What has Heaven become? The question was always foremost in his mind.
Daniel continued his journey, searching for the guards’ positions so as to avoid them. His dark eyes carefully scanned the area, seeing two angels posted at the other end of the hallway. He calculated the distance between the pillars that stood before the prisons, marked by the seals that imprisoned the rebellious angels. The one he wanted was two pillars away from the guards, and it was truly a risk to near it.
I cannot turn back now, Daniel told himself. He procured a small, bone white flute from his jacked and nestled it in his palm. A gift from Raphael should he have failed his previous mission and needed an escape. He hadn’t had a use for it, and his confidence lessened as the flute’s potency may have ebbed with disuse. Burying his hesitation, Daniel placed the flute against his lips and began to play.
The nearly inaudible melody reached the ears of all who were present in the room. Although undetectable to their hearing, the effect in their minds was immediately evident. Daniel completed the spell and hid the flute inside his jacket again, peeking around the corner at the guards.
The sentinels stood steady like statues on guard. Daniel watched them as he slowly moved toward them, waiting for any form of recognition from either of them. He took another step forward, completely revealing himself to the guards; still no reaction.
It worked, Daniel confirmed. Taking silent steps, he moved to visit the angel he sought. He found her resting on her knees, palms cupped on her lap. Her eyes were closed and her face was peaceful.
“Azrael,” Daniel whispered. The angel slowly opened her crimson eyes, searching for her visitor. She is also affected by the spell, Daniel reminded himself.
“I know you are there,” Azrael said in a quiet voice. She closed her eyes again and continued, “I may not see your physical form, but I see your soul.”
“As I expected,” Daniel said.
“I heard about what happened,” Azrael announced to him. “I know he is here.”
“As you warned me,” Daniel admitted, mournfully. “I was at fault before. I see now what you and our brother have been trying to reveal. I regret my actions.”
“And you wish to redeem yourself,” Azrael stated.
Daniel looked down at his feet. “Yes. I fear what the archangels may do to our home and to our Father.”
The Angel of Death remained silent. With her eyes closed and her breathing calm, Daniel couldn’t help but imagine that she had turned to stone. His eyes studied the angel’s condition, the chains around her wrists and her ankles causing her discomfort. But there was something different from when he last visited her. Azrael, though imprisoned, still exuded power. She was no archangel, but God had entrusted her with the responsibility of keeping the balance between the worlds, granting her power nearly as strong as the first ones.
When Azrael finally opened her eyes, Daniel pulled himself out of his own thoughts. “I cannot do anything about the archangels at the moment,” Azrael told him. “I am a prisoner, and I have no control over them. But I do have something to request of you.”
“A request?” Daniel asked.
“Lucifer’s rise did not only affect us here in Heaven,” Azrael began. “The bridge he created has caused such panic amongst the mortals below, and it caused the collapse of Hell.”
“Collapse? Hell is falling?”
“Yes. Until we learn what the archangels intend to do, we cannot make a move. However, I wish to spare as many of God’s creations as I can until that day comes. And with the struggles in Hell, I fear that the balance of the souls and the worlds will come undone.”
“You are asking me to save Hell?” Daniel said in mild displeasure.
“Yes, Daniel. And I am not requesting this to save our natural enemies. I am requesting this to protect what God asked me to,” Azrael said, her eyes determined. “The worlds were created with their own purpose; Heaven, Hell, Earth, and Purgatory. All of us are part of the system God created to function even without His hand. To remove one – any one of them – would destroy the flow of life amongst all of us. The situation in Hell is already gravely affecting the mortals. With the souls escaping from the pit, lesser souls are used to create new life. And what will happen to us all if we can no longer create life?”
Daniel pursed his lips. Listening to Azrael, he knew what she said was true. And Daniel was a follower; he’d sought guidance from the one angel he believed to still be fighting for God’s return. The task may not be one he wished for himself, but it was one he could do to right his mistakes. “I—”
“Daniel!” Azrael suddenly spoke his name; she now stared directly at him. Scuffling of feet from the side pulled his attention away from her. He quickly unsheathed his blade to deflect the guard coming towards him.
The spell’s power ceased too quickly! Daniel shouted in his mind. He pushed away the angel that swung a sword at him. He wheeled around, placing his own blade over his head then brought it down on the angel who blocked it with his own blade. Daniel pushed down on the blade, battling against the strength of his brother. Soon, voices from beyond the door reached his ears. He could fight one but several would bring him down.
Daniel released his force on the blade, then sent a foot against the angel’s chest, forcing him against a pillar. Daniel slashed his blade vertically, marking the angel’s torso with a straight line. He screamed in pain as Daniel turned his back to face the Angel of Death again.
“Let me take you!” Daniel offered.
“No, you do not have the time.” She reached her hand as far as she could and touched Daniel’s palm. Power glowed crimson between their palms, and Daniel felt something warm and powerful placed in his hand. “Take this and look for him. He will need it,” Azrael told him. When she released his hand, he stared at the skin as a shape marked it. The shape was similar to a bird’s feather. Daniel watched as the black mark slowly dissolved into his skin.
“Who?” Daniel asked in his confusion.
