Holy Sheoly

by Hunter Blain

  I was stunned by his words, but brought myself out of it to catch up with my friend.

  We approached a clearing with a huge fire encircling it. People were gathered all around, as was the archangel that had given light to the universe, Uriel.

  “What’s this?” I asked, looking around at the mix of healthy and decomposed faces.

  “They wanted to see the Flame Bringer off,” Da said with a smile.

  “Why? Where is Uriel going?” I jested as I looked at Bubba, who responded by crossing his arms and glaring at me.

  “You, John. You brought thousands hope when you tirelessly carried the flaming gladius.” Da placed a hand on my shoulder and gestured around at the faces that seemed to nod in appreciation.

  “So this is it?” I asked, feeling my throat constrict. I was afraid to ask what was on my mind, but I forced myself. “You...you aren’t coming with me, are you?” I inquired just above a whisper.

  “They need me here, John,” Da said softly.

  The lump in my throat leaped to my face and spilled tears down my cheeks.

  “Please,” I croaked, all of a sudden ashamed at my selfishness. Da stepped closer and I turned to embrace my friend, my mentor, my guiding light, my guardian angel.

  “Don’t worry. You aren’t going alone.”

  I pulled back, confused, and wiped the snot from my mustache.

  Da turned to look at Dawson, who had just walked up to the circle with his hands in his pockets.

  “What?” he asked while looking back and forth between Da and me.

  Da stepped away from me and toward Dawson, who continued to shift his gaze between us.

  “Dawson, it’s time to go home.”

  “What?” Dawson asked, taking a step back while yanking his hands from his pockets. “No! I like it here. I’m helping people!”

  “You have been through enough, my friend, and deserve to be with your brother and your parents.”

  Dawson’s eyes welled as a Rolodex of emotions flittered across his face. Anger was replaced by confusion before being swallowed by sorrow.

  “John came here, for you. He risked everything, for you.”

  “Well, you too,” I added, still on the kick about not lying anymore.

  “Quiet. You aren’t helping,” Da replied warmly with an upturned quirk of his lips.

  “I’ve been here for so long,” Dawson whispered. “I don’t know if I can leave you guys.”

  “Which is why you deserve to be free. You have sacrificed so much for these people. Now it’s your turn to rest.”

  Dawson broke down and wrapped his thick arms around the slender Da, who returned the embrace.

  “Ah, not to be a buzzkill,” I started with an index finger pointed to the sky while leaning forward, “But, um, how are we even gonna get outta here?”

  Da pulled back from Dawson, wiped the tears from the were’s face like a proud parent, and then returned to his spot in the circle.

  “Uriel,” Da called out.

  Without missing a beat, Uriel stepped forward and around the fire to approach us. I noticed in the ample light of the flames that he had scars crisscrossing his huge forearms, and even some on his face. His knuckles also looked like what you’d expect a professional boxer’s to resemble after a lengthy career.

  “You defend them,” I whispered in a statement as I saw the giant in a new light, both literally and figuratively.

  “I do what I must to protect the innocent,” Uriel confirmed with a voice reserved for a superhero.

  An idea came to mind that felt right. My brain didn’t even protest the notion as the idea formed, giving it the space it deserved and letting it grow unmolested.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the nail of Christ. I opened my hand, palm up, and looked at the weapon against darkness.

  Still on autopilot, I pushed my palm up and toward Uriel, who looked down at my offering. His eyes flicked to lock onto mine, and I swear I saw them soften around the edges.

  With a slight bow of the head in respect, he reached down with his massive hand and picked up the nine-inch nail. He hefted it in his palm a few times, testing the weight, and then shot his fist toward the sky.

  An enormous gladius burst to life covered in heavenflame, the tip pointed skyward. A truly awe-inspiring torrent of beautiful fire shot into the sky for what had to be at least a mile.

  “Whoa. He’s waaaaay better at that than I am,” I confessed to the air as countless silver eyes followed the flames. I knew, then, that Uriel would use the weapon to not only protect his flock, but find countless more souls and provide them with the hope to carry on.

