by S. J. West
I hadn’t been able to unearth any leads on Lucifer’s whereabouts on Earth, but I knew wherever war and strife were, he wouldn’t be far behind. That was just fine by me. War was my specialty and killing brought me joy beyond measure.
Two months after that meeting in the desert, I went to Desmond’s small house in the mountains. What I saw when I walked into his home still haunts me to this day.
I found Desmond sitting with his son curled up on his lap before the small fire in his home. He was humming a tune I didn’t recognize, but its soothing melody sounded like some sort of lullaby. When I saw Carrig, I involuntarily gasped. Desmond’s son was now trapped in a body that was half-human and half-monster. The lower half still held the form of a normal human baby, but the upper half looked like the hairless dog creature Desmond had tried to describe to me before. Carrig was extremely emaciated. All that was left of him was skin and bones. He whined pitifully as his little body shook from the pain he was experiencing. It was obvious to me that he was on the precipice of death.
“It didn’t work, Aiden,” Desmond said sorrowfully as I stood across from him. He couldn’t take his eyes off his son as tears of despair coursed down his cheeks. “It didn’t work,” he repeated, his voice cracking as his anguish consumed him.
Carrig yelped pitifully as he looked up at Desmond. It was as if he was asking his father to find a way to end his torment, to find a way to bring him peace. Desmond began to cry even harder at his own helplessness.
“I guess I should have known better,” Desmond sobbed, cradling his son to his chest and trying to bring Carrig what comfort he could provide. “I should have known we couldn’t cheat to keep them safe.”
“What happened, Desmond?” I asked, feeling an ache form inside my heart for my friend’s agony.
“I think phasing them back and forth between time zones caused their bodies to become confused. They have to change into their other form once a day or this happens. He’s trapped between being human and this thing. He can’t seem to transform fully into either shape anymore.”
I felt an immense sense of guilt over Carrig’s fate. I was the one who suggested the plan in the first place. His current state was partly my doing.
“Anything he eats or drinks just comes right back up,” Desmond said despondently. “He’s starving to death and there’s nothing I can do to help him, Aiden. He’s in so much pain, and I can’t do anything to stop it.”
I couldn’t stand seeing my friend trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t escape from. So, I offered to do the one thing that would free them both from their agony.
I knelt down beside Desmond.
“Let me end his life peacefully,” I said to Desmond. “Let me stop his pain.”
Desmond looked over at me, and I could see he knew it was the only option he had left to end his child’s suffering.
Desmond began to weep even harder as he held his son closer to his chest. He touched his forehead to Carrig’s. He whispered to his son how much he loved him and how sorry he was that he had damned him to live such a short and wretched life. I didn’t rush Desmond as he said his last goodbyes to his son. I knew how hard it was for him, but I also knew he wouldn’t be selfish enough to prolong Carrig’s suffering any more than he was necessary.
Desmond finally turned to me and handed me his son. I couldn’t look Desmond’s face. I knew if I did, what was left of my heart would completely break. I stood up and walked out of the house with Carrig in my arms. I walked as far as I needed to until I couldn’t hear Desmond’s cries of agony anymore. As I stood on the side of the mountain, I looked down at Carrig in my arms. After not being able to eat or drink, Desmond’s son was a living skeleton. It could be that if we simply waited another day or two he would die on his own. But, his heart was young and strong, refusing to stop beating and keeping him alive longer than he needed to be.
Even though I wasn’t sure my father still heard my prayers, I asked Him to take special care of Carrig in Heaven.
“You didn’t deserve to be born into a life like this,” I said to him. “I hope you find peace with our father and find your mother in Heaven waiting for you when you get there.”
Carrig looked up at me and gave a small whine before closing his eyes. It was almost as if he knew what I was about to do and welcomed the release from his pain.
I held Carrig up to me with his little misshapen head resting against my shoulder. With one quick squeeze, I broke his neck.
I didn’t think Desmond could deal with seeing the dead body of his son. So, I dug a small gave by his house and buried Carrig in it. It was summertime and flowers were blooming everywhere. I picked as many as I could and surrounded the grave with them, hoping the small mound of earth wouldn’t look as sad. Their presence didn’t really help, but I think Desmond appreciated the effort I made when he came out to pray over the grave.
I knew there wasn’t anything I could say to ease my friend’s pain. So, I left to let him mourn the passing of his son in his own way.
What I did for Carrig and Desmond that day did nothing but stoke the fires of my anger towards my father. I hated Him for a long while afterwards and never thought I could learn to love Him again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I have to stop writing because my hand is shaking so much I can’t keep hold of the pencil. Of all the deaths I’ve been responsible for, Carrig’s is the one that haunts me most. He was an innocent forced into a life that was not of his own making. Since that day, neither Desmond nor I have spoken Carrig’s name to one another. Desmond harbors a remorseful guilt about his son’s life, and I’m the one who must live with his death on my hands. Intellectually, I know what I did only hastened the inevitable and saved him from suffering through an excruciating demise. Nevertheless, it’s something I can’t forget no matter how much I want to.