“He lives,” Azrael whispered to him. “And they must not discover that. Not yet. He is weak, and he is in danger. A soul that cannot be contained by its own body will fade and cease to exist. Completely.”
“What?” Daniel wanted to ask more, but the doors flew open, revealing an army of angels ready to take his head.
“Go!” Azrael commanded him. He looked to the angel once more then rushed away in the other direction.
Daniel was outnumbered, but unlike them, he had expected this situation and had equipped himself of the necessary items. He ran across the prison, seeing the other angels that were sentenced by the archangels for their so-called crimes lift themselves from their cages. Confusion was in their eyes as well as hope. Daniel was invigorated to do what was necessary even more.
He reached the bright white wall at the end of the prison, dodging flames and blades that were thrown at him. He pulled three emerald stones from his pocket and threw them at the wall. They set themselves in a triangle, and David jumped into the center, passing through the wall as if it was made of air. He stumbled onto the ground, rolling back to his feet to see others watching him. Their moment of confusion was in his favor as he sprinted out of their reach, faster and faster until his feet left the ground, and he flew.
Flying while in Heaven was something uncommon to the angels. But Daniel was fleeing lest he be caught and imprisoned. Behind him were angels sent by the archangels to stop him, carrying weapons that suggested the order did not include having him brought in alive.
Daniel soared above his brothers and sisters who gazed at him in wonder. But none of them stopped him despite the fact that he was being chased by the sentinels. He caught a glimpse of one archangel who wasn’t hiding behind the doors of the tower. She stood in front of the golden gate, her face stern and unreadable.
Gabriel watched Daniel near her, but she neither drew her weapon nor commanded him to stop. Instead, as he neared the gate, she took one step to the side rather than block his exit. Daniel reac
hed the gates and past the archangel, giving a small nod to her as she watched him escape into the world below.
The report came to Michael mere seconds before the angel had flown through the gates unheeded. Standing tall amongst his brothers, Michael studied the sentinels who had failed in their duty to catch the rebel.
“Such a shame,” Raphael mused. “He was a useful servant.”
“There is no shame in discovering which ones are truly faithful,” Lucifer said with confidence. “And which ones should be cast out.” He looked to Michael whose mind was running frantically.
Order was slipping from their hands. Despite announcing that the highest seat of power must be bestowed to the first angel, Lucifer, it was still Michael’s responsibility to keep all the angels in check. The burden was still his so it was under his watch that an angel had escaped after making contact with a prisoner.
“Has she spoken?” Michael inquired.
“The Angel of Death has not breathed a word to us even with the pressure we’ve put her under.”
“She is a strong one,” Lucifer commented with a smile on his face.
Michael glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. He turned back to the angel who bowed before them, a decision made in his mind. “Close the gates.”
The angel looked up to him in confusion. “My lord?”
“Must I repeat my command?” Michael challenged the angel who shook his head frantically.
“No, my lord. I shall extend your order now.” The angel bowed his head again and slowly inched away from them, removing himself from the archangels’ presence.
When the doors were closed, Lucifer turned to Michael. “Is that your means to contain them? I hardly believe it will do any good.”
“With the gates closed, our ties with the worlds below will be cut off,” Raphael pointed out.
“And for what purpose must we have ties with them?” Michael asked. “We are in the process of something grand; I wish not to be disturbed by lower beings.”
Lucifer laughed. “And you believe that closing the doors will grant us immunity? My dear brother, please do not let your judgment be clouded by pride.”
“And what do you propose to have done?” Michael challenged him.
Lucifer’s smile only grew wider. He placed a hand thoughtfully on his chin. “I must say I prefer to cut an enemy down before they pose a threat.” His eyes went over to Raphael and Uriel who had kept his silence throughout the conversation. “Might I suggest we do as such?”
Michael followed Lucifer’s gaze. Raphael and Uriel rose to their feet, ready for any command he spoke. “Indeed, that would be wise.” The archangel took a step towards his brothers, looking at them: Raphael, who he had trusted to watch over their home, and Uriel, the one who punished those who strayed from the correct path.
“Descend into the mortal land and seek all those who may stand in our way, be they mortals or our brothers. Strike them down before they can make a move.” As Michael spoke the order, another thought came to him. “Seek the angel who rebelled against us, and seek the one who calls himself the Scribe of God.”
“The Scribe?” Lucifer eyed his brother with humor. “Ah, eradicating any who may stand in our way, indeed.”
“It will be our utmost pleasure, brother.” Raphael smiled while Uriel gave a curt nod, accepting the task to hunt down the enemies on Earth.
The news of the global panic amongst the mortals was already known to them, yet being in the presence of chaos still surprised the trio. Mikaela, Caelum, and Ariel had left the home of the Tenneys and plunged themselves into the crowds of humans in the city of Burlington. The citizens of the large city were troubled by the recent events. The prophet who had committed suicide, the light in Nevada, and now the activity of the monsters who openly attacked mortals; all had pushed humanity to the brink of breaking itself apart.
