Ariel cocked her head to the side. End of the world? Confusion filled her mind.
“It’s a cliché topic, really. Is the world ending? How will it end? Is The Walking Dead going to be real? Or will it be at the hands of vengeful Mother Nature? Honestly, before this week, I’d always assumed it would be zombies and shit. I mean, big-pocketed and bored people pay geniuses of this world to create things that weren’t meant to be made, just so they can play God. Humans are so afraid of things like Frankenstein’s monster, but then we start creating our own. It’s one of humanity’s greatest hypocrisies, if you think about it.
“And speaking of Frankenstein, I honestly think that story has more depth than we assume. No, let me correct that. I think Mary Shelley was actually spot on when she wrote that novel. Man becomes greedy for knowledge. Man plays God by creating a creature from the body parts of many, rather than just creating it in the more enjoyable way. Man creates a monster but doesn’t want it anymore and abandons it. Monster seeks revenge for being rejected and makes man’s life hell by killing everyone he loves. Honestly, I think humanity in itself is on the wrong track. Somehow, all this technology, all this science and discovery and whatnots will be the doom of us. We’ve seen that being played out in movies, haven’t we? Why aren’t we still learning the lesson then?”
Maxwell laughed, but the laugh was humorless. Rather, it was manic, like a man laughing at his own impending demise. “We have had a track record of creating our own monsters, actually. This day alone, I’ve uncovered many incidents caused by people who wanted to accomplish something but ended up causing chaos instead. We don’t realize that such actions like pathetic wars and inventing things you may think are convenient now will be our very own Frankenstein’s monster. I know that because I’ve seen it.”
He paused again, giving Ariel a moment to think about what he’d said. She wasn’t certain what he was aiming for in his message. Perhaps he was trying to convince his listeners how their past actions had been destructive and that they should change before God arrived. If this was the case, Ariel had no qualms in it. However, something about the change in Maxwell’s mood alarmed her.
“I am a speaker of truth. I speak about things as I see them, without any bias whatsoever. And I am not a religious nut either. Having said that, I have been experiencing things that I would not have believed if I heard somebody else say it,” Maxwell said to the device. “I guess it’s safe to say that most, if not all, of us are familiar with prophecies. Pop culture tends to use prophecies as an excuse to plot, right? We always hear about those ‘Chosen One’ types. And then, you don’t really have to be a devoted Christian to know that the Bible has prophets and, therefore, prophecies. But does that happen in our modern world of Twitter and Facebook? Do we need prophecies now that the internet is full of it?
“Maybe. Maybe we do need prophecies. But not about the Chosen One and crap like that. We’ve seen all sorts of prophecies about the end of the world, right? The Mayan prophecy didn’t really pan out, and neither did Nostradamus’ prophecies, although you can twist his words and make them seem real. Regardless, the end is still gonna happen. It’s inevitable, there’s no denying that. The question is still, and always will be until it happens, when and how? Who will pull the trigger? Who will push the button? And why in God’s name am I talking about this?”
He laughed again, quite bitterly this time. “Like I said, I am a speaker of truth. And I am going to be honest when I say that I have been experiencing odd things. The past few nights, I’ve been seeing things in my sleep. I don’t want to believe them, but after thinking logically and researching the best that I can, I have concluded the things I’ve been dreaming of are not just in my imagination. They are warnings. And here I am, warning all of you. If what I’ve seen is the truth, which I believe it is, then us, humans, will be causing our own end. And it will be soon.”
Ariel’s eyes widened in shock at Maxwell’s words. He began to speak of the disasters he’d been studying earlier, linking them to the warning signs of the apocalypse. Maxwell went on about saying how humanity was deserving of the upcoming end; that the sins of man would be returned to them tenfold.
Ariel couldn’t understand how he had come to such thinking. She resorted to entering his mind to see. Ariel took a step back and folded her wings around her. She released her spirit and her disembodied form entered the home. But when she reached out to Maxwell’s mind, something stopped her again. Alarmed, Ariel tried once more, but something was blocking her from entering Maxwell’s mind. She returned to her physical form.
