You are on page 1of 175

AWAKE O ZION!

By William Gilbert
Contents

Veins of Visions

Broken Empty Walls

I’m Invincible

Insanity Insured

A Revolution Of Worlds

The Transformation

Death With Excitement

Apollo’s Arrows

The Conference & The

Giving

Science Reborn

Heroes Are Never The Villains

“Your Weapon Shall Be Me”

Epilogue: The Angelic Romance

The Poems of the Apocalypse

Or Zion's Ending
VEINS OF VISIONS

I sat there in my car waiting for nothing. I waited for the blue sky to set. I waited for

everything and nothing to pass, stay by, or come to me. I had all the time in the world.

But, yet, I had no time. I had to do things as fast as I could. I tried to look busy. But,

really, I was bored to death. I wanted to get out of the car, run down the street, and wait

for real things. I decided to sit there and stare at this artificial world that was staring

straight back at me.

I read the paper. There were stories about people who were heroes or people who

were villains. I read about the lies the government was feeding us about the war in Iraq or

wherever we are fighting these days. I could smell cigarettes on the clothes of some of the

kids that walked by. They were all teenagers. They were just like I was.

I was fidgety and anxious. I was waiting while every moment a second passed by

that could’ve been useful or productive. Of course, I didn’t care about it. The people who

walked on passed me were saying something about a party. I zoned out and kept on

reading about the political crap saying how we were winning the war on terror, when,

honestly, the war on terror has always existed. Winning it is like completely getting rid of

drugs or underage drinking. It will never, ever happen.

At this moment, I was actually spinning at Sixty-seven thousand miles per hour.

The planet I was on was spinning around a giant ball of hydrogen. There were two

spinning planets in front of me. In the back, there were five planets. In between the one
behind me and my planet there was this thing called an asteroid belt.

And, this formation of planets, otherwise known as a solar system, includes ones

of millions and millions and millions of stars inside this place called the Milky Way. Just

like myself, my planet, seven other planets, and a giant ball of hydrogen this galaxy was

spinning. But, very slowly, it was being ripped apart by an absent void slap dab in the

middle of the galaxy. This ‘void’ was once a star, five-hundred times bigger than the one

at the middle of my formation of planets, and this star had once gotten so large its mass

built up, released all of its energy and caved in. Of course, this caving in had left a giant

gap in middle of our galaxy. Modern-day scientists, especially Stephen Hawking, have

tried to understand these holes in space. Some people actually think these ‘black holes’

might be wormhole's, or passageways, to another universe. Not only does it seem

impossible these holes exist, it just seems insane to believe it does. As insane as it is to

believe in God? According to a modern-day scientist, it is not.

Our galaxy was falling into this pit and kept falling. See, not even light could

escape this absent void. Don’t worry though, I still had fifteen-billion years until my giant

ball of iron and copper would be swallowed by nothing. This galaxy was one of

quadrillions of galaxies in our universe. But, the funny thing about our galaxy, our solar

system, our ball of iron and copper, is we are the only place in the whole universe that

sustains any life whatsoever. Is this a coincidence, irony, or luck?

See, this universe seems like it will never end. It seems like it expands a thousand

miles every second. No, it is not expanding. No, it will not reverse, like most scientist

hypothesize. After this universe, lives there lies the gates of Heaven. There lies the guards

of hell waiting for their new victims. Of course, a scientist will most likely deny all of
this. Well, that is, except for the facts about space.

I turned the ignition and decided not to wait for nothing. I was running at my fate.

Whatever, wherever, or whenever that was. My wheels turned slowly and I tried to get

into the speeding traffic. Little bits and pieces of broken cars from past accident and

wrecks were lying all over the street. My eyes would glimpse at every single piece my car

went by. A fragment of a bumper, a muffler, and a couple of license plates. I had to keep

my eye on the road. Other cars would help me create more debris. The radio played a soft

song, then rap, then something from the eighties. I decided to let it stay there.

My ride felt like it was lasting forever. Every stop light felt like I was waiting

there for two to three hours when it was actually two to three minutes. People at stop

signs would not let me go when it was my right of way. Every time I would sit there

waiting for something. Waiting for nothing. Waiting for everything.

A sharp pain was filling up in my lungs. Slowly, this sting would become worse

during the day. But, it was temporary, nothing to worry about at all. My hands tightened

on the steering wheel as I went from light to light. From driving to waiting. Waiting to

driving. I felt speed around me. I saw the cars going faster than the law said to go. They

were driving recklessly, probably drunk.

The pain in my side began to worsen. Slowly, it started to fill my entire body.

Then a headache came to me without reason. I realized what was about to happen, I didn’t

want it to happen. But, it did anyways. The whispers came. Soft, malicious whispers that I

despised and hated with a passion. It meant horror and pain. Mostly, it met passing out

and hurting myself terribly.

Because of my headache, I pressed the gas faster and found the corner to my
neighbor hood. My head felt like it was going to explode. The temple above my left eye

was throbbing painfully. I couldn’t see anything at all except these things. Cruel, harsh

laughter was coming into my ears. There were beasts and monsters running around the

place. They made ear-splitting noises. The things had long tentacles and beaks. Their

bodies were scaly and feathery. Some of the creatures looked like their epidermal layers

were made of leather. A couple didn’t even have skins. The bodies were grotesque and

made completely out of muscle.

I covered my ears but the only thing that happened was the screeching become

louder. I squeezed my eyes shut and the things only became more vivid. A face was

creeping up close to me. I could feel nothing but terror, and my heart was thumping

furiously. My breathing was oddly disheveled. In a minute, I was on the ground trying to

hide. I couldn’t. I could feel leathery, feathery, muscled, and scaly fingers grasp my arms

then my legs. I wiggled and squirmed out of their hands. I could hear the slushy, cracking,

and ruffled sound of their feet or tentacles, hitting the concrete. I screamed even louder. I

could hear my scream outside of my body. I hated it. I turned the corner to my

neighborhood. The monsters chased me down the street as I sprinted towards the door of

my shelter.

The faster I ran the louder the steps became. Nothing seemed to suffice. No matter

where I turned or where I ran, they were always close behind me. I desired to get away.

But, I couldn’t. They wouldn’t let me. Finally, I reached my destination: my home.

I slammed the door to my house shut - but still heard voices.. But, they were not

the horrifying and treacherous screeches. They were metallic, and sort of kind voices. I

had heard these before. They were saying nothing in particular. They were reciting
random parts of different poems and stories. I had ditched the monsters and I was safe

inside my house. Not alone maybe - but, with kinder company.

My house was cold and dark, as usual. I stretched out on my couch and dreamt

about trees and forests. There were people in them. People I had never seen before. I was

scared to ask who they were. I was scared to come up close to them and ask how they

were doing. I had seen them before of course. It was my dream, so I must’ve created them

somewhere, somehow. I started to sweat and began panicking. I fell to the floor and

started shaking viciously. My hands were pounding against the floor while my legs swung

from side to side. My waist rotated and my head tilted back. My eyes rolled back into my

socket. A man called for help. A girl walked up. She was incredibly beautiful. I had never

seen here before. But, yet I knew her somehow. I had created her. She held me down and

brushed my hair back. She moved her hair out of her eyes and kissed me on the lips. Her

lips were soft and gentle.

The couch was covered in sweat and the sharp pain inside my stomach worsened.

I vomited into the trash next to me. I rolled over and cried. I sat there for what seemed

like hours. I only listened to the voices of my house. Or my head. Wherever they are

from.

The pancakes I made tasted obscure. I couldn’t put my finger on it but they were different

from what I would have regularly made for breakfast. I might have put something in them

that was too old or too new. Maybe, I cooked them just right for once. The coffee was no

different from any other day that I would have made it. I’ve gone the last four years

having Kenya coffee. And everyday I wake up feeling fine. It is the aftermath that tortures
me.

It was a bright and sunny day. The clouds were only in position where the sun

could only shine more. But, oddly, the heat was cool. It must have been something like

sixty-one to sixty-five in Massachusetts . It doesn’t get very hot around here. I could hear

the cars humming absentmindedly down the street. I felt as if the world was dead to me. I

didn’t care that I would sit here all day sleeping and hearing those metallic voices. It was

a three day weekend. I was able to escape from my job. I’m an English teacher at a High

School. The kids seem to love me more than any other teacher at the school. Their not

bashful or embarrassed when they are caught talking to me at football or basketball.

Personally, I hate those sports events. I only go to hear the voices better.

The tutor for one of my favorite students is the greatest employee at the school.

She’s become my best friend. She’s the only one I trust with my ‘condition.’ She’s the

only one who knows I’m not lying or trying to get attention. She thinks I’m sane. It may

be something in my brain is dysfunctional. Apparently, it can be repaired by surgeons,

it’ll just cost a very, very ridiculously large sum of money. Something I can’t afford

unless I sell every single thing I own. I am slowly falling in love with this tutor.

This girl is considerably shorter than me. That’s what I love about her. She has

beautiful, brown hair flowing over her shoulders. Her skin looks soft and her voice rings

identically to an angels.

I can see why the students hate the other teachers. They have this little click-like

things. I enjoy the students more. Their humor is more appealing and friendly. I

remember when I was in high school everyone was so clique and the teachers would

always talk to you. No the students don’t care who I am. They love me, but the teachers
hate me. It’s most likely because of my age or my unique appearance. The whole hoodie

and jeans instead of tucked in shirt and khaki-pants seems to turn them off. The long hair

seems to be not too satisfying with the elders. I’m twenty-nine, not forty-nine.

There was an itch in my leg. Then tiny little spots of these itches were appearing

all over my body. My legs, my head, my back, they appeared everywhere they could.

Then they were gone. It was so strange how they had come and gone so quickly. It was

basically magic.

I sat for a while against the chair and held the brush in my hands, thinking of what

to create. Maybe a landscape from space or the nightmare from before. I spun the tip in

my hands and stared at the end of it, running the bristles through my fingertips. The

canvas beside me sat there white, waiting while no inspiration came. I had to paint, had to

think of something to put on this canvas. I slowly moved my brush up and down. The

canvas was on the carpet, laying horizontally. I was on my knees, my torso hunched over

the 2’ X 1½’ void. The red paint was moving up and down while my brain worked

quickly. I had no idea what was being painted. I just let my arm flow the way it should.

No such thing as inspiration existed within me. Nothing came to my mind. I sat

with the brush in my hand, think of what my Muse wanted me to paint. But, I came to the

conclusion that my Muse was either dead or napping. He completely ignored the fact that

I existed. Never wanted to pay any attention to me when art was being attempted. But, I

knew my soul would give me something to create. I knew something deep within me

would let paint pour onto the canvas.

My mind was a prisoner to my brain, my arm was a slave to my nervous system

which was in bondage to my spinal chord. All led straight back up to one place: the
electrical wiring inside my brain, which functioned because of my heart. My fingers

would slips through the wet paints. But I did it so suddenly that no paint was smudged

and none dripped onto my fingers. My arm kept moving in shapes and twists and repeated

lines. My brain sent signals quickly to my arms. My eyes soaked in the movement of the

brush against the canvas and then back to the paint bucket. It never looked at the picture

itself. Not even imagining, or thinking what this artistic visualization could be. Only my

electrical wiring could know. And, of course, the brush knew it too.

I could smell the thick paint. There were stains on the carpet. The carpet itself

made an abstract image. Abstract art is a form of stupidity. But, accidental art is beautiful.

I backed away from my horizontal image. It was a black-beaked bird and with its eyelids

sown together. I could hear the cries it was made with its beak. The background was a

dark, magnificent red that gave a malicious, and murderous vibe. I could sense terror and

pain in it. I could hear voices in the background singing songs of death. If it took them

over, then it would have to soon take me over.

I covered the canvas with a towel and set it up on an easel so I could see it as if a

‘real’ artist would’ve painted it. There was a perfect square in the middle of the carpet

mess. These splotches were crowded, and there was the perfect square. There were no

death chants, or screeches with this painting. There was only the silence of beauty and

perfect. I took a photograph of it and then set the camera down. I washed my hands and

changed shirts, keeping the paint-stained pants on. I still smelled like paint and brushes

but I didn’t look like it. I had been there for three hours when I looked on the clock. The

weird thing is that my accident, the thing that even my electrical wiring in my brain didn’t

even know was going to happen, was more beautiful than the planned art, the one that my
brain did know what was going to happen.

A raindrop hit my classroom window. One heavy drop after another. The noise was very

distracting from my work. I couldn’t think thoroughly through any thought. The temple

above my left eye would started throbbing painfully again and I had to sit down. The

students were concerned. They had seen me like this a couple times before. They didn’t

know that I was actually hearing voices. They were the same cackles in which I

previously heard in the parking lot.