  I felt a familiar warm hand rest on my shoulder, and I turned to see Da smiling at me approvingly.

  Uriel let the flames diminish to a steady flicker over the extended sword that he held at his side.

  “You two ready?” Uriel asked in a much nicer tone than I was accustomed to from the one I had dubbed Bubba.

  I turned to Dawson, who seemed apprehensive, and asked, “What do you say, dude? Wanna go get Joey with me?”

  At the mention of saving his brother, Dawson’s resolve hardened and he tightened his jaw as he stepped forward.

  “So, ah, how do we do this?” I asked Da, truly curious.

  “I can feel the spark of life inside you, John. You are the only being in Sheol that is not dead,” Uriel elaborated before slicing at the air next to him with the gladius, creating a hole to the in-between. “I, the Archangel of Light, can grab ahold of that spark and return you to your body. But first, we must step into the place between planes so that I might send you through the doorway.”

  “Two things: A) Can you call it the Spark of Unlife? It’s a continuity thing. And 2) What about Dawson?” I asked, thumbing toward my friend who seemed just as curious as me. “I mean, his soul was killed, right?”

  “Buckle your seat belt,” Da joked.

  “Huh?” Dawson and I said in unison before I caught on.

  “Ah, got ya. Come here, dude.” Dawson stepped to me and I grabbed him by his meaty shoulders and spun him around before bending at the knees and wrapping my arms under his armpits. I grabbed both of my wrists with my hands and straightened my legs, bouncing a few times to make sure he was tight...or because it was funny. I’ll let you decide.

  “Hey, cut it out!” Dawson cried out as he grabbed onto my arms for stability.

  I was reminded of flying through the Mexican sky with Joey, and I felt an immediate determination to get on with the mission. JoJo needed our help.

  Stepping through the hole and into the in-between, I announced, “Ready.”

  Uriel stepped through after us, stuck a hand out to point at me, and then grabbed at the air. I felt something wrap around the inside of my chest—which felt weird, let me tell you—and Bubba lifted his arm upward.

  My feet came off the ground and I cried out with an echoing, “Whoa!” as I kicked the air nervously. After a few seconds, I forced myself to relax and looked back down at the camp. I saw my friend and mentor step through to see us off on our journey.

  “I love you, Da!” I said as my feet passed over the roofs of the huts. I realized I had never said that to my friend of so many years, and it felt good to get it out.

  “I love you too, John,” Da beamed, knowing I always had, but had never said it aloud.

  He then said something that made me want to sob again.

  “Remember, I won’t always be here, but I’ll always be with you.” I heard his voice inside my head without the echo of the in-between, and I looked down to see his mouth hadn’t moved.

  A single tear leaped from my face to land on Da’s forehead. His smile grew even wider as he waved a heartfelt goodbye.

  16

  The camp grew further away, allowing me to see just how truly impressive the haven was. I could tell by the geometrical patterns from the fires that there had to be hundreds of thousands, if not millions of huts for as far as the eye could see. A part of my mind also
marveled at the fact the in-between held a still image of the world I had just left with every visit.

  “Wow,” I exhaled in awe. “You guys built all of that?”

  “Da and Uriel did.”

  “You helped though, right?”

  “It took them a while to find me. I had already begun falling apart when I saw the glows approaching. But I’ve been helping them ever since.”

  “You did good, man,” I praised. Dawson didn’t say anything in return. I think he was just as bad as I was at accepting compliments from people.

  After a few minutes, I could only see the weak glow from the huge bonfire at the center of the camp. Another few minutes, and it, too, was gone.

  I shifted my gaze up and felt more than saw that we were coming up to a barrier.

  “Wait,” I cried out. “I came through the River Styx to get down here!”

  “And?”

  “Dude! The river is made of lava!”

  “Oh shit. Um, how did you get through?”

  “I had Baleius create a manifestation for me.”

  “Who’s Baleius?”

  “That’s not the thing to focus on!” I shrieked, almost losing my grip on Dawson.

