Mortal [Book 1 of the War in Heaven Series]

Death

Tired. I feel so incredibly tired, there is no strength in my limbs and yet I want to move, just enough to reach the phone and dial. Maybe call my mother and say sorry, sorry for everything I have put her through and she will go through in the days, weeks, months and years to come. Or maybe to call for an ambulance, maybe they could get here in time to stop me from dying, but I can't gather the strength to move and reach the phone. The pills are working, that much I know as my thoughts grow cloudy and everything softens.

I think the room is spinning, slowly round and round, as I lay in my bed. It's starting to make me dizzy. I think I'm going to throw-up.
Ohgodohgodohgod. I can't breath. I CAN'T BREATH! Thevomit'sstuckinmythroat. CAN'T. BREATH.

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I find myself standing in a wasteland of some sort. I think it's night as everything is dark, but the moon isn't up and I can't see any stars. Yet there aren't any clouds. Weird.
Now if only I could remember how I got here. Drunken bet? Possible but I'm not hung-over, and the lads would be around somewhere, and I'm definitely alone... Wait. I can see someone in the distance moving towards me. I can feel my brows wrinkle as I frown. They're dressed in white and seem to be glowing. Weird.

"Psst!" Someone hisses from a nearby boulder. "Quickly, over here!" I look around but don't see anyone. "Hurry up kid, before he gets any closer!" The voice again, but this time I notice the dark shape hidden in the shadow of a boulder. There's something wrong with the silhouette, but I don't have time to work out what when another voice booms. Come with me mortal. It's the person dressed in white, it's a man and bloody hell! He has wings! Listen not to that demon, for he shalt lead thou astray. I'm being spoken to by an Angel!"Awww shit." Swears the first voice and a shrunken form, bestial in appearance with cloven hooves and goat horns sprouted from his head, crawls out of the shadow. "I could have done without this. Back off glow-stick. I came across him first. He's not going to be cannon fodder for you rebels!" The demon spits at the angel's sandaled feet.
The angel smirks and grabs me by the arm and pulls me roughly closer. Nay hellspawn, this mortal shalt battle for the Archangel Gabriel.
The demon shakes his head. "Not this time cloud-chaser." He grins. "This time I'm not alone. GET HIM LADS" All of a sudden a dozen shapes leap out from various spots and I'm being knocked to the floor as the angel is swarmed under. I barely get to roll aside before creatures of various sizes and body forms are thrown about and a thoroughly pissed off angel is standing there, a sword now in hand. Thou hath mades a most grevious mistake Philoctetes. Thou shalt die by mine own hand.

And the fight was on. The angel charged the first demon, Philoctetes? Who drew a short sword, which was barely a dagger in length compared to the angel's, from somewhere and parries the first few blows before being joined by the other twelve demons who have also drawn weapons and had started to encircle the angel. All I could do was scramble away and stare, wide eyed as the melee started.
Being out-numbered thirteen-to-one the angel should have found it impossible to defend himself against so many blades, and yet the angel was clearly winning as three demons dropped to the ground in as many blow, blood flowing from fatal wounds.
The remaining ten finished making the circle, surrounding the angel, and yet they were clearly on the defensive, blocking the angel's attacks but not launching any of their own. Initially the angel was a swirling dervish of attacks, never staying put or facing any one direction, he just kept spinning and launching attacks. It was maybe ten minutes, although I could've sworn it was ten hours, and another two demons had fallen to fatal wounds before the angel slowed and started to focus on one demon at a time, confident that the eight demons it still faced would not launch an attack, but just defend themselves.
This proved to be the angel's undoing as Philoctetes, now standing behind the angel, darts forwards, his sword swinging, and brings the angel screaming to the ground as the back of both feet are cut open to the bone. Hamstrung. The other seven demons pile on, sword rising and falling until all that remained was a bleeding mess, sword hand severed at the wrist. Breathing hard Philoctetes stands over the angel, sword at it's throat. "Sorry canary, I win this time."
The angel bares his teeth. Next time Philoctetes I shalt have thine life. The sword sinks home.