As ridiculous as Barnem looked, each finger on his gauntlet was stained with blood. That’s when I realized that he had used his hands to create the priest’s pieces.
The Seraph huffed at me. “Make you understand what, Grey? You barely understand what existence is. You barely know anything outside of yourself.”
I knew I had to keep him talking. At least for a little while longer.
“Humor me,” I said.
“All right. How’s this for an existence? How about having to eat to keep up this mortal body? Hmm? It’s frustrating. And gross, by the way. Mashing, crunching, gnashing. Balling gobs of meat and bread with saliva. All the time. That’s all your damn kind ever does.”
“Yeah, well—”
I acted like I was stretching, but I managed to draw the knife off of my waist and thrust it at Barnem’s throat. But the Seraphim caught the tip just inches from his larynx with only two fingers and continued talking.
“Consume and repeat. And when they aren’t eating, they are talking about eating. Or taking photos of what other people should be eating. It is the worst, I really need you to understand. The absolute worst. Framing my life with food.”
There was a shattering of stained glass around us and suddenly we weren’t alone. Twenty angels surrounded us, each fashioned in ash-colored armor. Up close, I could see that their skin resembled oddly shaped wax; misshapen heads without faces beneath their metal coifs. Their wings were tucked behind their backs and their weapons—swords, shields, and maces—stood at the ready.
“Funny you’re so talkative, Barnem. I vaguely remember you saying that you hated rants. Was that a lie, too?” I asked, not giving a damn about my circumstance. I tried pushing the blade closer to his neck but found it impossible.
He sighed. “Is that what you think I did? You think I lied to you? No, no, no, Grey. No, no. To claim that I ‘lied’ to you in any way would make you important. No I denied you the truth. Huge difference. Immense. I denied you the truth because you weren’t worthy of it. That’s all. Would you bother wasting your time explaining string theory to a flake of dandruff?”
I set both hands on the knife and tried my best to shove it into his damn neck, even got up for leverage. Even leaned into it. Nothing.
“Done?” Barnem asked.
“Totally,” I replied, pulling the knife away and giving it to him.
Taking the weapon, Barnem flicked it over his head and it clattered somewhere in the back of the church. He tapped the seat for me to sit.
I did and he stretched his arms out on the backrest like we were on a date.
“Aw, c’mon,” he said coyly. “You and me, Grey. We’ve been through a helluva lot.”
“Because of you,” I muttered, trying to rub feeling back into my skin. “All of it.”
“Remember when we first spoke about this, Grey? The first time you asked me? I told you, didn’t I, what my role was? What I was put on your stupid little earth to do? I am the herald. The angel whose sole job is to end your world. Don’t hate me for doing my job, okay? Take that shit up with management.”
I laughed. “Is that it? Really, Barnem? All of the pain and suffering, the innocent lives, framing me for ending the world, and you justify it with a really shitty version of ‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game’?”
Barnem searched his memory for the right word, flicked up air quotes, and replied, “Holla.”
I furrowed my brows as if in thought. “I wonder.”
“Please don’t do that.”
“No, I wonder, Barnem. How much of your ‘job’ was Gaffrey Palls?”
The angel’s face puckered. “Dunno what you’re getting at.”
“You don’t? This whole thing started with a friggin’ demon-filled piñata visiting me in my home while an angel, who just so happens to be its vanquisher, also just so happens to be living upstairs.”
“So?” Barnem said indignantly and then threw his armored hands up. Then he added, “All right. Okay! So I might have jumped the gun with the whole ‘Day of Reckoning’ thing. Maybe a tad on the early side. But you … you of all people know how much of a joke your race is. Whoa. Was. Past tense at this point, I guess.”
“You ‘jumped the gun’?”
“And why does any of it matter? Today. Ten years from now. Ten billion.” He clapped his hands together. “Your whole existence was headed in the shitter anyway. So what if I nudged the gas pedal a bit?”
