Dante gracefully swung a turn as he approached the wall, a hand up guardedly to shield his eyes, though he seemed to have gotten out of the way of the bat flight. But then his forearm raised, hair pricked, shoulders and chest tensed and drew up, lungs stiffened tight, though he immediately reacted to throw off the effect. Still his eyes were wide, lips drawn back, teeth pulled together; not overcome with fright, but charged with determination to gain control and dignity, and ability to do whatever was called of him in the face of something he had never before witnessed. Never had he witnessed such a blatant display of the supernatural!!! Look what shows up only once he had become a Christian.!!
Could it truly be a vampire??!! He willed his arms to settle to a less raised position; his body was somewhat-stiffly upright, drawn up to a grand total of 5 foot 9 inches, including low-heeled soft leather boots and longer-on-top wind-ruffed hair.
He knew that angels could take any form, or at least Satan could..or.. any form?? He didn’t have time to think about it now. His mind flew to try to mentally call up the Armor of God. righteousness..no..helm..helmet of Salvation! sh..shit.. uh.. Shield of Truth! NO! Shield of Righteousness! Garter of Truth! Sandals of…uh?..the preparation of the gospel. (?!) ..Shield of..no! Breastplate of Righteousness! Sword of the Spirit! Boy he knew he had that one. He had had a vision of it showing up, glowing with an inner light. But did he have a clue how to use it? Any of this? Noo. !!
His mind mentally danced over the articles of armor, in the shape of a cross over his body. Sandals, belt, breastplate, helmet, shield, sword. Got ‘em all. And #7? Pray.
He wasn’t very good at that, and he wasn’t managing to make it happen at that instant. He finally managed a thought. “Please help me. Jesus. !!”
His pale white face felt heated red, though he didn’t expect any of his tinge of color could be seen in the gray light, early darkness illuminated by city lights and a half moon that revealed the vibrant red of a robe and highlighted gold tracing of the regally-attired, imposing supernatural creature across the roof. Dante managed to close his lips over his teeth. His eyes became alertly wide, but not somewhat wildly as they had been. At the tight squeeze of his lungs, he gently moved the trembling fingers of his right hand, in an old way. His lungs eased an increment, and another, as his mind played over them; yet never breaking his gaze from the would-be intimidating, compelling figure –mimicking a familial resemblance?
Dante perceived himself naturally reaching out psychically and in that sense beginning to mirror some of what faced him –though he cautioned himself against immersing himself. He remembered his mother telling him that she would behave chameleon-like, sometimes, when around someone who might otherwise harm her. “Probably a survival instinct.” She had always managed to walk among villains without being attacked. Being a short woman made her not seem a threat, yet she carried herself with enough confidence and guile to apparently deter attempts to make her a victim.
But Dante was not willing to go so far, in the presence of evil, as to appear to be an ally.
Yet he couldn’t but marvel at hearing the creature speak. Calmly, graciously presented, Dante’s spirit found the tone more welcoming than he had anticipated; he didn’t even perceive true malevolence. He remained wary, but intended any speech in return to be as level-headed.
He doesn’t know that I’m human? A look of doubt played on Dante’s face. He was quite certain that supernatural creatures could see him in the spirit. He would know he was a Christian, a real one, with True faith, but not yet powerful. Maybe not even having the Holy Spirit yet. Dante thought he wasn’t supposed to have it yet, not yet having been baptized, but he had felt ..an entering, below his ribs..
Most creatures of Satan’s Kingdom should fear him..unless they perceived Dante didn’t know what he was doing, maybe.
Speaking of fear, Dante reminded, and resolved himself. I will fear only God.
Whatever manner of being you are. Perhaps Dante had misinterpreted?
Maybe he meant, despite me being human. I wasn’t acting typically human, and my skin color certainly isn’t typical.
Dante paused, reluctant to speak of what brought him to the city, not wanting to mention his family. He felt pressed to say something.
The summoning of Holy energy was like a prickling on his skin, the small hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck stood on end, and with it came a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Annoyance, because even now his relationship with the Lord was filled with the anger of his history, though some of that was lessening now that he had found some measure of redemption. Amusement, because as a Chosen One of God, even as a vampire, to say that Holy Weapons would be ineffective would be something of an understatement.
“And whom, if I may ask, did the inviting? ...Volkova? Meslamstea? Zobek?”
The first two, Satan’s late acolytes and half-mortal offspring, formerly the CEO’s of Bioquimek Corp. and an international weapons corporation respectively; the third an enemy of Dracul’s dating back to his human life. All three were now dead. An affirmative to any of those names would spell a death sentence for this interloper, Holy aura or not. The Prince of Darkness did not suffer his enemies to live.
“... Or perhaps you are here at the behest of the Brotherhood of Light.”
“I would advise you not to make more enemies than you can handle,” he added, crossing his arms and regarding the other’s summoned armaments with a raised eyebrow.
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