All Life Demons

Far removed from the day-to-day trials and tribulations of every-day men and women is the world of quite a different life-style. Far, far away, past all the planets and moons and stars lies a grand utopian city unlike any other. Floating on nothing but fluffy, delicate, snow-white clouds, Heaven is truly a sight to behold. At the entrance of the ethereal domain is a large golden gate that shines so proudly, it is almost blinding to the eye. Just off to the side of the great gate stands a wooden podium with an ancient tome resting open atop. Behind the podium, the great Saint Peter leans into the book with inked quill in hand, scratching in the names of the newly arrived.

Today is a grand and exciting day for those in the great beyond. After traveling the globe for the better part of a year, the famed Archangel Michael has finally returned to Paradise with enough tales to whet the appetite of the most adventure curious. Just finishing up his tale to a group of fledgling angels about how he thwarted yet another of Satan’s evil plans to dominate over mankind, Michael stretches out his large wingspan and limbs, about to retire for the evening.

“Excuse me, sir?” a young man in his early twenties inquired of the Archangel nervously, bunching up the fabric of his robe in his hands.

“Yes?” Michael responded, smiling warmly at him.

“Did everything in your tale really happen? Not that I think you’re lying but, but-”

“My lad, my lad,” the angel wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “I must admit, some of our bigger exploits sometimes seem incredulous even to us. But they are all true nevertheless. See here…”

Rolling up his sleeve, Michael revealed an ugly wound on his shoulder. Dark brown dried blood was still caked to the injury

“That is a deep bite mark from my latest battle with quite a persistent demon.”

Upon seeing the young man’s horrified expression, Michael pulled him in comfortingly once more. “Do not fret my dear boy. It no longer pains me, and it was be completely healed by morning. Now you better move along, I think I see your mother over yonder, looking quite impatient.”

The young man shook his head and sighed. “She has always been like that, even when she was alive. Goodbye then, sir, I hope to hear another one of your tales soon.”

“I’m sure you will. And please, call me Michael. ‘Sir’ sounds too formal for my liking.”

Rolling down his sleeve and smoothing out his long gown underneath the shining body armor, Michael headed back in the direction of his home, a small one-room cottage about a five minutes walk away, on the edge of the city.

“Michael, Michael!!” Hand still gripped around the knob to his front door, the Archangel turned around to see who shouted his name.

“Why, if it isn’t Gabriel, my dear old friend. It’s been awhile. How are you?” Michael cried happily, throwing his arms around his old companion.

“It has been some time since I last saw you. You look more worn out than usual. Don’t tell me the great protector of man actually met his match?!”

“Ha! Hardly,” Michael chuckled. “But I will admit, they are getting more clever. But have no fear, my dear friend; I’m still just as quick and dangerous as I always was.”

“Is that so?” Gabriel nudged playfully.

“Is that a challenge?” Michael asked with a smirk.

“You bet’cha!!” said Gabriel matter-of-factly before pulling a long sword from the sheath around his waist. “How ‘bout it, old man? Or is a sword-fight too out of your league?”

“Ho, ho, do not speak so proudly and boldly too soon, my friend Gabriel. But soon enough, we will see who is the better between us.”

While Gabriel took a few practice swings, Michael unsheathed the most magnificent of weapons. A broad-bladed metal sword with a hilt of shimmering silver that was longer than his playful opponent’s.

Grasping the hilts tightly in their right hands, both angels held their weapons across from one another. Both nodding in sync to begin, both opponents separated and drew back their weapons, waiting for the other to make the first move. Shuffling his sandaled feet along the airy ground, Gabriel thrust forward, only to meet Michael’s cold steel with a metallic twang. Again, both angels drew back, keeping both eyes diligently on the other as they sized each other up.

Making his move this time, Michael thrust in, only to immediately pull it back, leaving Gabriel trying to slice thin air.

“I told you I still have it,” Michael laughed, sword still poised in position.

“I concede, friend. Your sword work is still as skilled and gracefully as ever. But the real question is, how fairs well your footwork?”

“Only one way to find out, is there not?”

Before Gabriel could make another interjection, Michael jabbed at his friend’s right side and moved to the left, causing the other to turn as well. Metal sang through the air as the two shuffled back and forth in a complete circle, neither one wanting to throw away a victory despite the beads of sweat forming on their foreheads and their breathing getting heavy.

Not giving in just yet, both halted for a breath after Gabriel’s sword pierced through the cloth of Michael’s robe.

“Again, you impress me, friend Michael,” Gabriel praised, wiping his left hand across his brow.

“If you thought that was impressive, wait until I have you beat,” Michael boasted and raised his sword once more.

“Well, well, well. Now look who is becoming cocky,” Gabriel noted, raising an eyebrow at his companion.

Squaring off in the middle once more, both angels stayed close together after thrusting at each other. Leaping through the air, each took turns blocking the others’ shots and thrusting with loud clanks and zings. Soon enough, a small crowd of lesser angels began to gather and watch from a distance. The sound of metal-on-metal was so deafening that it overpowered the sound of nearby harps.

The small crowd, which has now significantly grown, was now divided between cheering for their favored Archangel. The only ones who did not hear all the commotion-the fighters themselves.

Now exchanging jabs and blows atop a neighbor’s cottage, the battle looked like it was tipping in the favor of Gabriel.