I swung a nasty right which connected flush against the Seraph’s face. He didn’t catch or dodge it. He wanted me to hit him. The angels took a step toward me, but Barnem waved them off with two fingers. The blow bruised instantly, a small trickle of blood even crept out of his mouth. But otherwise, all my (well-deserved) sucker punch accomplished was propping the Seraph’s head back to give him a view of the ceiling. On the other end, I’d broken my hand.
Barnem blinked. “You’re testament to your kind, Amanda Grey. No matter how old you seem to live, you still wield power like children. Given the ability to build marvels, and instead you engineer double-sided dildos that sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’. You’re capable of crafting sonnets, or laws that defeat social injustices, but instead dedicate your language skills, time, and energy into typing your completely worthless opinions in the little space beneath cat videos. You should be thanking me. Yeah, you should be on your knees singing my fucking praise. Do you know what it’s called when a higher life form dispenses the kind of justice I’m responsible for?”
I gritted my teeth. “Murder.”
Barnem’s head remained pointing up at the ceiling, only his brown eyes slid down to stare into me. “Mercy.”
The seraph stood up from his seat and walked up on stage while the angels parted to give him space. Taking a deep breath, he looked around. “I’m going to be honest, and this may seem crazy to hear, but … churches give me the creeps.” He planted both of his hands flat on the white clothed altar. “Just so big and hollow. An empty house. It’s supposed to make you feel small and well … mission accomplished!” he yelled and two wings burst from his back. His voice echoed throughout the entire place, trailed, then grew silent as his wings disappeared again. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”
“You have no idea how much I don’t care,” I shot back. “You’re an angel, Barnem. You’re supposed to be one of the good guys.”
“Oh, but I am. I am the good guy. A goddamn hero. You know I watched you for a long time. A really long time, in fact. And I guessed, considering how shitty your life was, day in and day out, that you would actually see that. That you would actually side with me in all of this. Isn’t that crazy? I mean, here I thought that you were as fed up and over this … this uselessness of an existence. But not you. Not that Amanda Grey. She’s a fighter, to the bitter fucking end, too. You fight, endlessly. You throw your fists at anything in your way.”
“You bet,” I replied. “It makes me that much adorable.”
Barnem looked at me half eyed as the image of the gold flames on his chest crept back and forth. “Even now, it freaking escapes me. You, of all people, Grey. I thought you would really, truly understand how being forced to be around these people was a goddamn chore. And unfair! It’s unfair to us, Grey. It’s unfair that we have to watch their shows and listen to their music and eat their food and smile, when all we want to do is spit that shit out and say ‘No. I’m not and will never be a part of you’. They push us aside. They call us difficult, pariahs, when in reality we are the normal ones. Us! We speak our minds. We think without being clouded and swayed by others. We fucking rock compared to their crappy little timeline viewing existences and somehow we are the weirdos? We are? Have you seen what they do for entertainment? Have you met the people they elect into office?”
“So the world is fucked up?” I said, standing to my feet. “We should be building one big couch that can be seen
from space for every person who can use the therapy, not trying to light them on fire. You’re attempting to justify genocide!”
“I’m trying to serve my purpose!” Barnem boomed. Running his hand through his mohawk, he then walked over to his sword and wrenched it from the ground. The blue metal seemed to sing. “I spent so long chasing the Shades, Grey. So long. But then I realized that I didn’t need to work so hard. That’s when I met Gaffrey Palls. And then it all clicked. My purpose. Palls did the heavy lifting and all I had to do was to … aim him, point the freak in the right direction.” He started clapping. “And Palls was onto his last demon, the final piece, when you two met. And then you killed him.”
Remembering that man’s face brought a lump to my throat. I was seething. “So Palls was working for you?”
“Everybody was working for me. Even you in the end, Grey. Tell me, did that runt of a demon die a horrible death? How does it feel to be so black and powerful?”
“I thought you were dead.”
He chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Well it’s easy to kill someone and pop their head off like fresh fruit.” He showed off his fingers. “But, even if I were to die, Grey, I’m an angel. My place is right here. Can’t go back to Heaven. And I’m totally too holy for hell.”
This made me have a shred of hope. Against my fears, I managed to stand up. “You staged it. Made me think you died just to pit us against each other.”
“And you did. It took some time, you know. I had to kill a few people in the process. That Hill woman, for instance. I figured killing her and scraping your name in her forehead would be … I dunno, motivation. And it kind of worked. Almost got yourself killed in the process, but you got the job done. Bra-vo.” Barnem dragged the white cloth off of the altar and began wiping his bloody hands on it. When he was done, he balled it up and threw it aside. “You have one more role to play, Grey. I hope your roommate died a horrible, screaming death. I can sense his darkness inside of you. It’s gushing out. These guys, well, they’re here to kill you. They’re looking to kill anything touched by the Beast, whatever is inside of you now. I’m going to sick them on you so that I can see, for myself, if you really have the darkness. You will lose control. And then, I will slay you myself.”
I stood up. The angels all took a step toward me but I didn’t flinch, instead saying angrily, “Sorry to break it to you, Barnem, but I’m not going to lose control. D’s will was strong enough to control it. I can control it now, too. What is it called again? The ‘Subjugation of Wills’.”
“Subjugation of Wills, eh?” Barnem drew into his poker face. “I blame you, up there,” he yelled to someone behind me. “That’s always been your problem, you know? You had one job: get her to fight the other Shade. But instead you took your time. If you weren’t on my side already, I would have called you out on trying to undermine me.”
I turned back to see that Cain was sitting on top of the confessional I had climbed out of, her scythe sitting blissfully on her lap.
“Come off it, Barnem. I’m only here for one reason and one reason alone. My job opportunities soar as long as the age of man ends tonight.” Then, when she spotted me, she twiddled her fingers and said, “Hey there, beautiful!”
“You? You helped this guy end the world for a chance to network a new job? Have you not heard of the Internet?”
Cain laughed. “I have a very specific skillset, Grey, one that only increases in value once the big party gets underway. Like do you know that the first part involves a culling? I mean absolute. A freaking fire sale on murders.” As if realizing something for the first time, she sighed dramatically. “Oh man. If the Plague was like the Coachella of mass genocide, this is going to be an event. Massive!”
I was too busy paying attention to Cain that I missed one of the warrior angels making their move. It dove at me and drove its large sword right down on my head. I thought I dodged in time, but the full weight connected, and just like trying to head-butt a two story house, the sword drove my entire head into the ground.
It should have beheaded me, but instead I balanced the edge of the blade on my shoulders as I stood back on my feet. The angels all took a step back in shock. Only Barnem clapped his hands in amusement.
“That didn’t hurt,” I said aloud. “But what do I do now?”
“Just let loose,” my Shade hissed. “Show them what happens when you screw with prophecy.”
Feeling the complete power of the Shades inside of me was pretty much what I thought it would feel like to French kiss a wall socket, or dry humping an electric chair just as someone flips the switch. Tossing the sword aside, I landed one solid punch to the angel’s abdomen. What’s the insides of a warrior angel look like, you might be asking? Feathers and purple goo—pounds of it flew everywhere. The other angels were on me immediately, but this time, I was ready. One swung its ax for my face. Instead of ducking, I leaned forward, caught the massive blade with my teeth, and shattered it. There was nothing pretty about the way I attacked each one, but every punch and kick was accompanied by a black cloak of ash and shadow that extended out of my skin almost twenty feet. I tore one’s wings off. Punted one through the high ceiling. This was the most power I had ever felt in my life and I was reveling in it.
Suddenly, Barnem kneed me in the face and pinned me to the ground, pointing his holy sword’s tip right in between my eyes. My strength was immediately gone, the fire within me snuffed out when he touched me. As the only angel capable of slaying the Beast, I knew that the Seraph was loving every moment of this.