She was powerless. She couldn’t infiltrate Maxwell’s mind, and she couldn’t influence him as much as she wanted to while he was conscious. Ariel watched as Maxwell readied his latest recording and uploaded it to their world wide web. She prayed that the masses would take this message lightly. She feared how sensitive humans can be to things such as these that the smallest nudge might drive them into chaos.
I can’t do anything about him now, Ariel concluded. Instead, she spread her wings and flew across the city, listening to how the message was being received by the listeners. Technology was not on her side. In a matter of minutes, countless humans across the state had downloaded and heard Maxwell’s speech. She tried to listen to their thoughts, if Maxwell’s rants had been enough to trouble them.
They had.
Ariel felt the cumulating paranoia amongst the humans. She could not enter their minds, but their energies were growing strong with a fear that she could see mixing with the night sky. Thoughts of death and grief and regret filled their minds. Maxwell’s usage of real events had been successful in convincing his listeners to believe that he had become the prophet for the apocalypse. Heaven had chosen the right man to deliver their message; however, the message Maxwell had delivered was not the one Ariel had intended for him.
What did you do, Maxwell? Ariel questioned in her mind. She settled herself on the top of a building. She held her palms together and folded her wings to embrace her. Ariel prayed. She sought Heaven’s assistance for the situation in this city. Daniel had mentioned to her how Maxwell’s show was not only popular in this state but across the country as well. Seeing the state of this city alone, she wondered how much damage it had caused to the rest of the world.
And so, she prayed. She begged for forgiveness for failing her duty, and she begged for guidance on how to resolve the matter at hand. But her prayers were met with silence. Ariel waited, but no word from Heaven came to her. She had no further options. I must return to Heaven. She concluded, to seek for the guidance of the archangel, Raphael.
In his temple in Heaven, Raphael watched the events unfold in the city below. The influence of one man was like one push on a domino. One fell, and the rest fell behind. He looked over to his shoulder, glancing at Michael who stood near the gates. He was confident that His decision was sound. Everything will fall into place, Raphael assured himself. All in due time.
The presence of the angel guarding his gates spoke, pulling his attention from his thoughts. “The angel, Ariel, wishes to have a word with you.”
“As she wishes,” Raphael allowed, and the angel opened the gates to let Ariel in. The dark-haired angel marched inside with urgency. Her eyes were serious and her brows were curved with worry.
Ariel paid her respect to the archangel before speaking her concern. “There has been an unprecedented occurrence with the prophet.”
“I am aware,” Raphael confirmed to her. This took the angel by surprise.
“I- I don’t understand. The message that he delivered—” she stammered.
“If this is the will of God, we should not question it,” Raphael told her. “Perhaps this is how He wishes to let the humans know of his return. It is not unknown that the humans have strayed away from the path of our Lord.”
“But—” Ariel begun, but halted her words. She feared once again that her questions may lead to the suspicion that she was disobeying Heaven. That was something she couldn�
��t afford. Instead, she asked, “What do you wish me to do?”
“Return to Earth at once,” Raphael ordered her. “You still have the task of guarding our prophet. And right now, his life is in danger.”
Ariel was alarmed. “What do you mean?”
“It’s best for you to witness for yourself,” Raphael told her. “Hurry, before you are too late.”
She excused herself to return to Earth. Her mind was filled with far too many questions, but she was in no position to make such queries. I can only follow orders. And my orders at the moment were to remain the guard of Maxwell Saunders.
She descended back to Earth in a hurry, immediately going to the apartment of the prophet. Maxwell’s prophecy had stirred many emotions in his listeners, although Ariel could not imagine one of them harming the man for such a claim. She peered inside the window of the prophet; he sat in front of his desk, much like how she left him earlier.
