Michael's Blood

by S S Bazinet

  Shivering and bent, this Faine gazed back with foggy, dim eyes, eyes glazed over with dread. “My soul was lost many lifetimes before yours fell into darkness.”

  “What happened to you?” Arel blurted out the question, but he knew at once that it was a mistake. His search for answers went too far. It probed too deep into unholy caverns of despair where people died slowly at the hands of heartless humans. It laid open the places where the screams of the innocent, Faine’s screams, went unheard, until now.

  Arel tried to shut out the vision of a blameless boy who was being tortured for being who he was, a bright, loving soul who didn’t know how to hide his light.

  “When they were done with me, there was no light left,” Faine said in a cowering voice.

  Arel moved towards the shadows where Faine stood. He reached out in a gesture of goodwill, hoping to close the gap that had separated them for so long. “I’m so sorry that I forgot you.”

  “Stay away from me!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Stay back!”

  Arel hesitated. He’d had an aversion to human contact too. “I understand, but you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

  “I can’t let anyone touch me again!”

  “It’s alright, I promise. And I promise that if you return to the world as Carol’s child, I’ll always be there for you. I’ll protect you no matter what.”

  “No, go away! My decision is final!”

  “Please, Faine, I know all about fear, but you have to face it sooner or later or you’ll always be its prisoner.”

  Faine threw himself against the wall. “I told you to stay away!”

  Arel moved closer. “I can’t just leave you like this.”

  Faine wasn’t listening. He covered his head with his misshapen hands as if he was trying to ward off the blows of an attacker. “No! I don’t want to be hurt anymore.” His body shook violently as his protests became pleas for mercy. “Please, no more!”

  As the man’s pitiful cries filled the fetid air, details of their friendship were resurrected. Arel remembered how they’d laughed together, how Faine’s smile was so happy, so open. “Faine, we were like brothers. As a brother, I would never hurt you,” he said as he reached out and took hold of Faine’s shoulders.

  “No! Please!”

  Faine’s horrified screams ripped through Arel’s body like a searing wave of misery. His gut twisted with pain, but he had to help the man who’d once been his friend. He held on tighter, pulling Faine into a compassionate embrace. “You’ve been wasting away here forever. This might be my only chance to help you.”

  His actions only made Faine fight harder, like a wounded animal that was being taken from its safe, dark shelter. His inconsolable shrieks became those of the brutalized. They became the screams that Arel remembered when his sister was tied to the stake and was burning. He had to do something.

  I couldn’t help my sister, but I will help this man!

  A trigger instantly went off in his gut. A powerful force was activated, taking on its own life, its own intention to champion those victims who couldn’t defend themselves. It became a swirling “fix-it” vortex, targeting Faine’s agony, the memories stored in his meager flesh, in his broken bones. It sought out the anger and rage that kept him bound, unable to go beyond what people had done to him. It became an unstoppable engine, trying to consume it all.

  As soon as the compelling force was put in motion, Arel regretted it. He’d made a mistake. Whatever he’d initiated was too powerful. He knew that he couldn’t control it.

  What am I doing? What’s going on with me?

  He remembered the church garden and how Michael warned him about his capabilities, how careful he had to be when his emotions got away from him.

  But I only want to help!

  It seemed like a reasonable excuse until he had a moment of acute clarity.

  Michael never forced himself on me. But I’m forcing myself on this poor soul. He’s terrified of me!

  Arel instantly became just as terrified of himself and his power. Faine’s every misery was being sucked into his gut, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He began to relive Faine’s memories, to know the horrors he’d endured. As Arel’s own terror escalated, he cried out. “I’m so sorry!”

  Faine’s wretchedness continued to flood him, fueling a furnace in his gut. He was burning up with an inner fire that would soon consume him too. He had to do something fast. He finally remembered something important.

  Shields! I have to drop my shields. I have to let Michael in.

