Genesis of a Hero by Chris Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

looked sideways at his strangely giggling sister.
    “Yeah, they have,” she cackled and black wings extended behind her back. Oily tar dripped from the rotting feathers.
    “Did God grant you those?” John asked as he hunkered down – ready to spring into action at any second. “Or did Lucifer? If you got them before you fell from God’s grace, I bet they used to be a lot prettier. And they smelled better too. How do you stand that stench?” He wafted his hand in front of his scrunched nose at the sulfuric taint in the air.
    “At least we know the truth,” Charles snarled grinding on the butt of the cigar. “And even if you won’t accept it, we’re here to send you to the oblivion that waits for you when God gobbles your soul. More angels out of our way so we can do our work in… peace.” At that he laughed and looked over his shoulder.
    Behind him, two more fallen angels tromped through the employee only door. One was a tall, black woman with mesmerizing, brown eyes. H er putrid wings were spread high and thin. A red halo glowed over her head. Next to her was a short, Hispanic man with his chin tucked to his chest. Black fog wafted over his hands and crawled up the deadly broadsword held in front of him.
    “If you manage to kill us,” Denise spat. “I’ll smile and pray for you when Jesus is wrapping me in his arms. For God, we fight!” With that, she sprang through the grated gate that divided the room. Her wings and halo shined in the dim room. The Spirit sang worship as she struck at Christy with the curved sword in her right hand. From the scepter in her left, bright shots of divine power pelted at the fallen angels.
    John darted forward and blocked a blow from Charles’ jagged blade. The swords sparked and John kicked out with his right foot. It caught the black woman in the chest and she careened into the closest refrigerator. It burst open and gigantic sides of frozen meet clattered onto the concrete floor.
    A cloud of putrid oil poured from the Hispanic man’s palms. The gagging smell of rotted eggs filled the room and reached for John. Only with the Spirit did he manage to hold the paralyzing attack at bay. The soft light hit the oozing foulness and dissolved it with a hiss.
    “It will be a lot easier for me to do my job after you’re dead,” Charles growled and swung. John dodged and the sword plunged through the food preparation table as if it was hot butter. He turned to strike a blow that would incapacitate the fallen angel, but smoky shackles twisted into existence over his knees. Pain erupted from the fiery touch of Lucifer’s chains.
    The Hispanic man laughed and squeezed his hand making the chains tighten until John was sure his legs might snap. He flipped onto the ceiling with his wings flexed to hold him upright - above another slash from Charles. Thrusting towards his feet, he stabbed through two of the links. The pain lifted immediately as the chain puffed into black smoke. From his scepter a bright stream of power shot at the Hispanic fallen angel.
    The burst of the Spirit knocked the man from his feet, but before John could utter even the smallest shout of joy, a blur to his right yanked at his attention. “No!” he yelled as Denise fell under the onslaught of Christy and the black woman. Her sword tumbled across the floor into the pile of water hoses. John dove and crashed into Christy’s head. His weight crushed her to the floor in a heap. Vile curses and grunts of pain shrieked from her mouth. Black, smoky tar poured from her skin as she called upon Lucifer’s vile powers, but the pure whiteness of the Spirit’s touch melted and absorbed the filth.
    Charles swarmed at John’s exposed ribs with a terrible look of glee on his grubby face. The distance was on the fallen angel’s side. John’s arms moved, but knew he’d be too late. The sword was closing faster. Inch by inch it sped at its unguarded target. To plunge through his ribcage into his heart.
    But b efore the