“Ah ha! Now I’ve got you, you ruffian!” Gabriel joked, as he continued to beat down on Michael, who was struggling to balance on a much lower part of the roof than his friend. Much like a tail does for an animal in any precarious situation, Michael spread out his wings to their fullest width to regain stability. Trying to give himself a better advantage than his position normally would not allow, Michael began thrusting next to and in between Gabriel’s legs, attempting to knock him off his base. When that did not work, he jabbed upward again to meet his friend back at his chest-level. Wanting to capitalize on his companion’s mistake, Gabriel made the same exact move, slicing his sword low to the ground right in front of Michael’s legs.

Not expecting it, Michael stepped backwards. Trying to maintain his balance, he did not see the loose shingle underneath his feet and promptly slid down to the very edge. Struggling to keep his feet securely planted on the bar, he spread his wings out again, while his arms flailed back and forth in sheer panic. After swaying for a few more seconds, Michael’s exhausted legs, which had been sent to the brink of near collapse, gave out from under him, and his tumbled over the edge.

Thinking fast on how to best cushion the blow, Michael quickly tucked his wings behind his back. Then came a stomach dropping crunch and thud.

Gabriel and the crowd gasped in unison. Being high up on the roof, Gabriel could not see where or how Michael landed from his vantage point that he was sure the audience could. Almost afraid to see, he looked anyway. Sword still in hand, but momentarily forgotten, the Archangel gently floated down to his friend’s aid. There, he was surprised to see Michael in a sitting up position. So the landing was not as hard as he had hoped. That, at least made him sigh in relief until he saw the pained expression on his companion’s face.

Turning his weapon point-first into the ground, Michael used it to lean against to help him stand again. Though now standing with one hand on the hilt, something was obviously wrong as he either would not or could not stand straight.

“Dearest Michael, if your legs trouble you, support yourself with your wings if you have the strength,” Gabriel encouraged with a concerned expression.

Looking like he was using all his strength to do so, first he extended his great left wing out. Gabriel immediately noticed the problem, and what had produced the sickening crunch sound as Michael struggled with the left. His eyes grew watery and his face grew bright red with pain as he forced the broken right wing out. When he fell, the right wing must not have tucked under fast enough and instead of it protecting him, his body crushed it like an accordion.

Finally dropping his sword, Gabriel rushed to his friend’s side. “Here, allow me to walk you back to your house so that you may rest. The soon you are in bed, the sooner this may heal.”

Michael, who still had his sword firmly gripped between his fingers shook his head. “No friend. We must finish this and know once and for all, which one of us is strongest in battle.”

“But Michael, think reasonably. You are in no condition to continue the fight. Please, let me take you home.”

“Take up your sword again, Gabriel. I do not need my wings to hold mine.”

Unsure of what else to do to sway his friend, Gabriel did as he was told. The fight commenced again, with him taking the obvious upper hand against his wounded opponent. The battle had now taken them across to the other side of the street and up against another house. This time, both needed to be very careful where they stepped because after a little piece of backyard was a large drop-off. What was several thousands of miles underneath them? The earthly realm of mortals.

Attempting to turn the match around in his favor once more, Michael did some quick fancy foot work and began baring down on his friend.

“See? I told you I can still turn this around, injured wing or not,” he grinned slyly.

“And as you said before, it’s not over until it’s over,” Gabriel grinned back.

Countering Michael previous move, Gabriel took back control and trapped him with his back facing nothing but open air.

“Do you concede that I am the victor?” Gabriel calmly asked, knowing that he finally had his friend beat.

“Tisk, tisk, do you really think you know me better than that?” Michael smirked.

Without another word, Michael stepped forward and drove his sword out. Gabriel met his sword with a noisy clash and both of them spun around, each in the same mind-frame. From spinning so fast, a whirlwind was created around them. Where Gabriel could easily keep himself grounded, Michael was having clear and present trouble, not being able to comfortable tuck in his broken wing. Caught in the high winds, it blew him away from his friend and over the drop-off. Terrified that his friend was now falling like a stone, Gabriel rushed over to the cloud edge and peeked over. To his relief, there was Michael, hanging on to the cloud for dear life with his left hand.

“Stay calm, Michael, I’m going to pull you up,” Gabriel reassured him; though it felt more like he was reassuring himself.

Tightly holding on to Michael wrist and forearm with both hands, Gabriel pulled with all his might. Michael tried to help him by getting a solid footing on the cloud, but it was too cold and slippery and it just left his legs dangling in mid-air.

“Hurry, friend, I do not think I can hold on to this cloud much longer!” Michael motivated him.

Sliding across the slippery cloud himself, Gabriel continued to pull on his friend’s arm while trying to find a solid enough footing. The cloud, however, would not cooperate, and Gabriel began to lose his grip.

Panic quickly setting in, the angel started yelling for him to pull him up faster.

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” Gabriel cried, barely being able to hold on to his fingers.

Straining with all his might not to let go, finally, worst imaginable happened, and Michael slipped through his fingers. Half-fluttering in mid-air, sporadically for a few seconds like a butterfly with an injured wing, Michael was able to stay suspended for short time before finally plummeting. Again, he tried forcing his lame wing straight out in a last ditch effort to fly back up, but it was useless. Falling faster than the speed of sound, and Archangel lost all consciousness as he entered the mortal atmosphere; the protective yet deadly gases melting off both his wings as he collided with the night earth with an impact nothing should be able to survive.