The Angelites, By Richard Moran
Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy
Pages: 195
Self Published
NYPD Detective, Gina Vasquez, who's life went completely off track after
making one near-fatal mistake. After serving prison time, she relocates to New
Mexico to start her life over as a county sheriff. After arresting vandals who
stole from an artifacts shop, Gina is suddenly thrown into a battle of good vs
evil – angels vs demons, where the fate of humanity and all ways of life hangs
in the balance. Now Gina must decide whether to stay exiled or lead a new band
of warrior angels known as The Angelites.
Excerpt
Gina was
standing barefoot in the middle of what seemed to be nowhere, wearing black
silk pajamas. Fog covered the darkness like a huge wool blanket. Towering above
her were the tallest of buildings and 6-foot billboards. She fanned away the
fog in an attempt to see what was on the other side.
What she
saw was a total contrast to the usual New York City nightlife. The streets were
deserted. Electricity was sucked out from every structure like there was a
citywide blackout. Human activity was nonexistent. She was alone.
What the
hell is going on here, she
thought. Resting in her hand was a badge, shining bright in the dense darkness,
pure platinum gold with a custom-made design of wings behind a cross. Gazing at
it, Gina thought it should be on display in a museum.
Suddenly,
glowing pulses surrounded the shield and a warm sensation slipped into her
fingertips, expanding throughout her hand. She felt less of the ground under
her feet, as if her veins had been pumped with helium. Her body began to glow
as bright as the badge, and she felt a strong power pump in her heart. In fear
she threw the badge to the floor and the glow had diminished.
This
can’t be real, she
thought. I must be dreaming. But the feeling was so real that she truly
couldn’t tell. She looked around the urban wasteland, wondering if she even alive.
Gina picked
up the badge and put it in her pajama pocket. Her mind returned to where she
was and how was she getting home; if there was a home to get back to.
After passing a
few dismal blocks, she heard spine-rattling echoes shriek through her eardrums.
Horrid shapes were emerging from the fog bank, and they rapidly drew closer.
Her heart jumped into her throat when she noticed what they were.
Demonic-looking zombies exploded onto the street with an appetite to kill.
Their
blood-colored eyes widened on their disfigured faces. Volumes of yellow venom
bubbled on the sides of their mouths. Slabs of molten matter decorated their
physiques and they were clothed in ripped-up police uniforms.
Frantically,
Gina ran through the dark streets, not knowing which direction was safe. An
abandoned building was coming up. She thought it might be a good place to hide,
but it was also perfect for an ambush, as more zombies rushed out. She ran as
fast as she could, but not enough to lose them. Buildings were locked and
manhole covers were sealed tight. No place was safe.
Gina ran
around a corner and spotted a church down the middle of the block. Beams of
light were shining from the ceiling windows, and the front doors were wide
open. She ran toward the holy fortress, hoping to find someone there who could
enlighten her as to what was happening.
With the zombies quickly
approaching, she leaped up the stairs like a frog on a hotplate, and then
barricaded the front doors with pews. The loud pounding against the wood crept under
her skin.
Strands of her auburn hair were
stuck to the sides of her sweaty face. Uneasy and exhausted, Gina looked
around, astonished at the size of the church. It was like an ancient Greek
cathedral, with stained-glass windows and enormous statues that stood against
the walls.
She
collapsed on a bench and took a few deep breaths, trying to get a hold of
herself. Where did those things come from? Why were they after her? Was she in
purgatory?
“This must
be a dream,” she said. “Please, let this be a dream.”
Then she heard
panting nearby, as if someone else was in the church with her. “Who’s there?”
she shouted, but nobody answered. She realized then that someone had to have
let her in, the church had been practically begging her to come in with its welcoming
bright lights.
The panting
grew louder, and she looked out a window and saw a woman standing under a
spotlight, holding a large wooden staff. There wasn’t a drop of rain in the
sky, but her long brown hair and navy blue sleep shirt were soaked. She was
swinging the staff wildly around her, with full force.
“Hey!” yelled Gina. “Over here! Come
inside! Do you hear me?”
Gina pounded on
the glass to get her attention, but she couldn’t hear anything except
terrifying snarls, which must have been coming from the zombies. The woman
hopelessly looked up at the sky, and as she did Gina recognized the face under
the thin-rimmed glasses.
“Alex!” Gina yelled, banging on the
glass. “Get the hell out of there! It’s me, Gina! Do you hear me?”
Desperately, Gina looked around the
church for something to break the window. On the altar she found large
candleholders, and she lifted one onto her shoulder like a javelin and swung it
into the glass. But the window was undamaged. Repeatedly, she swung the rod
with the same result. From the other windows came more cries for help from
behind the colored glass. Some were scared to death and running for their
lives, some were hiding in cocoons of despair. Was she looking into the future?
