Friday, September 4, 2015
Excerpt - In the Arms of the Angels - Where Demons Dare to Tread
CHAPTER One
Guardians
The old house had been in the family for decades.Six generations of Carabons have birthed, lived, and died in this ancestral home.The stone house was well maintained.All the years of life only added to the unique character of the estate. The west side of the yard exploded with various colored roses.All the bushes, in full bloom, were neatly trimmed and meticulously pruned.Yellow climbing roses intertwined the trellis forming a sweet aroma-filled walkway to the back gate. On each side were rows of red and yellow rose bushes embracing the walk way.Luscious green Ivy had long since covered the south wall in the back yard boring tenaciously into the aged mortar. The morning sun peeks through the grid work of the wooden window into a small child’s upstairs bedroom.
Daniel is asleep on his bed, his face covered by his Mickey Mouse down comforter.“It’s morning! Time to rise and shine.It’s seven in the morning and time for work.”Slowly Daniel’s hand searches for the alarm as the announcer continues, “If you’re heading down Interstate 30 this morning you better get an early….”, Daniel’s hand knocks the black clock radio off the pine table.The pine end table was artistically decorated just the night before in a multicolored rainbow of Crayola crayons.Daniel had to have his car shaped radio beside his toddler bed.Daniel’s favorite toys are racecars.For Christmas, his grandparents found a uniquely shaped NASCAR bed.To match his bed, his dad gave him the race car alarm clock.The clock, which rapidly accelerated prior to its abrupt pit stop, lies on the floor with one wheel spinning.Thin arms stretch toward the ceiling and life once again breaks into the morning like a chick hatching from its egg.
“Daniel breakfast is ready.Come down before it’s too cold.”The faint voice of a woman lofts up from downstairs.“I’m up mommy.Be down minute.” Daniel yells as he slides his tiny feet onto the wooden floor.Shuffling his feet down the twenty foot hallway, half asleep and with only partially opened eyes, Daniel feels his way along the textured wallpaper to the bathroom.Daniel’s mom was very methodical.Everything must have its place and every room must have its theme.When he was three, it was ducks.Now, at the much advanced age of four “and a half”, Daniel heard his mom say that the “décor has a beachfront motif” complete with sand shells and a lobster toothbrush holder.Twisting the porcelain handle, Daniel splashes cold water on his face.Glancing into the mirror, he carefully pats his hair down without much success.It seems the harder he tries, the more that bit of hair in the back wants to stand in defiance.Grabbing his house robe Daniel heads down stairs.
The narrow spiral staircase wound its way down to the lower level of the house.The metal rails were polished brass with intricate arrowhead shaped points placed evenly along the length.Daniel loved to play on the staircase.His plastic army men, some missing body parts from previously vicious battles, would hang onto these points like a battlement of a medieval castle wall.Daniel’s tiny fingers touched each point on the way to the bottom.“One hundred thirty-four, One hundred thirty-five, One hundred thirty-six!One hundred thirty-six!”Daniel squealed as his fingers perched on the last point at the bottom of the railing.“Mommy,” Daniel began, “Why are dare one hundred thirty-six pointy things on da stairs?”
Julia looked up from the stove and into the living room.Daniel’s bright green eyes were always a joy to her heart.“So that your WARs wouldn’t hurt any more of your men.”Julia smiled as her son entered the kitchen. The kitchen always smelled of baked goods especially Cinnamon.Sweet Cinnamon remained suspended in the air escaping out of the confines of the kitchen. The blue glazed ceramic tiles on the countertops were covered with flour.Small cutouts of gingerbread men dressed complete with the multicolored gumdrop buttons were scattered on the breakfast bar still warm from the oven.“Don’t even think about it young man!”Julia coaxed Daniel past the alluring gingerbread men and toward the breakfast table.“Those are for your school party.”
