The Angels Saga

The Angels Saga

“Tales”

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com

Stories:

Beyond the Cross

Saruviel the Dreaded Antichrist

Beyond the Cross

Chapter One

‘Repentance, Hales. You are kidding, right? Who gives a fuck about repentance.’

‘I thought you did, in the end, you know. At the end of all your sins. I thought you agreed with that.’

Alf Lambert looked at his fiancé, smiled at her, and replied “There is only so much repentance a man can fucking take.” Fletch 5:7 if I am not mistaken.’

‘Point taken,’ she replied.

Later on, at the dinner table, Alf Lambert, symbologist supreme, member of the Quaternal Catholic Church of Eternal Glory gazed at his fiancé. ‘Why? Why would I repent? Seriously? “To sin is life and life is to sin.” Fletch 4:12. I mean, get serious.’

She said nothing, but continued eating her chicken soup, dipping the yummy crusty bread into it, eating it, and smiling at him.

‘You’re a good guy, Alf. You will figure it out.’

He gazed at her, nodded after a while, and started on his roast chicken.

‘I mean, if I repent, I won’t be able to enjoy the hedonism we are so very used to. I mean, we are supposed to be honest about the pleasures of the flesh. After all “Don’t be fucking gay – fuck prostitutes if that is what you want to do.” Fletch 12:9.’

‘I know the teachings of the Redeemer as well as anyone,’ responded Haylie. ‘But, you know.’

He said nothing, returned to his chicken, sipped on his diet coke, and looked at her squarely. ‘You know what.’

She looked up at him, sipped on her OJ, and said ‘Well, maybe. Maybe life has more to offer us. More than the same old shitty sinners life we are caught up in. Maybe we can do – I don’t know – better.’

‘Better?’ he asked her, tilting his head.

‘Better,’ she affirmed.

He stared at her momentarily, tore off another chicken wing, and while he was eating it, savouring the crispy bits, he finally responded. ‘What is better than fucking a virgin nun up the arse?’

‘Reading your son’s Grade A report card,’ she replied.

He said nothing.

‘Well, what is better than getting high on Hype?’

‘The love of a faithful wife who will be there for you and not cheat on you.’

He said nothing, but acknowledged the point in his head.

‘Well, ok. What is better than oral sex on a juvenile – totally forbidden otherwise.’

‘Feeling like a responsible and lawful citizen,’ she put it. ‘Having a good conscience.’

He said nothing. He acknowledged the point again, in his head.

Later, when the meal was over, he was sitting next to her, watching the Simpsons. ‘How do you repent?’

‘The Bible. The official one. We read that. We learn the real religion. Not the Fletchers ways.’

‘Can we do both?’ he asked her honestly.

She looked into his eyes, then, saw the future ahead of her, and the years of repentance before they would get anywhere towards the reputation she envisaged, and sighed. ‘Yes,’ she bemoaned reluctantly. ‘We can do both.’

‘Then sure thing,’ he responded. ‘Now, are you in the mood for some porn? I have this fantastic gay dvd I just bought last week. It is totally obscene.’

‘Wonderful,’ she replied.

And while she did in fact get turned on, and they were passionate in their lovemaking, the new leaf Haylie had recently turned over didn’t relapse. She was a changed woman, and while she knew she should probably think better, she would stick with this Alf Lambert anyway and, no matter how long it took, she would get her repentance out of her man. She would get her reputation she wanted from the world. And she would get were she wanted to go in life. It was only a matter of time. And Alf Lambert would find that out in the fullness of time, wether he liked it or not. Indeed, wether he liked it or not.

THE END

Saruviel the Dreaded Antichrist

‘Yes, Lord Jesus Christ. It is I. The dreaded beast, the lord of the fowl, the unholy one himself, the 7 headed, 10 horned, beast of the Devil. Beware my wrath.’

Jesus continued munching his pork sandwich, chewing away, staring at Saruviel.

‘Your wrath, hey,’ commented the Christ child.

‘Yes, my wrath,’ said Saruviel, all dressed in dark black.

Jesus finished off his pork sandwich and started on his apple juice. He munched away, looking at Saruviel who walked around the room, making dreadful poses of a classic ‘Antichrist’ while Krystabel, sitting at the couch next to Jesus, just smiled, as she knitted away.

Jesus was amused.

‘So, Sar. What is the Mark of the Beast?’

Saruviel stared at him. ‘You shall address me as ‘Your Most Dreadful Lord Antichrist.’

Jesus took another sip. ‘Sure. Your dreaded lord antichrist. What is the mark of the beast?’

Saruviel continued groaping around the room, picked up a skull from the book case, put it up in the air and said ‘Woe, woe to men. Woe to men,’ being as dreadful as he possibly could. He stared at his opponent. ‘The mark you say?’

Jesus took another sip of juice. ‘Yep, buddy. The mark.’

Saruviel, wrapping his large black and red cloak around him, sat down, on the couch, and smiled. ‘Mmm. The mark of the beast. Uh, I have an artline marker pen. Perhaps I could scribble three 6’s on everyones hand.’

Jesus took another sip of juice.

‘Could take a while, though, Sar. Couldn’t it?’

‘Yes. I guess so.’

‘Still, what are you going to do, huh?’

And he groaned, and Jesus took another sip of juice, watching the entertainment, and Krystabel finished her row and exclaimed as such.

THE END