Wrath Of God

Chapter 6: 'I am Za'aphiel'

Six years later…

My name is Za’aphiel. The name means “Wrath of God”. Za'aphiel is the angel that the lord sends to punish those whose hearts are blackened by sin and who revel in their wickedness. I am the wrath of God. I punished those who sinned and those who revelled in their wickedness. This was my purpose.
I was given this purpose by The Gentleman. He opened my eyes and showed me the light. For as long as I can remember I have been searching for a purpose, wondering what it was I was supposed to be doing. Now I knew. The only person I had loved had been killed by a monster. My mother was innocent and my father, the sinner, had killed her.
 I could not change that but what I could do was prevent monsters like my father from hurting women like my mother. That is why I preferred the name Angelus Servans. It means 'saving angel' in latin.
I am the guardian angel that watches over the world and saves the innocent.
Although I am a saving angel it is not enough just to take the innocent out of the bad situation. It is not enough just to save the innocent.
The wicked will just find new victims and the circle would start again.
Evil needed to be killed. The wicked needed to be purged from this world and they needed to be punished for their sins. That is why I am Za’aphiel. I am God’s wrath, I am the punishment of God.
This is my purpose.

 

In order to become Za’aphiel I had to stop being Kyle Palmer. Kyle Palmer was weak, empty and devoid of purpose. Za’aphiel was strong, determined and full of glorious purpose. My transformation was not an overnight phenomenon. It took lots of blood, sweat and tears but I endured it all because I had found purpose. It was this purpose that got me through it all. Every bruise, cut and broken bone. Every failure, every insult and every form of punishment. I was trained by the best in several different forms of combat. My body was turned into weapon but for it to be successful weapon it had to be broken, moulded and carefully crafted into what it needed to be. My main teacher was named Yurov. He was a man of very little words, preferring to communicate through his actions and his actions were brutal. It was a difficult journey but I learnt and I became the best there is.

I remembered one day in particular. The day I stopped being Kyle Palmer and I became Za’aphiel. It was two in the morning, it was icy cold and my thin ragged blanket did little to protect me against the harsh unforgiving cold climate.
My body was in intense pain. Every muscle aching and my body covered in scrapes and bruises. The night before I had endured the last night of intense survival training in harsh terrain against the cruel mother nature and even crueler Yurov who very few survived. Just as I felt myself finally drifting off into a well deserved sleep I heard something roll into the room and heard a faint ticking sound. Quickly and instinctively I leapt to my feet on top of my bed, reached foe the air duct and yanked the cover off. I had loosened the bolts of it before and positioned my bed underneath the duct just in case. One of my lessons I had learnt, always be prepared for anything.
Your enemies could strike anytime from anywhere. I grabbed my pillow and threw it in the air vent before quickly hauling myself up and in. I positioned the pillow in front of me and braced myself. I had previously put a sheet of metal inside my pillow case for defensive purposes as well as a thinner piece of metal for offensive.
A small explosive went off in the room sending what little I had into pieces and my bed on flames.

I jumped out of the air vent just as Yurov stealthily entered the room. He fired a shot off at me from his pistol but the bullet deflected off the metal sheet from my pillow.
Without hesitation I pulled the thin piece of metal out from the pillow casing and hurled the small make-shift knife across the room and into the wrist of Yurov causing him to howl in pain and drop the pistol. I gave him no time to recover and stepped forward with a powerful thrust kick to his chest knocking him back and followed with a furious array of strong jabs and hard punched which he desperately blocked and tried to counter but my attack was relentless and forced him back against the wall.
After he blocked a swinging right hand I followed with a massive left uppercut that connected with his jaw hard. I then hit him in his solar-plexus with my right knee knocking all his wind out of him. A strong punch with my right hand broke his nose causing blood to flow freely. I stepped back and delivered a fierce roundhouse kick that sent a ringing in Yurov’s ears and sent him crashing to the floor.
Another lesson I had learned was thought if your opponent was still conscious, he was still a threat and the fight was not over. I raised my fist and went down onto my knees next to my dangerous teacher and brought my fist down hard striking him with a deadly blow to the head that rendered him unconscious. It was the first time I had ever beaten Yurov. My heart was beating rapidly and my breathing was hard as I was still high on adrenaline. I heard footsteps approaching and leapt to my feet and into an offensive ready to attack position. The Gentleman walked around the corner clapping nonchalantly and said, ‘At ease Kyle, the fight is over and you have won. You have made me proud.’
I stood straight up and smiled at the compliment but then my face changed back to that of respect and stern determination. I was not an adoring child, I was a soldier.
The Gentleman nodded, turned around to walk out the door and said, ‘follow me.’