Holy Sheoly

by Hunter Blain

  “Look, sorry about what happened, okay? I, ah, didn’t know you were, you know...real.”

  “I was only there to deliver a message, fool,” Uriel grumbled. “You were being deceived and needed to be told.”

  “Oh, yeah, Baleius and I are good now. Lily too...I think.”

  Uriel opened his mouth when Da stepped to my side. “That’s all in the past. My brother and I have had ample time to speak on the subject of John.”

  “Oooooh! That’s my favorite subject!” I exclaimed.

  “I know,” Da answered dryly, but with just a hint of humor in it.

  “I missed you, man,” I admitted as I wrapped my free arm around him and squeezed again.

  He patted my back a few times before saying, “I know. And I missed you, too. But I was needed down here.”

  I pulled away with a start as I looked at my friend. “What do you mean? Yo-yo-you came here on purpose?”

  “Walk with me, John,” Da gently urged as he began making his way through the crowd. “Hello, everyone,” he greeted.

  I glanced up at Bubba, who continued to stare down at me, before I shrugged and jogged to catch up with Da.

  “So, ah, you were saying about purposely coming to Sheol?” I tried to ask casually, though my pitch gave away my overpowering surprise. That suggested he’d left me intentionally, and that just didn’t sit right, like a 2 a.m. Taco Bell.

  “I was needed here.”

  “I needed you too,” I countered lamely like a pouty child.

  “Did you?” Da countered with a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.

  Within a few steps, we were approaching what appeared to be a camp.

  “What the rubber ducky is that?” I asked as we began walking by row after row of huts. There were fires placed sporadically, providing enough light to see all the healthy, glowing souls who were gathering around. “Wait a sec! How did we get here so fast?” I inquired as I turned to face where we had come from.

  “There’s a lot to learn down here. Both time and space are different than what you are accustomed to. Forget everything you know about physics.”

  Inside my information city, I found the file cabinet labeled “Physics...and Metallica,” and pretended to click a mouse and drag it to a recycle bin that appeared out of thin air.

  Da must have seen my look of concentration as I did as instructed because he quickly added, “Don’t actually forget everything about physics, dear boy!”

  “Oh,” I drawled. “I don’t know math no more.” Going into my city again, I double-clicked the recycle bin before dragging the cabinet back in place. “Never mind. We good.”

  “As I was saying,” Da continued as he resumed his pace, “Sheol follows a different set of rules. Once you learn them, it doesn’t have to be such a bad place.”

  Seeing the adequate lighting, I let my gladius vanish and pocketed the nail while flexing my hand open and closed, finally letting it rest. I looked around at the healthy faces and began to understand what Da had done.

  “You sacrificed yourself...not for me…but for them,” I softly said with veneration.

  “My journey with you was complete, and it was time to move on.” Da stopped before turning to me. He was almost my height in his human form. “John, I want you to know how proud I am of everything you’ve accomplished.”

  “How—”

  “How do I know what you’ve been up to?” Da asked with a playful smile. “Angel secret.”

  “No, really. How can you know what’s happening above while down here? I thought there was, like, no escape or whatever.”

  Da’s smile dropped a fraction before returning to its normal glory.

  “John, everything will make sense to you, someday.”

  “Let me guess; that day isn’t today, is it?”

  Da placed both his hands on my shoulders as if expecting my reaction, and said, “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Oh? What is it? I hope it’s Batman Returns on VHS!”

  “Even better.”

  I arched an eyebrow dubiously.

  “Better than Mikey K as Batman? I don’t believe you.”

  “Bet,” a familiar voice called out from behind. My voice caught in my throat and I slowly turned to see Dawson. “I’m not scared anymore, dude.”

  I lost my shit right then and there. A sob burst through the lump in my throat and tears raced down my face like a broken dam. I rushed forward, bent down, and wrapped my arms across his surprisingly thick chest and back, hoisting him up.

  “Lilith, am I freaking glad to see you, man!” I said between sobs as I bear-hugged my miniature-sized bromego.

  “Alright, alright,” Dawson let out. “You can put me down now, dude.”

  With one more squeeze, I gently set him down before wiping at my face and sniffling the snot back.

  “How, ah, how are you?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips, unsure of what to say.

  “Thanks to Da here, I’m pretty okay, man,” Dawson said with a nod toward his guardian angel. Da had a habit of being just that for the people that needed him the most.

  Relief washed over me, and I wanted to sob in pure happiness again as I looked back and forth between my friends.

  “Everything okay, dude?” Dawson asked with mild concern.

  I brought a fist up to my mouth, trying to swallow back the undeniable sensation of crying. Nothing was worse than being on the verge of sobbing and having someone ask if you were okay.

  “I...I’m just so happy to see you guys,” I let out, trying my best not to lose it again.

  “Dude, I’m not gay,” Dawson remarked with a smile. I barked out a cry-laugh before bringing both my hands up to my friends and motioning for them to step forward. They did, and we three hugged it out until the desire to cry had melted from my being.

  “Come,” Da said as he pulled away and started walking toward a hut that was nestled close to a rather large fire.