  Eighty-One

  MICHAEL RUSHED TO Arel’s aid as soon as he realized that there was something wrong. He would have acted sooner, but Arel had made sure that didn’t happen. Knowing Michael’s wishes were not in alignment with his own, Arel had acted in secret, barricading himself behind walls of deceit that kept Michael from finding him. Now those walls had been dissolved. Arel’s needy cries were loud and clear.

  Michael stood over Arel’s bed, shaking him, trying to bring him back from the dream state, trying to break his connection to Faine. “Come back now!” Michael called out.

  Finally, Arel let out a soft moan, the first response he’d made since Michael found him. He was burning up with fever. His body wouldn’t last much longer if he didn’t return to his normal reality. Michael slapped Arel’s cheeks repeatedly, trying to get another response. “Arel, wake up!”

  His efforts finally bore results. Arel’s golden eyes opened wide. He stared at Michael as if he were some horrible demon and started screaming hysterically. “Don’t touch me!”

  Before Michael could calm Arel down, the man became a frenzied creature, fighting for his life. Kicking, lashing out, he landed a hard punch on Michael’s jaw. But Arel’s outburst only lasted a few moments. When his strength gave out, he lay gasping, his fight turning into whimpering pleas for mercy.

  Michael understood what was happening. Arel was overwhelmed with Faine’s energy. He’d taken on too much of Faine’s pain. Michael had to do something to stop the process and the fever. He had to get Arel into the shower as quickly as possible. Luckily the energy from the dream dimension was still in a contained state. The unlucky part was that it was still a very real danger. Arel had managed to bridge the gap between two dimensions, to deluge his physical body with Faine’s negativity. To make matters worse, his own vestiges of paranoia and his tendency to see himself as the victim were being revived, fueled by Faine’s similar energies.

  “Arel, look at me!” Michael demanded as he tried to hold Arel upright in the shower. “Look at me now! We don’t have much time.”

  Michael’s warning was based on what he observed. Arel’s destructive energy, the energy that destroyed the garden, was turned inward. Now, raw, muddied fear was threatening to destroy Arel’s body. It wouldn’t be long before the volatile nature of the energy reached a lethal stage.

  Michael turned on the cold tap full force, allowing a blast of icy water to hit Arel directly in the face. Arel moaned again, then breathed in some of the liquid and started coughing. As he sputtered reflexively, he began to regain a small measure of himself. His eyes came in line with Michael’s. After a moment, they sparked with recognition.

  “Michael . . . my head . . . I think it’s going to explode.”

  “It’s not just your head that’s in danger.”

  The seething mass that Arel harbored was still expanding. Physical bodies weren’t made to handle that kind of energy. It was capable of igniting and incinerating flesh if it escalated further. Every second counted.

  Arel lifted his gaze. “So hot—”

  “Let go of Faine’s energy! Let go of it now!” Michael ordered.

  Arel’s eyes flared bright with guilt and sorrow. “I tried to help him,” he groaned. “I didn’t want to abandon him to that god forsaken place.”

  “I know, but you have to focus. You have to take control of what’s going on inside of you.”

  “I don’t kno
w how!”

  “You’re still trying to be Faine’s savior. But your power isn’t there for you to play God. You’re doing more damage than good. Try to understand that! Tell that part of yourself to let go.”

  Arel swayed, blinking back with beseeching eyes. “I never wanted to hurt him. But he’s in so much pain.”

  Michael pulled Arel tight to his breast, trying to sooth away some of Arel’s heartache, trying to draw off the waves of heat radiating from his body. “I know, my dear friend, but you’re killing yourself, and it won’t help Faine. There are some things a person has to do for himself. Faine has to believe in himself again. You can’t do that for him.”

  Arel seemed to finally understand, and he began to weep. As he began to release Faine’s energy, great racking sobs of grief poured out of him. “Will he be alright? Will you help him?”

  “I promise that if he allows it, he’ll get our help, our love, our support. It’s been there for him all along.”

