Blasphemous Creatures

They all came crashing down

"911 what's the emergency?"
"I don't know what happened! My husband just died! Theres no pulse!"
"Ma'am calm down!"

"Papa! Wake up"
"Eliza get away from him! Go up to your room"

"Father! Please save us"

The priest slammed against the door, clutching his head. The headache he had felt everlasting, what was happening? It had been a normal August in 2013, everything was right! But the first call to him happened- a hysterical young boy, he could hardly speak from being out of breath. Every few words he snuffled and sobbed every few seconds, and cried loudly, it was hard to hear what the boy was trying to say
The next call were frantic little girls. The children spoke fast, almost too fast fast. He helped them as much as he could
The next call was from his own personal phone, from his sisters contact. His heart froze, and so did his arm. Eventually he picked up
"Darren! It's Mum!" His youngest sister screamed, wailing
"Kelly! Breathe! What is it?" He asked, and she breathed, slowing down her crying and she carried on
""Mums dead!"
Darren froze, his phone falling out of his hand- the screen shattered upon impact with the hard wooden floor
Darren felt the tears drip down his cheeks, crying loudly- just like he did when his father died. His sisters dot remember it. They weren't old enough, however the image of his brain matter strewn all across the walls and road will forever stay with him. He collapsed onto the ground. After a few minutes, it all faded to back

After a few minutes, his eyes fluttered open. Hs head ached and his chest was tight. Stumbling to the phone, he dialled the number he never thought he would have to cal

"Welcome to the Cherubim shield and Seraphim eyes headquarters, my name is Gloss, what kind of services are needed? if you need help faking a call, say hey, if you don't, say hi. If you need help faking a call I will help you fake a call to get you the proper help needed" cheerful woman with a thick Norwegian accent spoke softly and elegantly. Her voice was certainly perfect for being a teleoperator, as it can calm people, as Darren found. He swallowed air, and took a breath, thinking of a response
"Gloss, right?" He questioned, sitting on the floor, resting against the desk. He didn't know how to respond, or explain
"You won't call me crazy, right?" He wondered, waiting for a response. Almost immediately, he heard a response
"Of course not"
He plotted a response, then took a breath
"My name is Father Darren Elijah, for the past few hours, people have been dropping dead in this city, left and right, orphaning children and widowing lovers, leaving parents childless. May god bless us all, but none of us can handle this anymore, god has abandoned us! Save our souls, Vatican, save our souls!" He pleaded, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest
He heard a tut from the other side from the girls tongue, as she thought of how to respond
"Alright, which city is this? I will send an alert to the closest cherubim shield" she asked, typing heard from the other end of the line, a fast but not outrageously fast pace
"Delaware, Pennsylvania" He responded
An audible sigh was heard on the other end
"The closest priest to you is in New Jersey. I'll send an alert to them to take action, and alert others of their squadron to join you"
The man tried to calm himself down again- he'll pour himself a cup of tea! That'll do it!

He stared out of the window, daydreaming to a better reality, one where this bullshit wasn't happening, one where his mother wasn't one of the unfortunate, where his dad was still alive and wasn't dead, one where he still had his real left arm, a reality where everyone was happy. Only breaking out and returning, his subconscious awakening as the kettle whistled, deafening the mans sensitive hearing. He took the kettle off of the heat, and poured hot water into the cup, accidentally burning his hand at the same time
"Shit" he muttered, running his hand under cold water. After the accident, his hand- eye coordination had dropped significantly. He had no clue why, but he was now accident prone, he was forever accidentally cutting himself while chopping food, pouring hot water on his hand. It wasn't all too uncommon for him to be taken to A&E with a burn or a cut. It has been like this ever since the accident. The accident that left him disabled, his mother disfigured and his father dead. The girls don't Remember it, Kelly was a few months old, asleep in the back, and Lara was 2 years old, also asleep. But Darren remembered it like it was yesterday, as the only child awake. It did not matter to him what happened on the night the air was sideswiped by an out of control trucker carrying diesel. That's all it was, an accident. 3 people died that night. His dad, the trucker and Darren deep inside. It has been 17 years since the accident