My cellphone vibrates on the desk, signaling that I just received a text message. I look at it and see it’s from Mason.
Malcolm told me what you’re doing. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.
I stare at the text for a moment before answering.
Do you have time to come to my apartment in Istanbul?
Mason answers instantly.
Be right there. I’ll meet you in the living room.
I walk out into the living room and see that the city is lit by sunshine now. I look at the clock on the wall and see that it’s midafternoon. I expected Mason to phase in almost immediately, but he doesn’t appear until almost ten minutes later.
“Sorry,” he apologizes as he walks over to the dining table between the living room and small kitchen. He sets down a tall pink cupcake shaped plastic container. “Jess and the kids wouldn’t let me leave without bringing you these. I think they’re worried their favorite uncle might waste away.”
I walk over to the table just as Mason lifts the lid of the container and reveals some homemade cupcakes. Some have been decorated with flowers, others have hearts, and the remaining has lopsided smiley faces, which make me smile in return.
I pick up one of the heart-frosted ones and pull the paper back to take a bite. The cake is strawberry and the icing is cream cheese flavored.
“Tell them thank you for me,” I say. “They’re delicious.”
“So, how far have you gotten in this journal of yours?” Mason asks, crossing his arms in front of him.
“I just got through describing my fall from grace,” I tell him, setting down the rest of the cupcake on the table so we can speak.
“You mean our fall, don’t you?”
“Mine, ours…it’s all the same I guess, but my story is what I want Caylin to know the facts about. I think it’s important for her to understand everything about the man she plans to marry. She’s only seen me during my good years. I don’t want to start our life together without her knowing I wasn’t always this way.”
“I think you’re placing too much importance on who you used to be instead of who you are now, Aiden,” Mason tells me.
“You’ve come a long way from those days. You’re a totally different person.”
“I feel like I’m lying to her or at the very least omitting the facts about the worst part of myself. But, wanting you to remind me that I’ve changed isn’t the reason I asked you over here.”
“Then why did you? What else can I do to help you?”
“When we met in the desert after that first year, it seemed like you believed you could have prevented the rest of us from breaking God’s rule. Why?”
Mason uncrosses his arms and stuffs his hands in the front pockets of the gray slacks he’s wearing.
“The instant I started my own interactions with the humans I knew we were in trouble. When I met my first wife, I felt more alive than I had in an eternity in Heaven. She made me feel like I mattered. She cared about me for who I was. I’m sure you quickly realized the dynamic between a man and a woman was unlike anything we had experienced in Heaven. For me, it was electrifying both mentally and physically. I knew a lot of us would have trouble denying our draw to them and what they offered. After fighting such a long war in Heaven, I think we were all attracted to their loving nature and gentleness. They helped heal us in certain ways, but we should have been stronger and resisted our urges. The reason I felt so much guilt over our fall was because I should have returned to God the moment I realized what was happening. I should have gone to Him and told Him to call us all back to Heaven. We weren’t ready to be among the humans yet. But I let my own selfishness consume me. I wanted what my wife had to offer. I wanted it so badly I blocked myself off and made myself believe that everything would work out in the end. I should have known better. I should have been a stronger leader for all of you.”
“We all made our own decisions. We probably wouldn’t have listened to your warning anyway, Mason. Angels are notoriously stubborn you know.”
Mason chuckles. “Yes, I know we can be. But still, I felt guilt over not going to God and letting Him know what was happening.”
“He knew.”
“I know,” Mason sighs. “He sees everything but rarely interferes. If I had asked for His help, things might not have turned out the same way.”
“I’ve done a lot in my life to be ashamed of,” I say, “but I would do it all over again if it was the only way to be where I am right this minute. I can’t imagine not having Caylin in my life.”
“I totally agree with you. I can’t imagine my life without Jess and the kids.”
I hesitate to ask my second question but know it will bother me if I don’t.
“When you went to God and told Him what happened, you came back with that gash on your face. Did He do it to you?”
“You know, for years I thought He did. I thought it was His punishment for failing in my duties as your leader on Earth. It was only after the Tear was sealed and my scar completely went away that I realized the truth. It had always been a physical manifestation of my own guilt. After I stopped blaming myself for what happened, the last reminder of my failure faded away.”
“Speaking of guilt, how is Jess doing?”
Mason shakes his head. “She’s still not sleeping well. If she could stop dreaming about that damnable alternate Earth, she would be a lot better. Or, if we could just figure out what we’re doing wrong, we would both be happier people.”
“And God hasn’t given her any more hints about what to do?”
Mason shakes his head. “No. He just tells us we haven’t found the right combination of people to go with us yet.”
“Well, if you need to try again, let me know.”
Mason smiles and shakes his head.
“Jess didn’t want to you to try the first time. There’s no way in hell she’s going to have you come a second time. You’re meant to start the line of descendants with Caylin. Jess isn’t going to risk your life again. There’s no way to know what we’ll find once we finally get back to alternate Earth. And there’s no way to guarantee we’ll all make it back.”
