Vi veri veniversum vivus vici 12/?
Father Ignatius had heard everything the newcomers had said. Still he wasn't sure he could trust his ears. Demons? Real demons? And the young man that was lying on the floor cringing in pain - an angel?! But then he heard the older man that was pinned to a wall next to him starting to chant - the Exorcism of the Rituale Romanum - and the hell spawn staggered. He could feel the grip of their powers fading a little - he was not imagining things!
"I've got an idea!" he whispered, "Just keep them occupied!"
The other man kept throwing Latin at the demons' heads while the priest felt the evil forces keeping him in place slowly weaken further. Soon he would be able to move...
Of course it couldn't be that easy. One of the demons managed to silence the man pinned next to Father Ignatius the very moment the priest could move again. Although he darted towards his room in the back of the old church, he knew he wouldn't be able to make it in time.
"The parson is trying to flee!"
"Just let him, I wanna practice my aim."
"He's right, let him run. He's a priest, he won't abandon them."
Something flew past Father Ignatius's head - one of the leather bound song books. He tried to duck while still running but the next tome hit him that hard on the back the priest went down.
Books after books kept hurling themselves at the Father, making him stumble instead of sprinting towards the simple wooden door behind the altar. He had to reach it. Again a tome smacked into the priest's back adding another bruise. He was nearly there. A few more steps...
Something else flew through the air - a massive candle holder. If it had hit the priest he was sure it would have cracked his skull open. The game was over. Now the demons were using the real stuff.
~*~
As Father Ignatius closed the door he sighed deeply, relief flooding his body. Something crashed hard against the old wood, made the door rattle and the priest jump, reminding him that there were only a few unsound boards between himself and the hell spawn. He still had to hurry.
Frantically he opened his drawers, searching through stacks of books, muttering "Come on, where is it? Dammit, where?" He hadn't opened the book in years, never thought he'd ever need to. But right now he was glad he had kept it near. There! He pulled the old and used looking tome from one of his stacks and opened it immediately. Even the pendant was still there.
~*~
When Father Ignatius opened the door and stepped into the semicircular apse he clutched the old book to his chest. From behind the altar he could see that one of the demons was teasing the older man while the two others were occupied with the injured angel. None of them was paying attention as he slowly and very cautiously sneaked through Choir and Crossing, ducking behind the rows of wooden pews, taking every cover he could get. His destination was already only a few meters away.
There was a clear area with nothing to hide behind that the priest had to cross in order to reach the richly ornamented column. Father Ignatius glanced over his cover noticing the hell spawn torturing the man would be able to see him clearly if the priest would have tried to run to his destination. He needed some kind of diversion. Something to make all demons look in the other direction...
A loud groan, the audible rustling of feathers and a cry full of pain caught the attention of everybody. Father Ignatius tried not to think what might have caused that sound as he sprinted towards the column and hid behind the wooden stairs leading up to the church's pulpit. If he managed to climb the old steps without the creaking wood giving away his position - and intention - too soon he might be able to use the sound system to his benefit. Up at the wooden pulpit the demons would not be able to spot him easily and hopefully none of the hell spawn could manage to work his powers without line of sight.
Father Ignatius knew the steps were anything but quiet. Every single one creaked or squeaked or squealed depending on where and how you stepped on it. He had never tried to find a silent path. But if he tried to remember perhaps he could avoid at least the loudest spots. The demons were arguing now. One snubbing the others for... well... the priest wasn't quite sure. It was because the Angel had been too loud but he frankly had no idea what the hell spawns were up to and the voices were - although agitated - still too low for him to understand everything.
Finally Father Ignatius had reached the microphone, pulled it cautiously down and opened the book at the right page before hitting the 'ON' switch. A loud whistling noise howled through the speakers. Ok... now he had the attention of everybody the priest was sure. He had better start reading soon...
Sancte Michael Archangele,
defende nos in proelio;
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:
tuque, Princeps militiae Caelestis,
satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,
divina virtute in infernum detrude.
Amen.
Father Ignatius could hear commotion. A new, young voice was yelling: "Cas! Dammit! Bobby!" and a different one let out warning "Dean!" Sounds of shuffling feet. Frantic steps. Cautiously the priest stood, peeked down and noticed three other people had entered his church.
A young one, Goliath with a noticeable lack of a haircut, was fighting against one of the demons, his only weapon a knife. Another man, older but still young in comparison to the priest himself, clad in an expensive suit tossed a dagger at the third newcomer who caught the weapon with practiced ease and drove it into the demon next to him in one fluent movement. Although Father Ignatius could not help noticing the predatory grace the slightly bowlegged young man displayed, it was the other man, the one in the suit that hadn't interfered other from handing the dagger to his comrade, that caught the priest's attention. That guy was surrounded by an aura of power. Much stronger than all of the three demons together. And he too was unmistakably of Lucifer's retinue. Or... Perhaps it was the Devil himself?!
~*~
It was way too easy killing those sons of bitches that had attacked Cas and Bobby. With Crowley canceling their demonic powers they weren't harder to fight than the average guy - no, they were actually easier because those demons had been relying on their forces for so long they didn't know how to fight with their own - well, their vessel's own arms and legs. And the sight of Castiel lying motionless inside some kind of pseudo-Devil's Trap, the shadows of his huge wing clearly visible on the cold stone floor added to his rage, made his fight even more deadly.
