Read Saved and SAINTified Online
Authors: Tiana Laveen
The children screamed as they heard the loud popping noise of the gun. The man in black fell back, and as he did, like a phoenix rising, something large
, big as a kingdom, rose from the smoky base. Its massive white wings expanded, flapping—so grand and bright, they were blinding. Whatever it was, its back was to Xenia and her babies, looking down at the man in black as the fog thinned, now misted over his trembling body. Once the shaking had ceased, the image was clear. Xenia gasped and covered her mouth as her gun dropped into the murky fog remnants during the shock of her life. The Angel had long flowing black hair, its eyes completely white, barely distinguishable against the white backdrop of the cornea, and it stared at her, looking over its wide, armored right shoulder for the longest time. A red jewel lay embedded in the middle of its forehead and though Xenia felt terror, she also felt peace. She knew it wasn’t there for them—it was there
because
of them.
****
Saint was only three miles away, but he may as well have been in China as far as he was concerned.
Why is this happening again?!
He felt himself become anxious though deep inside; he could feel that someone, or s
omething
, was there to help. His prayers had been answered, he was already assured. He could feel his father, his friends, their minds were unreachable, but he felt their slowed, beating hearts.
As they lay there, a protective cloaking broke through the foggy spell. They remained comatose, but unbeknownst to the son of a wretched man, they were protected so that no further harm may come to them while they slumbered...
Just give me
a few more minutes, baby! Hold on, for just a few more minutes!
****
The man in black struggled, trying to get to his feet to no avail. The wound in his shoulder burned and ached. He knew she’d aimed for his head, but the room had spun out of control, throwing off her aim. As his eyes focused, he screamed out in horror. For looking down at him was the grand angel, its wings so large, they bended at the ends while they spanned the small office space. It said nothing, did nothing—it didn’t have to.
But the man in black knew what it was. This was no ordinary angel; it was Gabriel
, the wrong archangel to mess with. He was the messenger and when he appeared, something very important had to be shared.
So this
was who the Creator sent. This was who Saint’s mother had requested on her son’s behalf. She’d given up another privilege to ensure that her son got what he needed, when he needed it. She knew that without this assistance, her only child may not make it in time and then he’d be destroyed. He’d never survive if his family was murdered. He’d walk into a pit of fire, just to escape the pain of living one more day.
Nizsm
’s son was out for blood, and he didn’t care who died for he knew deep down that Saint had murdered his father. It hit him while he studied the deaf mute who looked at him with a self-serving smile. Just like Saint.
Not only that, his brother was gone, too, and he’d had no chance to mourn him.
Someone was going to pay.
****
Saint’s mother couldn’t let harm happen to his family. Min Jae had hidden in the shadows when her granddaughter was born, watching and helping usher little Isis into the world, kissing her daughter-in-law’s cheek and falling in love instantly. She needed this. She’d begged and pleaded, and now—here the archangel stood, in a mansion in California. He had important work to do, but he’d been called away to help. Yes, here he stood and he would not leave until the job was done...
****
“Jibra'il!”
the man in black uttered, using Saint Gabriel’s Arabic name. “Jibra'il revealed the Qur'an to the honorable Prophet Mohammed!” the man in black screamed as he now gripped his chest.
St. Gabriel stared down at the man, and
placed his large foot on his chest, putting pressure. The man in black screamed as the bottom of the foot felt like a hot rod branding him, eating into his flesh where it touched. Never once did the angel speak.
It was not his assignment to destroy the man
, only to help freeze time. Gabriel was the best at it. He could stop intervals where needed, and no one would be the wiser. He was the physical ‘pause’ button. Gabriel was the messenger, the Angel of good tidings, and he had a message alright—a great one for Xenia and her offspring, but one that the man in black didn’t want to hear.
He was the appointed mediator between
Heaven and Earth, and he spread peace to Xenia and her children and unparalleled fear to the man in black, just by his mere presence. Oh yes, St. Gabriel was angry. He felt this was beneath him, but he understood ego had no room here, and that the Creator loved the Angel Children, and put their needs in high regard.
Saint
still had to do the actual work. It was the law and how their world functioned. Rules were rules. If you broke one, someone just might break
you
...
Saint
burst through the side door of the house, leaving his car parked haphazardly in the garage. Jagger, Beset and his father were the first ones he saw in the parlor, face down in a cloud of gray vapor. Instinctively covering his nose, he raced toward them. The half open front door with a body outside of it drew his attention next.
He reached down and felt
his father’s and friends’ pulses and exhaled a sigh of relief. He knew the plan, however. They were merely left alive because Isis hadn’t been found, and for that, he was thankful. He could also tell, that his invitation had been granted. Someone was in his home, for the smoke directly around them was the kind of peace and tranquility, not detriment and malice. Yet they’d all be shot dead if Nizsm’s spawn had their way. Purple orchid haze escaped from between his lips as he registered the horror of it.
Then h
e slowly closed his eyes and concentrated...
The basement
.
T
he fog parted as he stomped toward his destination. His eyes burned orange, then red, and the irises changed to the shape of a snake’s as his nostrils flared.
You are in my
mothafuckin’ house, messing with my family! My Queen! My children! How dare you!
He stood in front of the basement, taking notice of the destroyed door.
