling awkwardly trying to maintain his balance. Michael confidently saunters towards the demon. “Your time on this earthly plane Abaddon, though short, has come to an end” says Michael taking deep breaths, drinking in the air. “I am a defender, the protector of the human race.” The angel closes in to the demon, getting nose to nose with him. “With the Father on my side, I. Cannot. Lose.”
	“Michael,” Abaddon quietly says. “You’ve always been so confident in your ability. However, everyone’s time comes at some point. Your faith is your downfall.”
	Michael’s glowing blue eyes go wide as Abaddon thrusts his rocky hand forward and stabs the angel in his side. Looking down, Michael sees that the demon was concealing some sort of blade. A fiery, searing pain rips through the angel's guts. It appears to be the tip of a spear that the demon is pushing deeper into the angels ribs twisting while he does so.
	“Would you like to know what this is?” says Abaddon. “This is the fabled spear of longinus. The very spear that pierced the side of your precious savior.”
	Michael’s veins begin to bulge underneath his skin, the swelling snaking its way all through his vascular system, turning black.
	“How?” Michael manages to mutter whilst dropping to his knees, losing his strength.
	“Oh, this?” says Abaddon. “How best to say this, I borrowed a little bit of the dark lord’s blood. Then, I made a little side trip to the Vatican before I came looking for you. It’s amazing what a little religious artifact can do if it's dipped in and corrupted by the life essence of the evilest being to have ever existed. You see, I played you like a fiddle Michael. You fell right into my trap. Thanks to your hubris, you can lay here and rot as I carry out the dark lord’s wishes. Go to oblivion knowing with your final thoughts that you lost.”
	With a final pat to Michael’s cheek, Abaddon stood and casually walked away down the street to continue with his nefarious plan.

Chad and I walk out into the street, gawking at the carnage. Carefully, we make our way over to the angel. His once golden blood is now black, corrupted by the blood of the devil. Michael, earth’s divine protector and defender, is dead.
	“Shit” says Chad dumbfounded. “If the one that was supposed to protect us from evil is dead, what happens now?”
	“I don’t know, but it cannot be good” I say. “I guess it's the end of the world.” 
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