Julia kept herself busy straightening up the kitchen.The stainless steel double sink was filled with the aftermath of her morning baking.Daniel sat in front of their bay window at the breakfast table which his dad hand crafted.Jon always enjoyed woodworking.One side of the two car garage was converted into his personal work shop.Daniel thought his dad could make anything.Daniel’s little feet dangled off the ground as he sat kicking his feet back and forth arranging his eggs, bacon, and toast.“Morning Honey,” Jon kisses Julia’s cheek and sits down across from Daniel.“Daddy,” Daniel’s face never could hide his joy, “Why are dare One hundred thirty-six pointy things on da stairs?”
Jon unfolds his morning paper and says, “Well Danny boy, sounds like a good question, again.I bet your mom knows the right answer.Don’t you mom?”Jon looks toward Julia with a smirk on his face.“Don’t grab me in on this one.I already told him.”“Well, there you go son.”Jon picks the paper back up and thumbs through the black and white pages.“Now eat your breakfast and this time,” pausing to peek over the top of his paper, “no Kamikaze attacks on your egg yolks.I don’t have time to change today.”Jonathan C. Carabon, or Jon as he liked to be called, was dressed in his business suit.His still well maintained shape complemented the gray custom tailored suit.
The thirty-five years of his life have been good to him.Jon’s football years through college kept him in peak physical condition.Now that his activity mostly focuses around a desk job, his physique now lacked the smooth athletic cut he once admired.“Jewels,” Jon’s nickname for his bride of twelve years, “After I drop off the tin soldier at day care, how’s about we take the day off?”Finishing up with the last of the breakfast dishes, Julia retorts, “Jon, I have a lot of stuff to get done today.Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine!”Reaching into the broom closet, she pulls out a white metal stepladder.She unfolds the metal contraption and climbs up to reach some Tupperware dishes she stashed away for “baking emergencies.”
“Jewels,” Jon gets up from the table, “let me get that for…” His words froze in the air as the ladder gives way.Julia panics as she tries to regain her balance.Lunging for a stabilizing handhold, she frantically grasps the top shelf with her right hand and the cabinet door with the other.The sound of fingernails scrapping against the hard wood of the cabinets resembles that of a nails against a teacher’s chalkboard as Jewels tumbles backwards.Jon rushes forward in a desperate frenzy to stave off the imminent peril.Julia’s ankle winces as it wrestles against the newly twisted frame of the stepladder.
The distinctive sharp sound of a bone breaking is one not easily forgotten.Jon’s formal football days forever impressed this unique sound into the very marrow of his being.Julia’s body reels backwards.Her hands spread striking the wooden block knife holder sending its contents sailing into the air.With a crack of thunder, her head hits the edge of the marble island countertop followed quickly by the resounding impact of the cold yearning floor.A stream of blood now issues forth onto the white ceramic tile.
Two large carving knives with dark black handles acquire their target as they descend rapidly toward her helplessly prone body.Unconscious and incapable of moving, the knives plunge closer.The twisted ladder shoots sideways along the bottom edge of the cabinetry.The rocketing deformed metal ladder locks Jon’s right knee in place catching him in an extended stride.With a mournful yelp, Jon collides into the corner of the island cabinet.The knives make their final descent.
Jon’s eyes widen in prayerful desperation as the knives plummet toward his lovely bride.Daniel screams!A small utility drawer from the island slowly slides out.The two knives sink deep into the soft maple wood of the drawer a few inches above Julia’s head.A hand releases the handle of the drawer.“Very nicely done Anthony.Not exuberant and just subtle enough to still make them have faith.”Two figures unseen by the Carabons, watch tentatively over the young woman.
“And as for you,” Anthony poises himself and draws the crystalline sword from his side, “You are not welcomed in this home.”The sword beams light like fire caressing the edge of a fireplace log.“Sssss.You havesss no Rightsss” hisses the dark figure.Standing obstinately against Anthony is an ugly creature.No light is seen from within this being.His face is twisted.Pain can be seen in the coal dark eyes sunken into a human shaped skeletal skull.His skin lacks any luster.Void of normal pigmentation, his face is pale as death.In direct contrast to the illuminate sword wielded by Anthony, a dark blade emerges from underneath the black cloak.“So be it!” Anthony stands protectively over Julia’s motionless body.