  “How, ah, do you make fire? And, um, build stuff?” I asked as my finger pointed first to the flames and then the huts.

  “We utilize the land,” Da said with a heavy voice. As we stepped through his doorway, I could see the granules from the dust that made up the frame. In the center of the room was a small fire that illuminated the modest hut.

  “Lilith...” I drawled as I understood the structures were made from the dead, as was the fuel of the fire. My eyes went to Da and he stared back with a blank expression, apparently having made peace with the fact long ago. I turned to Dawson, who broke eye contact and instead looked at the ground.

  “These lost souls,” Da began, running a hand reverently over a support beam, “have reverted back to one of the basic building blocks that the entire universe is comprised of. We honor their memory and thank them for providing for those who remain.”

  “I understand,” I admitted both to them and myself. “We do what we must with what we have.”

  “We use the structures to house the lost, which we find more of every day. The fires allow them to see one another and even speak. It gives them hope, which allows their souls to carry on.”

  I thought about the first body I had come across, and a shudder rippled up my spine, causing my arms to slightly flail out. I shook my head, dispelling the feeling.

  “How many have you saved?” I asked, unable to help myself.

  “Countless. I’ve been doing this, as best as I can estimate, for three hundred and eight years. Give or take a decade.”

  “Three hun...dred...” I stumbled over the words as my brain registered the time. I became dizzy and had to catch myself from falling over.

  “Time in Sheol is to Hell what Hell is to Earth.”

  “Oh shit,” I said around a sigh as I clenched my eyes shut while a thought coalesced in my mind. “Inverse Inception rules?”

  “I knew you’d make that reference,” Da said with a smile. “And yes, without the armor to negate time dilation between planes, the clock moves faster in Hell than on Ear
th, and even faster still in Sheol.”

  “Why does that feel like it was done on purpose as the icing on the torture cake?” I asked no one in particular as I placed my hands on my hips and let my gaze drift to the ground. Something Baleius said came to the forefront of my thoughts, shoving everything else aside, and I looked at Da and asked, “Michael?”

  “Ah, I see you’ve learned some new truths.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call them new, Da.”

  “New to you, I mean.”

  “So it’s true? About Michael, I mean.”

  “Perhaps you should regale me with the version of the story you have heard,” Da said as he pulled up a chair. He motioned across from him and I turned to see another seat made of the same materials as everything else. We sat on opposite sides of the small fire.

  Taking a seat, I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and slowly began rubbing my palms together as I looked at the floor. My mind played out what Baleius had shared with me, and I conveyed the conversation to Da and Dawson.

  “Baleius told me that before the Long Fall, the angels that followed Samael only wanted to be loved as much as the humans. When they went to confront God, Michael met them and drew arms against his brothers with his army behind him. Baleius said they didn’t want to fight, but had to defend themselves. After it was apparent that Michael was going to kill every last one of them for taking sides against their Father, they surrendered and were stripped of their armor and cast to Hell.” My eyes lifted from the ground to lock onto Da’s, who seemed intent on my story. “He then said Michael commanded them to torture the souls of the damned and gave them a hunger that could only be sated with suffering. In doing so, the Fallen morphed into the hideous demons of today.”

  As I finished my story, Da leaned back in his chair, pursed his lips, and brought his index finger to rest on them in a gesture that suggested he was deep in thought.

  “What, ah, what do you think, man?” I asked, almost scared of the answer. On one hand, I wanted it to be true so I could reward the trust I had bestowed on Baleius. On the other, I was scared that an archangel of Heaven could have that much power.

  Da dropped his hand to his lap as he spoke, “I think there are always two sides to every story. You have heard them both, one from the Bible and the other from a demon of Hell, and the truth is, honestly, probably somewhere in the middle.”

  “Wow. I, ah, didn’t expect you to take credibility away from the Bible and give it to a demon.”

  “I can say that Michael had a lot more to do with the writing of that book than was let on. He pulled strings and gave orders to his brothers who, in turn, whispered into the ears of man. If I recall, Michael only speaks in the pages a total of four words.”

  “History is written by the winners,” I said in a flat tone as I understood what Da was saying.

  “Exactly my point, dear boy,” Da confirmed while stabbing the air with his index finger pointed in my direction.

  “So the Bible says that Samael—I assume I can say his name down here without fear?” Da nodded. “So it says he was the one to bring arms against his brothers because they were jealous of God’s love for the humans?”

  “Close enough,” Da replied with a nod that urged me to continue my train of thought.

  “But Baleius, who was there, says they only wanted to talk to their Dad and that they simply desired to be loved. Michael was the one who drew the first sword and declared them traitors.”

  Da and Dawson stared at me as my mind churned with thoughts.

  “Da, why didn’t they feel loved?” I asked the question that my heart wanted to know and that my brain hadn’t even considered.

  “Ah, now there’s the million-dollar question,” Da articulated while leaning back in his chair and slapping his knees with his palms.

  I waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, I bulged my eyes for a second and leaned my head forward in a motion that said, “Well?”

  “That is not my story to tell, John. But I am most confident you will learn the truth, in time.”

