Stained-glass windows glowed faintly in the moonlight streaming through, illuminating the sculpture of Christ on the cross that hung above the altar. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Then the sculpture seemed to move, and Christ’s body twisted on the cross to look directly at him. ...Jesus, the son of God and his saviour, seemed be smiling at him.

He felt something trickle down his face and he wiped it away irritably. When he looked at the back of his hand, he found trails of red. He had never cried in his life; in fact, he could not cry with no tear ducts. But now, at last, he was. He was crying tears of blood. For her.

How was he meant to find the Antichrist? Just walk down the street and say ‘Hello. Excuse me, but could you please point me in the direction of the son of the Devil? I want to kill him.’ It all seemed rather far-fetched.

And remember your promise,” said Sam, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t follow us.” The man glared at him but kept silent....“What?” asked Sam, slightly confused by his good humour. “I can’t believe you said that.” “What?” “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. Do you think you’re the hulk or something?” He laughed again. Sam found himself smiling although he was just telling the man the truth. He wouldn’t like him when he was angry. No-one did.

I saw you fight last night. You sure have got some fancy moves with those swords of yours. Haven’t seen anyone move like that, well, ever, and I was in the Special Forces.