The room started to spin at the speed of a rocket ship. Everything was a blur. I felt

sweat on the back of my neck and my lungs filled immensely with oxygen. In the

background of my lungs was that annoying little sharp pain appeared again.

“Work on your essays, please.”

I held my side and drank part of my water. They all obeyed and started writing. In

the empty seat in the back a man was sitting there. He wasn’t a student. He was in a black

suit and a top hat. He had a fake smile upon his face and a circus master mustache. He

had long, slender legs which looked like they would never end. He stared at me and I felt

a coldness inside of my stomach grow. He smiled and turned his head to the door, looking

at the people out side.

He stood up. The man was an enormous size of six-foot four. He started waltzing

around the room. He was trying to stare at peoples’ papers and looked at the books on my

bookshelf. I was watching him with all my effort. He walked up to the desk and looked

me in the eyes, placed both hands on the edge of the desk, and leaned down to whisper

something in my ear. Instead of being a handsome man, he had now become grotesque
and ugly.

“Hear that Gerard? Hear those voices whispering to you? I can command them to

do anything. Who are ‘they’? Their whatever I want them to be.. They could be

monster’s, birds, crocodiles, and even fish. They’ll ruin your life or make it so

much better. It just depends on what I’m feeling like that particular day.

“I’ve been watching you your whole life and you’ve become a very, very

intelligent being. You know most things about English and movies, and other subjects,

that most professors won’t even learn. Your flaw, though, is that you want to stay at a

regular position. You want to be ‘normal’ and ‘regular.’ Not some incoherent rich snob

that cares only about money. Well, I am here to tell you that I can help you with your

flaws. People will bow to your name.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the king of your needs. I am the voice your hear at night and the invisible

face. I am the all-knowing. I am the creator and the destroyer. I am the healer. I am all. I

am perfect in every way possible.

“Why, sir, I am the Beautiful One!.”

“Oh,” He smiled and went out to reach my hand. I knew who he was: a liar and a

thief. The man no one should trust. Worst of all, he was real. It wasn’t one of my

hallucinations. My hallucinations are only mine. He couldn’t control them. He only had a

grasp on myself. And when I got fed up with his disheveled face and crumpled up hands I

screamed. “Get out!!!” He exited my classroom with an expression of shame. He had

failed and my confidence went up. The bell for class rang and the whole class left except

one student, William Hollywood.


“Are you alright? It seemed like someone was talking to you and you were upset

by him.”

“I’m okay now. Thanks for asking, though. How could you tell?”

“Your facial expression and body language. It tells everything.”

“Really?”

He just nodded.

“You’ll have to teach me sometime. But, for now you have another class.”

“Bye, sir.”

"You know you can call me Gerard.” “Sorry.

“Nothing to apologize for William.” The boy started to

walk out the classroom reluctantly. I could tell he didn’t want to leave my class. “Oh and

William!”

“Yes?”

“Nice essay.”

“Thanks a lot.” He smiled and walked away more cheerfully. He was a very

awkward kid, more than most boys. He was uniquely different. He was sensitive, a

bookworm, thoughtful, hard-working for things he likes, and very apathetic in most areas

he doesn’t like. Maybe that’s why I like him so much, he’s exactly me. I cleared off my

desk and finished my water working on something that looked like grades. The hours

went by, in what seemed to be minutes though, it was time to go home. The rain had

stopped long before.

After my experience with the strange man in my classroom, I started acting

peculiar. I was on the edge of my seat he whole day, ready for another hallucination, or
another demon. My lips were chapped and dry; I constantly needed a glass of water or a

drink from the water fountain. My head felt slightly light. I was queasy and unstable all

day. When I got to my apartment after the day ended, I sat down on my bed and closed

my eyes, expecting to see monsters and demons, voices and sounds. Nothing was there.

My ‘condition’ was nothing right then and there. It was because I had gone through so

much through the day my body needed a rest.

When I fell asleep my dreams were plentiful. They were filled with the scent of

the ocean and rain forests. Mermaids sang and lions grinned at their peaceful

surroundings. The rain was a slow drizzle and the women around my were beautiful. I sat

on a throne watching them sing and dance. I felt normal for normal, excluding the fact I

was seeing mermaids, lions, and a calm ocean. The sun formed the light that I wanted and

no other light. Its radiation was a wonderfully beautiful red. I could smell the rain and the

forest. I felt like a king.

The fire went up tree by tree. Mermaids started to panic and rain quickly into the

ocean. They weren’t as beautiful running in terror as they were when dancing and singing.

The lions also ran into the ocean. I expected them to die and drown. They swam on the

surface of the water to my surprise. I was stuck in my throne and on the lonesome island

while every tree went up in flames. I had more terror in my body than the mermaids or the

lions. I knew I was going to die and nothing could save me. Because of my position I

panicked and rain straight to the ocean. I screamed for my own safety, thinking that I

could swim or breathe underwater like the mermaids and lions. A creature rose out from

the water as soon as my toes brushed the surface of the ice-cold water. It was five-

hundred feet tall, had a fish-like head, giant wings on its back, and tentacles the
length of a football field. It had about two hundred of tentacles.

The monster reached out and grabbed me with its long tentacles. I was grabbed so

fast I didn’t even have a chance to feel its tentacles and arms. The thing raised me with

many arms and opened its large, horrific mouth. The teeth were approximately twenty

feet tall. With one swallow I was in the bottom of the stomach waiting to be digested. I

was dying and not even realizing it.

When I awoke, the bed wasn’t drenched with sweat and spit like it normally is.

The pillows and comforter were just a little askew.

Water ran down my mouth as I got ready for the school day, washing the funny

taste of my mouth. My reflection in the mirror looked worn and almost forgotten. A small

beard quickly started crawling onto my face. I looked like my old college days: the beard,

bags under my eyes, and a slurred speech. I knew the kids would only notice the beard,

and not the change that had suddenly come over me psychologically.

The sun outside made my eyes ache and stomach churn. I was worse than I

thought. I couldn’t call in sick because I hated all the substitutes they got for teachers. So,

I went to work anyways. Of course, traffic was slow and monotonous, as it is everyday of

existence. The radio was boring, covered with talk and church songs. I just felt like sitting

in my car and waiting forever and ever. Never going in to work or going home.

My homeroom was noisy and talkative. I didn’t want them to calm down to much

because then Beelzebub might come back. I let them speak at a minimum until the bell

rang. Then, unlike every other high school class, they straightened up and were prepared

to listen.

“Today class, you will be showing me your rough draft on your short stories about
the war in Northern Uganda. Now, you may not have it done yet, Jon, and that is why I

will also give you time to work on it. Also, due to a sudden illness I seem to have I will

delay this paper until Wednesday. But, no later than Wednesday. Got it, class?”

“Okay.” The class all said in unison. Some started to talk, some actually started

scribbling out sentences, and fixing grammar, and finishing up their essays. I smiled at

them as I walked by them and then decided to sit at the empty seat of a sick, or missing,

student, and listen in on a conversation with a couple of the troublemakers. They were

talking about their weekend. They knew I was there, but didn’t care. To them I was just a

simple friend. Which is kind of a cool thing, considering most students hate their

teachers.

“What’d you do this weekend Mr. Singular?”

“Eh, graded a few of the make up quizzes on that Lovecraft story we read.”

“Which one was that again?”

“Herbert West-Reanimator.”

“Oh yeah, I actually enjoyed that one. It was kind of scary.”

“It’s one of my personal favorites.”

“Isn’t Lovecraft the guy on the poster on the wall.”

“Yeah.”

I discussed more random subjects like art and music with them. They were always

surprised I knew and liked the same music. The kid I was talking to was one of my failing

students, but he also tried harder than almost anybody else. I really liked him, though. He

was one of the few students that called me Gerard outside of class. The rest of the day

went on as a dreadful drag. The clock seemed like it was in slow motion. I wanted to get
home and just relax. But, I knew when I got there something would be awaiting me. It

could be anything from an IRS agent to Beelzebub. But, there was nothing when I got

there. Only rain falling from the clouds was the only awaiting thing when I got home. I

love the rain though. The way it drizzles onto my windshield and windows at home. I

especially love the sound it makes when the drops rapidly strike my roof and windows.

I went through the short stories that were written by my students. Some of them

were superb, other were like trash. Some were about people chopping wood and others

were about monsters. The best ones were the ones who had the tons and tons of errors. I

gave them A’s. Their grammar might not have been perfect, and their punctuation

certainly wasn’t the greatest, but most of those kinds of storylines were so unique and

original that they deserved no less than an A or A plus. Then I stumbled upon William’s.

It was about five pages long, and not a single thing was wrong with it’s punctuation or

grammar. The story was about a man who wakes up in the hospital and is about to be

murdered by a ton of porcelain dolls. But, he lives in the end because it’s all a dream.
BROKEN EMPTY WALLS

A man was crying. A boy was crying. A dog was whimpering. And I sat on my couch

silently.

I was oppressed by all the television shows on. They were repulsive because of the

sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll. A world so vulgar was supposed to be my home. I felt like an

adolescent again: so depressed and lonely. No one near me to help with the exception of

my students. However, it was a different story then. The weekend was long, four days,

and it was only Friday. My loneliness amounted in a large amount of poetry. I felt like a

pen had become my haven.

I had too many drinks the night before I our first day off. My room smelled like

cigarettes and Jack Daniels from too many people who were barely. We drank from the

bottles until our speech was slurred and our conversation became deep but all the answers

to the questions we asked were forgotten when sobriety returned.. We all felt like idiots

when we all started singing old Indian war chants. One boy was one-hundred percent

Cherokee and knew way too much about his heritage.

When I awoke the next day, the walls began to spin.

Blood poured from the cracks in the walls. They were coming back. Creatures crawled

out of the cracks. They all were ten-feet tall, and twenty foot wingspans, had red scaly

skin. My hands were sweaty. I could feel myself breathing in and out too heavily. My

head became light, but I was able to stand my ground. I walked towards the bathroom.

The creatures stood against the wall or crawled out of the cracks in the walls. Only
watching me walk to past. I had no idea if these things were aliens, demons, or merely

evidence of my insanity. I cut my foot open with one of the bottles on the floor. There

was no pain at all. Blood flowed onto the floor, and as I looked into the mirror, an

unexpected surprise was there.

I was wearing a mask. I felt my face. No trace of any kind of ceramic or plastic

mask touched my fingertips. But, I still saw it in the mirror. I went to grab it from the

mirror and broke my hand as soon as contact with the mirror was made. I screamed in

agony. The mask only smiled. Happy at my pain, it laughed in a mockingly and pitiless

voice. I turned around. Demons filled every inch of my bedroom. My worst fear was in

front: the Prince of Darkness, the King of Chaos, the Inventor of lies. There stood the

cheater, liar, thief, and a being with many other names in my room.

“What do you want now?”

“What I have always wanted.” His voice was harsh, deep, and low this time. The

Golden Dawn had wore a black robe with its hood down and had skin as pale as paper. A

huge scar ran down his face.

“You’re not getting me.” I replied in a very calm voice.

“I expected you to say that.”

“Why do you want me so badly?”

“Because, Gerard, you’re the one who can see things. You see my demons, my

minions, my children. You can help me in so many ways. You could help me rise again,

like I was after The Fall. You could be my right hand man, helping me command this

army. You could be the Vice President of the world, even though there is no way in Hell

my world would ever be a democracy.


“Gerard, you could also become the Prince of Chaos.

You could be a fellow serpent. Together, with your skill and my supernatural powers we

could prove the Enemy wrong. Together, you and I could become the kings of the

universe.”

“Well, you have another let down. As sweet as those words are, and as good as the

bargain is to my ears, I will stick with my commander. I hold the light, and I will always.

With my sword, I could clash down you’re children and you would be forced to flee in

fright. You fear people like me. People who believe and refuse. I know what Peter spoke

of, and I know what to do when tempted by you, Beautiful One. Go now, or I will show

you my Leader’s ability.”

“Oh, alright. We’ll depart until you choose the right side of the road.”

“I already have.”

And with those words the demons went away, the walls sealed themselves

together tightly. My head felt normal and the glass on the floor was now whole, not

shattered. My hands were dry and unbroken. The mirror was fixed and the blood had been

cleaned off the floor. But, best of all, the my mask was gone.

Normality was somewhat restored.

“You are an odd man.”

“Yeah, I know. Everyone seems to say that these days.” I said. My father hassled

me about my posture and beard. I was restless. Dreaming about monsters and any other

horrifying thing one can think of. I hadn’t seen any demons since the previous Sunday. A

man was staying at my parent’s house. He had peculiar green eyes, and sharp teeth that
resembled something like fangs.

He was Jason Thompson.