Jon’s prayer is still coming from his mouth as the massive battle begins.The two blades collide with gladiator force.Two gladiators in heated conflict, return volleys of deafening blows.The dark figure’s next swing is not targeted against his immediate adversary but instead, the massive cruel sword is directed at Julia.Anthony tries to intercept the treacherous blow but fails.“Michael help!”
Anthony’s plea invokes an immediate response from his cohort. The Mighty Warrior radiates the entire room with an instantaneous flash of blinding translucent light.“The Lord of Host rebukes you!”Michael’s diamond handled sword easily deflects the enemy’s attack. In terror, the panic stricken figure shrieks in pain as he is thrown across the room.With venom dripping from his fangs, he fades from the room.Anthony kneels to check on the woman he protected. “Anthony, she’ll be fine.You did what you were meant to do.”Michael skillfully sheaths his sword and places a gentle hand on Anthony’s shoulder.
“Michael how is it that he was able to get past me?”Anthony’s wondering eyes meet with the tender eyes of Michael.“It is because you care so much.It is, as they would say, ‘our weaknesses.’I prefer to say it is our greatest strength.Our Father has placed his love for them in us.At times, when you have battled enough, you too can harness the love of the Father.You fought against your foe but they too have skills and abilities.He broke the rules and I was allowed to intervene.”
---All material is copyrighted
Guardians
The old house had been in the family for decades.Six generations of Carabons have birthed, lived, and died in this ancestral home.The stone house was well maintained.All the years of life only added to the unique character of the estate. The west side of the yard exploded with various colored roses.All the bushes, in full bloom, were neatly trimmed and meticulously pruned.Yellow climbing roses intertwined the trellis forming a sweet aroma-filled walkway to the back gate. On each side were rows of red and yellow rose bushes embracing the walk way.Luscious green Ivy had long since covered the south wall in the back yard boring tenaciously into the aged mortar. The morning sun peeks through the grid work of the wooden window into a small child’s upstairs bedroom.
Daniel is asleep on his bed, his face covered by his Mickey Mouse down comforter.“It’s morning! Time to rise and shine.It’s seven in the morning and time for work.”Slowly Daniel’s hand searches for the alarm as the announcer continues, “If you’re heading down Interstate 30 this morning you better get an early….”, Daniel’s hand knocks the black clock radio off the pine table.The pine end table was artistically decorated just the night before in a multicolored rainbow of Crayola crayons.Daniel had to have his car shaped radio beside his toddler bed.Daniel’s favorite toys are racecars.For Christmas, his grandparents found a uniquely shaped NASCAR bed.To match his bed, his dad gave him the race car alarm clock.The clock, which rapidly accelerated prior to its abrupt pit stop, lies on the floor with one wheel spinning.Thin arms stretch toward the ceiling and life once again breaks into the morning like a chick hatching from its egg.
“Daniel breakfast is ready.Come down before it’s too cold.”The faint voice of a woman lofts up from downstairs.“I’m up mommy.Be down minute.” Daniel yells as he slides his tiny feet onto the wooden floor.Shuffling his feet down the twenty foot hallway, half asleep and with only partially opened eyes, Daniel feels his way along the textured wallpaper to the bathroom.Daniel’s mom was very methodical.Everything must have its place and every room must have its theme.When he was three, it was ducks.Now, at the much advanced age of four “and a half”, Daniel heard his mom say that the “décor has a beachfront motif” complete with sand shells and a lobster toothbrush holder.Twisting the porcelain handle, Daniel splashes cold water on his face.Glancing into the mirror, he carefully pats his hair down without much success.It seems the harder he tries, the more that bit of hair in the back wants to stand in defiance.Grabbing his house robe Daniel heads down stairs.
