*This is the first story I've ever posted so I would love some feedback. I am not an experienced writer. I merely enjoy sharing my thoughts and stories with others. One learns more by failure than by success. When we are forged through the fire we come out stronger and more durable than if we had coasted through with only praise. Please help me improve on my lore, storylines, characters, and overall depth with your comments and suggestions. My lore is mostly fiction inspired by some facts. I will commonly quote scripture, this is the Word of God and I hope any comments relating to the use of scripture in my stories are kind and respectful. May the Lord let his countenance shine on you and give you peace.*

Prologue:

In and out, monotonous breathing. Needing the air and yet loathing it. Like drinking salt water, it’s a thirst unquenched. The earth still gives under my feet. I have walked these paths to long, wearing ruts into the ground though my feet do not erode. Sands give way to grass, grass to trees, trees to pavement, civilization to corruption. It all turns back to dust in the end. But doubt and fear have left me. Only remorse and redemption fill my head. Only shame pulses in my veins, only worthlessness in my soul. Vile venom embedded in my skin, it screams for release. Putrid memories of wretched deeds and contemptible callings haunt my dreams. I am the lowliest of creatures: traitor, deceiver, murderer, thief. My brothers and sisters call to me from the light, they know not the depths of my unease, the thickness of my regret. Like a weight on my back that burns as I breathe. I drag my feet in the dust of agony. I feast on the bread of affliction, and the water of tears is my wine. I grow thin and my bones become brittle with the weight of my remorse. Dry are my eyes for my laments are heard through the earth; my cries carried on the wind. My heart beats for the ones I have wronged; my sorrow for those I left dying resonates within my chest. My anguish has defeated me, many nights I lie awake and breathe, unworthy of the life the breeze gives me. For now my purpose is clear.

Woe to the companions of old that cross my path. They will surly feel my wrath for their transgressions. No mercy shall they see from me, no benevolence, no sympathy. No pity nor relief shall they receive from the edge of my swords. They shall achieve no quarter in the land where my feet gain purchase. Their favor in this world will end by the sweat of my pores and the blood from my chest. For grace and mercy is the Father’s way, and I have long since been in the shadows, far from his light. I am fallen, I am broken, redemption has departed from me, never to return. So now I roam this world seeking those who seek to destroy. I will catch those who ensnare souls in nets and tether them to the lake of fire. Woe to these vile spirits who will be tangled anew in their own webs, for I will suck them dry. There is no refuge for them now, no safe place for which to hide. I will find them, my corrupted brethren, they will know my grief, they will learn of my remorse. I am unworthy of my Father’s mercy; but I shall still serve the Lord.

Chapter 1:

Awakened by the sun on my face, yet another undeserved blessing, I opened my eyes to see my fire’s coals still smoldering from last night’s meal. Yes, I live away from society still. They fear me, for good reason I suppose, and yet it still hurts, rejection from the Father’s chosen ones. The forest sooths me, it hides me in the shadows where I can lie in wait, plan and strategize. It’s cold today, not that it bothers me, I actually enjoy it very much. The dew glistens off my boots, the light smiles at me, refracted through the water droplets. The earth is filled with his Glory. Oh, the divine mercy that has gotten me to this place, the favor I do not deserve…

I stood from leaning against a sturdy oak and stretch my legs. The sun is high enough in the sky for me to discern the time. I’ve overslept. At least I did not dream. I pull on my overcoat and I place my weapons in their correct places. Oh, how I enjoy my protection. Few things are as precious to me as my blades. I gather the rest of my things and prepare to head out into the town due north. I turn to the fire and say:

“Thank you Father for this warmth, my undeserving spirit melts in the presence of your grace.” The coals immediately go cold and the light fades from within the heart of the hearth. A breeze comes through and blows the charred remains away, the logs disintegrate and the earth heals of its black scar. No trace, as is my routine, my custom, my code… our code, it was our code.