  Arel stared up with repentant eyes. “I’ve screwed up everything, haven’t I? I should never have interfered, but—”

  “You wanted to help Carol and Kevin.”

  “I thought I knew best until I met that poor soul. If I could go back, maybe apologize again—”

  “No!” Michael held up his hand.

  Arel looked away. “I’m sorry. That must sound so ridiculous.”

  Michael took hold of Arel’s arm and helped him out of the shower. “You need to rest, to let go of everything that you’ve taken on. You’ll feel better.”

  “I don’t deserve to feel better,” Arel snapped back, but the effort of getting angry was too much for him, and he faltered.

  Michael steadied him. “So you want to go on suffering? Do you think that’s going to help?”

  “I guess that’s what I’ve done forever, isn’t it? I’ve been stuck like Faine, only in my case, I’ve suffered with guilt.”

  “Not forever. You turned things around, and your world got better, and you wanted to keep it that way.”

  “That’s right, I did. That’s how I got into this mess. I wanted things to work out with the baby. Now, I’ve failed miserably on all counts.”

  * * * * *

  After Michael helped him back to bed, Arel couldn’t sleep. He kept going over what had happened. While he was in the shower, clinging to Michael, he’d felt like all his progress was going down the drain. When was he going to learn not to be so irresponsible? He’d traumatized Faine, nearly killed himself, and he didn’t help Carol’s baby. They were the acts of a maniac or an idiot. Either way, he couldn’t forgive himself. He could still hear Faine screaming, begging Arel to leave him alone. The man’s pleas were so helpless, so filled with dread. And Arel was responsible for the man’s utter wretchedness. There was no way he could simply forgive himself. That well-worn rut of guilt that he knew so well was pulling him in again. He needed punishment, some way to atone for his actions.

  He glanced over at Michael. His devoted helper was sitting in a chair in the corner, keeping watch. Michael didn’t believe in the merits of guilt. But that was because he never did anything wrong. He didn’t know what Arel knew, that guilt could sometimes be a comfort.

  Hell and damnation, I can’t help it. I have to hate myself a little!

  He threw up his shields, did several rounds of cursing himself out, and let his shields drop again.

  Michael put down his book. “Are you having a hard time sleeping?”

  He gave the angel an irritated scowl. “Don’t you realize that repentance is good for the soul?” He pounded his chest. “I need to—”

  Michael finished his thought. “You need to curse yourself out some more?”

  “How do you know I’m doing that?”

  “Shields or no, your patterns are predictable.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Could I offer a few thoughts?”

  Arel pushed himself up into a sitting position. His fever was almost gone, and his strength was slowly coming back. “Yes, I suppose, as long as it doesn’t give me even fewer options in backsliding.”

  “Do you still want Faine to incarnate?”

  “Are you kidding? I keep seeing him fighting me with those feeble, crippled hands. He makes me realize that I wasn’t as bad off as I thought.” He glanced up at Michael. “I should have listened to you. Each soul has a right to choose its path.”

  “So you’re saying that you’re giving up judgment?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Including judging yourself?”

  “I have to feel remorse after what I did to Faine. I don’t know how long it’ll be before he recovers from my bumbling intervention.”

  “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t learn from your mistakes. But afterwards, it’s better to move on.”

  “I’m not going to win an argument with you, am I?”

  “I’m not here to argue, you know that.”

  Arel paused and looked at his knuckles. They were bruised and painful. “I wonder how this happened.”

  Michael rubbed his jaw. “If you insist on finding more things to lament about, I would appreciate an apology for that punch you gave me.”

  Arel’s face was just returning to its normal color. Now it flushed with embarrassment. “I hit you?”

  “You didn’t mean to, but you did land a good one when you thought I was the enemy.”

  Arel stiffened. “How do you do it? How do you take everything so calmly, never letting anything upset you? What are angels anyway, God’s robots?”

  Michael stared back for a long moment. “No, we’re not.”