The narrow spiral staircase wound its way down to the lower level of the house.The metal rails were polished brass with intricate arrowhead shaped points placed evenly along the length.Daniel loved to play on the staircase.His plastic army men, some missing body parts from previously vicious battles, would hang onto these points like a battlement of a medieval castle wall.Daniel’s tiny fingers touched each point on the way to the bottom.“One hundred thirty-four, One hundred thirty-five, One hundred thirty-six!One hundred thirty-six!”Daniel squealed as his fingers perched on the last point at the bottom of the railing.“Mommy,” Daniel began, “Why are dare one hundred thirty-six pointy things on da stairs?”
Julia looked up from the stove and into the living room.Daniel’s bright green eyes were always a joy to her heart.“So that your WARs wouldn’t hurt any more of your men.”Julia smiled as her son entered the kitchen. The kitchen always smelled of baked goods especially Cinnamon.Sweet Cinnamon remained suspended in the air escaping out of the confines of the kitchen. The blue glazed ceramic tiles on the countertops were covered with flour.Small cutouts of gingerbread men dressed complete with the multicolored gumdrop buttons were scattered on the breakfast bar still warm from the oven.“Don’t even think about it young man!”Julia coaxed Daniel past the alluring gingerbread men and toward the breakfast table.“Those are for your school party.”
Julia kept herself busy straightening up the kitchen.The stainless steel double sink was filled with the aftermath of her morning baking.Daniel sat in front of their bay window at the breakfast table which his dad hand crafted.Jon always enjoyed woodworking.One side of the two car garage was converted into his personal work shop.Daniel thought his dad could make anything.Daniel’s little feet dangled off the ground as he sat kicking his feet back and forth arranging his eggs, bacon, and toast.“Morning Honey,” Jon kisses Julia’s cheek and sits down across from Daniel.“Daddy,” Daniel’s face never could hide his joy, “Why are dare One hundred thirty-six pointy things on da stairs?”
Jon unfolds his morning paper and says, “Well Danny boy, sounds like a good question, again.I bet your mom knows the right answer.Don’t you mom?”Jon looks toward Julia with a smirk on his face.“Don’t grab me in on this one.I already told him.”“Well, there you go son.”Jon picks the paper back up and thumbs through the black and white pages.“Now eat your breakfast and this time,” pausing to peek over the top of his paper, “no Kamikaze attacks on your egg yolks.I don’t have time to change today.”Jonathan C. Carabon, or Jon as he liked to be called, was dressed in his business suit.His still well maintained shape complemented the gray custom tailored suit.
The thirty-five years of his life have been good to him.Jon’s football years through college kept him in peak physical condition.Now that his activity mostly focuses around a desk job, his physique now lacked the smooth athletic cut he once admired.“Jewels,” Jon’s nickname for his bride of twelve years, “After I drop off the tin soldier at day care, how’s about we take the day off?”Finishing up with the last of the breakfast dishes, Julia retorts, “Jon, I have a lot of stuff to get done today.Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine!”Reaching into the broom closet, she pulls out a white metal stepladder.She unfolds the metal contraption and climbs up to reach some Tupperware dishes she stashed away for “baking emergencies.”
“Jewels,” Jon gets up from the table, “let me get that for…” His words froze in the air as the ladder gives way.Julia panics as she tries to regain her balance.Lunging for a stabilizing handhold, she frantically grasps the top shelf with her right hand and the cabinet door with the other.The sound of fingernails scrapping against the hard wood of the cabinets resembles that of a nails against a teacher’s chalkboard as Jewels tumbles backwards.Jon rushes forward in a desperate frenzy to stave off the imminent peril.Julia’s ankle winces as it wrestles against the newly twisted frame of the stepladder.
The distinctive sharp sound of a bone breaking is one not easily forgotten.Jon’s formal football days forever impressed this unique sound into the very marrow of his being.Julia’s body reels backwards.Her hands spread striking the wooden block knife holder sending its contents sailing into the air.With a crack of thunder, her head hits the edge of the marble island countertop followed quickly by the resounding impact of the cold yearning floor.A stream of blood now issues forth onto the white ceramic tile.
