Battle Angel (Immortal City 3)

Of blood.

One lone demon emerged slowly from the bloody froth. It was enormous. Its black skin, rugged with scales, seemed to actually be on fire, a putrid mass of black flame and smoke roiling off its body. In fact, its skin most certainly was afire, shifting, moving, and searing with dark flames. Enormous spiny protrusions ran along its back, terrible and murderous. Multiple heads gnashing black teeth emerged from its chest, jaws snapping and snarling at the sun itself. The Dark One beat its scaly wings once, then twice, circling the sinkhole in a counterclockwise motion.

Then another demon emerged.

And another.

Soon, dozens rose up, all dripping fire, bloodred and blood-black, from the terrible waters.

“Dear God,” Chen said.

“Get us out of here, now!” Jacobson shouted frantically to the pilot.

The military surveillance copter fought against the storm winds and rose higher and higher, away from the pit.

“Charlie Niner Niner, achieve safe distance!” the voice from back on the carrier yelled over the radio.

Suddenly, an F-18 shot across the sky, deafening as it roared overhead and began to circle back.

“Boys, the cavalry has arrived. Proceed back to bearing zero-niner-twenty-four,” a voice from the fighter jet said over the radio. “We’ll take it from here.”

“Roger that, we are heading back,” Chen said. “Gladly. You watch your six out here, Trav.”

“Roger that. Getting a read on the enemy.”

The helicopter moved toward the relative safety of the carrier and battleships, some miles away.

“Will you get a load of that,” the copilot of the fighter jet said in disbelief and practical wonder as he looked at the sight below.

The demons were flying just above the surface, still in the shelter of the swirling pit, circling in the opposite direction of the roiling black and red froth.

“Looks like they’re not coming out to play,” the pilot said.

Suddenly, one demon rose up and skimmed just meters above the surface, advancing toward the fighter jet, which was trying to get a position on the hole.

“We have a bogey,” the copilot said. He leaned down and took a picture of the demon below with his iPhone as the jet banked hard right.

“I’m not scared or nothin’,” he said over the radio. “But that’s one ugly sucker.”

“Focus, man, focus,” the pilot said.

“Got it,” the copilot said. “Okay, move in tighter. Let’s see how he likes a taste of Uncle Sam’s medicine.”

“Moving in,” the pilot said, speeding up until they were right behind the Dark Angel as it roared across the ocean surface.

Beeeeeeeeeeep. The targeting screen turned red as it locked onto the demon’s heat source.

“Missile lock! Missile lock! Let’s smoke this demon right now!”

“Engaging,” the pilot said, flipping up the trigger guard and pressing the missile button.

The missile fired—and flew right over the demon’s shoulder.

“Damn!”

The Dark Angel spiraled its body around, shooting left. It looked only mildly irritated.

“Giant Killer, we need some backup firepower!” the copilot shouted.