A/N: Yes, I'm lazy. Also, if you think the writing here seems spacey, it's because it's on the wrong side of midnight and on the wrong side of a couple of caffeinated, sugar-heavy beverages.
Well, now it's 8 in the evening, and I'm still on the wrong side of midnight.
Chapter 2-4: We Are Judgment
Outskirts of Seattle, 11th October 2010, 08:47 PM
The rain was coming down like a flood, washing away every trace of life on the streets. The streets were empty, and every window in sight was tightly closed and the curtains pulled. The only sign that the dismal suburbs were even host to human life was a gathering of people in a narrow alley, leaning against the walls to avoid the pouring rain. Only one man was standing in the middle of the alley, allowing himself to get drenched, but he didn't seem to care, smiling beatifically at his comrades.
He had blue eyes and light brown hair that was faintly streaked with grey. Even though his face was weathered, and he spoke with the gravitas of an old sage, his expression wouldn't have looked out of place on a much younger man. He straightened up, looked towards the people leaning up against the peeling grey of the walls with a forgiving glance, and spoke. "Our day has come, my siblings under the Lord. This world has been tainted for so long, but at last the armies of Lucifer have fallen victim to their own imperfection." He closed his eyes and smiled widely, turning his face towards the grey sky.
"The traitors in our midst have been judged. Robert Erston, Priscilla Zachary, Jonathan Evans and Christopher Jones let their delusions control them, and they acted without our permission." The man stroked the silver cross on his necklace and kissed it, like a man might kiss his old, wizened mother. A youthful fervor lit up his eyes as he spoke. "They were misled. We are not. We will go forth in the name of our Lord, and we will show no mercy if anything comes in our way. We will bring salvation to the lost, and we will bring judgment to the unredeemable." He looked down at his comrades, seeking to gain eye contact with the soaked, dark figures under the overhangs of the buildings rising around them.
"As true as the Lord is merciful, and as true as that He has watched over every one of us from we came from the womb, I know the hearts and souls of all those of you who I have fought beside. But some of you are new, and seeking salvation. Our Church has granted you the power to forgive and the strength to see what others do not, and I dearly hope that our words have not gone unheard." A young man in a soaking wet woolen coat had closed his eyes and was muttering under his breath. The older man laid a bare hand upon his shoulder and spoke to him in a soft voice. "Do not worry. You are far from alone, and you do not need to believe. It will come, after you have done your duty. Adam Howard, I will watch over you, and you shall know that you are not alone."
The man smirked faintly and added; "I do hope you will not fail in the same way as your namesake. They are the Snake, every one of them, and no matter how they may act, they speak only lies." The young man exhaled, opening his eyes and staring into the splashing water at his feet, his hands clenching with what little determination he could muster.
"And you two." The older man walked through a puddle of water to two figures, one male and one female. The woman wore a hooded jacket with a black coat draped over her. She was clutching a steel-grey gun in her hand, and water was dripping all over her from her soaked dark-brown hair. The man was holding a shotgun and wearing a navy denim jacket and a grey fedora. His face was pale, and his eyes were darkened and swollen from lack of rest. "This is your time to fight. I understand that you have lost more than you have ever feared. You, more than everyone else, should understand what it means to fall victim to Satan's spawn. Ben, I know your name, and I know your story. You are a brave man for coming this far. And you, Angela Weber..."
The older man pushed up the woman's chin with his rain-soaked right hand, looking into her darkened eyes. "You show promise. You were strong enough to defeat one of those hellspawn, wise enough to accept my call and cunning enough to make your way to the meeting. I would hate to see someone as promising as you, or your lover, for that matter, perish at the hands of this filth." The man turned around to face the others and looked up to the sky again.
"We strike tonight, and we will win tonight. The powers that our Lord had given Priscilla Zachary granted her the will to alert us, even when she was mortally wounded. Hopefully, her time in the cleansing fires will be short. Our primary target is the demon known as Mary Alice Brandon. Her strength is greater than you might think, so be wary. She seems to have met with two others, a woman in black cultish garb and another girl, who Priscilla has told us is convinced that she acts by herself. Make yourselves ready, and say the prayers that might be your last." The hunters began muttering amongst themselves, reciting their last wishes to their God. Only one word was not a prayer or a praise for the divine.
"Bella..."