
A Bedtime Ballad
Copyright © 2003
Ron Schwartz
All rights reserved.
"The demons of darkness, of which I speak, look so
hideous that many beings fail to recognize just how intelligent these creatures
are. They have two long slender wings,
completely covered with scales, a thin skin covers them almost like
fabric. The outer edge of each wing is
made of two long adjoining spines with two more extending from the center joint
down to the bottom edge. The wings make
an unmistakable flap as they beat the air, its sound like the steady methodical
beat of a snare drum slowly drawing nearer. But the wings seem abnormally small
when you take into consideration the size of these creatures. The rapid, repetitious beat of the
wings seem to have no limit in
flexibility or resiliences and give these creatures a docile appearance. When they hover, it is far from graceful and
appears more like a jerking or bouncing dance.
The skulls of these creatures seem almost barren of fatty
tissue and are covered by only a thin film of skin. They have no hair at all: only the same shining scales which
cover the rest of the body. Their long,
narrow jaws seem far too large for their heads and stretch the mouth into a
grotesquely large size. Four fangs
protrude from their mouths, two from above and from two below, extending in a
crossing pattern. Probably the most
striking feature about their skulls is the two large horns which seem to
explode from the top of the forehead outward and slightly upward parallel to
each other. These horns form a slight
curve upward near their ends, each having a small ring of skin encircling its
base like a wrinkle. The ears, while
narrow, are very prominent and rise very high to a point, seeming to end where
the large glowing red eyes begin. The high cheek bones are very pronounced,
giving the creatures an impression of a continual sinister smile. Their heads jerk incessantly from side to
side, stopping to tilt for only a moment.
Deep groans and snarls are constantly uttered, almost as if these
hideous creatures are in unending torment, what one might expect from a tormented
soul, forever cursed to the fires of hell.
The creatures possess massive chests with enormous shoulders
on top of very small waists. The
muscles surrounding the shoulders and upper back all but eliminate any vestige
of a neck. Each creature has two
powerful arms which extend from under the wings with tremendous upper arm
muscles. The little hips and two small legs give the impression that the
creature was not meant to walk or stand.
In fact, the few times which I have seen these creatures at rest, they
were hunched over in a squatting position, leaning on their arms with their
long wings neatly folded behind their backs like so many arrows for a long bow.
Their tails are very long and spiny, each bony vertebrae
seen through the thin skin all the way down to the end point. When the
creatures hover, the tail seems to thrash about in a most violent fashion, as
if striking an invisible foe. The same
thin skin that covers the tail covers every portion of these creatures except
the horns and the talons. There are
twelve talons in all to be exact, three on each hand and three on each foot
with long needle sharp points. I have
seen these creatures in almost every possible size. Their shapes varying
slightly, but each is unmistakably alike.
And they are always that same fire red color.
Perhaps the most outstanding feature of these creatures is
their indescribable, earpiercing screams.
The high pitched, unnerving shrieks obviously originated from the pits
of hell. The sound resembles a war cry
and always precedes their appearance. I
have come to know it only too well.
Sometimes they come alone, sometimes in groups of four or more, but, be
not mistaken, they will always come.
They laugh and mock me and have no shame. They often ridicule each other almost as much as they do me. Sometimes they will fight viciously amongst
themselves like wild dogs fighting for the last morsel of a carcass. Their animal-like instincts cause them to
behave as if they have been maddened by the scent of blood, but their anger is
self-perpetuating, and nothing in this world can give them peace. It is as if these creatures have no fear at
all, destined only to live out their miserable existence in a meaningless rage. They are birthed from the loins of hell,
without blood or life, and filled with nothing but evil and corruption.
So each night they come and always without any warning. I
must always be ready and on my guard, for I never know from where or at what
time these creatures will strike. While
everyone else is asleep, I watch and wait, but I show no fear, for the Mighty
One is with me. That is why I wear this
sword, and that is why I wait here every single night. I am commanded to stand here, and so here I
will stand, beside this little boy's bed.
You see, his name is David... and I'm his angel."