Chapter 3



Time to read



Monday & Friday

They spent their flight mostly in silence, shock taking more and more of a hold of Marcus. Jensen tried to reassure him several times that they might have not been taken or that Marcus could simply be wrong. It was more believable that Heaven existed than the Angels were some kind of monsters harvesting people for God knows what. But Marcus knew Jensen was wrong, he knew from the start that there was something off about those creatures, ever since he came eye to an eye with one fifteen years ago.

A car waited for them on a private landing strip in possession of Mr. White. The driver didn’t utter a word the whole drive toward Mr. White’s mansion where Marcus’s whole team waited for them. They have brought almost everything from the ruins that they could carry with them. Marcus knew Mr. White was a powerful individual, but this seemed a little bit extreme even for him.

“Marcus, I am so sorry,” Mr. White opened a car door and welcomed Marcus. “How are you feeling.”

Mr. White was a tall and imposing figure for his age. He was lean with sharp features and a pointy jaw. He had a full head of slicked-back hair that was a striking silver color. His piercing blue eyes seemed to take in everything around him with a sharp and discerning gaze. He dressed impeccably, in tailored suits that showed off his trim physique, and his expensive accessories suggested a man of considerable wealth and refinement. He grabbed Marcus by his hand and helped him out of the car.

“I’m…not sure how I feel,” Marcus said, his voice wavering. “The Angels have taken my family, and I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Mr. White nodded and escorted him and his brother to the mansion, his crew following closely behind.

“We have found sever more sentences, some full, some partial, and managed to translate almost most of them,” Ava said.

“What do they say?” Marcus asked and Ava pointed toward the board that had multiple sentences and words scribbled on it.

“They are not who they presented themselves to be.” One of the sentences said.

“Their motives are beyond human comprehension.”

“They feed on the souls of the believers.”

“They consume everything.”

Several of the sentences only had a few words in them with question marks decorating the remaining space. Marcus caught a single word written below. “Samle.”

“What is that word down there?” Marcus pointed towards it. “Samle, what does that mean?”

“It was written at the bottom of the stone we carried, almost as a signature of sorts,” Ava answered. “But we are not sure of its translation as the stone is damaged down there.”

“Show me,” Marcus said and Ava brought him to a part of the stone that lay on a table.

Marcus inspected the stone and checked his notes. He ran towards the board and spelled letter by letter of the signature and sentence above it that was badly damaged.

“I am not who they make me out to be, free me and I shall help you.” The sentence Marcus wrote read. “Samael!” Marcus continued and dropped the marker.

“Samael,” Mr. White said. “Could it really be? Are you sure Marcus?” He asked running his head through his hair.

“One hundred percent,” Marcus said and silence engulfed the room.

“This is all too much,” Ava said. “None of this makes any sense.”

“We need to inform the World,” Marcus said. “We need to let everyone know that the Angels and everything they preach is a lie,”

“I can not let you do that,” Mr. White said.

“What do you mean?” Marcus turned his expression full of shock.

Mr. White looked at Marcus with a heavy heart. “I heard about the possible truth about Angels long before they came down to Earth,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“What?” Marcus yelled.

“My Granny used to tell me stories about them when I visited her as a child. She said one of the Priests, who was later pronounced insane, saw an angel devouring one of his friends who devoted his life to God.”

Marcus was taken aback by this revelation. “And you never thought to share this information with us?” he asked, his voice rising with frustration and he rushed towards Mr. White.

Several of his bulky bodyguards rushed towards Marcus and detained him.

“My wife and children are gone!” Marcus yelled at top of his lungs. “And you knew, you knew all along.”

“I did not know Marcus, believe me,” Mr. White said, shaking his head. “I thought they were just stories, legends of a small town obsessed with faith. But when they visited us fifteen years ago, those stories surfaced in me again, everything my Granny ever told me. But I still could not go around and talk about it without any evidence, people would think me mad, that’s why I employed you guys and other teams around the globe.”

“What else did your Granny say?” Ava asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“She said that the Angels were not what they seemed, that they were hiding something from us. And that the Priest disappeared not long after he started telling those stories.”

Mr. White and Ava exchanged a look of understanding. “And now we know,” Mr. White said, his voice full of determination. “We know that the Angels are not here to help us. They’re here for their own purposes.”

“You son of a bitch,” Marcus could not contain him. “You could have told me!”

“Would you have believed me?” Mr. White said and Marcus held his head down.

Mr. White nodded, his expression grave. “We need to be careful,” he said. “We don’t know what kind of power these Angels possess, we don’t know what they would do if we told the world what we know so far. We need to tread carefully if we want to uncover the full truth.”

“Suppose you are right,” Ava said. “What’s next?”

“I have my grandma’s journal where she has written all the stories that priest said.” We comb through them and find clues. And…” Mr. White was cut short by Marcus who managed to calm himself down.

“We find Samael,” Marcus said, everyone in the room turning towards him. “Or whoever that is, if there is a gram of hope that my family is alive, my gut is telling me to look for whoever that is.”

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