From Heaven To Earth (The Faith of the Fallen)

by Wall, Sherrod

  The Faith of the Fallen

  Book I

  From Heaven to Earth

  Sherrod M. Wall

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2013 Sherrod M. Wall

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover design by Mike Alderfer

  Published by Ensenada Publishing

  http://www.ensenadapublishing.com

  First Revision August 2013

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual places and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  About the Author

  FROM HEAVEN TO EARTH

  Tonight I felt his eyes on me. He never says a word to me anymore, but how I wish he would. Watching me has changed him forever. Men seem to fear change more than anything, even a man as unique as him. I used to fear him once. Now that my dance has cleansed his soul, I am only afraid he will never speak to me again.

  Years ago Gerald asked if I dance to deal with my regrets, my hatred and my sadness. Others wonder if I put those dark things in my art. At one time I did, but not now, not anymore. I dance with them and they with me. By the end of the night pain knows pleasure, sadness has a reason to smile, and hate has a reason to love its enemy. I really believe when people watch me I don’t just connect with them, I change them like that: instead of forcing wrongs down to a place where they breed, they accept the past as pieces of their soul, pieces they would never want to replace. They can look in the mirror and say: I’m human, but my love is godly, and I have a future.

  It might be naïve, but I believe I can share that with anyone, even the coldest of souls, one night at a time, one audience at a time. I guess that’s why I dance, to light up the darkness.

  If my fallen angel can let go of his evils and embrace me as an equal, then love is unstoppable. It gives me hope not only for humanity but for the angels and demons we share our world with too.

  An entry from Eliza Trich’s diary, July 11, 2012

  Chapter 1

  Lust had always stained Gerald’s angelic soul. Lucifer only made him aware of it. Lucifer had not created it, instilled it or forced him to rape, murder and steal. Gerald had made those choices himself.

  The fallen angel’s wings throbbed with a dull ache whenever he moved them: a constant reminder of his past transgressions against God and Heaven.

  Some nights he believed in himself and in change: that he could change and had changed. Most nights he knew his indelible desire only hid and awaited a time of weakness to resurface.

  Gerald spent his nights searching for companionship under the guise of beautification enchantments. He slept during the day. Where he slept depended on his evening’s success. Usually he ended up on the street.

  This night he visited a club to watch a woman who had changed his life.

  Gerald vividly recalled the first night he saw her petite, lithe body, clothed in a black lacy cami and white fitted Adidas pants.

  He wanted her, but he could not bring himself to take her as he did other women. His urges vanished within a minute of watching her. Every night she whirled gleaming balls hooked to cords around her pale skin to thumping electronic music.

  Swirling hues shone through their crystal clear surfaces like nebulae in the semi-dark. Like a dance goddess she brought order to the chaotic dance floor: everyone always stopped to watch her.

  Instead of kidnapping her and taking advantage of her like any other woman he had wanted in the past, he felt an unnatural desire to introduce himself.

  Her name was Eliza Trich.

  He told her how her dancing amazed him and asked if she could teach him the basics.

  He whacked Eliza’s long curly brown hair out of its bun on his first try. She laughed, and he laughed with her: it was a broken raspy cough of a laugh, but it was Gerald’s first genuine moment of joy.

  Afterward he realized something had changed in him. He could not pinpoint it specifically: but he felt content. He had not felt the like since he had fallen.

  Eliza had to say his name at least ten times to get his attention. He had been in awe of the completeness blooming inside himself. He apologized, gave her balls back and told her he would let her do the dancing.

  Gerald came back to watch her frequently and tried to stay out of sight. Somehow, Eliza always knew when he was watching, and made it a point to give him a hug, though he never really returned her affections. He feared if he let himself he would lose control and take advantage of her ignorance.

  There was no way she knew what he was capable of, and if she did she would want nothing to do with him.

  Her ability to cleanse his negativity made him fear her. He did not understand how she was changing him, but he was grateful.

  Eventually she stopped noticing him, and while he missed her he knew it was better that way. Regardless, he slipped tips in a hat she kept at her feet whenever he had extra cash.

  It had been several months since he had seen her, and as he watched her now it brought a grin to his face. He waited for her to turn her back to him so he could slip her a tip.

  He placed a Benjamin in her hat.

  “Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered as he turned away from her.

  She smacked him with one of her balls.

  “Hey! You’re just going to ignore me? It’s been forever.”

  Gerald sighed and turned to her golden-green eyes.

  “Hey, Eliza. You’re right. It’s been a while.”

  He smiled at her.

  “A while is an understatement. Your nose is bleeding. I didn’t do that did I?”

  Gerald wiped it with his hand.

  “It just does that. No idea why.”

