Book Excerpt
Psalmulus thinks to himself, This is my chance. As he readies his footing and tightens his fist, the thug turns around. Then Psalmulus uppercuts him in the face as the thug staggers back hard but regains traction just before he falls.
“Crap, that was my hardest, and he didn’t even fall,” Psalmulus says under his breath.
Standing up straight, the thug licks the blood from his lips and smiles at Psalmulus and says, “That was a nice shot considering it was a sucker punch, but I guess a loser like you has to take what he can get, right?” Psalmulus stands there in a fighting pose waiting to see what’s next.
The thug walks up to him in the same spot as he was before and says, “Want to try that again?”
Psalmulus raises one eyebrow and thrusts his fist at him even harder, making a direct hit to his face, but Psalmulus jumps back and looks down at his hand as he realizes that last punch really hurt his fist. While gazing down at his hand, he notices that his knuckles are bleeding. When Psalmulus looks back up, he sees two glowing red eyes glaring at him. The thug’s face is now somewhat disfigured and pale as the thug smiles at him his razor-sharp fangs.
He speaks to Psalmulus in a deep monstrous tone that taunts him and says, “What’s the matter, boy? Not the outcome you expected?” “What the . . . ?” Psalmulus says looking at the face in shock and in fear as he just stands there.
At that moment, the thug punches Psalmulus directly in the middle of his chest so hard, the wind disperses from his hand. Psalmulus is sent reeling into the brick wall as if he was a rag doll. When he connects with it, he leaves a crater in the wall that expands and cracks a little as Psalmulus falls to the ground, nearly unconscious.
The thug walks over to Psalmulus and looks down at him as he rolls him over to his back with his foot, saying, “You humans are so pathetic. Your flesh makes you weak.”
The thug begins to kick Psalmulus in the side over and over as he cries out in pain, stomping on his chest in between kicks.
The young girl watches this in horror as she begins to cry. She yells out, “In the name of Jesus, leave him alone!”
She stomps on the foot of the thug that’s holding her hostage and runs toward the thug that is hurting Psalmulus. The girl grabs the Living Book from off the ground as she jumps on the thug’s back and starts beating him on the head with it. His head begins to sizzle and smoke with each blow, but as she continues striking at him, he gains the strength to grab her off his back. He throws her to the ground as she drops the book.
“You have just sped up your own death, girl,” the thug says viciously.
Psalmulus begins to set up as the pain is his chest and rib cage throbs with each movement. Finding the cracked wall with his hand, he manages to pull himself up onto the wall. “Leave . . . her alone,” he says in a raspy tone.
The thug looks over at Psalmulus as he grabs the young girl on the ground by the throat and holds her into the air as if she’s a trophy and says, “What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the cracking of your ribs.”
The thug looks at the girl with those glowing red eyes filled with so much hatred. “You children of God make me sick. There’s no place in this world for any of you,” he says.
With his head spinning as he holds himself up on the wall, Psalmulus’s body is nearly broken and his eyes blurred as they lock on the thug holding the girl up by the throat who risked her life to save his; when his eyes come into focus, it triggers a slight dream sequence for him.
There’s a young boy and his mother enjoying a day out; then suddenly, a dark cloud covers all light that shone from above.
Psalmulus lets go of the wall as he falls to his knees, holding his head.
“No . . . not this,” he says, muttering to himself.
The thug smiles his razor teeth at the young girl as she sheds a few more tears as he looks to be choking the life out of her. “I’m going to enjoy taking your life. This world belongs to Belial,” he says.
The thug’s fingers become like long razor-sharp blades as he grins at the girl who dangles in his grip helplessly.
A dark figure runs toward the boy’s mother as she sends one of them flying back into nothingness.
The thug pulls back his hand to stab at the girl.
Running at the small boy, a monstrous dark figure appears out of the crowd as his mother rushes to jump in front of him.
“Now die!” the thug yells to the girl.
As the dream sequence begins to shatter back into reality, Psalmulus sees a disfigured face with glowing red eyes and fangs charging at him.
The thug’s large claws plunge rapidly toward the helpless young girl.
“ LEAVE HER ALONE !” Psalmulus yells.