  “Whoa, dude! Don’t let me drop, okay?”

  “That’d be a better way to go! Trust me, I’ve seen people eaten by that damn thing!”

  “Dude,” Dawson said in a voice that urged me to calm down. “Uriel and Da wouldn’t send us to our deaths, alright? Have a little faith.”

  “Faith. Yeah,” I breathed out in a high pitch. Eyes shot up to see the invisible barrier drawing closer. Well, I said invisible, but it was more like a smooth, flowing body of liquid comprised of the darkest ink. Looking around, I realized it was the sky.

  “Eeeeeeeh,” I calmly whined as we pushed first into, and then through, the surface of the abyss. I slammed my eyes shut and sucked in a quick breath. It was warm and poured into every crevice. I continued to hold my breath before remembering I didn’t need to breathe.

  The feeling of passing from water into something more substantial came over me, like being pushed through a ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese. I mean, not that. Pfft. I don’t know what that feels like. Never even been to that, ah, kids place that is definitely for kids and not adults...unless, maybe, the adult can hypnotize and cast glamours.

  Record scratch. Cut scene to an innocent-looking child in a gray beanie maniacally running around the chutes and ladders at Chuck E. Cheese, all while screaming at the slow-moving kids with a voice that seemed much too mature for such a small child. The same odd boy could be heard from across the restaurant as he bellowed a gleeful, “Wheeeeeeeee!” down the big yellow slide and into the ball pit, all before bursting through the surface and roaring, “Fuck yeah!”

  Heh, good times indeed. But where was I? Ah right, lifting through the ball pit of the inky in-between for Sheol and Hell. Neat.

  I dared to squint open one of my eyes and saw nothing. Then my head broke through the surface of the lava, followed by the rest of my body, and I was left standing at the edge of the dock still clutching Dawson.

  Confusion got the better of me and I arched both eyebrows as I looked down at my skin, which was glowing with a shield comprised of light, courtesy of the Archangel Uriel.

  As I watched, the shield evaporated into a mist, as did the feeling clutching at the center of my chest.

  “Cool trick,” Dawson said before seeing our awaiting guests. “Whoa! There’s two yous!”

  “John!” Baleius cried out in relief.

  “Sup,” I said coolly with a voice that most assuredly did not tremble even in the slightest. I was still holding onto my friend, unconsciously terrified to let him go while in Hell.

  “I see you’ve achieved your goal,” Baleius congratulated while gesturing toward Dawson. “But where’s Da?”

  “He, ah...” I began, letting my gaze fall to the floor with a pained expression, “he chose to stay behind and help the lost souls of Sheol.”

  “That sounds like my brother alright,” Baleius said with a smile brimming with pride.

  “You’ve been gone for almost two days!” Silver pounced after witnessing the reunion, rubbing his eyes and gritting his teeth as if he had no outlet for his building frustration. I was confident he blamed me for the, no doubt, stressful passage of time.

  “Well, hello to you as well, cutie pie. And two days? I was gone at least eight or nine, as best as I can figure.”

  Baleius and I locked eyes while making faces that said, “I know what happened.”

  “Time dilation,” we said in unison.

  “Right, I didn’t have the armor downstairs,” I said to the group. “Lilith, what the Hell have you guys been doing on the dock for almost two days? Eh? See what I did there? Hell...?”

  Silver rubbed at the bridge of his nose, tilting his face up and letting out a groan while Baleius smiled at me, appreciating my joke. Glad someone did.

  “Silver and I got to know one another. He’s actually not a bad guy, was just put in a shitty circumstance and made some decisions while in the heat of emotion. I think you can understand that, John,” Baleius informed as Dawson struggled to get down, no longer wanting me to hold him for some reason. I thought it was manly to hold your friends in a tight embrace.

  “So, what? He’s on the team now?” I asked, letting the were down.

  Dawson yelped in surprise and we all looked to see his soul glowing as it began lifting upward. It was just like when I had freed his soul, just before...

  “No! I’m not ready to go!” Dawson struggled in the air, trying to grab the walls.