What did Raphael mean about his life being in danger? Ariel wondered. Perhaps the demon would visit him again. Ariel looked around for any trace of demonic energy within the vicinity, but apart from the negative energy of the other humans and angelic energy that could have only belonged to her, she did not sense anything.
Perhaps my presence has driven away whatever had intended to harm him, Ariel convinced herself. But there was something odd about how the prophet sat on the computer chair. His shoulders were slumped and his head was hung low. His arm dangled at his side with fingers relaxed. Has he fallen asleep yet again? She wanted to take a closer look but feared that coming in close contact with the prophet might disrupt him.
Still, she couldn’t shake the suspicion. Ariel backed away from the window and sent her spirit inside the residence. The bright light from the man’s computer blurred her sight, but she pushed on to get a better look at the prophet. When she reached him, she felt the cold shiver despite being disembodied.
Blood trickled from the side of his face. In his hand was a .45 caliber gun. Ariel stared in shock as the realization dawned on her. The prophet, Maxwell Saunders, was dead.
The news of his death spread like wildfire amongst the humans as well as the angels. Daniel stepped inside Raphael’s throne chamber, looking distraught. His face told of the troubled thoughts, but he did not speak of them. Instead, he approached Raphael, who welcomed him.
“How was the task, Daniel?” Raphael asked him.
Daniel looked up to the archangel, suppressing the answers he wished to speak. His previous task was a strange one, and until now, even after he had done the deed, he still had his doubts. “I have accomplished your request.”
“Very well,” Raphael said. “Keep an eye on the other one for now, then. I will call upon you when I require your services once again.”
“With pleasure.” Daniel nodded, taking a glance at his sullied hands. He returned to Earth to witness the chaos that his hand had created.
Chapter Eight: Alone in War
Chaos was brewing in the land of mortal men, and it was a joy to witness, at least to a certain demon, who had made what entertains him his business. Caelum stood atop the tower of the local television network where, as he had coordinated it, the morning news reporter glamorized the death of John Maxwell Saunders as a sign of the prophet’s authenticity. Fortunately for them, Maxwell had a suicide recording which he’d uploaded mere minutes before putting a bullet through his head. The last message of the infamous podcast host was a warning to humanity about the rage of God Himself.
Negative energies began to amass all across the cities. It was such a funny thing how the speech of one man could cause such calamity. And it had been so easy. Caelum smiled to himself.
“Enjoying the view?” a voice behind him asked. Caelum turned to see the ever-diligent demon, Baron, holding his handy notebook at his side.
“A reward so soon?” Caelum smiled to the demon.
“Yes,” Baron confirmed. “Azazel is pleased with your work with the prophet."
"What, did you expect anything else from me?" Caelum boasted.
Baron ignored his comment, however. "Have you been sensing odd things around this world, Caelum?"
The mood shifted with one question. Caelum frowned at him and said, "You mean besides the beauties falling from the skies?"
Baron looked at him, unamused. “There have been unusual activities amongst the monsters of this land. They have become more active than before, even forming in large groups.”
“Really?” Caelum raised a brow. “And what interest does Hell have if a bunch of monsters create their own fraternities?”
“Not much,” Baron said in a bored tone. “Carry on with your days, Caelum. There will come a time that the Lord of Demons will require your assistance once again. Best be prepared when the time comes. It may be sooner rather than later.”
Caelum sighed. “Azazel loves to whip his dogs, doesn’t he? I just hope the bone he throws at us will be worth it.”
“Ah. You have my word that it will be,” Baron said. He tilted his head to bow at him and he stepped into the shadow between metal frames. The demon entered the darkness, and Caelum was left alone with his own thoughts.
Hmm… something big must really be brewing, Caelum pondered. Though he hadn’t been involving himself with the hybrids of the mortal land, he knew them to be wild and scattered. For them to gather together may mean nothing at all. But with the odd turn of events as of late, Caelum had to give them the benefit of the doubt. Things might turn interesting after all.