Everything stops as glass shatters from nearby windows in the alley, and the wind begins to blow fiercely all around. The thug stops his assault on the girl as he and his friend watch in dismay at what’s happening. Dropping the girl, he starts to back up toward his companion as they both look on to see a renewed Psalmulus standing there surrounded by blue flames that gradually retreat into his body, creating a slight crater beneath him followed by a soft blue glow outlining his toned body.
“He . . . He has access to the Holy Spirit,” the other idle thug says with a trembling voice.
Psalmulus stands there looking at his hands, and then he turns his head over toward the young girl who looks up at him in astonishment and says, “Go, get out of here.”
As she hesitates at the sight of Psalmulus, she smiles at him, grabbing her book as she runs out of the alleyway.
Psalmulus looks over at the two thugs, but he no longer sees just them; he sees two dark-colored creatures standing there overshadowing each of the two guys as they look at him with glowing red eyes. They have talons on their hands and feet along with a muscular yet decaying body type.
They are the same type of creatures he saw the day his mother was killed when he was a small boy.
“You . . . You killed my mother,” Psalmulus says, looking at the two beings.
His anger begins to rise as he thinks back on all of the pain he’s felt and all the suffering he has been through since that tragic day.
“ YOU KILLED MY MOTHER !” Psalmulus yells.
With blue fire forming in his eyes, the wind starts to stir once more as if there was a tornado isolated just in that alley. The creatures have a hard time holding their footing as they lift off the ground and smash into the wall, causing them to become impaled in it.
The creature controlling the thug in the red shirt stands first. He glares at Psalmulus and growls at him, yelling, “Yes, and we’ll kill you as well!”
He charges at Psalmulus preparing for a quick, clean slash to the neck; but with precision and calculated movement, Psalmulus sidesteps with ease as he grabs his arm and tosses him into a nearby dumpster. The other creature runs over to lend a hand by punching and kicking at Psalmulus, hoping to connect with at least one blow. Dodging and blocking effortlessly, Psalmulus grabs his foot, flips him slightly up into the air, and punches him in the chest with both fists. The creature is sent flying back, becoming impaled into the wall once more. Psalmulus walks over to the limp figure but no longer sees the creature, only the unconscious thug. Suddenly, a purple vapor begins to seep out of the thug’s eyes, nose, and mouth; the smoke takes the form of the creature as it hisses at him and disperses into nothing.
Psalmulus looks down at the thug feeling confused but also feels a dark presence approaching fast behind him. He quickly turns around and sees the other creature in the air preparing to come down on him with claws extended on both hands.
“ YOU ’ LL PAY FOR THIS !” it yells out.
With a speed not even matched by a bullet, Psalmulus jumps into the air, grabbing the creature by both of its hands, flips him over, and places his feet onto its chest, slamming it into the ground, leaving a nice-sized crater beneath the two of them. Psalmulus stands on top of the creature as it groans in pain.
Kneeling down near the creature’s face, Psalmulus grabs him and pulls him forward, asking, “What are you?”
The creature chokes and coughs as it smiles a devilish smile, saying, “We demons . . . are your soon-to-be masters . . . child of God.”
Psalmulus says, “Demons? You do exist. You’ve plagued my dreams since I was a kid. Why’d you attack me and my mother?”
Psalmulus slams the demon down on the ground; it cries out in pain as he pulls it back up closer to him.
“It is because . . . hers . . . and your kind . . . cannot exist . . . in Belial’s world,” it says.
The creature fades away, and Psalmulus only sees the unconscious thug it had been controlling. Just like the other one, vapor seeps out of this man as well; Psalmulus is still enraged and disregards the demonic vapor that leaves the thug’s body.
“I’ll give you what you deserve,” Psalmulus says.
Pulling back his fist, Psalmulus prepares to strike the unconscious man to the head with a powerful blow, but he freezes in place as the angel Mikal appears beside him and places a hand on Psalmulus’s shoulder.
He says, “Be calm, young warrior, for we are not fighting against people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world.”
Psalmulus holds his fist in place as it begins to shake a little. It seems as if he’s fighting with himself over what to do.
