The Warriors of Light

The night seemed far too long as I sat in my desolate apartment, a cigarette in my hand, staring

at the gun on the couch beside me. How was I supposed to live a normal life when I now know that demons exist? That they could come after me at any moment? I acted bravely in front of Gregory. But if I had to be completely honest with myself, I was horrified, a tad bit excited, but scared shitless. Everything I teased Brad for, his beliefs, were now all real.

I couldn't get the images of the demons out of my head. Every time I closed my eyes they were there haunting me, lurking in the darkness ready to devour me. Death shouldn't have frightened me, though. I had been dead inside for quite some time. This was the only thing that gave me purpose. I put the cigarette in the ashtray, still in deep thought, as I just sat there in silence. Breathe in. Breathe out. Listen to the sound of my heartbeat. One thud. Then, a knock on the door took me out of my trance. I grabbed the gun from the couch, too paranoid to walk away without it. "Who is it?"

"It's Hazel. Open up! You missed our photo shoot this morning."

I sat my gun down on the counter as I let her in. She approached me instantly with a slap to my face that stung, but didn't even move me as she continued to yell and fuss. I heard her, but I knew what she really wanted. It was exactly what I needed. We tussled for a moment. Me, trying to stop her from fighting me, as she pressed against my body and the door, sandwiched in- between.

"You made me miss good money today, Ray!" She fussed.

"Haven't you heard, Haze? Brad was murdered a couple of days ago," I said causing her entire face to change colors and everything. She hadn't heard. Word didn't get around as fast it seemed.

"My God...what happened? When...why didn't you call me?"

She stopped fighting me and I moved away from her exhausted. I sat back on the couch. "It doesn't matter. He's gone." I replied somberly. My head hung low as I rested it in my hands, pulling my hair to the back of my head for it to just fall back in front. Hazel's soft touch moved my hair out of the way, lifting my head gently as her fingers lifted my chin.

"I'm sorry, Ray." She apologized, leaning me back against the couch. She mounted me, taking over my lips. I rested my arms around her waist. Her body felt welcoming grinding against me, taking away any fears I had. Hazel was the distraction I needed. She held my head close to her chest. Her fingers performing a slight massage to my cranium, which I always liked.

A low moan escaped me once she bent down a little more, kissing my neck. Her teeth nipped slightly on my skin as her warm lips took over all senses. I rested my hands on the dip of her back, rubbing up until I was on her neck. My left hand moved up her front, trailing her body until I reached her breasts. She moaned at the touch, pulling her clothes off at an alarming rate.

She wasted no time pleasing me. Her hands found my zipper pulling out my cock, as I pulled her underwear aside. She sat perfectly on me, moaning as she rode me fast and hard. Just the way I liked it.

I awoke to the sound of my phone alarm, groaning at how much sleep I had actually gotten. Waking up at 12 o'clock in the morning was going to take some getting used to while training with Gregory. I got up, though, and showered. I left a note for Hazel as she laid peacefully asleep. I placed the note down and stood up straight, slowly. The TV, still on, caught my attention. Police were looking for Johnny Stan. He escaped the holding cell just hours before. I thought, for sure, Gregory had something to do with that. I didn't wait to find out. I went to the church, getting there right at 1 a.m.

The church was rather empty when I walked in. It was spookier than I remembered. The gun was kept on my side, though. There was no way I was leaving the house without it. "Hey! Gregory?" I yelled out, but no one answered. I walked closer to the back to see if he was in his office, but it was empty as well. My mind instantly started to think he had lied to me and bailed out on training me to fight Agares himself.

I was just about to walk back to the sanctuary until I heard ruffling. My body froze, thinking it to be demons. I quickly pulled out my gun, aiming it right in front of me. I didn't speak again, careful not to let my enemies know where I was. Before I could even react, the gun was knocked out of my hand and a flash of black blurred my vision. I stumbled reaching for the gun; I felt a sharp pain in my stomach from a kick delivered by someone stronger and faster than me. I hit the ground hard, with a grunt, and my gun was pointed right in my face. I stared down the barrel.

