Hope only lasted until the Angel swung her sword. She sliced down the people nearest her. She leapt, wings flapping, from one place to the next. Her blade lopped off heads. It severed arms and cut panicked refugees in half at the torso. She twirled and spun and struck again and again.

“No!” Marcus shouted. “You’re killing the wrong people! Those aren’t the monsters.” He hesitated a moment, but then he decided. The hangar was intact. The villagers were safe for now, and he couldn’t just stand watching as innocents got slaughtered. Hitting the ground, he retrieved his leg-hook. Then he went to meet the Midnight Angel.

… and before her, alone and hissing, was her adversary, the Great Snake. The Angel raced to meet him, leaving behind the honor guard of gaunts, werewolves, and thousand-legged armored centipedes the length of large dogs that had formed just behind her.

The snake demon was approaching quickly. He was a young black man from the waist up, otherwise a serpent that seemed to go on forever. There was a certain beauty in the brightly colored bands of his pebbly-textured tail, but the Angel knew that it was beauty that masked evil.

“Midnight Angel!” it called out. “Why are you doing this?”

But she had left words behind.

She snarled at him. He was an agent of the Father of Lies and she was determined not to let him snare her in a web of deceit. She charged, her hands clasped around the hilt of her black sword.

He was fast, she gave him that. She chopped at his tail and, snake quick, it flicked out of the way. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but knew her ears were closed to his entreaties. She did not deal with demons, she didn’t negotiate with them. She slew them.

He skimmed across the ground, the Angel chasing him, and slithered around an abandoned truck that had crashed and tipped over on its side. She pursued hotly, though her legs ached and her shoulder felt beyond pain. She wondered if it had partially slipped out of its socket again, but she could do nothing but clench her teeth, pursue the serpent, and send him back to hell, all for the glory of her dark lord.

She rounded the front of the truck and something lashed out like a whip, inches thick, caught her across her torso, and flung her against a wall. She smashed into it. Her vision blackened for a moment and she fought to regain her breath as her sword vanished. Her baby wailed and anger burned even deeper, if that were possible.

She could smell his snake odor somewhere nearby and she punched out, half blind, with her right hand clenched into a fist. It connected against a rough, pebbly hide, but it was her weakened left arm and she couldn’t put her whole strength into the blow. Nevertheless, she heard an agonized gasp and felt bones break under the rough hide.