Mikal continues, “We are fighting against those mighty powers of darkness who rule this world and against wicked spirits in the heavenly realms.”
Psalmulus punches the ground beside the thug’s head and appears to become very dizzy and weak. He begins to stand up, and he completely realizes everything that has just occurred.
“What in . . . ? I did all this?” he whispers under his breath.
He looks around at the scenery and is in shock at the destruction. Suddenly, he hears voices coming down the alleyway behind him.
A voice says, “I think all the yelling came from down here.”
When they come to the area where the battle had just taken place, they see Psalmulus standing there over one of the thugs’ bodies with his back to them while the other lay against the wall.
One of the men yells, “Hey, what’s going on back here? What did you do to them?”
Psalmulus grabs his book bag and takes off running down the other direction very quickly, not looking back for the fear of them identifying him.
Inside of the First National Bank of Neo Creek, Grandma Grey and Éclair Dubois sit there, waiting on the thirty-third floor. It’s almost closing time, and there are very few people still on that floor.
Grandma Grey says jokingly, “Maybe the poor girl got lost.”
“If so, she’s not doing her job as a receptionist,” Éclair says unsympathetically.
“We’ve been waiting here for nearly a half hour,” Grandma Grey says.
Éclair adds, “Yes, you’re right. It’s 3:55 p.m., and they close at 4:00 p.m. We’ve been waiting for too long.”
Éclair stands up and looks around to see who is watching her, and then she looks over at Grandma Grey, saying, “What I’m about to do is a little unorthodox, but sit tight. I’ll get all this taken care of.”
Grandma Grey looks at her with a puzzled look and says, “What are you going to do?”
She replies, “I’m taking myself to see Mr. Steeleworthy.”
Éclair casually walks down the hallway as if she belonged there. When she gets out of everyone else’s eyesight, she begins to try and figure out what door the president of the bank, Maxwell Steeleworthy, is behind. Through the process of elimination, she figures out his office must be behind the big doubled doors at the end of the hallway. As she approaches the doors, about halfway down, she is stopped by the secretary that had waited on them as she comes out of one of the doors Éclair had already passed by.
“Umm . . . You can’t come down here without authorization,” Michelle says firmly.
Éclair says, “Well, you’re not doing your job as a receptionist. My client and I have been waiting for nearly a half hour for you to return.” Michelle folds her arms and says, “I’m his secretary, not a receptionist.”
“ Whatever ,” Éclair fires back.
“Mr. Steeleworthy is in a very important meeting. You’ll have to come back next week,” she explains.
Éclair responds, “And it took you a half hour to come tell us that? Yeah right, I’ll escort myself to him.”
Éclair proceeds to walk down the hallway, and Michelle follows closely behind, saying, “Miss, I said you can’t be here.”
Éclair keeps walking, and as she nears Maxwell Steeleworthy’s office doors, she reaches for the handle. Just as she grabs the handles, Michelle grabs her arm.
“I said you can’t be here. Don’t make me call security, ma’am,” Michelle says strictly.
Éclair looks back at Michelle’s hand latched to her arm and then glares at the young secretary, saying, “If you want to keep that hand, I suggest you let go of me before I break your pretty little fingers.”
Michelle lets go and stands there in sort of a shocked state when she sees the seriousness in Éclair’s eyes.
As Éclair opens the big polished-up wooden doors, she immediately sees a man sitting behind a huge office desk with his chair to the window. As he spins around in the chair facing her to see who she is, Éclair presumes by his cocky demeanor that he is Maxwell Steeleworthy, president of the bank.
“I take it you’re Mr. Steeleworthy. Some meeting you got going here,” Éclair says sarcastically.
Michelle speaks to her boss fast and in a nervous tone, “I’m sorry, Mr. Steeleworthy. I told her you couldn’t see her, but she insisted on coming in here after I specifically told her tha—”
Steeleworthy interrupts his secretary’s rambling, saying, “Don’t worry about it, Michelle. I had no idea it was a beautiful woman coming to see me. I assumed that it was someone trying to sell me something. You may leave us now.”
Michelle slowly backs out of the room with a puzzled but relieved look on her face as she closes the door.