And now, they stood in the middle of the streets, witnessing the events with their own eyes. People carried signs, telling their countrymen to repent their sins as the end was nearing. Citizens attacked those who warned them, calling them the minions of the devil who only mean to strike fear in their hearts. A riot was brewing as men and women struggled against each other; those who had accepted their fates versus those who wished to deny everything they’d seen. The officials got involved, breaking riots and issuing a state of national emergency.
Mikaela urged her companions to take shelter in an alleyway between a rundown apartment building and a diner. Wearing hoods to cover their faces, they kept their heads low so as not to attract unwanted attention. The late afternoon sun cast shadows on them once they entered the alley, giving them the comfort of being hidden.
“What has the world become?” Ariel said with a deep frown. She looked across the street at the end of the alley, seeing men in uniform equipped with stun guns and tear gas launchers to subdue the citizens who struggle against the law.
“That’s what you get when you know the world is ending,” Mikaela said. “Either you accept your fate or turn a blind eye. Predictable, if you ask me.”
Caelum scratched the back of his neck; clearly uncomfortable in the clothes he’d been given. “Now that we are safely hidden, shall we continue?”
Mikaela rolled her eyes. She turned her back to them and spoke a spell. From behind the junk that littered the alley came the feline residents of the city streets. Three cats made their way to the witch, and Mikaela kneeled to meet them.
Caelum watched his daughter talk to the cats. It was not as odd as one would think, being that a witch relied on animals for many tasks. Mikaela preferred cats over others. “We shall not be moving forward at a proper pace if we rely on humans and cats alone, though,” he said, turning to Ariel. His complaints stopped at the sight of concern in her face. Brows pulled together, eyes staring blankly in the sky. “What is troubling you?”
“Something has happened in Heaven,” Ariel said. “Just now. But I cannot tell what it is. It feels… different.”
“Different?” Caelum repeated.
“Maybe this will shine a light on it,” Mikaela joined in their conversation, lifting herself from the ground. “A great catastrophe is happening everywhere. And I mean, everywhere.”
“What is it?” Ariel asked.
“Babies,” Mikaela answered. “Rather, stillborn babies. Nearly three-quarters of the children born in the last few hours have been stillborn.”
“How is that—?” Caelum meant to ask, but halted his sentence when the realization dawned on him. “Souls?” he asked in disbelief, looking to Mikaela and Ariel.
“Heaven… Maybe they closed the gates, severing the connection between Heaven and Earth,” Ariel said. “And with that, the souls that are meant to be reborn in this land cannot return.” Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with worry. “But, why?”
“What about Hell?” Caelum asked. “Both Heaven and Hell supply the souls reborn in this land. At the very least, half of the souls must have come from the ones purified in Hell. How come only a quarter of them live?”
“Probably the same reason why a demonic soul was able to claw its way up here,” Mikaela said.
“The humans will be in grave danger,” Ariel said. “With all of them fighting and shedding blood, and their children dying upon birth…”
“When the rapture comes, it won’t really make much difference,” Caelum commented.
“Is this the intent of the archangels?” Ariel asked.
“If you don’t know, I sure as hell don’t either,” Mikaela said. She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed her eyes on the two of them. “These interrogations aren’t leading us anywhere, sad to say. Any other plans?”
“Ariel, do you have anyone in mind who could help us?” Caelum asked her.
“I- I have not been on Earth for so long. I am not certain anymore,” Ariel admitted.
Caelum placed a hand on her shoulder. “Understandable.” Then, he turned to the witch. “Mikaela?
”
“Hermit.” Mikaela reminded him, pointing to herself.
“Right.” Caelum sighed. “And we have no update from the siblings back at the house. Shall we take a suicidal trip back to my old places, then?”
“Which do you mean?” Mikaela asked him, doubtful.
“Off the top of my head, I’d say we can drop a visit to old Marco back in Chicago,” Caelum said. “He’s a dealer of strange artifacts, has connections to both residents of Earth and Hell.”
“Someone who deals with demons?” Mikaela scoffed at the thought. “Why am I not fond of that idea?”
“Either that or we’ll be stuck where we are now,” Caelum offered. “He is a dealer, after all. We may be able to acquire some items that may prove useful to us.”
“Mikaela is right, though. We must be careful who we contact,” Ariel said. “Are you certain this person can be trusted?”
“I am honestly unsure about that, but it is better than nothing.”
Mikaela and Ariel looked at each other. Having no other option, they decided to take the risk. With Mikaela’s spells, the trio arrived in Chicago in mere seconds. Caelum hoped to embrace the city he’d called home for a while, but the image before him was unwelcoming.
Compared to the city of Burlington, Chicago was an absolute pit of despair. The streets looked desolate, void of life and activity. It was as though they’d stepped into the aftermath of the end already. Negative energy was everywhere, creeping into their skin. Though he was now mortal, even Caelum could feel the eerie aura the streets held.
“What happened to this place?” Caelum found himself asking. The answer came from one he didn’t expect.
“Depression, fear, survival instinct,” Azazel’s voice came from behind them. The three wheeled around to face the man in the dark suit, massaging his palms as he greeted them. “Welcome. Glad you are all well.”
The Damned and The Pure Series: Books 1-4 (The Damned and The Pure Series Box Set) Page 45