“How’s the whole teaching thing going for you?” My father asked. We both

sipped our beers. He never actually asked this question when I visited him and my

mother. My mother never spoke and my dad always talked about anything except my

career. He had finally gotten interested in what I did for a living.

“It’s great. The kids seem to like me. But, the other teachers aren’t used to having

such a different looking teacher on the staff. I seem to bug them.”

“Really? Do you even eat lunch with the other teachers?”

“No. I eat it with the students. They make me laugh. And some of the students are

twice as smart as most teachers. They can think and realize concepts much faster than my

colleagues do. They enjoy the books I give them. Which makes me glade”

“What books have they read in class?”

“Let’s see,” I thought of all the books we had read. “for the summer they were

required to read The Lord of the Rings and in class we have read The Metamorphosis by

Kafka and The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. They all love ‘em. It makes me glad

they think I’m a good teacher.”

“Good to hear. Met any girls?”

“Nope.”

“Let me know when you do. Okay?”

“No problem.” My dad chuckled and finished of the rest of his beer. I was glad we

could get along once again after fighting for what seem to be forever. Now our fights are

more like discussions and disagreements.


I slept in the bed I had when I was an adolescent. The bed was just as comfortable as it

always was. The pillows were the same twenty-year old pillows I had when I was at the

age of nine. My old friend, Lenny, set the ones before that on fire one night during a

birthday party.

My dreams were calm. Filled with birds and other animals. Nothing to make me

wake up screaming in the middle of the night. But, when I did wake up nothing changed

except that I a little eye gunk was under my right eye. My hands weren’t shaking the

slightest bit. No nightmares meant no Golden Dawn.

When I awoke, my mother made bacon, fried some eggs, and blueberry pancakes.

My father was in the living room reading a book while sipping his coffee. He was still

staring down at his book when I entered. He pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of

his nose in order to concentrate. He didn’t hear my footsteps. My feet were soundless

against the tile floor I crept up behind the couch in an attempt to frighten him.

“Good morning.”

“You saw me?”

“More like heard you. I always know when you’re coming. You should know that

by now.” He said. I being the one who was frightened. A smile appeared over his book. I

returned the smile. I hopped over the seat of the couch and glanced out the window, then

my father’s expression, expecting him to be mad. But, he didn’t even seem to mind me

jumping so hard onto the couch. I was older which meant. I had more privileges. “I see

you’re in a good mood this morning.”

“I guess so.”
“That’s always good.”

“Yep.”

“You kept on talking in your sleep last night.”

` “Again?”

“Yep, something about Belshezaar. What is that?”

“No idea. But, you know ever since I was five I’ve been sleep talking about things

I’ve never even heard of before.”

“Just wondering” My dad grinned, put his bookmark in, and stood up. “Let’s have

some breakfast.”

“Sound’s good.”

We ate the food and it tasted delicious. I ate plenty more eggs and drank another

cup of coffee. We discussed nothing in particular. I had decided not to tell them about the

demons or Beelzebub. Jason was sleeping. He seemed to be asleep all the time except for

late at night. He was never even home though. But, I stayed up with him late one night

and became friends. The peculiar thing about him, though, besides the green eyes and

razor sharp fangs, is the amount of hair on his legs and arms.

“What time are you leaving today?” My mother asked me.

“Probably at noon.”

“So soon? You normally don’t leave until five.” My dad surprisingly asked. He

wanted me to stay. I don’t know why, but at that time he wanted to spend more together.

“I was going to stop by an old friend’s house.”

“Who?”

“My roommate from college.”


My dad was thinking about what my old roommate’s name was, “How Leo?”

“So you remember his name?”

“Of course.”

“Great. I don’t need to pack anything, which means I can hang out until then.

What time is it?”

“It’s about ten-thirty.”

“Thanks.”

For the rest of the day we just talked and ate, told more stories, and we even

started a fire which felt great. By the time I had to leave, we all felt satisfied with my stay.

I was just glad I could feel normal once again. I was getting scared that my sane state of

mind wouldn‘t last much longer. My parents were worried about me and I don’t blame

them for it. I had lost a considerably large amount of weight and had become deathly pale.

I‘m sure they noticed the thing like my jumpy eyes and/or scattered sentences. They

notice everything.
I’M INVINCIBLE

“Are you okay?” Leo stood over me. I clutched the calves of my legs with blood from my

forehead starting to flow. I had broken most of his Christmas lights. My jacket was

soaked in sweat and dried blood. He thought I had slipped. “What the hell happened?”

“Ugh,” I rubbed my head and saw the blood on my hand, remembering what had

happened. I wondered what I looked like in his yard, holding my leg and my hair

drenched in blood. Pathetic. “I really don’t know. I was going to stop by here, but now

I’m going to go the hospital. Nice talking to you.”

“Okay?” He walked into his house. I looked at the concrete. The snakes were gone

and the door handle felt smooth and metal again. These vision were hurting me more and

more. I could here Leo on the phone with someone. He sounded scared and worried.

Probably for me.

“Yeah, he just collapsed and starting breathing everywhere.” Then:

“He said something. About a Golden Dawn.”

“No, no idea.”

“I’m worried. He should get help.”

This was the conversation I heard on the phone while I examined the hole in my

head. It wasn’t as bad as I had expected it to be. My throat was dry and my legs were

scorching, as if aflame. He looked at me when he was on the phone, then back at the

ground. I decided the change of focus was my cue to go. I turned the ignition and drove to

the emergency room. I didn’t need help but some over-the-counter painkillers would do.

The doctor said nothing while he looked down my throat and took my blood
pressure. He didn’t even ask why I was blessing from my head. He wrote with a ball-

point pen and handed me the paper. The writing was scribbled and illegible.

“This will help.”

“Um, okay?” I didn’t know what it was. I took the paper and walked out. The

lights were bright and hallways smelled like Windex and 409. The nurses gave me weird

looks as I walked down the halls. They were staring at the blood on my forehead. But, I

could only think of my hallucinations. I was going insane? I’m supposed to help fight this

war? No, this isn’t some rare disease. The monsters are more than real. But, what comes

next? I looked at every patient I walked by. I wondered why they were there, if there was

another patient that was condition at the moment, or did every single one of them have

family caring for them at their deathbeds?

Thoughts constantly flowed. My mind rushed like it never had. My eyes fell open

to different things. Occasionally, I would pass a room that had the silhouette of a demon

inside. When I looked into these particular rooms, it was only my imagination. At least,

that’s what I told myself. The walks extended length cause all hope to find a working

elevator vanish and the same for the hope of cleaning my wounds, which the hospital did

not do.

The walk eventually did end, the elevator eventually did come, and I found a

bathroom to wash my face in. The room had one toilet, one urinal, one sink, and one

paper towel rack. I took as many paper towels as I could with one hand and turn the water

to an almost boiling temperature. I ran my hands under the water, trying to get a better

look at what really had happened to

me. The cool water ran down my face and I saw the blood drip into the sink. It covered
the sink. I started dabbing at my injury. The pain only stung a little bit under the pressure.

It wasn’t as bad as I had been expected.

After a few minutes of dabbing and washing, the scar started to become a little

clearer. I washed the wound more and more thoroughly, being careful not to get soap in it

to prevent stinging. When I was through, the scar was the most bizarre thing I ever saw. It

was woven into something I couldn’t see from standing straight up. I leaned over the sink,

looked at it closer, and got a better view by moving my thick black hair aside. It formed

words that were hardly legible by the human eye. The words haunted my mind. But, they

weren’t harmful, evil, or demotic in any way. Actually, it was quite the opposite. The

words inscribed an inch or two above my left temple, appearing as a peculiar scar were

these:

“The cursed shall always die.

“But the Blessed shall always reign.”

These words came from my commander. He gave me

protection. A sense of security reigned over my heart.as if a shield had been dropped over

me. I was in the shadow of His wings, never to walk in darkness again, but only to live

forever. The blood in the sink had disappeared by now. I threw away the dozens of paper

towels I had used to clean up the blood and my heart rate caught up to normal. My head

was heavier and my stomach less queasy.

Two golden eyes stared at me behind my back. These eyes made me jump, hit my

elbows on the sink, and fall onto the floor. The person caught me before I hit the floor. He

smiled and helped me stand up. I looked at him with cautious, fearful eyes. He did not

look dangerous at all, but one can never be careful enough.


“Hello, Gerard. I see you found your mark.” The man told me in a gentle voice.

He dressed in a business suit and long partially curly brown hair. His skin was flawless

along with every other part of his body. His face had normal sized cheekbones and

normal sized jawbones, but they were somehow magnificient. His teeth were flawless and

lips too.

“If you’re talking about the scar then, yes. What all does it mean?” I didn’t know

why I had asked him. He was just a handsome man. Nothing less, nothing more. At least,

that’s what I thought now. I rubbed the scar thoughtfully and carefully.

“It means what you think it means,” He stepped towards me. I had no fear at all. I

knew he was a friendly person. The way he spoke, looked, and body posture told me he

was a kind and friendly person. “But, if you’re too timid to speak right now then I shall

do all of the speaking instead. That mark is the sign that you are the Father’s soldier,

child, and servant. No other man, woman, or god can claim you. It also gives you

protection against impure attacks. Anything harmful that is thrown at you will be bounced

off. However, if you throw something harmful at yourself willingly then the protection is

no good. The only way to break the protection is through your own choices. Any outside

evil is useless. But, that doesn’t mean a strong force can’t hurt you. Let’s say if the

Serpent were to attack, you and you don’t even try to put up a fight then you surly have a

good chance of injury or maybe even death. But, if you do put up a fight, then you can

fight off the Serpent and be victorious. Remember though, victory against the Serpent is

unachievable and impermanent, but victory against the demons is. Any questions?”

“Am I actually fighting a war?”

“Pretty much.”
“And I’m doing it all for God?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh, okay. Who are you?”

“I am Gabriel the archangel.”

“Don’t you normally fight off the demons?”

“Oh no, no,” He chuckled a little. The chuckle was something that made me

embarrassed; because of his laugh, he appeared to me as a wise man. It made me feel like

I was actually standing in the presence of something holy, “That’s my brother, Michael. I

deliver news and tidings to people.”

“Oh. I always wondered what an angel actually look like. Do you always dress

like this?”

“No. We normally go in robes or normal clothes. I just

felt like wearing a business suit today. Do you like it? It was half off.” He put his hands

around the collar, making it look as if he was showing off.

“You have to buy things in Heaven?”

“No. I’m just messin’ with you.” He ruffled my hair on my head and I straightened

it out. I felt happy; probably because a real angel had just reached down, touched me, and

made a joke. It made my heart feel different. I myself laughed, too. “Well, do you

understand everything?”

“Yeah, well at least I think I do.”

“I’ll be glad to clear up anything for you.”

“All right, I do have one question then.”

“Hit me.”
“Will these things, these visions go away now or anytime soon?”

“They will only grow worse because of the spiritual experience you have had now.

Anything else?”

“Nope. Not really.”

“Okay, I’ll keep in touch with everything,” He put one

hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye wearing a very serious expression,

“This is a warning: always be on the edge of your seat. They’ll only get scarier and more

dangerous. Make sure you don’t let anything or anyone get into your head. But, that’s

useless if you always keep the blade by your hand. Oh yeah, the blade.” He reached into

his suit pocket and pulled out this glowing double-sided sword that was one meter in

length and two and a half inches in width. On each blade was this:

“You will pursue your enemies, and they will fall by the sword."

I looked at the blade in awe and gratefulness. The sword fit perfectly into my

hand. It was light and very useable for a person like me. I felt like the sword was just for

me. Gabriel smiled at me and said goodbye. When he left I walked out of the bathroom. I

was glad; people weren’t giving me weird look. I remembered the blade. I looked at it,

and at the people around me. They didn’t seem to notice. The blade was invisible to the

human eye. Only spiritual beings and I could see it. But, was I a spiritual being?

I put the sword in my car and drove away. The world was spinning before me and

I had no cares. I felt like it was mine. But, I also had a sense of humbleness upon me. It

wasn’t too great. However, it was just good enough.

That night my dreams were empty, filled with lifeless forests and rivers. Different
landscapes would show up. During these dreams, not a single animal stirred. There was

no wind. There were no clouds. The sun only shined as part of the landscape. It was

something you had to look for to notice.

I woke up in the exact same position I was in when I fell asleep. Which I thought

to be odd considering how I toss vigourously and turn constantly when I sleep. The sheets

on my bed had barely moved when I awoke. I thought I had only been asleep for about

four or five minutes. But, when I looked at the clock, I realized it was more like ten to

twelve hours. It was seven-thirty a.m. Monday morning. I had to get to school.