  She took his other hand, dragged him to the bar and grabbed some napkins for him. He wiped his nostril and held a napkin against it.

  “Why don’t you ever say hey anymore Gerald?” she asked. “You think I don’t notice you, but I do. Whether I see you or not, I dream about you. I always have horrible dreams abo
ut people that watch me frequently.”

  “What are your dreams like?” Gerald asked, and checked the napkin. The bleeding had stopped.

  “Of you?”

  “Sure.”

  “You do awful things to people...”

  Gerald stood to leave. He always knew someday she would find out who he really was. There was no reason to pretend he was any different.

  She gripped his arm.

  “You don’t scare me Gerald. Please stay.”

  He sat back down and looked into her eyes.

  “Can I tell you something? Something I’ve always wanted to say to you?” Gerald asked.

  She smiled at him.

  “You can tell me anything Gerald. I’ve missed talking to you.”

  “Eliza, somehow you take my pain away and give me hope. Hope and comfort I haven’t felt in... well, a long time. You are mesmerizing; you’re the only human... I mean person... that has made me feel this good.”

  She hugged him, and he couldn’t help but smile and let himself sink into her embrace.

  “I’ve seen you do terrible things in my dreams, but I always enjoy seeing you. In my dreams you have wings. Did I tell you that? Gerald? Are you...”

  Gerald could not hear.

  His vision blurred to black.

  He braced himself for God’s voice. Angels knew it as more than just a sound: it was the most euphoric experience they could ever hope for in their lives, second to completing their daily mandates.

  But, Gerald had not been an angel for a long time.

  Heat exploded in Gerald’s head. A low chorus of hums escalated into wavering shrieks. Though Gerald wanted to shut it out he had to listen and let the initial shock pass. He felt like a cymbal being struck repeatedly. He never knew if his body was actually vibrating or if it was all in his mind.

  Just when he thought his human host’s innards were going to explode, the screeching ceased and became a singular voice. He could barely hear it, like God spoke from deep within a cavern with Gerald listening at its mouth.

  He is on his way. Expect his arrival tomorrow night. His free will has unlocked his limitless potential to learn and adapt. At this point I can no longer predict his capabilities or who he will become. Be cautious with him. I wish you luck, God said and left Gerald’s mind. Images flashed in his mind’s eye and dizziness followed. Thankfully God’s messages had always been curt.

  Gerald regained consciousness.

  “Uh, Gerald.”

  He realized his head was on her chest.

  “Oh. Sorry. Guess I had too much to drink.”

  He cracked an apologetic smile.

  “It’s fine. They’re glad they cushioned your fall.”

  They laughed at each other.

  Gerald tried to etch her chortle into his memory. It was likely the last time he would hear it.

  “I have to go,” Gerald said.

  “So soon?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll be around.”

  “Ok. Hey, do you want to stay at my place? I know you never have a place to sleep. I saw that in my dreams too. You should come over. I’ll cook you some food. I’ll have your leather jacket cleaned and I can get you a new outfit? People tip me all the time here... I don’t even need a real job anymore.”

  She giggled.

  “Nah. I can’t.”

  “It would just be on the couch. You can come and go as you please.”

  “You’ve seen who I really am. You know I can’t.”

  Her button nose wrinkled, and she closed her eyes tightly. Gerald thought she was going to yell at him. Instead, she sighed and turned her face away from him.

  “Fine. Alright.”

  Her disappointment brimmed Gerald’s eyes with tears, and he looked away. He could not remember the last time something had moved him in such a way.

  “Gerald stay away from the angel!” she blurted out.

  He turned at her exclamation, forgetting his emotions.

  “What did you say?”

  “Are you... crying?”

  He wiped his eyes.

  “No. What did you say?”

  “I know you’re going to meet an angel. Please, Gerald. Just come back to my place. Don’t go to him. I have dreams about your future too. The angel and a demon with black skin... they’re going to kill you.”

  Gerald smiled, and laughed. He loved dark clubs: he could smile without being self-conscious of his rotting teeth.

  “That’s impossible. I know this angel would never harm me, Eliza. And I know I’m not much to look at, but no demon would have the balls to take me one on one. How do you know so much about all this?”

  “Just come home with me.” She cupped his rough face in her velvety hands. “We’ll figure it out together. I promise.”

  Gerald leaned out of her reach.

  “I can’t. Even if you were a bona fide prophet I would still have no choice. This angel is going to protect us. Everyone. That is why he is coming. It is my duty to meet him.”

  Eliza shook her head and took one of his large calloused hands in hers.

  “I know what I see, Gerald. Please. I care about you.”