It didn't take both Winchesters longer than perhaps half a minute, then all three demons were bloody corpses that stained the stone floor. Dean gestured his brother to look after Bobby while he stepped to Crowley who was crouched down next to the circle Castiel was lying inside.
"DON'T TOUCH!"
The older Winchester flinched heavily at the outburst.
"Hey, easy, relax man." Dean retreated a bit.
"Do. Not. Touch," Crowley repeated in a low voice but with no less firmness.
Dean took a closer look at the elaborate drawing on the floor careful not to actually step onto the lines while trying to ignore those fateful shadows of his friend's wings. It looked vaguely like a Devil's Trap mixed with the angel summoning stuff he had seen in the Key of Solomon Bobby owned and a few Enochian letters thrown in for good measure. He was sure the blood that had been used to produce the strange painting was Castiel's own. So, as Crowley not only ran a finger through one of the thick and sticky lines, but licked the rich crimson from his forefinger, Dean was understandably disgusted.
"Dude! What the fuck?!"
"Shh..."
The demon again dragged a digit through the drawing only to proceed sucking the blood from his finger. Dean shuddered with repulsion.
"Sweet... Mhm... There is nothing better then fresh angel blood." Crowley looked up at Dean smirking slightly as he noticed how nauseated and appalled the hunter looked. "... at least not for things like this trap." The Demon stood up again, straightened his clothes while he said incidentally, "He's safe to be touched now."
~*~
Dean had just kneeled down and was looking for the Angel's pulse as Crowley's voice suddenly filled the old Navis, resounding from the stone walls: "Pater. It's save to come out of the wood again." Still loud enough for his words to echo back and forth but this time directed at Sam who was helping Bobby to limp over to them and at Dean who had finally found a weak and irregular heartbeat the demon elaborated, "The good padre has prevented those thugs from inflicting serious damage with his exorcism. Luckily I am not prone to such weak rituals like the Prayer to Saint Michael. Otherwise this fight might have ended differently."
While the hesitant footsteps of the priest could be heard on the old wooden stairs Bobby - still leaning heavily on Sam - spoke up, "Dean, please take care of Castiel. I'm sure the Father will help you although I don't know how much he witnessed." Then the old hunter turned to the demon. "So, you are Crowley. The idjit that gave a useless weapon to my boys and sent them off to shoot the Devil? We two are gonna have a talk. Now."
Chapter 13
Father Ignatius had heard everything the newcomers had said. Still he wasn't sure he could trust his ears. Demons? Real demons? And the young man that was lying on the floor cringing in pain - an angel?! But then he heard the older man that was pinned to a wall next to him starting to chant - the Exorcism of the Rituale Romanum - and the hell spawn staggered. He could feel the grip of their powers fading a little - he was not imagining things!
"I've got an idea!" he whispered, "Just keep them occupied!"
The other man kept throwing Latin at the demons' heads while the priest felt the evil forces keeping him in place slowly weaken further. Soon he would be able to move...
Of course it couldn't be that easy. One of the demons managed to silence the man pinned next to Father Ignatius the very moment the priest could move again. Although he darted towards his room in the back of the old church, he knew he wouldn't be able to make it in time.
"The parson is trying to flee!"
"Just let him, I wanna practice my aim."
"He's right, let him run. He's a priest, he won't abandon them."
Something flew past Father Ignatius's head - one of the leather bound song books. He tried to duck while still running but the next tome hit him that hard on the back the priest went down.
Books after books kept hurling themselves at the Father, making him stumble instead of sprinting towards the simple wooden door behind the altar. He had to reach it. Again a tome smacked into the priest's back adding another bruise. He was nearly there. A few more steps...
Something else flew through the air - a massive candle holder. If it had hit the priest he was sure it would have cracked his skull open. The game was over. Now the demons were using the real stuff.
~*~
As Father Ignatius closed the door he sighed deeply, relief flooding his body. Something crashed hard against the old wood, made the door rattle and the priest jump, reminding him that there were only a few unsound boards between himself and the hell spawn. He still had to hurry.
Frantically he opened his drawers, searching through stacks of books, muttering "Come on, where is it? Dammit, where?" He hadn't opened the book in years, never thought he'd ever need to. But right now he was glad he had kept it near. There! He pulled the old and used looking tome from one of his stacks and opened it immediately. Even the pendant was still there.
~*~
When Father Ignatius opened the door and stepped into the semicircular apse he clutched the old book to his chest. From behind the altar he could see that one of the demons was teasing the older man while the two others were occupied with the injured angel. None of them was paying attention as he slowly and very cautiously sneaked through Choir and Crossing, ducking behind the rows of wooden pews, taking every cover he could get. His destination was already only a few meters away.
There was a clear area with nothing to hide behind that the priest had to cross in order to reach the richly ornamented column. Father Ignatius glanced over his cover noticing the hell spawn torturing the man would be able to see him clearly if the priest would have tried to run to his destination. He needed some kind of diversion. Something to make all demons look in the other direction...