I took a quick, hot shower and thought about the

weekend: about the visions, the discoveries, the changes, the scars, the truth, and, most of

all, the relationship with my commander. I had was starting to become a brand new

person. But, my outlook on everything and everyone had completely changed. Even

talking to an angel for a few minutes made my face glow and heart feel warm.

I screamed when I had realized how hot the shower water had become.

“So what did you think of the story class?” I asked my students. They stared at me

back, having no clue what to say. Normally at least one of them had a smart-ass comment

to make, or a complaint about the story. I scanned the whole classroom to see what was

wrong. Two people were asleep.

“Charlie, please wake Sara up.” I told one of the students in front of sleeping

beauty. He nudged her gently. She stirred, and then looked up at me with a blank face. I

could tell in her eyes that she was sorry.

“Sorry, Mr. Singular.” She said.


“It’s okay. I bet you’re tired. But, sleep in the next class that you don’t like. What,

do you have science next?”

“Um, yea.”

“Do you like it?”

“Not really, it bores the hell out of me.” Most people scowled her for cursing in

front of a teacher. But, I didn’t care.

“Then sleep during that one,” A few people chuckled. “What did you think about

the story we read?”

“Which one was it again?”

“ ‘The Perfect Day for a Bananafish’ by J.D. Salinger.”

“Oh, I loved it.”

“Really?” I was astounded that people actually liked this story besides me. “Why

is that?”

“Well, I guess, it would have to be the way it’s happy and bright during the first

part of it. Now to think through all of it, until the end where he takes the Ortgies calibre

7.65 automatic and shoots himself in the temple.”

“Good, very detailed. God job remembering the type of gun. Does anyone else

have something to say now?”

“It was one of the best of J.D. Salinger’s stories I’ve ever read.”

“Thank you William.” His voice had come from the hallway; he was looking

through his locker, sorting things to find something. “Why don’t you come in here instead

of your current class? You have this one next anyways.”

“But my teacher will look for me.” He worried. I looked up at the clock, trying to
remember what time the class period ended.

“You only have three minutes left; say you had to go to the bathroom or

something if he or she ever asks. Whom do you have right now? Wait let me guess, Ms.

Pullen.”

“Eww!” Some student said.

I could hear laughter coming from behind me. I didn’t turn around from facing

William. He put his current things away and walked into the classroom; he seemed not to

care anymore. He was staring at me strangely, and I didn’t care at all.

“Um, Gerard.”

“Yes?”

“Ben’s still asleep.” I noticed the kid in the back with his hood over his face; I

could hear him snoring vaguely.

“Someone hand me a book. Come on now, quickly before he wakes up.” One of

the students gave me an abridged version of Don Quixote. I hurled it across the room and

hit him in the head with it. Ben let out a little girlish squeal and the whole class erupted in

laughter. I saw William smile and that made me smile. His depression seeped away for a

few minutes.

After ten minutes the bell filled the air, all the people left, and William sat in his

seat (up front, where he always sits). I decided to mix things up. I don’t know what was

with me that day, but I felt like changing everything I could. While pulling a deck of

cards out of my drawer I commanded William to come and play a game with me. As we

dealt out our different cards, we laughed at various things. I asked them if he had a girl.

His face went from very happy to a very morbid expression that made me sad, also.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Girls aren’t really into the bookworms like me.”

“Not yet. When the girls get older they’ll get more into sophisticated and more

mature men like you and myself, trust me. It’s how my mom met my dad.” He laughed

and smiled. He handed the cards to me while the bell rang for class to begin. The kids

piled in as quickly as they could. “William, why don’t you sit in my seat for today’s

class?”

He looked at me with an astounded expression. Everyone else just had an

inquisitive expression on their faces.

“Now class, today I want to know some of your favorite things. I’ll start with

songs. This is the only class I am doing this for because there are only fifteen of you. I

will start with Stephen. Stephen?”

And the list went like this:

Stephen: Wolves at Night-Manchester Orchestra

Sara: In the Bell of a Shark-Gallow

Bill: Whole Lotta Love- Led Zeppelin

Claudio: Check Yes Juliet- We the King

Jon: Gravemakers and Gunslingers- Coheed and Cambria

Charlie: Dance Dance – Fall Out Boy

George- Dark Side of the Moon- Pink Floyd

Michelle-CrushCrushCrush- Paramore

Ashleigh- Sweet Georgia- Ray Charles

Nick- Some unknown Avenged Sevenfold song


Jamie- Dear Jamie-Hellogoodbye

Louis- One-Metallica

Cookie- Thrash Unreal-Against Me

The Lizz’s- The Great Escape- Boys Like Girls.

The rest of the day was slow and monotonous. I spent it asking kids questions and

opinions. They all enjoyed it. I enjoyed it too. After the school day ended, my stomach

felt queasy once again; not from food poisoning or any thing like that, but from the cold,

brisk air. Every time I feel freezing weather, my stomach gets upset and I can’t hold any

food down whatsoever. I could hear the grumbling inside of me. It wanted to come up my

throat and onto the floor. But, I was trying to force it down. Because I was so focused on

trying not to vomit all over my car, I forgot to focus on the road.

The rooms were bright white. I couldn’t identify the people that were around my

bed. I could hear a couple of flat-liners going off, indicating people were dying. I tried to

find the machine that was keeping me alive, but couldn’t. There only seemed to be a

pinching feeling in my arms. I eventually found out that the pinching feeling was an IV. It

was to help me stay healthy along with an assortment of different pills and medicines.

When my eyes closed, the curse came back. I saw the demons. They were coming

towards me with their razor sharp teeth, scaly hands, and deep growls. I writhed and

seizure inside of my bed. Out of my body, the nurse held me down and chained my arms

to the sides of my bed. Spit drooled from my mouth and blood gushed everywhere.

Later, the doctors told me my liver had failed and my appendix exploded. This

was something no one had ever seen, the liver failed simultaneously with the explosion of

my appendix. Which, spiritually, was when a man dressed in a black cloak, black armor,
and had a gray face with only a mouth, no eyes or nose, pierced my side with a large red

sword.

The scenery in my spiritual realm was a long, wide field. There were thousands of

monsters. There were dragons, large spiders, humongous overgrown wasps and bees, and

the skinless beasts with teeth as long as machetes. I wore a bright golden suit, covered

with jewels, and a large unbreakable shield had been in my right hand. The sword in my

hands was long and glistening in the moon light. When I realized where I was, the Plains

of Death, connecting the city of Morsphien and The Kingdom of Belshezaar the Beast, I

emptied all of the fear out of my body and got ready to fight. But, as soon as I drew my

sword and tightened my grip, I woke up in the hospital with an intense amount of pain in

my inside where stitches had been sown.

The next morning I woke up in a place call The Nest. It was an insane Asylum.
INSANITY INSURED

At the NEST, they treated me like I would, at any moment, try to kill myself. Never

leaving my room, or me alone for more than five minutes. When the monsters would be

in the corner they would give me a little pill. Every time my eyes would get jumpy, grow

larger, and my pupils turned white.

When I asked why I was in here, they at first replied not to worry about it. I asked

them as constantly as I could. By the end of the first week the only thing I could say was

‘why am I here?’ After the twelfth day, one of the nurses, who was actually a man, gave

in and told me I would scream things about kingdoms, demons, and wars in my sleep. I

would sleep walk in the halls, telling people about doomsday and the upcoming war, and

I had also tried to kill myself. A dragon named Porenes, the dragon of His Evil had bitten

me, it wasn't suicide..

I was the only one treated with intensive care at the time. I felt like the staff was

always taunting me. The ways they talked to me all the time made me depressed.

Everything about the place was oppressive. Except the man who was stayed with

my parents: Jason Thompson.

He was there because of his disability. When I talked to him, it was because of his

disease. It was a rare disease where he would turn into a wolf at night during every full

moon. He suffered from Lycanthropy, but you might also know this disease as being a

werewolf. Which explains why he's so hairy.

I ate nothing but bananas and applesduring my stay at the nest. I drank water and

slept during the day. My behavior became peculiar and isolated from the world. My hands
were constantly shaking, hungry for a sword to be in my hands. I limped and would

occasionally bleed at night threw the gown the asylum had given me.

The first morning I woke up with stitches on my hands, legs, arms, and face. My lungs

felt like there was a ton of brick lying on top of them. When I would breathe out I could

feel the poison of the dragons and beasts running through my veins, it was slowly killing

me throughout every few breaths. I felt like I should’ve died. I wasn’t worthy enough to

live, even if I was barely alive, and having pampered treatment in the ugliest and worst

insane asylum in America only made me even more depressed.

The IV inside my arms was one of the reasons I could stay alive. I could breathe

because of pills they fed me every five minutes. I’d have to swallow with full force, but

the nurses would still end up shoving it down my throat someway or another. The small

pill would attempt to glide straight past my Adam’s apple, but would stop and try to

choke me. They would pump my stomach, then shove the pill straight back in. A few

times the pill wouldn’t go down so the staff had to result in crumbling it in my jell-o

pudding or sandwiches.

I couldn’t even swallow the food that the nurses had squeezed my pills inside of.

After a few days, the nurses became sick of it and put liquid immunizations in my blood

stream. Within a few hours, I was up and moving around. My breathing seemed to have

smoothed down after a few cups of chamomile tea. The nurses thought it was remarkable

about how quick I had made a recovery. But, it was only a matter of time until the

monsters came back.

The first night they came back was the same night I had gotten out of my room.
But the thing appeared to me in my room. It was in the corner with its head held low

between its knees. I thought I heard it crying but when I got closer, I learned

that it was in fact its breathing. The thing had no epidermal layer at all, its eyes were

black and white. When I spoke to the monster, its voice was very raspy and cold.

“Hello?” the thing asked me, looking around the room to see where I was, even

though I was only ten feet away from the creature. My soul tightened up the moment its

eyes met my gaze. I feared that flames would come from its mouth and they would torch

my skin to crisps. “Who’s there? You know I can smell your fresh blood.” My skin began

to shiver, and my spine started to spasm. My lungs felt like there was an entire city's

foundation built on top of me.

“I’m here.” I said, my body shaking vigorously.

“Oh, Gerard. How are you?

“I don’t know. I guess scared is the right word.”

“I don’t blame you. I guess you’re wondering who the hell I am. Or what I am at

that.”

“Pretty much.” I was still shaking like I had just reached my highest point on

LSD. “Did what’s his name send you?”

“Beelzebub? Oh no, I just exist as a creature: for neither of the commanders. I’m

here to keep you company until my other colleague takes his shift. I was just trying to

scare you with the whole smelling your flesh thing. I knew you were there because I could

sense your electrical charges.”

“Kind of like a shrimp?”

“Well, your electrical charges are different. There more spiritual and powerful.
Only little creatures like me can sense them, no platypuses.”

“Oh, cool. Is it that way with every human?”

“Only with the people with strong connection to the spiritual world. You have the

strongest of the living right now..”

“Awesome.”

“Yeah, there’s more to the spiritual human body than

anyone could ever imagine.”

“Yea, I guess you’re right.”

The creature spoke with me in a kind voice. It wanted to make a permanent first

impression: fear. But, it wanted to make a temporary impression, too: kindness. The

creature, Berson, was from what a man named Dante called purgatory, but the real name

is Purgotorious. But, Dante’s theory was partially wrong. Purgotorious was a city in the

spiritual realms where all demons who had left Satan now dwell. Since former demons

ran the city, the city was in ruins. It had tall buildings made of copper that were

crumbling, streets paved of nothing but empty space, and all flowers and vegetation had

been long dead. Purgotorious was a pretty New York City.

Not many monsters lived in Purgotorious now. They are all on Earth because they

enjoy watching humans more. It was either that or the same thing everyday for eternity

just seemed to have bored the hell out of them. As I spoke to Berson,

I became friends with him. Less petrified of his skinless body and razor-sharp teeth. He

had a very dry sense of humor.

Berson was there for three nights, during the day he slept in the basement of the

asylum; he would tell me how he would purposely knock over glass jars in order to annoy
the nurses when they were down there and how he would say the names of the doctors

over the intercom so only that specific doctor could hear his voice. About the third time

on the first day, I was able to hear him talking to the nurses.

On the fourth day, I was expecting Berson to be there when I got to my room after

I had taken my pills and my regular hallucinations of snakes and spiders had occurred.

Sometimes the walls would melt away and nothing but tigers and lions would be left. But,

when I got to my room, there was only my new roommate, Jason Thompson, and he

really wasn’t my roommate. He’d just spent the days there. The facilitation locked him up

in a steel room at night, thinking he would kill people, even though he would only turn

into his monster every month or so. I had no idea where Berson had gone. So I looked in

the basement, attic, and the intercom room. I decided not to ask people if they had seen

him, because I knew that only I could’ve seen him. He wasn’t anywhere I looked. I

thought that maybe he was in the cracks in between the bricks of the walls. When I

looked there, a nurse tapped me on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, what are you doing sir?”