"Your reflexes aren't terrible, but I see I will have a lot of work training you." Gregory said as he helped me up. He wasn't in his robe, but in black combat gear as he handed me my gun back. "Demons move a lot faster than regular people. So you will have to learn how to trust your instincts a lot in this field of work."

I rubbed my now sore stomach. He kicked me hard as shit. "Was all that just to teach me that? You could've just told me instead of kicking the shit out of me," I fussed. Gregory punched me again in the stomach, causing me to double over. I groaned, getting more and more upset as I swung to attack him, left hook to his face, but I missed horribly. He was now behind me, elbowing me in the back, knocking me to the ground.

"But kicking the shit out of you is way more fun." Gregory smiled squatting beside me as I groaned on the ground. "You know, you just being here is against the rules. I'm not supposed to train anyone who hasn't taken an oath to the cloth."

"Well, let's do it. Let me take the oath." I struggled to talk through clenched teeth, trying to fight through the pain.

Gregory shook his head. "Taking an oath to become a Warrior of Light is much more than what you are ready for. Each Order member has an important job that makes this organization work the way it does. Brad was already very loyal and knowledgeable of our teachings. You have much further to go. So this will be completely your choice. After your goal, I will let you decide if you want to join us permanently, or will we part ways afterward." "When you say part ways...does that mean kill me?"

Gregory sighed while he shook his head. "No. We usually don't hurt anyone except monsters. It's our policy to be peaceful, but it will be up to the council if they wish to erase your memory or

not."

I sat up, ignoring the pain. "You mean everything I worked hard for would amount to nothing? I won't remember any of it?"

Gregory shrugged, "Let's cross that bridge when we get there." He helped me up and gestured for me to follow him down the hall into the basement. There, he pressed a stone button in the wall allowing the wall to bend in half showcasing a training room. My eyes couldn't believe what

I was seeing. "We will start small. We need to build up your strength and speed." Gregory watched me box and punch the punching bag. "Did you find Johnny Stan?" I asked making casual conversation as I grunted, punching with powerful attacks.

"I didn't. He was gone by the time I arrived at the police station. Records showed me that he was there, but someone or something had broken him out. Whatever Johnny was into, he has some help."

"I checked the man's social media page. He has no true following, no friends, no one to talk to base on that profile. The guy doesn't have much of a life."

"You really base someone's life on a website?" Gregory looked amused at me. "Society has really changed since the last I remember it. You fall victim to this because you take those pictures. I assume that's why you had that camera."

"I make a living taking pictures of models. Not just any selfies, high-quality content." Gregory scoffed, "Because, what, a selfie is too personal for them. 'Ooh look at my food I just bought'. 'Look at my cat'." He mocked society as he laughed at himself while shaking his head. "It's all inconsequential. All of that means nothing in the grand scheme of things."

"I suppose fighting demons will change your perception of life, but you can't judge society when you aren't a part of it. Is that part of making the oath or is that just you?" I hit the bag with a one-two punch starting with the right jab. I was sweating profusely at this point, struggling to hold a conversation.

"I just never cared for such things is all." Gregory replied, folding his arms. "How old are you, anyway? You talk as if you are in your seventies. Being a part of this holier- than-thou covenant sounds pretty boring. Have you ever had a drink?" "We serve wine with bread..."

"Have you ever stepped foot outside this church when there wasn't a demon concerned?"

"I have no need to see outside this holy temple. I know what lies out there. Sin. I see it every day

in the eyes of our mass. It's scary how easily demons can blend in with us when we should know the evil. But instead, we are not too far from demons ourselves. I vowed to keep my oath holy. That means no earthly things will sway my loyalty to God."

I held my hands up in defense. "People say I am a stick in the mud. You, my friend, are far more

out of touch than I am. Do you hear how you talk about the people you are defending or are you just killing demons?" He didn't answer. "How old are you, really?"

"I'm forty-three."

"Wow. You don't move like it. I'm twenty-eight." I replied, stretching as I did so. "You been here all your life?"

"Priest Richardson took me in as an orphan. He taught me the ways of the cloth and how to fight demons. They are the only family I know, the only thing that makes sense to me." He stood as if he was growing uncomfortable telling me so much. "Switch to pushups. I will return shortly." I threw my hands up as if I had said something wrong. He just walked away, leaving me in the training room alone.