Gabriel's fear intensified as he came to the chilling realization of who stood before him. Meanwhile Emory had been overcome with terror, teetered on the brink of unconsciousness. The being adorned in an aura of darkness that seemed to swallow the very light around it addressed them in a voice dripping with sinister malevolence
"Heilel. I have not been addressed by that name in a long time, I now mostly go by Devil, Prince of Darkness and my personal favorite, The king of Hell; Satan" . It was an incongruous sight, seeing such sinister and vile aura emanate from a such a frail old lady
"Where is Michael? I know he is here, so where is he?" Heilel said as he scanned the room, expecting Michael to appear out of nowhere but Michael was not in sight. Emory's mind teetered on the edge of collapse, his breaths shallow and labored as he was unable to breathe in the presence of an unfathomable evil that stood before him.
"Since the almighty chief of angels has turned out to be a no show, I am going to kill both of you as a parting gift to him" As Heilel's ominous declaration hung in the air, Emory and Gabriel remained helpless in the face of the situation.The oppressive aura in the room intensified, weighing down on them both until even Gabriel struggled to maintain his composure.
But just as despair threatened to engulf them entirely, there was a sudden shift in the atmosphere. A comforting warmth began to fill the bookstore, pushing back against the sinister presence that had been suffocating them moments before.
A deep, resonant voice broke through the tension, challenging Heilel's authority. "What do you think you're doing?" it demanded, its power palpable in every word. It was Michael!
He walked towards Heilel pushing back and restricting Heilel's aura to only the area where Heilel stood
As Michael's own protective aura enveloped them, the warmth returned, soothing their frayed nerves and restoring sense of hope in the face of overwhelming evil. Emory started to take huge breaths as his mind started to regain clarity and Gabriel too no longer had trouble keeping himself together, Michael's aura had nulled the effects of Heilel's and where there was once the feeling of fear, dread, despair and malevolence, there was now the feeling of warmth, calmness, and huge sense of relief
In the dimly lit bookstore, Heilel's sardonic smile cut through the shadows as he addressed Michael, his tone laced with amusement. "Ah, Michael, you're still as charismatic as ever, unlike our dear little brother Gabriel, who seems to still be as weak as ever," he remarked, his voice dripping with disdain.
Michael, unmoved by Heilel's jibe, kept his focus steady and replied evenly, "Why are you here, Heilel? And how did you find me?"
With a smirk dancing on his lips, Heilel quipped back, "Oh, just a humble customer in search of a good read. Can't a fallen angel buy a book anymore? As for your other question, isn't it obvious" His eyes gleamed mischievously as he gestured towards Emory, "Speaking of forbidden practices, didn't our father frown upon sorcerers and their ilk? It's curious, isn't it, that you'd keep such a weak-minded sorcerer around. Or perhaps," he insinuated, "there's a deeper reason?"
Michael's gaze remained fixed on Heilel, his expression unreadable, while Emory, upon hearing Heilel's words, felt a pang of guilt wash over him.
Michael's voice held a note of incredulity as he confronted Heilel. "How did you manage to manifest in the material plane? You're supposed to be confined to the prison constructed for you: Hell."
Heilel's smile widened, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Ah, Michael," he replied smoothly, "I can spread my wings a bit wider now that my warden is absent can I not? I have my ways." He gestured towards himself, or rather the vessel he inhabited, the body of the elderly woman. "This vessel may be feeble, but it serves its purpose adequately."
Michael shook his head in disbelief. "You must believe that our father is dead, like some misguided fools," he asserted.
Heilel chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh, but I assure you, dear Michael, I know better," he countered. "After all, I am the only one who truly understands what the Creator is."
Michael's silence persisted as Heilel pressed on, his tone insistent. "Where is the record, Michael?" he prodded, his gaze unwavering.
Michael remained stoic, his resolve unyielding, as Heilel continued his inquiry. "I know the records must be tethered to something, as they cannot physically exist in the material realm," Heilel reasoned. "So, where are they?"
His eyes flickered towards Emory, who was standing nearby, safely behind Michael and he dismissed the possibility. "It can't be tethered to him," Heilel remarked, "he's too weak."
"It's time for you to leave, Heilel," Michael finally spoke, his voice firm. " And leave the vessel unharmed."
With a smirk playing on his lips, Heilel acquiesced, turning to leave. "I'll depart myself," he declared as he strode towards the door. Emory, Gabriel, and Michael followed suit, the latter leading the way with caution
As Heilel, still inhabiting the body of the old lady, attempted to traverse the street, a sudden halt seized her steps upon reaching the sidewalk. With a swift turn, Heilel's voice pierced the air, addressing no one in particular. "Our paths are sure to cross again, I hope you aren't still this weak then" he murmured cryptically.
Then, in a jarring turn of events, Heilel abruptly flung herself into the path of an oncoming truck. The vehicle, barreling forward at a relentless speed, collided with the woman's figure. In an instant, the old lady was engulfed by the force of the impact, her frail form crushed beneath the weight of the massive truck.
The scene unfolded in a harrowing display of chaos and destruction, leaving behind a grim aftermath of blood, gore, human remains and a blood stained spectacle. The once serene sidewalk now bore witness to the death of an innocent old lady, as screams and cries for help and erupted.
The trio, led by Michael, returned to the solemn confines of the bookstore, their footsteps echoing in the heavy silence that enveloped them. For a time, none dared to break the quietude that hung in the air like a heavy shroud.
Finally, it was Michael who broke the silence, his voice carrying a weight of urgency. "The appearance of Heilel changes things," he remarked solemnly, his gaze fixed on Emory. "Perhaps your dream is not merely a dream, but a vision of things to come."
A somber nod passed between them as Michael continued, his tone grave. "We must intensify your training," he declared, his words punctuated by a sense of urgency. "It is only a matter of time before Heilel discovers that the record is tethered within you."
Emory's expression tightened with resolve as he absorbed Michael's words, the gravity of their situation weighing heavily upon him. A few moments ago he really was face to face with the devil!