A loud groan, the audible rustling of feathers and a cry full of pain caught the attention of everybody. Father Ignatius tried not to think what might have caused that sound as he sprinted towards the column and hid behind the wooden stairs leading up to the church's pulpit. If he managed to climb the old steps without the creaking wood giving away his position - and intention - too soon he might be able to use the sound system to his benefit. Up at the wooden pulpit the demons would not be able to spot him easily and hopefully none of the hell spawn could manage to work his powers without line of sight.
Father Ignatius knew the steps were anything but quiet. Every single one creaked or squeaked or squealed depending on where and how you stepped on it. He had never tried to find a silent path. But if he tried to remember perhaps he could avoid at least the loudest spots. The demons were arguing now. One snubbing the others for... well... the priest wasn't quite sure. It was because the Angel had been too loud but he frankly had no idea what the hell spawns were up to and the voices were - although agitated - still too low for him to understand everything.
Finally Father Ignatius had reached the microphone, pulled it cautiously down and opened the book at the right page before hitting the 'ON' switch. A loud whistling noise howled through the speakers. Ok... now he had the attention of everybody the priest was sure. He had better start reading soon...
Sancte Michael Archangele,
defende nos in proelio;
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:
tuque, Princeps militiae Caelestis,
satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,
divina virtute in infernum detrude.
Amen.
Father Ignatius could hear commotion. A new, young voice was yelling: "Cas! Dammit! Bobby!" and a different one let out warning "Dean!" Sounds of shuffling feet. Frantic steps. Cautiously the priest stood, peeked down and noticed three other people had entered his church.
A young one, Goliath with a noticeable lack of a haircut, was fighting against one of the demons, his only weapon a knife. Another man, older but still young in comparison to the priest himself, clad in an expensive suit tossed a dagger at the third newcomer who caught the weapon with practiced ease and drove it into the demon next to him in one fluent movement. Although Father Ignatius could not help noticing the predatory grace the slightly bowlegged young man displayed, it was the other man, the one in the suit that hadn't interfered other from handing the dagger to his comrade, that caught the priest's attention. That guy was surrounded by an aura of power. Much stronger than all of the three demons together. And he too was unmistakably of Lucifer's retinue. Or... Perhaps it was the Devil himself?!
~*~
It was way too easy killing those sons of bitches that had attacked Cas and Bobby. With Crowley canceling their demonic powers they weren't harder to fight than the average guy - no, they were actually easier because those demons had been relying on their forces for so long they didn't know how to fight with their own - well, their vessel's own arms and legs. And the sight of Castiel lying motionless inside some kind of pseudo-Devil's Trap, the shadows of his huge wing clearly visible on the cold stone floor added to his rage, made his fight even more deadly.
It didn't take both Winchesters longer than perhaps half a minute, then all three demons were bloody corpses that stained the stone floor. Dean gestured his brother to look after Bobby while he stepped to Crowley who was crouched down next to the circle Castiel was lying inside.
"DON'T TOUCH!"
The older Winchester flinched heavily at the outburst.
"Hey, easy, relax man." Dean retreated a bit.
"Do. Not. Touch," Crowley repeated in a low voice but with no less firmness.
Dean took a closer look at the elaborate drawing on the floor careful not to actually step onto the lines while trying to ignore those fateful shadows of his friend's wings. It looked vaguely like a Devil's Trap mixed with the angel summoning stuff he had seen in the Key of Solomon Bobby owned and a few Enochian letters thrown in for good measure. He was sure the blood that had been used to produce the strange painting was Castiel's own. So, as Crowley not only ran a finger through one of the thick and sticky lines, but licked the rich crimson from his forefinger, Dean was understandably disgusted.
"Dude! What the fuck?!"
"Shh..."
The demon again dragged a digit through the drawing only to proceed sucking the blood from his finger. Dean shuddered with repulsion.
"Sweet... Mhm... There is nothing better then fresh angel blood." Crowley looked up at Dean smirking slightly as he noticed how nauseated and appalled the hunter looked. "... at least not for things like this trap." The Demon stood up again, straightened his clothes while he said incidentally, "He's safe to be touched now."
~*~
Dean had just kneeled down and was looking for the Angel's pulse as Crowley's voice suddenly filled the old Navis, resounding from the stone walls: "Pater. It's save to come out of the wood again." Still loud enough for his words to echo back and forth but this time directed at Sam who was helping Bobby to limp over to them and at Dean who had finally found a weak and irregular heartbeat the demon elaborated, "The good padre has prevented those thugs from inflicting serious damage with his exorcism. Luckily I am not prone to such weak rituals like the Prayer to Saint Michael. Otherwise this fight might have ended differently."
While the hesitant footsteps of the priest could be heard on the old wooden stairs Bobby - still leaning heavily on Sam - spoke up, "Dean, please take care of Castiel. I'm sure the Father will help you although I don't know how much he witnessed." Then the old hunter turned to the demon. "So, you are Crowley. The idjit that gave a useless weapon to my boys and sent them off to shoot the Devil? We two are gonna have a talk. Now."
Chapter 13