  Michael’s tone was soft, but there was a sadness there, almost like Faine’s sadness at being forgotten. If Arel needed another reason for remorse, he had one now.

  Oh hell, I’m being insensitive with Michael again.

  Michael retrieved his book from the side table and stood up. “If you’ll excuse me—”

  Arel jerked upright and held his head, struggling to focus as the room spun around. “Michael, wait. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say things like that to you.”

  Michael didn’t look at him. Instead, he continued walking towards the door. The angel wasn’t letting go of Arel’s indiscretion as easily as usual.

  Oh hell, I’ve gone too far this time.

  Arel threw off his cover, stood up, and held on to the nightstand. “Michael, please. What do you want from me?”

  Michael stopped and turned. His blue eyes were darker than usual and very direct. “I almost lost you tonight. Do you think that doesn’t concern me?”

  Arel took a deep breath and let himself remember Michael’s quick intervention on his behalf. Michael’s face was so concerned when he tried to come to Arel’s aid. The angel wasn’t robotic. He was the exact opposite. No friend, no brother, no parent could have been more caring or protective when Arel needed someone. It was always like that when he was in trouble. “Forgive me,” he said as he made his way over to where Michael was standing. “Even if you don’t believe in judgment, forgive me for everything, please.”

  He needed to be penitent. He’d grovel if he had to. Groveling like repentance was also good for the soul. He was sure of it. “I’m sorry that I’ve ignored your feelings. You’ve been so much more than a friend. Hell, you’re like the father I always wanted. You have to believe that.” He put his hand to Michael’s bruised jaw. “And I’m sorry about acting like a maniac.”

  Michael finally brightened. “Apology accepted.”

  Arel nodded and let his hand drop to his side. “From now on, I’ll be careful, and I’ll do my best to make better decisions.”

  “That would be wise.”

  “I’m turning over a new leaf, no more missions on my own. And I’ll also do my best to help Carol and Kevin with whatever happens.”

  Michael’s eyes returned to their beautiful, sky-blue color. “I have good news. Another soul is taking Faine’s place. Carol’s child is safe.”

  Eighty-Two
>
  THE BIG DAY finally arrived. Peggy and Tim were moving into their new home. In a few hours, they’d be Arel’s official neighbors. He was anxious to help, to be a part of the move. It was a new experience for him, but he was sure he was up to it. After all his jogging and working out, his body was in great shape. He’d never felt so strong and fit. Michael had volunteered to help out too. They both stood in Peggy’s kitchen awaiting orders. When he saw a number of cartons sitting in the corner, he wanted to get started. “Peggy, do you want us to take this stuff out to the truck?” he asked.

  Peggy was busy removing an assortment of items from the deep interior of a hall closet. She backed out and stared in Arel’s direction. “That would be great. But remember, they’re pretty heavy. Some boxes have china, iron skillets, that type of thing.”

  Arel bent down to lift a moderately sized box. “No problem. We’ll have them out in a jiffy,” he said as he eased the box off of the floor.

  “Not with your back, Arel!” Peggy shrieked.

  Her piercing screech made Arel jump backwards and lose his balance. It was like the hospital cafeteria all over again. This time Michael was behind him and reached out in time to stop his fall.

  Peggy shook her head. “This is why I worry. You aren’t being careful enough.”

  Clutching at the box, Arel gave her a weak smile as he steadied his nerves. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  Peggy gave him a stern look and went back to her closet chores.

  Arel set his box on the table and mopped his forehead. “She’s got a good set of lungs,” he whispered to Michael.

  “Yes, indeed.” Michael looked impressed too. Following Peggy’s advice, he began to lift a large box using the correct method, the “Peggy” method.

  Arel grinned. For a change, Michael looked ill at ease. “I know you’ve probably attended countless weddings, but how many times have you been part of a moving team?”

  Michael took a moment to balance the box he’d chosen to lift. “I’ve never done anything quite like this, but it’s actually rather rewarding. I enjoy using my body this way.”