Holy Warrior

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Prologue:

Submitted: November 18, 2017

Reads: 269

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Submitted: November 18, 2017

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The sword felt heavy in Naomi's hand. It  gleamed off the light in the corridor of her run-down apartment, shining silver. Naomi twirled the sword in her hand, a sense of calm coming over her. The sword felt familiar, somehow. Naomi looked at the hilt of the sword. The bright red engravings on the black hilt popped out at her. The engravings weren't in any language that Naomi knew of. It just looked like swirls that went around in circles.
Naomi's blood ran cold at a patch that had a circle with the sun in the middle. She didn't know how she knew what it said.
Holy Warrior.
With trembling fingers Naomi set the sword down, praying it would dissappear. She didn't want this. Her mother had told her all about the Holy Warriors before she'd died, and it wasn't pretty. 
The Holy Warriors weren't normal. They weren't Gods' army, although many people believed they were. No. The Holy Warriors recruited anyone who showed any inhuman strength or other abilites. If you didn't accept the offer from them, you'd be dead in a month.
The Holy Warriors, ironically, work for Lucifer, the devil. They kill off supernatural beings and humans who know of them. They don't have a soul. It is said that the Holy Warriors cannot die. Immortality may be tempting but what about going to Heaven? Nope. Once you've sworn allegience with  the  Holy Warriors, you were for the Devil. If you did anything too evil, you were chained down in Hell by the Fallen Angels for god knows how long.
I don't want this, Naomi thought to herself. Just kill me now.
Naomi dragged her phone out of her pocket and dialed her best friend's number. She, of course, picked up on the first ring.
"I got one too." Naomi's best friend's voice trembled. She knew what was going to happen if they didn't swear their allegience.
"I'm not doing it," Naomi said bluntly. "I can't believe out of everyone in our group they picked the two of us, Mandy."
Mandy had been Naomi's best friend since kindergarten. They never fought. They never kept secrets. That was their motto.
Mandy had gotten bullied a lot when they were freshman, but now it was Senior year and no one wanted to mess with them. They'd grown up a lot in those three years. Mandy was tall and pudgy. She ate a lot but you'll never hear Naomi say anything about it. Mandy had bright red hair and pasty skin. Her eyes were the color of emeralds, and Naomi had always admired that about her.
A sob tore Naomi from her thoughts. "I'm never going to get married. I'm never going to have children. What am I supposed to do? What are we supposed to do?" Mandy was on the verge of freaking out, and Naomi couldn't do anything about it. Because she too, was freaking out.
"I-I-I gotta go," Naomi choked out, hanging the phone up.
Naomi clutched the phone to her chest and slid down the  wall of her room, staring at the sword. I hate you. I hate 
you. I hate you. Naomi heard sizzling and popping. Naomi looked around for where it could be coming from. Then, her head snapped back in front of her.

The sword.
Naomi stood on her trembling legs and staggered to the table where she'd left it. The sword was turning a bright orange color, the hilt melting. What's going on? Naomi backed away before she got hurt.
Naomi backed right into a brick wall. At least, that's what it felt like. Naomi swiveled around in time to see a man. A tall, tall man standing right in front of her. His eyes were a dark shade of brown and his blonde curls fell limp around his face. 
"Who are you?" Naomi tried to sound minacing, but she didn't think it came out quite right.
I'm here to help you, the man said. Naomi hadn't seen his lips move, but she knew it had to be him talking.
"How is that," Naomi turned and pointed at the sizzling sword, "helping me?!"
You will be free from the cursed Holy Warriors under one condition.
Naomi eyed him, trying to find a motive. Trying to find, well, anything really. She didn't know this man. She didn't trust him. He literally smelled liked death.
"How can I trust that a month from now I won't drop dead?" Naomi crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the man.
You don't know. You just have to trust me.
Naomi laughed. "Trust you? I just met you!"
I am a Fallen Angel. I sinned against my own kind to fall, just to save you. Your mother was a great friend of mine.
Naomi's breath caught at the mention of her mother. Then, after shock, turned to anger. "You don't get to speak of my mother. You're a fallen angel, huh? Well, guess what kind of species killed my mother?" Naomi pretended to think for a second. "Your kind!"
The man seemed unfazed, which sent Naomi's anger boiling and her skin crawling. The condition that I set you free is this. The man slipped a piece of paper into Naomi's hand. The place where their skin touched ignited with electricilty sending a jolt throughout her whole body.
Naomi jumped back, paper in hand. Looking at the man, Naomi unfolded the paper. It read:

Naomi Delaine
If you're reading this then I'm long dead by now. The man in front of you while you're reading this is Damien Gray. He is a Fallen Angel who helped me a lot throughout the years. I trust him with my life as you should. He's a very powerful ally on our side. Whenever the time is right, he will come back to you. Do not push him away. You and him are the last hope for everyone's survival. A war is brewing, Naomi. It's going to take everyone in the supernatural community to take down this enemy   coming. I trust that you will take my word for it. I love you and I will be watching over you.
Love, Mom

Naomi's throat clogged up. Trying to stop the tears from coming, she held the note to her chest. She recognized the handwriting as her mother's, but she didn't want to believe it was hers.
Naomi looked up, vision still blurry from the tears. "So your name is Damien Gray, and my mother wanted me to trust you."
The man- Damien- looked up at her and for a split second Naomi saw sadness in the man's perfect face. Then, blink. Gone. "Yes. Your mother was like a mother to me. I wouldn't be alive without her."
"What'd she do for you?" Naomi asked, still trying to keep her voice calm. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry.
"She hid me when the Holy Warriors recruited me. She kept me protected under a protection spell. Don't worry," Damien said looking at Naomi's horrified expression, "Your mother only used the spell for me. She didn't want to risk exposure."
Naomi's mother was a witch. Witches weren't allowed to use their powers unless they got approved by the Coven. The witch's gene and the human gene, her father's gene, made Naomi a human. The witch's gene wasn't the dominant part, unless two witches got together. That's why there were so few of the witches nowadays.
"Why would she do that for you? Go against the Coven? They could have killed her if they had found out," Naomi said, filled with anger. Anger that maybe just maybe it wasn't the Fallen Angels that had killed her mother. Maybe it was the  Coven.
"My father was a very close friend of hers. She promised him that if anything happened to him that she would take care of me," Damien said matter-of-factly.
"Well, my mom's dead and I made no such promise." Naomi sent an icy glare towards Damien.
Damien laughed. "I know that. I came here to help you. Now that we got rid of the sword, I have a few people I want you to meet. They'll help us get to where we have to go."
"What? I'm not leaving. I just got my own place," Naomi whined.
"We need to get you into hiding as soon as possible. Like your mother said, a war is brewing, and like it or not," Damien looked at Naomi with sympathy. "you're going to be the one to lead our army.


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