Saint and snakes (3)

   
   "Saints and snakes (3)"
   
   McKelvy was collectively in tune with being an assiduous soul--all for his fabulous fidus Achates known as the Holy Trinity, One God; moreover, supported easily (upon his invocation) with an army of Arch-Angels at his side, knowing their power of potent physics, able to superposition their "essences" as the Good Doctor, Saint Thomas Aquinas mentioned they possessed; regardless, he would handle it himself, using the coyote's scent to relentlessly track the deadly demon off of Santa Monica Boulevard, oppressing a child raging internally, fueled by the autistic spectrum of a hidden rainbow beneath--a promise of power from the Otherworld, not a crutch, but an opossum's Totem energy, playing into the quicksand of death, yet resurrected, or ready to fight with fanged fury--if it came to that.
   McKelvy, neither man nor woman, was crafted by divine camouflage, hiding his/her ivory-blade within a trench coat's blue fabric, using his cane of cards, as gravity and determination of the damned thieved away a bit of his dexterity, yet once the ivory-blade's gemstone-crafted hilt was within his firm and true grip, having a pommel of eternal promises, the life of Arch-Angels promoted him to a state of higher constitution, an unearthly endurance to deal with those damning others, as the autistic boy was oblivious his therapy dog had been murdered by cyanide from a toxic peach pit:  first, dilated pupils; next, excessive salivation; furthermore, dizzy spells until fainting graveways.
  The peach pit was not a piquant treat offered by magnanimous hands, yet deadly contagion given by a greedy gamin having his pineal gland calcified by over-processed food and tapped into by the diabolical infusion of demons.
   McKelvy would pay the demon a visit, unsheathe his unsullied blade, gleaming like a tower of ivory, and into the soul of the hellbent, knowing:  reptiles strike out of jealousy, being envious and never wise, dooming themselves as God has determined.