“I’m cleaning out the cracks.” I had to make up some excuse in order not to

appear even more insane.

“Why?”

“I’m sorry, don’t you know I have severe OCD.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You have to go back to your room.”

“Why? Because I’m crazy?”

“No. It’s the rules.”

“Well, sorry.” The nurse put his hand on my shoulder. You could hear part of his
jaw crack when my knuckles hit his face. Blood poured from his busted lips, I could hear

his lungs taking in an insufficient amount of oxygen, and his body smacked the floor with

a loud bang. Every nurse, patient, and doctor stared at me with a stern or worried look. As

my lungs heaved in and out, blood covered my knuckles. There was sense of triumph in

me, as if I had shown them who I really was. There were ropes tied to my arms: two

Administrators were pulling at me.

I woke up in my room with my hand patched up. An all too familiar pain filled my

lungs. I heaved up all the food I had eaten earlier: toast, eggs, and an oversized glass of

orange juice. As my head spun, people were speaking quickly. I couldn’t make out any of

the things these people were saying. The words were so fast that, at first, I assumed it was

a foreign language that no human could’ve known, like so many of the demons seemed to

have spoken. However, when I listened closely I realized that the voices were actually

speaking English.

These voices weren’t monsters, demons, or even real people. I heard nothing real;

everything seemed to be a hallucination or a fantasy. This time the people I saw looked

regular: t-shirts, jeans, and the occasional pair of sunglasses. I shook each of their hands.

After about the eighth person came, wearing a Hawaiian polo and khaki shorts, they

pulled out a pack of playing cards. A kid with blonde hair dealt five cards to each of us.

We were started playing poker.

We played cards, drank Jack Daniels, and smoked Luckystrikes. My hand seemed

to win every match. I constantly had hands like a full house, straight flush, and I even

once pulled a royal flush out of my sleeve. Since it was my dream, my hallucination, I

was able win whenever I wanted.


There was a slap across my face and an old student stood in front of me. William

Hollywood’s face glared down upon me.

It had only been a dream after all.

“Oh, hello William.” I said. It scared the hell out of me, for a lack of a better term.

“Hi, Mr. Singular.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, if you’re not in class you can call me

Gerard?” I said. I tried to be sympathetic with the boy, but he did scare me to death.

“Now why are you here and not in school?”

“It’s Saturday, sir.”

“I’m sorry, I lost track of time after the third week. So

why are you here?”

“To check up on you. They wouldn’t tell the students where you had gone. So I

had to ask Emily, my tutor, where you had gone. Some how she had found out how you

got in here and told me, and only me,” he took a long pause, looked at my face, then my

beard (which was enormous by now), inhaled a long breath, and motioned someone to

come in through the door. I could barely see anyone around. “Emily decided to come with

me. I had no idea where in the world this place was, and apparently her mother used to

work here.”

“She spends so much time with crazy people that I think one day she will actually

go crazy herself. Not that you’re crazy.” She said apologetically. The moment she walked

through the door I remembered what a beautiful person looked like. She had black hair

that barely went past her shoulders, dark brown eyes, with a greenish tint to them, a tight

t-shirt on, jeans that were a little to long because of her short legs, and flip-flops. Her lips
formed perfectly.

“It’s okay. I think it might be rubbing of on me.” We

laughed. “So how have you been?”

“I’m great.”

“How are the teachers without me there?”

“Actually I have no idea.”

“Why?”

“Well, when I found out you weren’t coming back I decided to leave because

you’re the only teacher that I seemed to have enjoyed. All the other teachers annoyed the

hell out of me, for a lack of a better term. So I quit, got a job as a reporter for the local

newspaper, and I’m probably making three times as much as I did as a teacher. Oh, and I

left my boyfriend."

“Oh, cool. You did all that for me? Well, except the whole leaving your boyfriend

thing.”

“Yea. Actually I left my boyfriend for you, too,” she took a remotely long pause,

“Can you leave for a second William?”

“Sure.”

Emily sat down on the bed. I got even a better look at her. She seemed to be

glowing. My heart was pounding. I

thought I could hear it thumping viciously inside of my ribs, and then I realized that was

most likely my insanity.

“Gerard, when you were gone from the school there was something different

about it. There seemed to be this emptiness; I didn’t want to be around there without
some one to make me laugh, smile, feel happy, and even secure,” she put her hand on my

forearm, “When you’re around me there’s a difference in my life. My ex-boyfriend just

didn’t seem that kind of person I loved anymore. It turned out to be you.” My heart leaped

out from my chest when she said this. My whole soul shook. My psychological and

spiritual worries seemed to fade on the spot.

“My life has been nothing but heartbreaks, heartaches, and heart-breakers.

Especially now with my problems and the danger I live in.”

“I know you hear voices.”

“Tell William to come back in.”

“Why?”

“He needs to here this.”

“Okay.” She motioned him to come back in; he wore an expression of worry,

surprise, and curiousness all at the same time.

“What’s up?”

“You might have heard that I hear voices, which I used to. These voices were

vicious and demotic, something you might see or hear on, lets say, the movie The

Exorcist. But, for the last couple of months there have been more than just voices. I’ve

seen things, almost died from them, and even had a face-to-face conversation with a thing

from Purgatory. Do you know what that is William? No wait, of course you do. Well as I

was saying, there have been some weird things in my life. I am apparently now a warrior

for God. I have a double-bladed sword whien I enter the spiritual realm. Now, don’t look

at me like I’m crazy because deep down you know I’m telling the truth.”

“I know.”
“What’s the spiritual world like?” William asked eagerly.

“I don’t know much of the world itself. But, I have seen

one of the infamous battle fields called Akeldma, which was basically all ruins.”

“No way that’s a real place!? One of my favorite authors wrote a really short story

about.”

“Really, what’s his name?”

“Leo Solfritz.”

“Really, I know him. I’ll have to talk to him about visiting. I should still have his

phone number. I wonder how he knows what that is.” I told myself. They gladly accepted

the fact of what I was doing and they believed me one-hundred percent. For the first time

in about twelve weeks, I felt glad to be alive.

William and Emily visited with me everyday. Emily would always drop William off and

come back to talk about serious things. But, when they would both be there, we all

laughed and had a great time. Their constant visiting made me almost forget about the

war I was fighting. In the back of my head I knew that I should have been focusing more

on the war. I cared more for my happiness than the survival of the world. Which

obviously sounds selfish.

One day, after Emily and William left, there he was again, and with a long

malicious smirk upon his face. He sat in the corner of the room, waiting for me to notice

him. He interrupted me an hour after they had left. I had been in the middle of eating the

chicken and dumplings I had been given by them. My reaction was something I will

always always be surprised by:


“What in the hell do you want?” I roared, spitting my food across my bed. “I’m

happy for a couple weeks, and I’m sure you’re in here to worry me or warn me that some

kind of giant monster is on the way to this place to kill me.”

“What? No I’m not the Golden Dawn. I’m the beast from purgatory that watches

you. I know, I resemble the Evil Emperor himself. That’s why I’ve gotten so many insults

over the years, like the one you just gave me.” He said with a humorous laugh. I looked at

him with a confused face. Then, I myself, chuckled a little. I got out of my bed and had a

brief look at him. He was much taller, his skin seemed to be a little darker, his eyes were

calm, and he had no top hat or tailed-suit coat. He wore a tight sweater, jeans, and a t-

shirt with the words American Gladiators written upon it. “I’m a big fan of the show.” He

pointed to the shirt and laughed, I couldn’t control my laughter any more. My breaths

shortened with each laugh. I felt like I became hysterical.

“I like you. You’re a lot different than the other monster’s I’ve seen. For one

thing, you look like a regular person. Also, you have a sense of humor. So what’s your

name? I’m sure you already know mine.” I was eager to know more about this one. He

seemed a lot more friendly, and might even have been a jester like Berson had been.

“Yeah, I know your name. Mine is Claudius. I’m one of the main people who run

Purgatory. I’m also the leader of our army.”

“Purgotorious has an army? Why?”

“Just because we’re in between heaven and hell doesn’t mean we’re never

attacked by demons, and even angels. They consider us evil because we’re not on either

side. Actually the battlefield known as Akeldma is on our territory. It’s our land, we

claimed the territory shortly after a legendary battle for it known as ‘The Slaughter Of the
Innocent’ when actually the only people who were truly innocent were the ‘slaughterers’,

otherwise known as the beasts from Purgotorious. There were no angels because they

already had more than enough land. But, I suspect sooner or later, someday, the demons

will try to attack us once again and we shall have to team up with perfection like we were

forced to in the Golden Age.”

“The Golden Age?”

“The times when Purgotorious was the lowest level of Heaven and there was no

such thing as hell yet. This period of time occurred before the creation of the physical

universe, when God had not yet created anything but Angels, and His Son. This was

before the Golden Dawn had received his name and he was better known as Beautiful

One, or you would most likely know his name in Latin: ‘Lucifer’.”

He informed me of more information over the next couple hours; telling me what

every single detail of every single dream I ever had meant spiritually and how the weird

things I had seen but never thought about enough to notice were always spiritual

happenings. For example, a brutal car accident that I had witnessed where five people

died in the same car was actually God punishing them for some of the vile sins they had

committed that day: drugs, drinking, lying, cheating, adultery, cursing, and rape. I was

astonished to here the truth, and definitely overwhelmed by it. He told me that when it all

came down to the truth, I would some day have to meet up with Jesus Christ, Moses, and

John the Baptist; not for battle, but for mere instruction.

The next few days were spent laughing. Sometimes, Claudius would steal me food

from different places so I wouldn't have to gag on the living food that all of the nurses

brought us. Emily and William’s daily visits started to disappear and I barely noticed.
But, my heart sank each day I wouldn’t be able to see Emily’s face. I became worried at

what happened. Claudius told me that the nurses said my insanity was coming back, that I

would scream foreign languages no one would understand in my sleep, I wouldn’t even

eat the food they gave me, and I would sometimes mysteriously play cards with myself at

one o’clock; when he told me this, I laughed my head off, the nurses came in, and gave

me an injection that made me feel loopy and eventually I passed out.

The sky was the darkest I had ever seen it, or maybe it was just night time, as I smoked a

cigarette and gazed up at the stars. I watched the black dome above me, and wondered

how if it shattered the whole entire human race would fly into the heavens. I watched

other galaxies around me, wondering if any of the other planets or stars out there were

being sucked into the infinite voids known as black holes. I remembered the scientific

facts I knew: we were spinning at approximately sixty-seven thousand miles per hour,

there were seven other planets in my solar system, all going a different at speeds, circling

a giant ball of hydrogen while my Milky Way Galaxy spun around with what scientists

have thought to be about one-hundred million stars, all made of hydrogen and other

various elements, and slowly, this galaxy was being ripped apart along with billions and

billions of others by the same infinite void I was wondering about five minutes earlier, a

black hole; which could have something to do with the creation of galaxies because every

single one of these black holes sat in the middle of every single of these galaxies, waiting

to feast or are already feasting like a giant monster. Then I realized something I had never

realized before: we are all made up of mostly the same elements: hydrogen, oxygen, and

helium.
“Sir, it’s three forty-five in the morning, you need to go inside.” The same nurse

who I had punched three weeks earlier came and told me, obliviously keeping away from

me as far as possible. I turned and I let out a burst of laughter because his nose was

completely broken. I thought it was funny for a different reason: we had so many nurses

and doctors but none of them knew how to cure colds, fevers, or even mend broken

bones.

“Hey buddy, come here.”

“Um, why?” I tried to be gentle with him, not to scare him off.

“Look up at the stars, what do you see?”

“I don’t know, the big dipper? Why?”

“Well I don’t see the black sky. It’s like a transparent glass to me. I see the rest of

the universe, the stars, galaxies, and when I look close enough, the individual black holes.

And past that I see the demons and angels whom roam the skies, fighting for our souls.

But it's really all dependant upon ourselves. We need to look up at the sky and pick up a

sword. Our tongue needs to be prepared to fight against dragons, golems, and serpents. Or

Vise versa.” I meant the truth, but by the end of my speech, I only wanted to mess with

the kid’s head.

“Whoa, that’s deep.”

“Yep. That’s how I roll.” I lit up another cigarette and

walked back inside. If he was another nurse I would’ve been told that I couldn’t bring in

lit cigarettes for health purposes, but this one didn’t care. The kid, whose name was

James, caught with me and just walked besides me to my room. The nurses had

moved me to a new room that had transparent walls. But they were only one way, so I
couldn’t see them studying me physically. I could only sense their spiritual presence.