“Look at you, Grey! Look. At. You!” he shouted. “Glorious. This darkness. It’s even greater than Palls when I first met him. Even darker than his black soul.”
Unable to move, I had to play my trump card and pray for the best.
“You know, Barnem,” I told him as I attempted to slide from under his weight. “You know that I told you back when Petty died that you owed me something. Whaddaya say you pay up? I already got one punch in.”
“Ha!” This was catnip for the egotistical Seraph and I knew that he couldn’t resist. In his mind, I was already beat. “You really are something, Grey. Like really. It’s a shame you and the Beast got so close, now you have to go to hell because your soul is tainted. Would like to say that I’m going to miss you, but … that’s bullshit. But that’s really good, Grey. So good. I’m … You know what?” Smiling, he slid his arms behind his back. “Make this good. Pretend like this is the last thing you’ll ever do in your life because—”
Somewhere outside, a large explosion filled the air. It sounded like a building toppling over.
Barnem smiled. “Well, yeah. I guess it will be the last thing. C’mon, Grey. Time to finally do something with that pathetic life of yours. Last licks.”
The Seraph was too busy jawing to see me lift my leg up like a pitcher. The fist I then hit him with landed flatly across his face with the same amount of fanfare that the meteor that killed the dinosaurs had. The floor cracked around us as the Seraph’s entire upper half made a small radial crater around my feet upon hitting the ground.
A large squeal of delight and clapping came from Cain’s perch when it landed.
Barnem was ready to laugh it off, but I pounced on him and slammed my right hand over his open mouth. I raised my left hand in a fist behind my head, showing Barnem exactly what I needed him to see, and he reacted. Unfortunately, while I knew that I was risking a lot by attacking an angel head on, I didn’t expect what happened next.
With one sharp cleave, Barnem severed my right arm off at the elbow. The pain that exploded through my body was at first like a hot flash. I felt like I was instantly drenched in sweat. What was left of my arm bled so freely that my legs instantly went numb. There was blood, so much. It was getting into my eyes, my mouth.
I heard Barnem gag and then open his mouth to let out this semi-orgasmic exhale. After coughing uncontrollably, he croaked out, “N
ow there … there’s a bit of violence that’s been a long, long time coming.”
From somewhere nearby, I heard Cain let out a gagging sound and then her feet hit the ground. “Whelp. Don’t need to stay here for this part.”
Barnem clicked his tongue. “Still can’t stand the sight of blood? You know that’s not supposed to be a thing. You’re an Angel of Death.”
But Cain kept walking. “I reap the souls. Never liked how they got there. Besides, I heard that the locusts are about to drop on Times Square. That’s the sort of thing that if you’re not early, you might as well not go.” And the last I heard of her was the sound of the front doors creaking shut behind her.
There wasn’t much I could see anymore. I was bleeding out but still trying my best to crawl somewhere. Barnem used his foot to turn my face over and face him. “You should be grateful for this, Grey. You should be grateful to me. Think about it. Your sad little existence now has value and meaning. Where would you be now without me, huh? Locked up in your apartment, rotting away behind your locked door? You were pathetic. And I made you necessary.”
I heard the point of Barnem’s holy blade land right by my face. “This is it, Grey. And just look at it like this: you’ll get to be with them again. Sure it’s hell and all, but you’ll have your sister there. And Donaldson, too. The man probably shaded his entire soul just trying to get near you.”
I stared up at the Seraph’s mangled face as he drew back the sword.
Mixing in with the fear, the nauseousness, and the overwhelming pain, came another feeling that was strong enough override them all. It was as if something had taken my skin and was pulling it in all directions at once. As if all of the hairs on my body stood as sharp as needles. Barnem staggered as if feeling something, too. We were both suddenly aware that, even given in the large expanse of Saint Patrick’s, the air around us had changed. It felt as if a blanket had swallowed the dying city outside and now a thousand eyes were on us. We were aware that we weren’t alone.
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