one of Klaud's wips: Babylon the Great

I started this months ago. There's a two-pronged focus to the fiction which I'm not sure is working for me. One, there are angels that channel themselves through a young man named Samuel. He has looks, personality and smarts - all set to go forth and conquer the world, but then angels EAT his brain. They speak through him. Which maybe you'd think was okay, but these guys aren't really cherubic angels, they're strong and terrifying and they have a purpose in mind. 

 He's in church:

<“Samuel? Sam, what’s wrong?” Clare asked. 

“She’s coming for me.” Samuel squeezed his eyes shut, the lines of his face taut, terrified.

 Preacher Caleb gripped Samuel’s shoulder gently. “Who’s coming for you, Samuel?”

“She is. Nonono—” Samuel grabbed his father’s hand. He looked up at his parents and sister and then Caleb, beseeching, his eyes wet and wide.

“Nobody’s going to hurt you, Sam,” Caleb said, his voice gentle.

Samuel’s face shifted, sardonic and bemused, eyes slitted and older than the ancients. “She won’t like you calling her whore like that. Even if that’s what she is.”

“What— Caleb looked confused, but then his face cleared. “The Bible names her whore. Who are you?” Caleb said.

“It’s Sam, preacher,” Samuel’s mother said, looking puzzled and afraid, and, “Of course it’s Samuel!” his father exclaimed, but the preacher shook his head.

“Look at him. Does it sound like Samuel to you?”  

“No,” Clare said, her voice small and shaking. “Sam, please.”

“I’m not a devil, Preacher. It’s only me. Me and the angels.” It was Samuel again, voice low and tired and afraid. He looked up. “They talk to me. And now they’re talking to all of you. Through me.” >

And two, he's kidnapped by the Witch of the Woods. She seduces him in short order. She's wild, black hair and body like whips - long, agile, energetic. She has a purpose as well, and how the two purposes collide? Well, that's the question and maybe what I've halted for (at the moment).

Here, she hasn't revealed herself. She's only the wind to Samuel:

<The wind ran over the grass and swirled across his body, slowing, nipping at the neck of his soft, faded T-shirt, ghost gray in what was left of the light. He sat up, tugged it off in one smooth motion and threw it aside, grass brushing his shoulders in tiny cool points as he settled back. The stars were weak washes of stain pressed into the sky, becoming more visible through the leaves as the minutes passed. The breeze flowed around his wrists, fluttering over his chest, drifting down over his flat stomach. Samuel’s nipples tightened to dusky peaks beneath the delicate touch. He edged a hand beneath the waistband of his jeans, brushing over skin with blunt fingernails, scraping over crisp hair lower down. He cupped himself, cock stiffening, hard and warm in his hand, balls tightening against his body. With his other hand he unbuttoned his pants, spreading the flaps. The wind followed, nipped over his skin and down, plucked at his stroking, squeezing fingers. His body arched so that the air flowed beneath and over him, and his cock throbbed in his grip. >

Clare is named in honor of my pal, Clare London, fellow writer:)