  “I can’t. You shouldn’t care about me. I could never care about you... I could never let myself be close to a human.”

  She let go of his hand.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  He looked into her golden-green eyes. He wanted nothing more than to caress her soft round, freckled face, and kiss her pouty lips. It would be the easiest thing he had ever done: to kiss her tears away.

  But, he knew it was not what he was meant to do.

  He had his orders, his charge and his oath of fealty to honor. He needed redemption.

  “I do. I came to say goodbye. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself.”

  He stood and walked away before he could see her tears. Where he had to go she could not follow. He hoped that she would let go.

  “Gerald!”

  He heard her call after him and the tears came back. He wondered if he would be able to let go.

  Based on the image God placed in his head, Gerald believed the angel would arrive in the slums a few miles away from downtown. He would begin his search there.

  Chapter 2

  In the three hundred fifty-five years of his life only one woman had fulfilled Shrazz more than a challenging brawl. Whether fleeting like a dance or enduring like a relationship, combat left wounds and scars, mementos of passion. Heartbreak came only through loss and satisfaction through victory. Despite the outcome, he fought without regret and with utmost sincerity.

  Through bleary eyes he watched his opponent, a thin half-angel. Her extended translucent wings glowed faintly, like a distant rainbow. He took a deep breath, looked into her eyes and saw anxiety. A prismatic collage of half-breed blood streaked Shrazz’s black sweaty skin: an artist covered with his work. She feared her blood would be the finishing touch for his latest masterpiece.

  Shrazz’s claws would easily rip through her brown gei to the chocolate skin beneath if he could catch her, but exhaustion weighed him down. He had to change her reservations into overconfidence: he feigned a stumble.

  With a stride and a flap of her wings, she thrust her spear toward his heart. He twisted his aching body away, and the skia’s spear point penetrated his side. Through the pain Shrazz smiled.

  Panic filled her amber eyes.

  Before she escaped his reach, he held her small frame fast, ripped one of her wings off and suckled its tendon. Salty blood mixed with the tang of Inner, the divine energy within all half-breeds, coated his tongue.

  Her body trembled, and froth spilled from her mouth.

  Revitalized, Shrazz removed the spear, plunged it through the half-angel’s stomach and the metal arena floor beneath her.

  The impaled skia wailed and Shrazz broke her neck with a stomp. Her death, like a kiss from a partner he had not seen for years, filled his heart with fluttering joy.

  Cheers rose up from the g
lass club boxes high above the stands.

  He drank from her remaining wing. Its feathers wavered into view. Their multi-colored phosphorescence dulled to grey as they withered and drifted from the tendon to the floor. He felt his spear wound itch and knew it was closing. Shrazz tossed the featherless wing aside.

  Shrazz’s body tingled with battle-ecstasy as he walked through the ring and surveyed the mess of body parts strewn across the floor and the stands of the coliseum: the 999 losers of the contest.

  Human runners dressed in red robes met Shrazz with Inner infused drinks, Gatorade for half-breeds. He normally did not drink Inner if it wasn’t in fresh blood, but he was tired. One offered him a shower. He refused. He wanted to wear his hard earned mantle a while longer.

  They escorted him out of the arena and into a room decorated with red curtains trimmed with lacy white designs. At its center, stairs led to a wide, stone dais.

  “The Duo will contact you shortly through the holographic dais,” a woman said as the humans bowed and exited.

  “Shrazz, we congratulate you. The mission is yours.”

  He recognized the female voice before he turned: one of The Falling Curtain’s leaders, Duo Hera.

  He lowered his head and knelt before the dais.

  “My Lord. My Lady. Thank you for this opportunity,” Shrazz huffed, and kept his gaze on the white tiled floor.

  “Look upon us, Exous Elite. You have earned that right,” Duo Rahm, Hera’s brother said.

  Shrazz hesitated at first and stood.

  Duo Rahm looked like a three foot tall, wiry toddler. Two orange-red halos circled his bald head. Smooth yellow skin flowed freely between isles of black. Blue replaced his yellow as Shrazz watched. Shrazz saw five thin scars on his face, like someone had scraped him from his left temple to his right cheek. Rahm’s pupils swirled like pools of magma and cooled to sea green as his thin lips parted into a grin.

  Duo Hera had only a disembodied head with long opalescent hair. Two blue halos orbited it.

  Her full black lips were curled upward in a smile, but it seemed like a façade, as if something troubled her. A white blindfold covered her eyes. Myriads of color shimmered into view beneath her and shaped into a diminutive translucent humanoid body. Bones formed within it and muscles atop it. Silver transparent skin shone like shards of glass in the light. Shrazz thought he saw long thin nails protrude from her small hands before the process reversed.