Two children played in the dirt of the basement as their father read by candlelight in the next room.  He would occasionally glance up and smile as they did so, some game of monsters and heroes, no doubt, with the younger girl taking the place of the less garish "good guys" at her brothers behest.  His plain wooden men careened down her ratty sock dolls.  With little restraint, the monsters whipped around between hardened, fingers still pink with youth, bashing about the sock soldiers relentlessly, the boy offering harsh blows of air for sound effect.  The toys took bits of stuffing with their too-square toes, infuriating their opponents master.  As she pulled her heroes away, her own hands got caught in the crossfire, a growl of discontent turning into a short cry of pain aimed with frustration at her inconsiderate brother.<br/><br/>"Elijah, let us remember the universe is built on kindness.  I would not want to banish you like Abraham of his son Yishmael, do you understand?"  The amused tone in his father's voice did not register in the boys weary reply of "yes, father".  With as much entertainment, the man turned back to his readings and let the children play.<br/><br/>No sooner did he than Elijah turned on his sister.  "You see what you did?  You got me in trouble!"  he hissed.<br/><br/>Sarah's pout turned into an ugly scowl.  Her retort was a whine, but quiet like her big brother, knowing in her heart he never meant to hurt her, so she did not mean to get him in trouble, but too young to understand. "Did not!  You were being mean!"<br/><br/>"You were mad cause you lost again! I knew I shouldn't play with you, you never play right."  He turned away with his wooden toys, jaw set as stubbornly as their own fixed ones.<br/><br/>"The bad guys<span style="font-style: italic">never</span>win, 'Lijah!" said the girl, pig-tails shaking with building frustration.<br/><br/>"Pfft," he blew scornfully, "not when you play them,<span style="font-style: italic">stupid</span>."<br/><br/>She gasped and turned away as well.  The father interrupted this time, though much more sternly, even closing his book to give them a glare over the top rim of his glasses and through the doorway.  "I want you quiet, you two, or I'll separate you for an early bed without supper.  You need no more<span style="font-style: italic">het</span>this day."  When they obeyed, he turned back, his posture much less comfortable.  The book, open again, was much closer to his face to compensate the disturbance to his attention.<br/><br/>"I told you it was your fault," whispered the boy over his shoulder.  "If it was all mine, daddy wouldn't punish you."<br/><br/>She twisted around, using her hands to balance her position on her knees.  "Is too - he's mad at you, too!  The Bible<span style="font-style: italic">says</span>the good guys always<span style="font-style: italic">win</span>!  Because God is with them."<br/><br/>"We don't read the bible.  That's why we have to hide down here,<span style="font-style: italic">He</span>'s not with us.  We're the bad guys, stupid, that's why Mommy's not here.  Just admit you were a baby cause you lost."<br/><br/>Sarah was angry again.  "I am not!  She got caught by the bad guys outside!  The men with the red arms got her."<br/><br/>"Prove it," he never looked at her, his voice was flat.  "If the good guys always win and you're no baby, go upstairs and prove it."<br/><br/>Sarah couldn't think of how to respond.  The idea scared her.  "I'm too small..."<br/><br/>"I told you you were a baby.  Dad and I go out all the time, and I get all these treats."<br/><br/>Her eyes widened with the prospect.  "I want treats..."<br/><br/>"You couldn't handle it,<span style="font-style: italic">baby</span>."<br/><br/>"Could, too!"  She glared at him, looking him over quickly as if to find any treats stashed on him.  She didn't, which meant he kept them all to himself and she hadn't gotten any.  "I could get some!"<br/><br/>Elijah crossed his arms hautily.  "Then prove it.  Ya know, if we are the good guys, then Mommy's a good guy, and if Mommy's a good guy, God would be with her.  In fact, I bet Mommy's up there right now.  I bet she's thinking about how much of a baby you are and that you couldn't go up no matter how many treats were up there.  Maybe she's thinking about having another baby to make-up for the mistake she made when she had you.  You got her caught and now she hates you."<br/><br/>It was so very harsh.  Bitter tears rose to little Sarah's eyes.  This wasn't like her brother, she looked up to him, he<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>her good guy.  Mommy had saved her from the bad guys when she got caught, and Elijah had saved her from them when they found her.  She always envied his strength, like Mommy.  Why was he being so mean?  He just wanted to scare her, to keep the treats for himself.  Could she really save Mommy?  Like he saved her?  Just by going upstairs?<br/><br/>"I'm not a baby," she said, her resolve clearing her face of it's ruddy-colored anger, hurt, and fear.  "I can go upstairs."<br/><br/>Elijah turned, his face close to his sisters.  "Can you?  Can you really?  