“You seem pretty sure you’ll get there.”
“I am,” Mason says with certainty. “I don’t think Jess would keep having the dreams if we weren’t meant to go back and help. We’ll get there eventually. I’m just not sure when. I hope it’s soon though. I’m not sure I can take much more of her waking up in the middle of the night screaming.”
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from spending time with your family,” I say, holding out my hand to Mason for him to shake. “Thanks for coming. And tell Jess, Brynlee, and Max that I love the cupcakes and the thought behind them.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Mason says, reaching behind his back to pull out what looks like a card made from pink construction paper. “Brynlee asked me to give this to you.”
On the front of the folded piece of construction paper is a paper mache red heart outlined in red glitter. “Happy” is written above the heart and “Valentine’s” is written below the heart. When I open it up, I see Brynlee has traced the shape of both her hands to form a heart in the center of the paper and outlined it in gold glitter. Within the heart itself, she wrote, “I love you, Uncle Aiden”.
I become a little choked up by the sweet sentiment. Ever since Brynlee was a baby, she and I have had a special connection. Jess blames it on me spoiling her daughter since the moment she was born, and it’s a charge I can’t deny. I never really liked children all that much, but the minute Brynlee was born I began to feel a deep-set need to act fatherly. Perhaps it was just fortuitous timing, or it was my father hinting that I was ready to start a family of my own. No matter what the reason, I loved Mason’s little girl and Max, when he would let me.
“Tell Brynlee I love it,” I say, keeping the card in my hands so I can take it back into the office with me.
“I will,” Mason says with a proud smile. I knew Mason loved his children just as much as he did Jess.
I also knew the two of them had been trying to have a third child for a few years now. For whatever reason, they weren’t able to conceive. I wasn’t sure if it was the stress Jess was under to find a way back to the alternate Earth or something else. It really wasn’t any of my business, but I did worry for them, as any friend would.
“I should go and let you get back to your writing,” Mason says. “Call me if you need me. You know I’ll always come.”
I nod. “I know, Mason. And thank you.”
Mason phases back home and I return to my office.
I prop Brynlee’s card on my desk as a reminder that I am loved in the new life I have been able to carve out for myself.
But my past beckons me to continue to write it down, and I am determined to do just that.
The Curse
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I spent over three thousand years trying to forget who and what I was. I watched empires rise and fall, not caring who was in power as long as I was given the opportunity to fight. Occasionally, I would see a brother Watcher, but, for the most part, I kept my distance from them as they did me. I didn’t need to be reminded of what I had lost because I was fully aware of my own shortcomings. It wasn’t until the time of Alexander the Great that I found a leader I could fully support. After his defeat of the Persians in the battles of Granicus and Issus, I joined his forces and eventually became one of his trusted advisors.
After his death, I began to drift again. It was hard for me to follow any one ruler because few had the mental fortitude to stay focused on the importance of warfare, to conquer their enemies and not allow themselves to become mired in only the black hearted pursuit of political gain. War and politics always seemed like strange bedfellows to me, but I guess you really can’t have one without the other being involved. I’ve just never liked the political side of ruling very much.
At the turn of the 14th century, I was sought out by someone unexpected. By that time, I was bored with my life and needed a new pursuit. Up to that point, my solo efforts to locate Lucifer had all been failures. I suppose I was foolish in thinking I could just come to Earth a
nd track him down easily. Even when I found a rebellion angel cloaked in the form of a human, they would simply vacate the body I tried to interrogate and find another shell of humanity to inhabit. If Lucifer didn’t want to be found by you, you wouldn’t find him.
I’m not sure how much Malcolm has told you about his past, but I feel sure he’s mentioned someone named Justin to you.
Justin was a fellow Watcher. He was one of the few who chose to come down in a slightly older looking body. I didn’t know him very well in Heaven. He wasn’t a War Angel, and he wasn’t part of the Vanguard. He was more like a foot soldier in God’s Army. Justin was cautious and shrewd enough to use those around him to his advantage. During the war in Heaven, he would make sure he was close to those who could fight better than he could. That way his own inadequacies wouldn’t be on full display. He counted on those he surrounded himself with to keep him protected during a battle. I suppose that might have been one reason I was never interested enough to get to know him. Someone who couldn’t fight well was of no importance to me.
However, as I would soon learn, Justin’s true talent lay somewhere else. He knew how to talk to people and cajole them into giving him exactly what he wanted. If anyone was an expert at playing the game of politics, it was Justin.
I clearly remember the day Justin first approached me about working with him. I was pretending to eat a meal in a small seaside café in Edirne, the Turkish capital city at the time. In actuality, I was there to determine which one of its patrons would end up sacrificing their lives to feed my bloodlust. I had my eye on a woman who was sitting a couple of tables away from me. I was simply waiting for her and her male companion to finish their meal before I had my own.