Saint raced down the steps, almost tumbling forward as his body tried to keep up with the speed of his legs. The fog continued to move around his feet, spreading and fleeing away, as if it were made of white mice frightened for their lives. His rage grew as he saw his favorite CD player and most of his musical equipment pulled out the wall and toppled over, but he had no time to lament over it. He made a mad dash toward his office—for he knew, that’s where the party was at.
“Daddy!” he heard
his son call out, before he’d even rounded the corner. Dakarai had felt him before he even saw him. From the doorway, Saint watched a larger than life angel—
Gabriel!—
slowly disappear but before Gabriel had all but completely vanished, they locked gazes. Gabriel’s white on white eyes, didn’t hide his fury. Saint saw the golden trumpet semi-tucked underneath the thick feathers of Gabriel’s left wing, and smiled. Gabriel nodded, then disappeared into thin air, his job done. Time had been paused for the additional time Saint needed, and now it was over. Saint was home, and the fun would begin...
There
, on the ground, was a man wearing black from head to toe, looking stunned.
“Gyasi! How you doin’, man?”
Saint grinned as he stooped low in the now thin layer of smoke, looking at the bewildered man as if he were the remains from a fucked up night of public intoxication and debauchery. Saint cocked his head to the side, and continued to survey him, unable to wipe the obnoxious grin off of his face.
Gyasi looked up at him, seemingly too paralyzed with fear to move.
Saint glanced over at Xenia, blew her a kiss and winked, then looked back down.
“That’s right motha
fucka, I’m not dead. You knew that though, and that is what made you even angrier.”
Hassani laughed, covering his mouth with his hands
, apparently amused by Saint’s illustrious profanity which he typically guarded tightly around his children. But he wasn’t himself right now.
He looked over at
Xenia. “Baby, cover their ears.”
She nodded and brought the two boys heads into each of her hips, and covered their ear with her hands.
“I see your brother, Haji, met Jagger. Yeah, Jagger doesn’t take any shit. You didn’t expect him to pop ’em right in the damn head with that gun, now did jah? Blew his fuckin’ cap off!” Saint grabbed Gyasi by his collar, hoisting him up with his fist. Saint’s eyes burned, turning pitch black through and through.
Gyasi gasped.
Apparently he’d never seen such a sight before.
“You’re goin’ to pay today, ya feel me?”
Saint said under his breath, but still loud enough for Gyasi to hear.
He dr
agged Gyasi toward the door then hesitated. “You know what, Xenia, this is going to get pretty nasty, baby. Do me a favor, get the boys and go into the entertainment room. Don’t go upstairs though. There is something going on that might upset the children if they see it.”
He immediately thought about the dead brother’s body right outside the front door and the others, face down, appearing dead. H
is children had seen enough; no need to make matters worse.
“Close the double doors behind you and lock them once you get in there
… and turn a program on,
loud
.”
Xenia
ushered her sons past the two men, sparing the bastard Gyasi a look before she slammed the door closed behind her, leaving the crazed animal, better known as her husband, alone with his new found prey...
****
“It’s just you and me now, Gyasi.” Saint smirked.
“My father is dead, isn’t he?”
His voice shook.
“
You haven’t been paying attention,” Saint mocked. “You already know the answer to that. I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.”
Saint
picked him up and slammed him against the door, almost knocking him unconscious.
“Cool trick you pulled upstairs
, incapacitating everyone. You didn’t expect all these people to be here waiting on you and you didn’t expect for my sons to be ready to go to war. You got punked by some little ass boys! Ha! Ain’t life grand?” Saint laughed. “Surprise, surprise, mothafucka!” His eyes watered as he continued to laugh harder and harder, tempted to buckle over. Saint found the situation disastrously sidesplitting, yet his need for revenge fueled him forward past his own home-grown amusement.
“What are you planning to do with me?” Gyasi asked coolly
, his dark eyes slitting.
“Your worst nightmare has already come true.”
Gyasi gave him a look of bewilderment.
“You’ve lost your high post position; you’ve lost your father, and now you’re going to lose your life and to add to that, S
t. Gabriel has laid his eyes on you, had to leave his post to come babysit, so you’re a dead man in the hereafter as well...”
“I thought you were one of the good guys?” Gyasi cried, an angry cry tinged with fear. “You don’t really want to do this, do you?! I was just
... carrying out my father’s orders!”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.
I have no problem snuffing out people like you. That’s what I was made for and the challenge is accepted. I truly
do
want to do this and you weren’t just carrying out orders. You and your brother were more than happy to oblige, didn’t think twice about killing women, the elderly and children—
my
woman and children. I’ve been dreaming about this for a little while now and now that you’ve entered my home, invaded my space, terrorized my family and forced an Archangel, of all things, to have to come into my home to assist me, I’ve no choice but to grab my reward—and that’s listening to you draw your last breath. Oh, and by the way, the notion that angels are nice, cute and cuddly has proven to be a myth, right? We are their children after all. It is important to know one’s spiritual parents! Stay informed, bruh!”
Saint
hissed, brought his face close to his, almost touching noses then punched him so hard in the gut, Gyasi’s eyes crossed as his knees gave out. He slouched toward the floor as if his bones had melted on contact.
“I didn’t tell you to have a seat, man!”
Saint pulled him up against the wall again by his shirt.
“Just get it over with!”
the man pleaded.
Saint
grabbed him around the neck, forcing his fingertips deep into his throat, drawing crescent shaped cuts of blood from his nails.