“Hey man, I hear you like to play cards. Me and the security guards play poker

every Sunday night when all the nurses go home and don’t come back till around eight

a.m. We play until, like, seven. You wanna join one night? I hear you like to play cards a

good bit.” He asked me in a very shaky voice. His hands trembled.

“Maybe.” I walked into my room and popped open Life On the Mississippi by

Mark Twain. I was twelve pages away from reading every single Twain book. Charles

dickens was next and after that, Kipling.

I finally had some time to catch up on my reading.

I crammed mashed potatoes in my mouth, the only thing my nurses ever brought me that

actually tasted like food as I spoke about my life before insanity was cursed upon me. The

doctors decided I was safe enough to let me back into the cafeteria. I spoke of the past

lovers I had, childhood experiences, where I had moved to and fro, my jobs, my favorite

movies, and the different crazy things I did. When I got up close to these people I realized

how crazy they were and how sane I was: barely. They were almost one-hundred percent

normal. In fact, the reason most of these people were in the Nest were because severe

cases of OCD, bi-polar disorder, and other unbalanced chemicals in their brains. I was the

only almost crazy one, or at least I appeared like it. I wore the same t-shirt and athletic

shorts everyday. My hair was always messy and sticking up in every possible direction. I

wrote random words down on napkins, lunch trays and walls. In the Nest, I was the only

sane person. But, I was also the only crazy one.


Jason sat across from me in his chair, a wild look worn upon his face. His long brown

hair was disheveled and his eyes looked at me in a peculiar way. I did not know what was

wrong with him, but I did know that his reason for being in this place was rational. The

man looked as if at any moment he would try to attack. Since I first met the man at my

parents house, his appearance had begun to change and look more wolfish. We had

already conversed enough on this topic.

He was most definitely a sufferer of the horrible disease called Lycanthrophy. He

was a Lycan, or werewolf.

“How did you become this thing?” I asked him laying on his bed, trying not to

look into his hungry eyes. It was not yet that time in the lunar cycle for him to become

what he was. But, that look of hunger, the same one that scared me more than any other

expression in the world, always lingered on his face. He had fangs which were almost an

inch and a half long. He had bright, bright green eyes that made one fear for their life. He

was a monster, and I couldn’t stand to stare at him.

“I don’t know. I guess you could say I way born with it. But, the disease didn’t

into my blood stream ‘til about three years ago. I was eighteen. I remember my first hunt.

Most Hollywood movies say werewolves don’t remember what happens when they hunt.

That’s a lie. Bullshit. I remember every little thing about it. What the blood tastes like,

what the flesh tastes like. It’s all horrible, horrible memories that I want to take back. The

only good thing about it rush of air I get when I run. I feel like a new born child

experiencing things for the first time. Mother nature calls out to me when I’m the beast of

the moon. It’s the only I ever enjoy. The only damn good thing about being what I am.”

Jason’s voice scared me. It was very, very deep. Each vowel sounded like it was
scratching against the surface of a chalkboard. I flinched every time he would breathe in

between sentences. It sounded as if he was going to jump at my throat and rip me apart.

But, he did not do so. He was a good man with very, very frightening features.

“Other than that and the whole silver bullet concepts, I think Hollywood only

missed one thing.”

“Wait, what about silver bullets?”

“Well, they don’t kill us. Silver does, but not bullets. You have to use a knife.

But, normally, the weapon that kills us the fastest and the easiest of all is a long silver

blade. The werewolves originated in China and that’s the reason Samurai’s started using

such long and strong blades: to cut our heads off. Like zombies, we can not live without

heads. But, even if you stab me in the heart, I’ll live easily as if it had never happened.

We’re monsters. More vicious than even the most violent of vampires.”

“They exist?”

“Yeah. They only live in Alaska, Italy, and Romania now. Vlad, also known as

Count Dracula, lives still in Romania. But, he hides now instead of kills. I hear though

there’s a pretty big family in Washington out west that’s been making a big fuss about

life. My cousin has head a few fights with them.”

“Oh.” This is all I could say. I was amazed by the fact werewolves and vampire

existed and that there were also so many of them. I sat and pondered how no one had ever

truly discovered these people. It’s because they’re all like Jason: they’ve been put in

insane asylums to either be watched or studied. My thoughts lay silent for a long time,

neither of us speaking. Jason was now throwing a tennis ball all of the wall and catching

it in his hands.
Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

The walls said to me this phrase over and over again by the sound of Jason’s ball

hitting the wall many a time. What they were speaking to me meant absolutely nothing.

Again, the walls seemed to have voices and not ears like so many movies and books had

told me. To distract myself from the voices of the walls around me, thinking that I was

actually starting to become insane, I watched the balls across the room, bounce against

the wall, then the floor, and jump into Jason’s hand as if he was controlling with his

mind. Again he repeated the process and my eyes followed the ball.

Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t follow him.

The last phrase was a slight whisper; the voice of an outer demon. I cursed the

demon under my breath. The ball had stopped moving. He noticed something about me

was different. But, as soon as the ball stopped, the voices went away too.

“Throw the ball.” I commanded my friend.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He threw it against the wall and it bounced off the floor and into his hands.

Don’t. Don’t. The two words had come from the bounces. The first had been from

the wall’s and the second from the floor. The whole room was a living, existing demon.

“Don’t throw that again until I leave.”

“Why?”

“The walls…the walls are speaking to me again. They want me to stop. I can’t.

They want me to leave His Army and disobey the General. I can’t. I can’t, Jason, I just

can’t!” I was starting to shake. My blood began to boil with a hot painful anger.
“Gerard, calm down. It’s okay, bud. Just breathe. In. Out. In. Out.”

I tried it four times. Then voices came back. He was not bouncing the wall.

Nothing different had happened about my surroundings besides the fact that I was falling

back into the world I hated. The whispers were the oh so familiar ones of metallic

rasping. For the first time ever, I heard their message perfectly clear, their voice speaking

in a sing song rhythm that made my spine shiver and my blood begin to curl.

Gerard, why are you making this foolish mistake. You know, deep down in your

heart that my way is the best way. The way of destruction is the easiest path and by far

the most satisfying of them all. It’s so much more entertaining and risky. Death is more

fascinating, pain is more intriguing than the happiness of the other path. No, the other is

terrible. It’s rocky and arduous. You have to try. And do you want to try? Or do you want

to go through life easily? I think we really both know life like that is boring. Dull.

Monotonous. However, the road I have paved for you is exhilarating and blood-warming.

So, come on Gerard, follow you heart.

“My heart says no!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. The room started to spin.

It spun and spun for a extended amount of time. Then the room stood still. All the paint

on the walls slowly started to melt away like water running down the side of a bath tub.

Behind the walls was a sickly colored black with a slight tint of green. Now a horrible

stench filled my nose. I gagged and tried to hold my breath. Sometimes, when keeping my

breath inside of my lungs became impossible, I was forced to breathe in for a short

second. When I breathed in, a dreadful stench stung my lungs and my sinuses.

As the walls slowly peeled back, I saw what had been the truth I couldn’t have

ever wanted to know: Lucifer was sitting down smiling maliciously - the same smile I
despised more than anything else in the entire world - with a sinister look of greed on his

face. Again, he wore that wretched business that made one’s jaw clench with anger and/or

annoyance.

“Hi, Gerard.” His voice sounded creepy and almost pathetic. It rasped against the

hinges of its own sound waves. I shuddered because it somehow put me in a wretched

kind of agony.

“Hey. What do you want?” I stood in the middle of the room - if it still was a

room - talking to this monster with my body limp, making me look apathetic and why he

was here. An incoherent lie of course.

“Torture you.”

“You can’t touch me.”

“Who said I was going to touch you?” And in that moment a lighting shot of pain

surged through my body, reaching every blood vessel within me. My arms and legs began

to shake vigorously and with great pain. I fell to the black floor. Underneath my body I

felt a sticky black ooze that smelled like burning rotten eggs. The fumes made my head

swivel on an unsteady pole.

The ground hit me hard and all went black.

I awoke in my own personal room without memory of the event in which had

previously occurred. I stared at the ceiling in wonderment of why everything seemed to

have happened to fast. When I turned over in my bed to my right side, that horrible pain

shot up my body. But, this time it was only half as much as the pain of the first one and

also lasted for only about half as long. I lay on my bed in the same position for nearly

three to four hours.


The disturbance that startled me and caused me to roll over on my back, sending a

feeble shot through body once again, was the creaking of my door. Through the door

came Jason was again. He was not smiling, but he didn’t have a look of worry on his face.

He only walked over to my side of the bed and sat down on the chair next to it. He leaned

back and began looking at the ceiling like had so many times.

We sat there for three to four more hours.

“I’m being let out of here, you know.”

“Why, because you’re not insane? I thought they kept you in here so people’s

lives wouldn’t be endangered.”

“I never said who was to let me out.” His voice revealed a tiny bit of weight and

guilt under his husky voice.

“Oh. Who is?”

“I can’t tell you Gerard,” He turned his head slowly towards me in either a chance

to create tension or because he was scare. “You must understand. You absolutely can’t

know. But I can tell you one thing: you will see me one day again.”

“When?”

“I do not know. But, I have a gut feeling that one day God will let our fates collide

and we will one day meet again.”

“Will we be friends?”

“I certainly hope so. Good-bye Gerard.” He smiled at me and stood up, heading

towards the door quickly. “Good-luck.”

“On what?”

“You’ll know when that time comes.”


“Oh. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” And just like that, Jason left the insane asylum without a trace, never

to be discovered again. He left to dwell in my thoughts for the rest of the night, letting

dreams of haunting memories crash over me. The visions I had of monsters and evil

demons filled my mind, leaving me to twist and turn in the uncomfortable surface of my

bed. All I could do to take my focus off of Jason and this War was to sleep and dwell in

the memories of my past. Which I decided to do.

I woke up one morning sweating from the nightmare the night before. I had no clue why

this nightmare had occurred. It was one of many, coming to me spontaneously and

untargeted just to scare me and give me more to worry about. I left the thoughts of

absolute existence behind and began to dwell in the thoughts of insanity.

Now, I will describe the thoughts of such a state of mind because it indeed is

unhealthy to a human being. I can not imagine humans knowing and sharing what I have

seen and heard. The ideas that insanity has given are treacherous and perceived as

foolishness. But, this is reality as I have come to know it. There’s no escaping what this

truly is.

The staff searched arduously for Jason after his disappearance. Nothing about him

was behind. No fingerprints, no DNA, nothing whatsoever. The only thing in which he

left in the NEST was the memories that not swirled within confines of my mind. I was

stuck in disbelief with the fact he could just get up and leave with such ease, much less

escape undetected.

So I kept the misery to myself. I expressed insanity only at times when such a
horrible thing was necessary. When I did so, I made sure the people around me wouldn’t

do anything about my state of mind. They never commented to the doctors about the

things that went wrong with me other than vital information. But, things like talking in

my sleep and the occasional times when my eyes would roll back into their sockets, they

left unsaid and decided to turn their heads away.

Much less, I was left to suffer until God decided it was time to stop my suffering.

But, then again, every soldier needs his strength.

When my sanity reappeared significantly and my weird dreams went away, the doctors

took me to my house told me I could grab fives things that weren’t clothes. They had

already let me have all the books I wanted from the asylum’s library, I took a

few other things. I took a picture of my family, a few books that were impossible to find

in the library because they were extremely rare (altogether counted as only one object), a

few packages of papers, and paints and a brush. I wanted to paint again like I used to. The

splotches of paint with the square in the middle on my carpet were still there. I took a

photograph of it with my antique camera.

“You have the strangest interests, Mr. Singular. You know that?” The black driver

of my limousine said. He was always my driver whenever I had to go somewhere. He

made me feel cared for, safe, and like I was a regular person.

“I know. This whole thing with people thinking I’m crazy has changed me a lot

over the last several months. I don’t like it. I wish there was a place where I would just

escape from the world or something.”

“Kind of like your own Shangri-La?” The driver looked back at me.
“Pretty much.” I watched the signs and buildings whiz right past me. I thought

about how all the people in those buildings and on the sidewalk were all real people and

had futures and pasts. It amazed me. At the same time it scared me. My hands trembled in

what felt like fear of the war I was having to fight. Now, dragons were circling the air. I

was sweating but the driver didn’t seem to notice. I suddenly felt cold metal in my hands.

