Chapter two part threeMature

Julian nodded and almost knocked Father Joseph over because he ran and hugged him.

“Yes Father!” Julian exclaimed. “But why? It belong to your sister. Wouldn’t you want to keep it? In case she came back.”

A grave smile formed. “She’s been missing for over a year. They found her necklace-yes that one-in a pool of blood.” He shook his head and then started leaving. But Julian ran out after him.

“Father, can I ask you something?”

Joseph stopped, his brown eyes meeting Julian’s blue ones. “Yes. What is it?”

Julian tried blocked out the voices. “Why didn’t Michael just kill Lucifer? I mean, wouldn’t killing him mean he won’t rise from Hell and start the Apocalypse?”

The Father wasn’t baffled. The Brooklyn native asked questions like this all the time. Joseph took Julian’s hands in his. “Lucifer is locked in hell. All the angels are watching Hell to make sure he won’t escape. It’s late now go to bed.” For two hours, the teenager lay awake, actually letting the voices flow. Of course, they kept wondering why Michael left. Midway through spying (Julian called it helpful investigating) there was an enormous bang out front. He shot up in bed, and shoved the covers off, and tripped making his way to his door, craning his neck to get a better view without making a sound.

Who broke in? Surely they knew the Father of the church slept here. Plus there aren’t many valuable things people can pawn. All the money was kept in a box until it was donated. It’d be pretty hard pawning a six foot, two hundred pound stone statue of Michael, I’d imagine, he thought.

Somebody shuffled along, a strange cling, cling sound followed. What was that? Whoever it was, they might be searching for something. Julian made his way towards the front of the church, towards whomever entered.

In moonlight, a black figure stood motionless. It was clearly a guy, dressed in all black. He’s like a ghost. His skin was so pale and had an odd glow. Moving silently despite wearing heavy boots. Julian figured he could fight if he had too. Gangs had fun beating the hell out of female looking kids.

The stranger turned. The stranger had glowing honey eyes, bright eyes. He’s probably younger than me. Maybe fifteen or sixteen. Who is this and what’s with that weird glow surrounding him.

“Who are you? Why did ya breaking in?” Julian asked, his voice the calmest it’s been in a long time.

“Are you Julian Valentine?” the stranger asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “And you?”

“Call me Danny. Don’t even think about beating me up. It’s useless.” He turned and heading towards the gray wall, glanced back, and walked straights through the stone wall. Julian’s jaw hit the floor. What the hell? Another hallucination. What an insane day it’s been: Demons, wounds that weren’t supposed to be real, and some apparition of a teenager. Julian started back but a white feather caught his eye. It was a foot and a half long and pure white. Though at a tips it was black. Weird. That wasn’t there earlier. Then again this city isn’t normal.

The End

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