  On instinct, I gave a small jump and grabbed ahold of his hand, pulling him back down.

  “Hey, look!” I said to the group, “I have my own Dawson balloon!”

  My mind flashed to Bruce in the cemetery, and I replayed the story about the child and the balloon.

  “My balloon! It slipped and I can’t get it! Can you help me get it?” the boy asked with an innocent heart.

  “I can’t do that,” said the old man.

  “Why not?” asked the small child, who didn’t understand why no one was helping him.

  “Because if I get him for you now, he won’t get to do what balloons must.”

  “What’s that?” asked the boy, excited to learn a secret about his best friend.

  “Fly,” said the old man. “Right now, he’s on a journey that you can’t even begin to imagine, having the time of his life.”

  Wide eyes drifted to Dawson, and I understood what I needed to do.

  “John?” Dawson asked with a voice verging on helplessness, sensing something was wrong. I was the only thing holding him down in Hell, where he didn’t belong.

  “I...I think I need to let you go, man,” I said just above a whisper, knowing what I must do but lacking the conviction.

  “No! I need to find Joey first!” he begged, grabbing my wrist tightly with both hands.

  “I can’t explain it to you,” I droned as if in a trance, deep in thought, “But it’s something I gotta do.”

  My hand opened, leaving Dawson tethered to Hell by his own grip.

  “No! Please!” Dawson shrieked, so selfless in his desire to save his brother from the torment he himself had endured that he was willing to forgo literal Heaven and all the bliss therein.

  I reached up with my free hand and grabbed one of his thumbs, prying his grip apart and pulling his hand away from my wrist.

  “John! What are you doing?! I need to find my brother!” Dawson begged with tears in his eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s safe for you,” I said as if in a dream as I twisted my hand, snaking it around Dawson’s forearm, and pulled my wrist free. Now the only thing holding him down was my grip. “Don’t be scared,” I told him softly, taking power away from the two words that had broken me so many times. “Hug your parents tight when you get up there, okay?”

  I flung my hands open and Dawson began floating towa
rd the ceiling. He looked at me with a hurt expression that was outlined in understanding. I knew he trusted me to make sure Joey ended up in Heaven.

  Knowing how my own soul was now weighed down with the horrific sin of murdering an innocent child—wet tears rolled down rosy cheeks—I called out, “Tell my parents I love them!”

  Then he was gone, safely out of Hell and heading toward his mom and dad.

  As I watched him disappear, I imagined my own soul being latched onto obsidian anchors with hooks that pierced my flesh and dragged me further into the abyss.

  “Papa?” a young boy’s voice called out from the tunnel, breaking me from my self-pity.

  Silver inhaled sharply as we all shot our gazes into the darkness.

  I immediately recognized the silhouette of the boy in the snow. A coat that was made for a man dragged on the floor behind him as Benji Silver stepped into the sharp light cast by the River Styx. The sleeves of the coat hung down to his knees, hiding what we all knew wasn’t there.

  “Be-Benji?” Silver croaked as a hand covered his gaping mouth. The space between his eyebrows quivered as his breaths came in shallow, ragged waves.

  “That’s not him,” Baleius croaked, taking a step back. Behind where we stood, the River Styx churned and bubbled, eager to taste our souls. I was reminded then that without the armor, I was subjected to the full impact of the air that nearly boiled above the lava, making my lungs ache.

  I followed Baleius’ movements onto the dock and backed away from the child that was shuffling forward.

  “Silver!” I hissed in warning, “Get back!”

  Silver took a step forward with his hands outstretched to his boy. Benji lifted his arms to embrace his father, revealing tattered flesh where hands should be when the sleeves rolled up.

  The closer he walked to the entrance of the tunnel, the more light from the river illuminated the boy. His skin was as pale as virgin snow and his lips were the blue of death. His eyes were milky white, with only the faintest outline of the pupils.

  Silver dropped to his knees and wrapped his trembling arms around the boy, sobbing incoherently into his neck. A hand stroked his hair over and over as the other one pulled Benji in tight.