Two large carving knives with dark black handles acquire their target as they descend rapidly toward her helplessly prone body.Unconscious and incapable of moving, the knives plunge closer.The twisted ladder shoots sideways along the bottom edge of the cabinetry.The rocketing deformed metal ladder locks Jon’s right knee in place catching him in an extended stride.With a mournful yelp, Jon collides into the corner of the island cabinet.The knives make their final descent.
Jon’s eyes widen in prayerful desperation as the knives plummet toward his lovely bride.Daniel screams!A small utility drawer from the island slowly slides out.The two knives sink deep into the soft maple wood of the drawer a few inches above Julia’s head.A hand releases the handle of the drawer.“Very nicely done Anthony.Not exuberant and just subtle enough to still make them have faith.”Two figures unseen by the Carabons, watch tentatively over the young woman.
“And as for you,” Anthony poises himself and draws the crystalline sword from his side, “You are not welcomed in this home.”The sword beams light like fire caressing the edge of a fireplace log.“Sssss.You havesss no Rightsss” hisses the dark figure.Standing obstinately against Anthony is an ugly creature.No light is seen from within this being.His face is twisted.Pain can be seen in the coal dark eyes sunken into a human shaped skeletal skull.His skin lacks any luster.Void of normal pigmentation, his face is pale as death.In direct contrast to the illuminate sword wielded by Anthony, a dark blade emerges from underneath the black cloak.“So be it!” Anthony stands protectively over Julia’s motionless body.
Jon’s prayer is still coming from his mouth as the massive battle begins.The two blades collide with gladiator force.Two gladiators in heated conflict, return volleys of deafening blows.The dark figure’s next swing is not targeted against his immediate adversary but instead, the massive cruel sword is directed at Julia.Anthony tries to intercept the treacherous blow but fails.“Michael help!”
Anthony’s plea invokes an immediate response from his cohort. The Mighty Warrior radiates the entire room with an instantaneous flash of blinding translucent light.“The Lord of Host rebukes you!”Michael’s diamond handled sword easily deflects the enemy’s attack. In terror, the panic stricken figure shrieks in pain as he is thrown across the room.With venom dripping from his fangs, he fades from the room.Anthony kneels to check on the woman he protected. “Anthony, she’ll be fine.You did what you were meant to do.”Michael skillfully sheaths his sword and places a gentle hand on Anthony’s shoulder.
“Michael how is it that he was able to get past me?”Anthony’s wondering eyes meet with the tender eyes of Michael.“It is because you care so much.It is, as they would say, ‘our weaknesses.’I prefer to say it is our greatest strength.Our Father has placed his love for them in us.At times, when you have battled enough, you too can harness the love of the Father.You fought against your foe but they too have skills and abilities.He broke the rules and I was allowed to intervene.”
---All material is copyrighted
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Angels of the Apocolypse
Angels tend to be the focus of the entertainment industry with new TV Series from "The Messengers", "Dominion", and others that seem to peek the interest of a wide spectrum of cultural and spiritual beliefs.
So what do you think. There are many stories that abound of mysterious people coming suddenly on the scene and nobody knows them and they leave without a trace. These stories are reflective regardless of religious beliefs. Some people just play it off as coincidence. Some people attribute this to adrenaline but fail to see that it could be something more extraordinary.
Does the Creator actively send forth his Angels to help those in need?
What about the many prophecies of the End times? What role will the Angels play and will we even notice?
So what do you think. There are many stories that abound of mysterious people coming suddenly on the scene and nobody knows them and they leave without a trace. These stories are reflective regardless of religious beliefs. Some people just play it off as coincidence. Some people attribute this to adrenaline but fail to see that it could be something more extraordinary.
Does the Creator actively send forth his Angels to help those in need?
What about the many prophecies of the End times? What role will the Angels play and will we even notice?
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