  “Bah! Bah, I says to you!” I blurted as I leaned back in my own chair, dragging my hands up my thighs to rest on my pelvis. Another question came to mind and I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees again. “Hey, you were there when it all happened, right? Can you share your perspective on why everything went down the way it did in Heaven? I’m just sort of trying to piece the whole story together. Something isn’t adding up from either side.”

  “You mean how Father created Samael to help birth the universe, angels, and eventually mankind, and then let him be cast out, banished from the light of the universe he had helped create?” Da asked with a knowing smile.

  “Ye...yeah,” I drawled, unsure of what to say. Baleius had left that part out, maybe not wanting to—for lack of a better word—humanize the Devil. Especially when I was supposed to be his prophetical nemesis.

  Da took in a deep breath.

  “You’ll take note that Michael left that tiny part—about Samael aiding in the creation of creation—out of the Bible.” Da’s smile was now somewhat pained at the mention of the Archangel Michael. “Samael was the first of us and God’s most beloved son. Where Father was logical, like an engineer, my brother was emotional, similar to an artist. He made the yang to Father’s yin. Father saw impossible calculations, geometrical patterns, and complex formulas, while Samael saw beautiful colors that made him weep, organic shapes that didn’t fit predefined rules, and went with his heart rather than his head. My brother was all chaos to Father’s organized process.”

  “I imagine that would have been tough to work with, for both sides.”

  “Oh, you have no idea,” Da said around a chuckle.

  “Father held the entire universe in his hands, and was about to—oh, what do people say—go live and just blink everything into existence when Samael convinced him to let it happen organically. Placing his own hand over Father’s, Samael snuck in a few subtle, last-minute changes and then touched his palm to God’s, creating the Big Bang which gave birth to creation.” Da’s fists burst open with wide, waving fingers, showcasing the explosion. “At least that’s what Father himself told us before he went quiet.”

  I knew there was more to the story, so I continued to listen, leaning back and crossing one arm over my chest while the other inattentively stroked my thick beard.

  “It didn’t take long for Samael to convince Father to create life while the universe continued to expand. He suggested they take a mixture of both of their personalities and create brothers for Samael, but at random. Let chance and chaos do what they will so that there might be variety among the family. God did just that, getting better the more he created. Every angel was randomly placed on a spectrum between Father and Samael, with most landing more to one side or the other. Very few landed directly in the middle, and I’ll give you two guesses as to who you might know that fell into that category.”

  “Val,” I drawled as my hand froze while holding a fistful of my beard.

  Da nodded with a smile of delight, as if he had been keeping that secret to himself for so very long.

  “And...and you?” I thought back to Val being so distraught at losing his brother Raziel.

  “Well, close enough anyway,” Da corrected as he straightened in his chair and broke eye contact for a moment before returning his gaze to mine.

  Da continued.

  “Father created so many of my brothers, and they all wanted his affection, like any child would. Keep in mind that dear old Dad had the personality of an engineer, and as such, didn’t know how to cope with the influx of demand from him. Without consulting Samael, he created the archangels, who were each in charge of various aspects of Father’s day to day. Gabriel was a messenger, while Michael began sorting the angels; he was always a natural leader, that one,” Da said with a wry grin, suggesting the compliment was more of the backhanded variety.

  “What about Bubba?” I asked, thumbing over my shoulder
to the outside.

  “Uriel actually helped form the stars. He was one of those who were closer to the middle of the spectrum, and could see both the science and the art of the universe. After man came into being, he even showed the early incarnations how to make fire.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I exhaled as I removed my beanie and ran a hand through my black hair.

  “No, he comes later,” Da joked.

  “I...I freaking killed Uriel, who helped give the universe life by creating the stars?” I felt sick to my stomach and utterly ashamed.

  “You did, but know this, without Uriel here now, we wouldn’t have been able to save all those people out there.”

  I scrunched up my face and tilted my head as Da let his index finger point to the sky and then slowly fall to the floor between us. My eyes dropped to the fire, and I understood what he was getting at.

  “You’re saying...I was supposed to kill Uriel?” I asked with a dry mouth, not liking the implications.

  “Everything will make sense to you, one day,” he repeated his phrase from earlier and I squinted my eyes at him, not liking the intentional withholding of information. But I also trusted my friend and mentor. He had never steered me wrong.

  I expanded on my question from earlier.

  “Hey, if Samael was even a fraction as powerful as God, how was Michael able to defeat him?”

  “Father made the archangels just as powerful as Samael. To him, it just made logical sense to have his specialists be as strong as the first he had needed.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, replacing my beanie and leaning forward again.

  “Father had the cognitive wherewithal to understand he needed a different perspective in order to create a functioning universe. Have you ever heard the old joke about mechanics absolutely hating engineers because of the odd designs they create?”

  “Heh, yeah. I’ve heard of wheels needing to be removed to change a simple battery, or an entire engine having to be craned out to get to the transmission.”

  “Precisely my point! Though the vehicles work, they are not practical in regard to maintenance. Engineers don’t understand why mechanics complain because they have to design an entire vehicle and make the parts work. Mechanics don’t understand why they don’t put certain pieces in easily accessible positions.”