As I turned my gaze on whatever was in my hands, there was a ear-drum piercing screech

that made my eyes go wild. The double edged sword lay in my hand. By the time I

realized where I actually was, there were monsters and demons running up and down the

street, screaming and eating people. I could hear flesh ripping and I saw the blood on the

streets. But, this wasn’t spiritual now; this was a full-on battle in the physical realm

against demons, purgatory monsters, and the only human around that could fight-back:

me.
A REVOLUTION OF WORLDS

I drew my double bladed sword and curses the skies in a foreign tongue that I, myself,

didn’t even understand. I heard screams and they were all my own. I kept all the fear deep

down inside of me. Away from my thoughts. I only left the positive encouraging thoughts

to dwell in my brain. My blood ran warm with both fear and excitement. No pain could

even come close to taking me down now. I was invincible. Iwas insane. Through the

sword, power swelled from the handles and throughout my entire arms. My whole body

changed, forming into a superior being. But, yet I was below the entire human race. My

sins were not yet pardoned, but in some tragic sense, were still forgiven. I was the

definition of irony.

Dragons swooped down from all around. They were terrorizing people. Ripping

flesh, blood scattering everywhere. I slashed throats of demons. I crushed the skulls of

trolls. I quickly spun my blade, not knowing who or what I was killing. The only possible

way I could decipher was through the distinct pitch of a scream of pain. The high pitches,

the ones that made my ears shatter were demons; and, the low, roars were something I

had never even imagined. Of course, the human scream was the most familiar, thus being

the easiest to discern from the other painful shrieks. My hand shook with every blow. It

all seemed like it was in slow motion. How the blade always came down in a swift
and perfect movement and how each blow easily crushed the skulls of trolls, gargoyles,

and demons.

I could taste their blood. I thought I would die. It seemed rational. Demonic blood

had to be lethal. It was revoltingly black, too red, or the absence of all color. When I split

skulls, I didn’t even have the simplest nerve to look at the remains. I quickly jumped to

the next body, ready to take it down within a matter of a few seconds.

All the people were inside buildings, wanting to get away from this horrific sight.

I didn’t blame them. But, I needed something. I couldn’t do this alone. All I had was a

double-blade and an infinite amount ofadrenaline. Sure, killing a thousand demons with a

mythical double-edged sword is easy with the power of magic behind you, but what about

more dragons? What about if my Enemy appears himself? How would I defeat him then?

The trumpets sounded. Swords gleamed and so did the bodies of the angels as

they flew down from the clouds as they were opening. The Counselor’s face was in the

back, giving light to the cloudy day. But, not so much light as too blind us. The Angels’

white robes were a gorgeous flowing white, with swords gleaming identical to mine.

They had flowing hair, neither long nor short. All were beautiful and perfect; they were

the most majestic things I had ever seen in my entire life. They gave me more confidence;

the help from Up Above would be what I needed. I could breathe now, spit out the poison

and focus.

We all looked in unison: organized with better combative skill than any other

army on any other nation upon Earth. We didn’t move in troops or segments. We moved

as a perfect line; attacking monsters and demons close to us. We let them charge us.

Thousands more of these things were killed. More blood filled the streets and we didn’t
have a single cut or scratch on our entire bodies. It was beautiful how well all of this

worked, flowing like it had already been written.

I noticed that the Angels didn’t have long flowing wings. They had sharp cut

wings, built naturally with perfect aerodynamics and even specifically for combat only.

These were only the warrior Angels, the ones that were made only for fighting. That’s

why they were so graceful when killing and fighting. This was there purpose and desire.

I noticed a dragon riding high in the air. It had terrified me before the Angels

came, now it looked pathetic. I realized that it was too scared to come and fight. All it

could do was look at us from the clouds and observe the battle. It flew in circles, flapping

it’s wings slowly so it could focus on its own regiment of demons or a specific soldier.

When I looked closer I realized what was riding on it. The dark cloaked figure looked so

familiar and its laugh was so common to my ears. I knew I’d be scared to come and face

us. It couldn’t deal with the fact that I wasn’t alone in this any more. He had enemies to

face. Something that was above the power of human, a large amount of spiritual

soldiers. He now had to face his one true fear.

Suddenly, the sky blacked out. All matter and objects were now nonexistent. I

existed still. It was a black plane of nothing. The infinite void. I thought this was death. A

demon must have sliced me from behind or a troll had clubbed me in the head. I must’ve

had a painless death. I thought after dying I would sit in a waiting room to be called up, as

if in a doctors office or I would’ve materialized up in Heaven. Going straight to God

himself.

Then He appeared. He was laughing his evil, maniacal laugh. My fear arrived

lighting quick. I had no chance alone. I had all the chances possible. He wore the same
black cloak, with his hood up and a long black blade in it’s sheathe on his waist.

He slowly lowered his hood. His face purely made of rotting flesh. White with

decaying cheeks and his cheekbones thrusting out from spots in his jaw. It was disgusting

and revolting. My stomach churned when I first glanced at it in such a way that vomited

so much I thought it possible for all of my intestines to come out of my mouth. I looked

away and gagged. But, surprisingly, there was no repulsive smell from his rotting face.

His smile was eerie and gut turning. The human eye could not have undergone such an

evil sight. Luckily, I was granted the courage to stand there and fight. He slowly moved

toward me. Instead of walking, he floated gracefully towards me, as if he was a ghost.

But, he wasn’t.

“Here we are, the battle field of Hell. A place you’ve dreamed of before. But

never seen with your own eyes. Angels have fought here before against the same demons

they are slaughtering on the streets of Jerusalem as we speak. This is the legendary,

irreplaceable graveyard of many brave soldiers, both Angelic and demotic. There have

been many famous and infamous battles won and lost here by my minions and your allies.

“The funny thing about these two armies is that their names have been said and

used many times on Earth. Ever heard of the Axis, or Allied, powers? Or, the one your

probably more familiar with, that was main cause of World War II, the Nazis. The

destroying and murdering, of thousands, maybe millions, or His chosen people…I believe

the technical term that was used to describe their act in the human language is genocide.

The murdering, or in this case, the attempt of murdering, an entire race of a specific

ethnic group. I was behind that. I was the evil inside the man you know as Adolf Hitler."

“You’re a wimp. You couldn’t have just killed all of the


Jews yourself? I don’t know why humans fear you even the slightest bit. You always

possess someone, or send another demon to possess. You’re just too scared to show up in

person. That’s why you’ve never physically attacked me.”

His eyes burned with fury. He slashed his sword at me, leaving a huge gash in my

arm. Blood poured out on to the floor of the black empty void. Both our swords fiercely

clashed, my voice screeched with an unknown effort. Red and orange sparks filled the air,

raining electricity. But, there was no pain in my arm whatsoever.

I thrust the sword into his side. He fell to his knees, coughing up a

blackish/grayish gas. His hands disinigrated, and his whole body started dissolving. The

area gradually brightened as he also disappeared. Now, I had realized the severe pain that

was in my arm. But no blood continued to flow. When he had vanished into thin air, the

room spun and I was sitting in yet another room with a man who had very long hair. He

smiled when I opened my eyes.

“Great job."

“Thanks. Am I better yet?"

“Almost. We’re gonna let you stay here for a little while but then let you go.”

“Oh. Where am I?”

“Heaven.”

“Awesome.”

As it turns out the man that was sitting next to me was Jesus Christ himself. I

spend the rest of the day talking to him, Moses, Noah, John the Baptist, an assortment of

the twelve disciples, and Abraham. There were tons of biblical and historical celebrities.

They told me fascinating stories from their exhilarating lives. I found that all of the
biblical heroes were exactly like normal people. They talked regularly, walked regularly,

and didn’t even have the angelic flow in which I had expected them to have. I was

astounded by how human they were. After visiting with past friends whom had over the

lifetime of mine, they sent me back to Earth.

I awoke in a similar room: white with bright lights and machines everywhere.

Then I fell back asleep, reawakening in my own, very comfortable bed.

The sun was barely out when I awoke. My entire body was sore and stitches ran

up and down my arm. There was no blood. Nothing was covering the wound. The medic

had cleaned it up perfectly. I felt so awkward with my insides were burning in a feverish

fashion. It was just my hunger, I needed food. There were no pills or medicine in the

entire house. But, I needed none. I felt fine. Just extremely hungry. The rooms all smelt

like they were freshly clean. There was a note on the kitchen table:

Dr Mr. Singular,

You have been legally release from NEST Asylum. You are able to live alone.

However, we have removed all pills and possible medicine that you have the possibility of

overdosing on. You are medically labeled suicidal. We expect you to report here in one

month, April 1st, to observe the progress you have made. But, you have permission to

visit anytime.

You are to report back to work knext week, resuming

your regular life. We hope the very, very best for you.

Sincerely,

NEST Administration

I cooked bacon and eggs, devouring them as if I had never eaten before. They
tasted delicious. Every bit was satisfying. I wished the moment would never end. My taste

buds danced with joy. They were delightful to have their needs met.

I spent the day sleeping, not because of how much pain I was in, but only to rid

the monotony and boringness from my house. No one had come to see me. The Sword

still laid by the bedside, glowing brightly in the darkness of it’s sheathe. Apparently, the

damage that was done to the monsters was also spiritual. The physical realm and the

spiritual realm collided and clashed together, forming a temperate metaphysical state of

body. Luckily, by the time I had awoken, I was back inside of my normal body. For days,

no demons bothered me. Not even the monsters from Purgotorious came to visit me.

It was all so depressing: how lonely and scared I was. My hands were shaking, my

entire electrical wiring was ready for an attack at anytime, by any one, or from anywhere.

This was my downfall. I seemed to have gotten virtually nothing important done the next

few days after my attack. But, it’s not like there’s a bunch of important stuff you can do

while insane.

The night was cold and dark, the branches made a creaking noise. I was almost convinced

that there was someone, something in my house. But, it was just the constant fear that I

held those days. I was mentally scarred with fear. My eyes were constantly jumpy, going

from side to side. I thought I saw beasts of different kinds. But, they were all just part of

my imagination. Somehow, I needed to escape. I needed to have someone soothe my

mind. But, I couldn’t think of anyone. My mind went blank of help.

That's when Emily rang my door bell.


THE TRANSFORMATION

“How’ve you been.”

“Depressed.”

“I’m so sorry.

“It’s okay.”

“How’d you do it?”

“What?”

“Kill yourself; it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, I didn’t try to kill myself.”

“Then what happened?”

“I fought the devil.”

“Huh?

“You know, big scary guy with horns. I fought him.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“I mean I took a sword and had a showdown with the devil.”

“Oh.”

“You think I’m crazy, don't you?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m don’t blame you.”


“What did he look like?”

“Well, he wore a long black cloak, and when he removed his hood he had a

rotting face with black teeth. You could see the bones beneath his skin and his eyes were

bright, glowing red. When you looked at him your stomach would flip. It made me want

to puke. Honestly, something that ugly could never exist.”

“Jeez. How’d you cut your arm so bad then?”

“He slashed it with his sword.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Not until I woke up.”

We sat in silence for a long time. I ate the hamburger she brought me. Its beefy

taste made my stomach happier than it had ever been. I had only microwave-able food for

the past two weeks and whenever Emily would bring me something, my stomach smiled

more than I did. Which was quite an accomplishment.

She came by three times a week. Sometimes after school with me. The next few

weeks had been fun at school. I just told them to write a ten page paper on the main

philosophy of Crime and Punishment, it was due in three weeks. Most of the time in class

we talked about books, poetry, and art. I was just a friend and they were worried about

me. Everything was calm. Apparently, Emily had subbed for during me the time of my

stay in the hospital and the days I had not seen her at NEST. Which explains her sudden

disappearance.

I recieved a ton of gifts when I returned to school. I haven’t really looked at any of

them. Except William Hollywood’s. He had bought me a copy of the complete works of

HG Wells; and I read it two months. It was the best gift I had gotten in a long, long time.
My parents moved in to a near by hotel until I got better. We went out to dinner every

Saturday night, sometimes Emily would accompany me. Things started to get relatively

normal. I was happy again and felt great.

“Well class, we have two weeks left of school. And I won’t be coming back due

to a peculiar complication in my life.I’ve been haunted constantly by certain things that I

am prohibited to tell you. I will visit you when I am able. But, I will be moving to another

house in the city. Unfortunately the moving incident is forcing me to relocate jobs. I

honestly would stay if I could. I will miss every single one of you. Especially

you, William. You’ve been the smartest kid I have ever met. Fortunately, you are

graduating so you wouldn’t have to suffer my absence while walking around the halls.

Not to sound self-obsessed or anything.”

At that moment, the bell rang. I walked out last and went home. It was my last

class of the week. I had a silent drive home. I left the radio off and just thought about

things. Life. Death. Redemption. Salvation. I thought about everything and nothing.

Again, I had that shrinking feeling. I felt as if I was the smallest, unnoticeable person in

the world.