Stepping out on the ledge, Caelum let gravity take over. He fell into the shadows and immediately landed on busy Madison Street. It was roughly eight in the morning, and people were abuzz after last night's events and this morning's breaking news. Caelum walked amongst the humans, listening to their thoughts about Maxwell, adding salt to their wounds with a flick of his hand. People’s paranoia ran amok as he added his thoughts to theirs. Causing a mass panic was just as easy as it was fun for him.
While reading and polluting the minds of strangers, he learned that a few other conspiracists had jumped on the bandwagon and added their two cents about this so-called end of the world. He couldn't stop the smile from growing on his lips as he basked in the unrest that was piling up. With just one push, everything falls apart.
In the span of a few hours, computer geeks who imagined themselves as vigilantes like the Caped Crusader began to peer inside government activities and made mountains out of molehills. Reading in between the lines of political disputes and negotiations, pointing fingers at which of them will trigger the next war that could cause the end of humanity. People who used to see them as pathetic wannabes began to listen and consider their claims. And Caelum laughed at their wild imaginations.
He turned a corner and saw the apartment building where the late podcast host resided. It was flocked with a crowd of angry and confused listeners, demanding for the truth about the man’s death. The caretaker of the building entertained the crowd, probably enjoying the new attention being given to their establishment. And death becomes business.
Caelum turned around to cross the street but halted in place when he saw a figure standing in the shadows. A man in a gray sweater and beige coat watched the scene in front of the building. But it wasn't the interest in his eyes and his devious smile that caught Caelum's interest. It was his face.
The man looked exactly like John Maxwell Saunders.
The man shifted his position and turned away from the crowd. He walked further down the street, keeping his head low, not noticing the demon following him. Caelum was interested in this discovery. Does Maxwell have a twin? Or perhaps... he wondered.
He kept a certain distance from the man to keep him from sensing his energy in case it was a powerful being. Caelum had a good eye, using it study the being’s actions from afar. It seemed to be walking aimlessly, touring the streets of Chicago, not interacting with anyone at all. Caelum questioned what the presence of this man could mean, but studying its actions was not e
nough to give Caelum's answers. And so he took the risk of closing the distance between them.
With long and quick strides, Caelum approached the man and bumped into his shoulder. He muttered an apology without looking back, walking ahead of him with brows curled. He did not read anything from the man as if it did not have a past. Strange indeed, Caelum thought as he turned a corner. He leaned against the wall of a barber shop and let the man pass by him. The man didn't take notice of him at all as he crossed the street. Caelum removed himself from the wall and followed suit, a smile forming on his lips.
I wonder why a monster is copying the dead prophet. Caelum intended to uncover the answer himself, seeing that the topic was becoming more interesting to him.
The issue with the dead prophet had become more intriguing as of late, snatching the attention of humans, demons, monsters, and angels alike. Ariel got lost in a sea of wild tides that pushed against each other and created waves, growing larger at each push.
It had been her duty to deliver the message to the prophet. But he had delivered the wrong one to the people. It was her duty to protect him. But now, he’s lying in a stainless steel tray in a room surrounded by his fellow dead. She had failed both missions. How can I face Heaven now? she asked herself. After centuries of imprisonment for her past crime, Ariel had been given this opportunity to redeem herself in time for the return of God. But she had failed.
Despite her failure and shame, she had returned to Heaven. Ariel wasn't certain if she would be welcomed or if she would be caged once again. But she couldn't turn her back on Heaven, no matter what her condition is. This was her only home, after all.
The unrest caused by the false prophecy reached Heaven, and she walked amongst the angels whom she sensed to be in a state of confusion due to what happened. Ariel headed to Raphael's chambers with her head low and her steps slow. Angels didn't whisper like humans, but Ariel could sense the energies that flowed around, and it was enough for her to know what they felt about her failure and return.
The Damned and The Pure Series: Books 1-4 (The Damned and The Pure Series Box Set) Page 8
