Hiya, I'm really sorry about the hugely long wait for me to update! Hope you like the next chapter and please review!

Chapter 4

Previously on the End of Days:

"Leon?"

"Mmm"

"Where's the knife of Orokiah."

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"I want to apologise," Azazeal stated, "Apologise for leaving you when you needed me the most, for not being there when you were in need of support and guidance. I'm sorry I haven't acted as a father should, but I want to begin now. Let us fight side by side in this battle. I want to see what you have become. And I want you to see how proud of you I am."

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Leon paused for a heartbeat. "The knife?"

Ella nodded, "Of Orokiah. Where did you put it?"

Leon searched back in his memory in an attempt to remember where he had last seen it. "Ummm…"

"Leon!" cried Ella in exasperation, her fears beginning to be realised.

"No, no wait!" Leon tried to clam her down, "You got stabbed with it, by that fairy chick…"

"Yes Leon." Ella ground her teeth together, not wanting to be reminded of that failure.

"…And then you must have pulled it out, cause it wasn't there when I got back to you…Oh yeah! I remember seeing it on the floor!"

"On the floor." Ella repeated, "And is it still on the floor?"

Leon was silent, the gravity of the situation growing on him. "I didn't pick it up," he admitted in a small voice, "I don't remember noticing it after that, things were a little hectic."

Ella sighed, "I know," she said, calming her tone of voice down, "It probably wasn't anyone's fault, or at least it was all of ours equally." She dropped her head in her hands; only feeling a slight twinge from her now almost completely healed shoulder. "It's just that the knife is the only thing that can kill him. We need that knife, Leon!"

"Well," Leon was at a loss for words. He mumbled something then gave up, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know," he said helplessly, "There must be something…Hey! Maybe Thelma picked it up!"

A third voice floated through the slightly ajar door shortly followed by it's owner. "You will never guess what I just saw! Well, not just saw, what I saw when I was in the morgue. Or, at least, what I thought I saw. And maybe I picked what up?"

Leon's hopeful comment had finally penetrated Thelma's quick jabber of speech.

"The knife of Orokiah." Ella elaborated.

Thelma thought briefly, "Nope. Haven't seen it." She paused briefly to brush a possible speck of dust of her new top, "Anyway, I saw this huge shadowy thing…" she continued but Leon spoke up cutting her off.

"It must still be in there."

"Unless Malachi's got it." Ella muttered grimly.

Leon gulped, "That would be bad."

"Hey!" protested Thelma, "I was talking!"

"We have to try and get it back," decided Ella firmly, ignoring Thelma and standing up as if to go that instant.

"Woah, wait up a minute." Leon protested, "We can't just go walking in there, I mean Malachi will have the whole place guarded, or what's left of it anyway. It'll probably be completely burned out, it could be unstable or something."

"That wasn't a normal fire, Leon!" Ella said running her hands through her hair in frustration, "Medenham will have been left untouched by it. We have to get it back. Now! Before Malachi realises that we don't have it. Thelma! Will you stop that!" Ella finished on a shout at the ghost who had slouched on an armrest and was moodily tapping her foot on the floor, the taps gradually getting louder.

"Have you finished shouting?" Thelma inquired, "Because I have something to say."

Leon laid a calming hand on Ella's shoulder, "What is it?" he asked, turning to Thelma.

Thelma swallowed in a dry throat, "I saw a Nephelim."

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Malachi was watching the shadows on the grass, watching how they seemed to part to allow his fathers passage. He glanced behind him at Medenham House, unable to prevent the unmistakable feelings of satisfaction and of pride at the almost tangible evil that surrounded the place.

That had been his doing.

"Keep up!" Azazeal called over his shoulder, his long strides increasing the distance between the two.

Malachi turned and walked quickly towards his father, catching up and falling into step beside him.

"Why do we have to come all the way out here to do this thing," he asked, voicing his annoyance.

"Because, my proud and impatient son, here is the perfect place for it." Azazeal replied calmly, "It's just a little further."

Malachi tightened his jacket around him as the biting wind picked up, "You have already prepared the place?" he asked.

Azazeal nodded, "Before your birth, many, many years ago. I always knew in my heart that I would be given a son to do this thing. So I prepared the place, it has been waiting for a long time."

Malachi let out a laugh, "Well it doesn't need to wait any longer. This the place?"

They were a little way into the surrounding woods at a small clearing. The edges were surrounded by upright blocks of stone, each with ornate figures carefully carved into them. The grooves were covered in a crumbling dark brown substance."

"Blood." Azazeal answered Malachi's unasked question.

In response, Malachi drew a knife from his jacket pocket and, walking to the centre of the clearing, raised it up above his head. The blade was covered in dried blood too but as Azazeal began to chant in an arcane language the blood began to drip down the knife, running in rivers down Malachi's hands.

A cold wind whipped up, swirling around the clearing as Azazeal's chanting grew louder, the trees bending in towards the centre, towards the knife's point.

As the chanting grew to a crescendo, Malachi thrust the blade as high above his head and crimson streams of light radiated out from it.

Huge winged shadows appeared, silhouetted by the light. They landed on the ground, the clearing now completely taken up by the misshapen figures.

Azazeal stopped chanting and gestured for Malachi to lower the knife. The red light disappeared, allowing the pale moon casting a silvery light over the clearing.

"Welcome." called Azazeal, reaching out his arms, "You are now free! Free from the abyss, where you were condemned to spend eternity. Now is your turn to take revenge upon those who imprisoned you." He cast his gaze around the creatures and now spoke in a carrying whisper, "I have a task for you."