I look to the north and close my eyes, thinking of the alley behind a supermarket; and I’m there. As is my gift, my astral form is non-corporeal, I can phase to where I want whenever I want and then return to my physical body. That is my charge as an aspect; I keep and control the Ether: what spirits are made of. Not souls, spirits. The other aspects keep their charges of course: fire, water, earth, and that sort of thing. I have not seen my brothers and sisters in a very long time. This is my choice mind you, I know where they all reside and can be next to them in seconds if I so chose; the ones in this realm anyway, the other fallen. I can never return to the High Place because of what I’ve done, because of who I am now.

This world is full of Nephilim, children of Fallen Ones and humans. In the olden days, before the Age of Repentance, the Nephilim ran free and caused great chaos in the lands of the earth. No more. They hide in the darkness, feeding off of the weak. They are the creatures of legend: Vampires, Werewolves, Fae, Dragons, Demons, Ghosts, Phantoms, and things of this nature. Granted not all of them are so monstrous now. The Nephilim whose parents repented to the Almighty are tame, at best. They know their place and even contribute to the world as a whole. But the children of the others, those loyal to the Evil Serpent, are the ones I hunt. These creatures that feed off the chosen ones of God; they are the reason I still live, they are the recipients of my wrath.

Usually I hunt at night, I sleep during the day. No one bothers me in the woods. But not on Sundays; Sundays are special. I walk out of the alley and across the street to a busy little Cafe. I take my normal seat in the corner and wait.

“Hey Demitri, the usual?” The waitress asks me.

“Of course Candace, thank you.” I reply. The usual surprised expression crosses the contours of her face. Humans find my voice to be… different. I suppose it is the long millennia of use.

I close my eyes and open my mind to the souls of those around me; tapping into the ether that it is composed up. Expanding the diameter of my search I find the individual I wait for four blocks up Main Street. He’s late. Candace startles me with a china plate and a glass on the marble tabletop. I quickly withdraw back into my mind and breathe deeply.

“Forgive me, I must have dozed off. Thank you Candace.”

“You’re welcome, we had it ready for you this morning.” She responded smiling. She walks off. Another $20 tip today. I lift the plate slightly off the table and mutter,

“Father bless this food and let it nourish my body and my mind.”

I always order the same thing, no wonder they began to predicted it. Turkey sandwich on wheat bread and a glass of water; I tend to stick with the healthier diets. My body is very old; I must take care of what has been deteriorating for ages.

Roughly ten minutes later my friend sits across from me at the table.

“Greetings friend, it is good to see you!”

“Hush Demitri, you sound like you look forward to these talks.” He responded.

“That is precisely the case Charles! If these breakfasts with you will convince you of the love of Christ and the peace and salvation that he offers then I cannot be more joyful with this opportunity!”

Charles sighed loudly but did not look as if he was disgusted. He stared down at the table and clasp his hands in his lap. Nervously weaving his fingers between each other he said,

“I read those verses you quoted last week.” He paused. “I actually read the entire chapters from those quotes.”

“What were your thoughts my friend?”

He fidgeted some more and hesitated before continuing.

“The prophesies are confusing, yet they do seem to be pointing, not to a masculine empowered military leader, but to a compassionate loving messiah.” Again his eyes would not meet mine.

“ ‘Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the LORD revealed?

For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.

He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned everyone to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.

He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.

And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.

Yet it pleased the LORD to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.

He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.

Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death: and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.’ ~Isaiah 53” I repeated all of this from memory, having many many years to read and memorize the Word of God.

“Charles, this is the messiah of the world, of your people Israel. He was detested and scorned by the people, as prophesied in scripture. He was betrayed by one of his own and nailed to the cross, as prophesied in scripture. He died with the weight of the world’s sins on his shoulders, and he rose again on the third day, thus defeating death and the devil; as prophesied in scripture. The Lord Jesus the Christ, the Messiah, loves you and wants to have a relationship with you. We are all sinners separated from the Father; there is none that are righteous, no not one. Repent and come before the Lord your God and receive his Holy Spirit, enter into his peace, grace, and mercy made possible only by the sacrifice of the son. Accept Jesus and live your life for the Lord of the entire Universe.”

*That's the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it, please tell me what you think. I'll be putting more up soon.*