Armageddon: The Final Battle

Blood. Blood everywhere, one everything. On the ground, on the buildings, on the people. Everyone is fighting, not distinguishing between friend and foe. The noise is unbearable. Everyone is screaming; dogs are barking; cats are yowling. Then it happens.
The sky goes dark. The sun stops shining. No one speaks. The world is silent. They are here.
They are not Americans. They are Russians. They are not Chinese. They are not of this world. They are angels. However, they are not what we think of when someone mentions an angel. These are no little children with gold rings around their heads and cute blonde hair. They are great shining beings, wielding deadly swords. They ride huge golden horse-like creatures. Still no one makes a sound. No one can speak, for their minds are filled with a beautiful music. Then a dog barks, heralding the arrival of more beings, none so beautiful as these.
The demons are ugly and foul. They shriek and hiss and leer at you. They come near you, and your worst memories replay in your mind. But the angels come forward, and the music returns. However, the demons don’t give up so easily. They take another step forward, in front of the angels. It becomes almost like a game. Music and memories are battling each other in your mind, like static on a radio, even as outside the angels and demons are competing for ownership of you. Finally, the demons have had enough. They turn around and attack the angels, but they’re not quick enough. The heavenly beings have their swords out, and the look on their faces makes the demons want to reconsider their decision, but it is too late. The angels are upon them, swinging their swords. There is screaming and shouting again, but this time it is not the voices of men. The men have faded into the background. The demons are hissing and shrieking, but no one can hear it because of the music that is once again playing in their minds. Then, silence.
It is over. The angels are victorious, shining so brightly you can’t look at them. Slowly, the death and carnage around you fade away, and you are standing before the One on His golden throne.
He is robed in white, and all around him angels and elders kneel before, singing alleluia. He looks at you, and you know that he can see everything you ever did, said, thought, and yet at the same time, you know he will forgive you for it if you only ask. Slowly, you drop to your knees and add your voice to the chorus of praise to the Creator. Everything else is forgotten, and still you sing. Alleluia. Amen.