The Wicked End

The battle had been raging for two days. Already, one half the legions of angels and repenters had fallen under the power of the Army of the Damned. Already it seemed as though all hope had gone for the Army of the Divine to win. And all along, all Johnny and I had done was stay cooped up on our rocky ledge in the mountains, watching as countless souls were slain.

We watched as the battle spread backward into the city. We watched as the battle spread forward, all the way to the very steps of the white palace of the Antichrist. And we watched as the rocks and dirt of the ground were splattered with blood. And still, we did nothing. Nothing but watch.

I wanted to join the fight. I was the key to the war, after all. Maybe if I actually fought in it, the tides would start turning in our favor. But Johnny had told me to stay with him, to not go running off. And because I trusted him, I listened.

Watching as swords clanged and bodies were claimed down below, the lightning flashed above my head, the beating of thunder drowning out the sounds of war.

"Johnny," I said, looking at him from over my shoulder. He was sat leaning against the rock wall, his sword in hand as he sharpened it carefully. He looked up at me, acknowledging my address of him, but not saying a word. "I want to fight."

Johnny looked back up at me again, and then shook his head to himself as he put his attention back on how sword. "It is not yet your time, Davanee," he said, speaking quietly.

"This is wrong. I should be fighting down there with the rest of them, not watching as they are all killed."

"You must be patient, Davy. Trust me, you will get your chance to fight," Johnny replied, but I wouldn't take no for an answer.

Leaping to my feet, I crossed the distance of rock between us and grabbed his sword, running toward the way we had come up the mountain before he had any idea what had happened.

"Davanee!" I heard Johnny's voice to my back, but I continued on, down, down the rocks, scrabbling to gain footholds on my way. "Davy, you don't even have a shield!"

He was right - in my haste I had taken naught but his sword. But it was too late for me to turn and go back. I had already stumbled down half the rocky, uneven path, and if I went back to Johnny I would only feel foolish for going off in the first place.

Surely, I lost my footing on a rock and tripped, tumbling along my back and sides as I rolled, sharp jutting pieces of stone stabbing and prodding into my skin. My sword was thrown from my grasp, landing before me with a clang on the granite as I came to a stop on my stomach. Once my breath had returned, I quickly grabbed my sword once more, getting to my feet and running from my place at the bottom of the mountain toward the teeming groups of fighters.

All too soon, I was met with a man about middle age; he was nothing more than a sinner, but the look in his eyes as he ran toward me with his sword drawn told me he possessed more evil than I knew. Bringing my sword up, I blocked his blow and the meeting of the two metals shook my body with force.

Quickly I spun, knocking my foe's sword off mine and without warning thrust my sword forward. The man bore no shield, and with his cry of agony, my sword was sunk deep into his belly, his mortal soul quickly fading.

Pulling my sword out, his body quickly fell, and I wasted no time watching him die. I ran, finding more to fight, more lives to take. Until I had met my maker.

He wore the blackened skin of a demon, his eyes glowing red and two horns rising from his forehead. How was I to kill an immortal with just a sword?

"Davy, no!" I could hear Johnny call, but I raised my blade and brought it down. The demon grabbed the metal above his head, wrenching it from my grasp and throwing it down. He grabbed my arm and I cried out, my flesh burning away at the touch of this unholy being.

"Johnny!" I screamed, and suddenly I saw a flash of bright light coming from behind me. A force rushed past and the demon let go, just moments before I was sure he would kill me. Thrown to the ground, I watched as the demon flew into the air, his body imploding with the power bore through the light.

"Davy," I heard Johnny pant as he rushed to my side, and we both looked down at my arm. The skin and part of the muscle had been burned away, smoke still rising into the air. I could see clear down to the bone, and whimpered at the pain shooting through me.

"Johnny..." I cried, and he pulled my body to his, shushing me.

"Just close your eyes, Davy. Everything will be okay," he whispered, and I closed my eyes. Seconds later I opened them, and we were back on the ledge on the mountain, quick as lightning. Johnny placed his hands over my wound and instantly I felt a rise in heat and pressure in my arm.

I cried out in pain as Johnny started to repair my arm, rebuilding muscle and skin. In a matter of seconds, my arm was in perfect repair, and all pain was gone.

"Johnny, how did you-" I started, breathlessly.

"I told you not to go, Davanee. Do you understand me now? It is not your time to fight," he cut in sternly, and the look in his eyes was one I had never seen before from him. He looked both angry and disappointed in me, and I hung my head in shame.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, but received no reply. Johnny stood and walked to the edge of the cliff, looking down at the warriors, his arms crossed in front of him.

"You will get your turn, Davanee. Perhaps sooner than you think."