12 January 2008

Image From Modred

I held my breath as I took up the slack in the old German AT rifle. BOOM! Quickly I half rolled to the telescope I had set up near the gun. It always struck me as odd how long it took for the bullet to fly at ranges like this. I could see my target more clearly now, magnified through the scope. The image was one of heartbreaking beauty. When you saw them, you wanted to obey their whim, to give your self to Him.

The beauty was spoiled by the impact of the heavy 13mm slug in its forehead. Another thing that I had not gotten used to was how it took a hardened steel core bullet as big as your thumb to do as much damage to one of those things as a .22 would do to a person.

Some people called them angels. They were the essence of beauty, almost seven feet tall, gigantic swan-like wings sprouting from the alabaster skin of their backs. Most descriptions lay it on pretty thick, it's almost impossible to overstate how gorgeous they are. Two things make them dangerous; one, they are tough; two they exude an aura that makes you wish to be on their side, to follow their orders in the hopes that you will be allowed to remain in their presence. They aren't angels, they came through the same rift the Nazis made in Nuremburg as the other demons.

I dialed back the magnification on the telescope slighty to get a better view of the area surround the body. Uh, oh! I see another "angel" bending over the fallen form. I can see it is attempting to cast some sort of healing spell, but there's no effect, I had succeeded. But now I have to get out of here without getting caught, and there was another angel less than a mile from me, and alerted by the death of its comrade, would have bullet deflecting spells in place when it started to hunt, and it would not hunt alone like I do...

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