I thought you said you were too small.  You're not big like me, you couldn't be brave like me, you couldn't go up like I do with Daddy, to find Mommy."<br/><br/>"Course I can!  And I'll even find her, then we'll have all the treats while<span style="font-style: italic">you</span>stay down here and I'll show you how big I am!"  With that she stopped out of the room.<br/><br/>Her father barely glanced up at her, glad to see she was separating herself from her brother and he might have some peace to get his readings done.  She stormed right past him and his amused smile came back.  Sarah always reminded him of her mother, especially when she got that determined look on her face.  He looked over toward the bedroom where Elijah watched his sister from around the doorframe, half hidden in it's shadow, with mischief written all over him and the smile curving up one cheek.  Brows furrowing into a knit of total confusion, the father leaned up to look closer at his sons shaded eyes to find the sclera impossibly blackened across the distance just as he heard the metal clanking of the locks on the hidden basement door.<br/><br/>Sarah ran out despite a hushed shout from her father, she couldn't let him stop her from proving how brave she was so he could give her the treats that he gave Elijah, that she was brave like Mommy and she could find Mommy, too.  Barely a few feet into the rubble of the building over their hidey hole, she ran into a soldier.  She backed up with fear, but when she did she found he had no patch on his arm.  He was very pale, like many of the men who did, but instead he wore a strange all black thing that somehow made her even more scared.<br/><br/>Her father came out behind her and stumbled over the debris just in time to catch his collapsing daughters form.  He cradled her neck in his elbow and looked into her face with worry, the stubbornness that was there moments ago replaced by an alien stillness he could remember only once before with the black and grey eyes to match.  He did not look up at the stranger but back for his son who came up from the basement.  His eyes were as wide as a childs could be, taking in the image of his sister and his father before this stranger feet, and likely not knowing what shadow billowed behind him but possibly what it had made him do and say, or at least that it made him do and say things he did not understand only to arrive at something more he did not understand.  Then his eyes went blank and his mouth opened wide as something more streamed from it, light where the creature behind him was dark until the latter enveloped the first.<br/><br/>The father screamed but he could not hear it over that of the creature behind him and he whipped his head back to find it staring with the disbelieving expression of a child who had his candy stolen by another.  Except this bordered on crazed.  He looked back again to find his other child drop, but without another parent to catch him.  Tears streamed from the father and he looked back once more before the man whose skin and hair matched the snow around them, rage in every drop as they fell into the teeth-grinding snarl.  It would not remain as he, too, succumbed to the One.<br/><br/>The shadow traced over its head and exited the building lazily.  From there it spotted the healthy shape of a young man walking alongside an extravagant woman and plunged into his back.<br/><br/>"I see you make fast work,<span style="font-style: italic">Mem'selle Krohs</span>..."  The face on the man remained placid though his lips moved with the words.<br/><br/>She did not face him, but her own mouth angled into the semblance of something between a smile and a sneer.  "Ba'al," her only reply.<br/><br/>The demon known as Ba'al, as many other names, smirked with satisfaction from the reaction.  He adjusted inside the uncomfortable shell of The One's puppet.  "Not very roomy.  I suppose I will have to find something less sedentary - the boy back there was fun, but he's run out of playthings about him.  Something a little more eye-catching then.  None of these blondes with which you and the - Furry? - have left this land rampant.  I noticed Asmodeus is not one of them here.  I saw your little "dinner date"; thing of inspiration, really."  He released a wistful sigh, which did not have the effect he was looking for from such stiff lips.  It was his turn to sneer.  "Ugh, I won't be here long, just thought I'd remind you who was taking all his attention... that little healing witch<span style="font-style: italic">cousin</span>of yours.  Mhm.  How it must feel to need<span style="font-style: italic">her</span>blood to birth<span style="font-style: italic">your</span>son."  His cackle went with him as he poured out of the flesh casing.  "I must say, though, you have done wonderful things with the place.  The Master is pleased, Darcy.<span style="font-style: italic">For now</span>. Good luck with your toy!"<br/><br/>And the smoke burst into solid dimensions of thousands of flies, heading in all different directions before taking a lucid path south.  The sound of their wings, and his laughter, remained long after his departure.