Hello everyone.
I am back again to try my hand at the Finish the Story Contest please check it out and support it. A shout out to 
First the start
Apocalypse and Pretzels
Early in the morning, in the bitey air of an unripe April, fine pearls of rain drew averted trajectories, trying to prolong their run towards the ground. The morning sunlight slipped through them, caressing their lopsided dances.
A freshly baked pretzel perfume mingled with the acrid, yet familiar note of wet tarmac. Similar to the inviting singing of a mermaid, that fragrant smelling trail traveled for blocks coming from who knows where, bringing the illusion of a tasty breakfast at hand.
On Madison, the sound of a distant pneumatic hammer, disinterested in that diaphanous moment of peace, reminded the city of its daily duties. The need to renew the infinite interweaving of order and chaos, the human sap of a monotonous and, at the same time, different becoming.
An old beggar was taking shelter from the drizzle under the entrance of the Met Breuer.
He seemed to come out of nowhere and, in a sense, gave the idea of having been there forever. The shabby headgear with ear-muffs could barely contain the explosion of white hair, gathered in damp, frayed cords due to the persistent drops of aerosol. The festive and bizarre trichological chaos reigning on his head only sharpened the contrast with the fixedness of his gaze, veiled by a cataract under the crusty eyelashes. Forearms and hands rested parallel, laying on a small and unusual pink plastic banquet that seemed to have been recovered from an abandoned nursery.
In front of him, carefully lying on the small pink table, he placed a typical cardboard square. Strangely enough, where a message of help was supposed to be found, not even a "everything helps" decorated the miserable panel which, laconic and brash together, was left naked to look at the sidewalk.
None of the hasty passers-by would have ever bothered to look down at the bizarre old man but, if someone had stopped for a while, perhaps he would have noticed that his open lips uttered a constant chant, a whisper of elusive and continuous vibrations.
"Now the distortion around him has become almost visible, how much do you think it could go on?". In truth, for several hours what had happened under the gray shed had captured the growing interest of two luminescent figures, on the other side of the road. From time to time, they exchanged positions to steal each other the best view. Their feet seemed to slip soft like fog on the cold sidewalk.
"Learn about silence once and for all, Duth. Would it make sense to even just hazard a guess in front of this.. thing?".
"But how is it possible for a human to perform the Chant, or to just gather.."
"And instead, if you bothered to listen, you would have noticed that this supposed human has just added the sixth voice," the archangel interrupted him, punctuating the words as he tried to separate red pomegranate grains from their peel.
"I think we've observed enough, we do not want him to start opening a seal, do we?", he continued, trying to resume his usually compassionate tone, "We have to report about it to Metatron. Stop stalling, let's move".
The old man's eyes suddenly gnawed them, like a blacksmith's hot pincer. Duth did not even have time to finish wondering how a simple homeless had been able to identify them on the subtle plane from which they were watching him.
An Autie Anne's Pretzels van sped in the direction of East Harlem, sprinkling the city with its fragrant trail. For an instant, the driver seemed to have heard a curious song, but he didn't pay too much attention.
My Ending.
Duth didn't notice the push but felt the attack brush by his arm as he stumbled back. "You’re still slow on your feet" the archangel said with some annoyance in his voice. He had pushed Duth out of harm’s way. The old man’s eyes still fixed on them and Duth gathered his wits as he turned to face their foe. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, "You go tell Metatron what you have seen. I will stay here to face him." Duth wanted to protest but he knew the archangel was serious. As he moved away he could hear the hymns that accompanied the archangel’s sword. Also a smell of Pretzels? He wonder as he moved as fast as he could.
The old man never stopped chanting even has his foe approached him. That sword so he is of the archangel class no wonder he was able to see my attack coming. No worries though he clearly doesn't know who I am. Or he would not be coming closer.
The 7th voice it can't be! It's too soon. Yet he could see the seal open and next to the old man and demons started to flow out. Who or what is that thought the angel. As the first wave reached him he started to fight. It had been centuries sense he had done battle like this. But his training had never stopped and he was easily sending the first demons back to the depths yet they kept coming. Keeping him away from the man who was still chanting. As he got closer he could now make out an 8th voice. "It can't be" he said out loud as he started to shine with holy light giving him a break from the battle as the lessor demons backed away from the light. The old man started to smile as his chanting stopped. He had finished and another seal opened. Fear was not something the Archangel had ever felt so he didn't understand it as the next wave stepped out. These Demons were as old as him if not older and they were not supposed to be able to enter this plane. "Have the gates fallen? That isn't possible!" The archangel looked at the old man who started to stand.
"Nothing is impossible in this world you should know that. The time of angels on earth is over. This realm is ours now. It has been for some time you just didn’t know it." He walked towards the angle and his true form started to show. He felt better in his true skin and walked right into the light laughing at the tingle on his skin. "To think this light us to burn us" With on attack he shattered the sword and the archangel was down.
Duth looked around something wasn’t right. There should have been guards here. He couldn't wait for long he had to get help. He knew something big was happening. He rushed towards where Metatron should be and as he entered the area he started to see broken swords and helmets tossed about. There was no signs of angels. A battle had happened. He wondered how. They should not be able to enter here. He ran to the pit and looked down at the gate. It was open wide and he knew all was lost, the end was here. Duth retreated to the heavens knowing that the realm of earth had been lost.
The truck turn around the corner heading back towards the distribution center. "Did you hear another sex scandal at the church" "Ya all the dirty deeds of the church have been coming to light. Why I stopped going" "Ya I can't remember last time I went." "I just don't think people believe that much anymore and I can't blame them.
Duth had seen this coming but others doubted him. He saw the faith fading and felt the strength of their light fading. Yet they all acted like it could never happen. How many made it home he wondered. Well if the humans didn't believe in us they will soon enough. But will there be enough of us left to push back the Devils. He doubted it. He sat for now alone waiting.