“I can’t save them!” Gina said
helplessly.
The pounding against the doors grew
louder and heavier. Pieces of wood were starting to shatter, bloodcurdling
screams from the hungry zombies sneaking through the cracks. Gina felt fear
swell through her body like heat. Her mind was breaking down; she was running
out of ideas.
Splinters and woodchips rained
inside of the church, and as the doors shredded away into nothing, the howls
became clearer. Zombies ransacked one another to get inside. Gina’s heart
pounded faster, drowning in a flood of emotions. Stress raced in her veins like
a bad drug.
She found
herself staring at dozens of glowing red eyes. Their hideous faces were coming
closer. She was reaching the breaking point. From inside her pocket, the badge
started to throb. Not knowing what else to do, feeling like all hope was lost,
she released everything in her with the loudest scream she could muster. The
volume of her voice multiplied through the church, sounding like the cry of a
wailing banshee.
As the
sound waves rumbled through the deserted metropolis like an earthquake, the
zombies began to shatter. Bones exploded and crumbled into piles of dust.
Buildings came crashing down like a demolition project. Clouds of debris
blanketed the city. Updrafts had shot out from beneath Gina’s feet with enough
strength to make the church walls shake. Stained glass showered down like candy
from a piñata. Dead remains were violently blown through the air, winds gushing
through the roof like a geyser and out into the twilight. Gina looked up and
saw the moon shimmering like a giant searchlight. The regurgitated screams
faded away as the last of the clerestory fell down around her.
Gray ashes
flew through like leaves in the fall. She couldn’t believe what she had done.
This church, once so beautiful, was now in ruins. Tears flowed down from her
brown eyes, and as she was relieved that the chaos had ceased, she whispered,
“Thank you.”
The victory
was short-lived, however, as vociferous thunder roared from the heavens. The
black sky morphed into a firmament of flaming red with lightning striking
across. Hideous flying creatures, with wings of a vulture and red fur covering
their scaly skin, swarmed over the wrecked church. They could smell the terror
pouring from her flesh. Black nails stuck out of their tree-twig fingers.
Gina was
ready to make a run for it when sandy hands arose from the dusty remains and
clutched onto her ankles. The harder she tried to break free, the more hands
latched onto her. She looked up and saw the razor-tipped nails coming moments
away from shredding into her face. Before she tasted their pain, she woke to a
fight with her blankets, screaming in absolute terror.
Her nerves
took some time to settle before she realized she was in the confines of her
bedroom. The alarm clock on the night table read 1:11 a.m. It was pin-drop
quiet outside in the suburban streets of Eagle Nest, New Mexico, where she’d
been living for the past four years.
She sat on the edge of the bed and
flicked on the nightlight, wiping sweat from her hairline as clips of the
terrible dream played in her head like a horror movie. She pulled out her
wallet and examined her Silver Star badge. Eagle Nest Town Sheriff was
engraved in the middle. It looked nothing like the one she had in her dream.
What just
happened? she thought.
What made her have such a horrible dream all of a sudden? She took a few hours
and a bottle of vodka trying to figure it out.
It was now 7:25 a.m. and peeking
sunrays pulled open Gina’s reluctant eyelids. She had thirty-five minutes to
get to work. Luckily, the station wasn’t too long of a drive. Deputy
Silverblaze had left three messages on her cell phone, which was set to silent.
Rolling out of her
bed and knocking over the empty bottle, Gina wasn’t sure who she was anymore.
Looking in the mirror, she saw what she’d seen every day for years since being
released from jail: guilt. Every day she wished that night had never happened.
Leaving New York made it easier to deal with the past, but it hadn’t made her
forget.
Purchase Links
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Paranormal> Richard Moran
About the Author
I was the born in the Bronx, N.Y; the youngest of two
children. I have a loving and supportive wife who has given me two precious boys.
I’m a firm believer of God and prayer and devote my life to him. My biggest
joys, besides watching movies and TV dramas, are drawing, making music and
writing. I have a wild imagination and it’s helped me come up with some
creative works over the years. I started writing about ten years ago and The
Angelites was the first story I started. But, so many things had gone in my
life that I had to put it back on the shelf several times. Now I finally had
momentum on my side and completed the first of two introductory stories to this
series. I hope you enjoy it, because if you don’t, then I have plenty of other
stories coming your way that I know you’ll fall in love with at least one of
them. I’ll just be happy with that.
Social Media Links:
Twitter: @RMoranTheAuthor
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