The dashboard of my car started melting spontaneously. Lights came into my

sight, and I tried to escape them. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how. The skies spun way

too quickly to be real. Flames appeared, then disappeared so fast that it was almost

impossible to tell whether or not they were actually real. Everything in my vision looked

as if it wasn’t real at all. I veered off to the side of the road silently, trying not to be

noticed by other drivers. I was successful in that, considering I was the smallest person in

existence. I decided to close my eyes.


That’s when all hell broke loose.

I sat in a circus. I was in a cage. There he was, with a stain on his coat. A dark red

stain that was undoubtedly blood. It was the stain I had caused. He was shouting to an

audience of millions, all undoubtedly demons and other evil monsters. The scenery was

bright red, blue, yellow, and green. This intimidated me. There were rhinoceroses, tigers,

dinosaurs, and other deadly animals with large teeth and fearful eyes. The plan was for

them to eat me. And I knew it. Their mouths dripp with saliva pouring down everywhere.

There were pools of spit as they looked up at me, hungry for my flesh. There were

tightropes, but no one was walking on them. There was a total lack of all circus

employees, excluding the Ring Master himself. He laughed and joked with the crowd.

Laughed at every possible thing about me that could even be imaginable in mocking me.

He knew this would effect my self-esteem, because he knew how insecure I was. I cried

all over the cage, weeping silently. He went from being a happy ringmaster, to having an

all too familiar malicious and murderous smirk upon his face. Murder lingered tightly on

his thoughts and desires. He made an announcement to the audience that I would be

devoured by all the animals that he possessed, and the only way I could survive would be

with my bare fists. No one had ever survived during this game, he said. He also warned

all parents to cover their children’s eyes if it got too gory, which it most likely would.

As he lowered my cage, the golden courage I loved submerged from the deepest

crevices of my heart. I knew the ability I had. I might just be strong enough to survive

this, I thought to myself. When he unlocked the cage, the tiger and his company sprinted

my way. I punched one in the jaw, and as it was flying to the ground I kicked it’s throat,

causing it to cough up blood all over the ground. It laid there and I drilled my foot
through it’s ribs, every single one cracked so loud that I could hear it with ease.

I Somehow managed to tackle the dinosaur to the ground and hold it still long

enough t viciously punch its face in. It tried to writhe away, but I broke it’s spine under

the immense pressure of my knee, leaving it immobilized. To make sure it wouldn’t

attack me again, I gouged its eyes out with my fingers. Blood spewed from it’s sockets.

Leaving me drenched in a thick black ooze that smelled like the burning of sewage and

rotten eggs in one. I vomited all over the floor. The stench of the stadium only worsened

after I had empty my stomach across the animals’ remains.

The rhinoceros had escaped magically, leaving me only a fifty foot snake to

attack. This was the Ring Master. It lurched had me at the speed of sound. I drilled my

knuckles into its face, but it lurched around and tripped me. I wrestled with it. The snake's

humongous weight almost choked me to death. I couldn't breathe. I felt my head get light

as a feather, and the floor began to spin. The snake’s hissing was like laughing. I started

to cry again, my death was way too near. How could this happen every time? I needed a

way to get out.

“Homni solo curoputo forinsum talkien carto sworso filliusio.”

I whispered under my breathe. Suddenly, I felt a

slightly heavy weight in my left hand. The magic I had just utter brought me my double-

bladed sword. I screamed at the top of my lungs and completely severed the snake in half.

Its blood was pure black, identical to the dinosaur's, and was oozing onto my feet, coating

the lower half of my jeans in it. The spraying of it’s blood covered my torso, covering up

the blood of the dinosaur. Every demon in that place disintegrated. I was the only one.

The snake had turned by into the Ring Master, his body laid there, withered and dead.
But, it wasn’t dead. He was just gone. And like the last battle. his body slowly started to

decay and my mind slipped back into the physical state of existence-the one I hate so

much. This time, I was lucky enough to come out untouched.

“So you’re saying he was a circus master?”

“Yep.”

“That’s nuts.”

“I know.”

I sipped on my drink and stared off at the sunset while Emily and I sat on the

beach. I was apparently in devastating car crash, putting me into a coma for

approximately forty-eight hours. Everyone had been worried about how much longer I

would live; which couldn't be long considering how suicidal AND accident prone I am.

We discussed the matters of the accident that had really happened. She seemed to be

extremely interested in even the tiniest of details. She wanted to know what the Devil

spoke like, what his beasts looked like, and even the music that was going on. It felt great

to unload all of this off my chest. I never had to keep a secret from anyone about my

visions and events again because now I had someone to tell. Everyone felt only pity for

me, and nothing else. There was no empathy, no sympathy. Except Emily could somehow

understand my condition and the circumstances I went through. My life was awkward and

lost according to what a therapist told me once.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I really don’t know."

“Any guesses?
“Some."

“Like what?

“The next event that picks me: an attack, a car wreck, suicide. Even though I don't

want any of it, I am forced to cope with my discrepancies."

“What do you want?”

“A girl who can love me.”

“Oh really?

“Mmhmm.”

“Well, you’re in luck.”

“How so?”

“There’s one right next to you.”

She took me by the hand, looked deeply into my eyes, and softly kissed me on the

lips. Her lips tasted like some intricate formula of watermelon. My insides burned. I had

never felt this sensation before in my life. The sun went away. But, yet, it was still light.

The brilliant luminescence came from her eyes and the way her smile glowed like the

brightest flame ever known. When our kiss unlocked, I felt something gripped my soul

tightly. I was so familiar with other sensations: pain, fear, and insanity, that I it took me a

few moments to recognize what this emotion was. I racked my brain for all possible

emotions. But, my brain was just an ugly, dusty shelf.

It was love.

I started to freak out. I was so startled to get what I wanted for once, to have my

prayer answered, that I unleashed out a flood of tears. I smiled the biggest smile I had

ever grinned. Larger than the time I first kissed a girl or the time I became an uncle. Her
smile was even wider. In fact, it was so wide that I had expected her to be the insane one.

Not me.

She threw her arms around me and held to me tightly. When I wrapped my arms

tightly around her shoulders I could feel her breathing. I could feel her crying. I felt every

individual tear fall onto my shirt. After a while my whole shirt was literally soaked in

tears of joy. The luminous light of her tears mixed with that of the moons and the scenery

was almost blinding. And when the brightness mixed with the glistening tears in my eyes,

I had to close my eyelids.

I felt lucky. It seemed impossible. This was a reward for the good deeds I had

done. This was a reward for the pain and suffering I had undergone within the previous

months before. I was blessed and I was happy. My hands were shaking. For once, it was

not out of fear or frustration, but out of pure joy. She kissed me one more time.

I never wanted to let go of her. Never wanted to unlock my lips from hers. They

were so sweet, and oh so gentle. But, I had to. She pulled back her face. I brushed her

long black hair away from her eyes, and saw a rose flicker within the confines of them.

There sat my angel, my Israfel. My beauty. My dear Juliet.

She was a rose by any other name.

And my heart pounded like a thunderstorm. The only way to hide it would be by

stabbing it with a dagger. But, not even that would stop it. You would have to pour

poison down my veins, and dip my heart’s stitches in contaminated wine. But, not even

that would stop it. You would have to drown it in the deepest of oceans, feed it to the

fiercest of lions and devils, and plant within it a bomb filled made of broken glass so

shrapnel would stick into the muscle of my heart, causing it to bleed and blood; leaving
more scars and resulting in more stitches which you would have to dip in poison. Only

then, you just might be able to muffle the sound of my roaring heart beat.

But, there was no way you could stop the crackle of my lightning.

Our happiness never seemed to fade. We played like little children whom just discovered

who their new best friend was. We kissed unlike children did, true, but never going to far

with it. Most of the time, we spent the nights cuddled and watching an old black and

white film. Sometimes we would put in the occasional foreign independent film and

spend the night not cuddled but leaning intently towards the television in either an

attempt to read the subtitles fast enough or just because we loved the movies. Amelié had

been our favorite.

I decided not to go back to the school. It was a dumb and moronic idea to go back

to the place where the majority of all my worst memories happened. So, I stayed home to

rest. The government - think it was the NEST - gave me money to survive on until my

body was completely healed. It was, but they would not let me completely go until I had

finished complete recovery. Physical, not mental. But, I knew they still thought me to be

mad.

She worked, however, as a substitute teacher throughout different high schools

and middles in the region. She normally didn’t substitute for one teacher more than four

or five days out of the week at most. Then she would come home on the weekend where

we would watch movies and cuddle and go to the theatre when good plays were made.

“How was work today?” I asked as I wrote a short story about some meaningless

plot that I had lost in my head through the ruckus of my thoughts.


“Okay. I substituted the guy who replaced you today.” This caught my attention

from the stupid story I had been typing away at on my ancient typewriter, not a computer.

“Really?” I had turned and looked at her.

“Yeah.”

“How’s William doing?”

“I knew you’d asked that. Oh, he’s depressed. He really misses you.”

“Tell him he can come and visit every day if he feels like it. As long as he

promises not to call me Mr. Singular or sir, he’s welcome at this house anytime he feels

like it.”

“I already told him that. Excluding that part about calling you those names, he

already knows not to call you that. He never refers to you as either. Ever since you left

you’ve only been ‘Gerard’ to him. Which is strange.”

“Good. I knew he’d catch on later. He’s a friend now. Not a student but a friend.

And my friends are far and in between, so I want to see them as often as possible. I

already see my favorite one every day.”

I came over and kissed her gently, then held her in my arms. I thought it funny that

we lived together and didn’t even sleep in the same bed. It was even funnier that we were

so obviously in love, but yet our rooms were on the opposite ends of the house. It was my

idea. I fought for the Creator so I desired to obey his rules. Well, not really rules and not

really guidelines but more of conditions: if you obeyed, the rewards would be

tremendously remarkable.

“How was your day, baby?”

“Eh, kind of boring. I wrote most of the day, then ate some food and slept. I feel
like a monster held in captivity. I wish I could find my paints. I have painted

since…since.” I thought of the bird I had painted. I thought of its haunting songs in which

came back with it. The songs of death and decay. How my memory had gone from

happiness to horror every time the thing that looked at me in my mind. I couldn’t believe

my hands painted such a thing that was so horrifying. How its eyes were sown shut, but

yet I felt its black midnight eyes piercing through its eyelids and staring into the evilness

of my soul, learning my deepest and darkest secrets. The same ones in which I hated and

hid from all thoughts and being. Every time my mind slipped into the thought of this

grotesque painting depression seeped over my horrible soul. Fear crept into the veins of

my blood. More and more I started to fear thinking whatsoever about art because

whenever the concept of art came into my mind that bloody bird, that demotic crow from

the depths of a most unutterable hell came to me unwillingly. I wished to pluck out my

eyes and slip into a coma with ease where dreams may surround me once again so that

nightmare induced painting could never be remembered again but within the shadows of

another realm.

“BABY!”

I was on the floor, convulsing violently. I felt my body go limp when I heard her

scream my name. I lay on floor still for a long, long time feeling her hands on my chest

and back, trying to do CPR on me. I guess, I indeed was unconscious. When one is in

this state, I realized, that we do not take in the fact other people do not know we see and

hear what they’re doing. It’s as if life stopped for them, and my whole body did the same

except my eyes and ears. I still heard and saw everything around me. But, they did not.

They were the ones unconscious.


“I’m okay.”

“Aren’t supposed to cough or something?” I could tell she was afraid she had

done something terrible wrong.

“I don’t know. My body’s kind of messed up remember, so my reaction to things

are probably kind of unexpected and different.”

I knew when someone had CPR and had approached from the depths of

unconsciousness, they normally would breathe hard and, yes, they are supposed to cough.

But, to me it was as if I had been asleep - excluding that haunting sharp pain inside me

and my muscles being sore after stretching and pulling against their own will.

“I’m okay.” I said softly and reassuringly.

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me, babe. I’m perfectly fine. Just a little surprise at what happened.”

“What did happen? You were saying about not painting since something and then

you went quiet for about half a minute, but I didn’t interupt because you were lost in

thought and I know you don’t like to be interrupted when you’re like that. But, then all of

a sudden you screamed in a high pitch voice and fell to the floor and started having a

seizure. What was that?”

“Um,” I though quietly for a moment about how to choose the right words without

creeping her out any more than I had already done lately. “A demon from my past came to

mind. And, I’m a lot more vulnerable to demons than you are babe, remember?.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Are you okay? You look really pale?”

“I know. You know how worried I get about you when things like this happen?”
“I know. I’m sorry. But, I haven’t heard voices or seen anything lately, and you

know that.” What she didn’t know was that under my bed I kept two swords that could

click together and become somewhat magical. What she didn’t know was that somewhere

in his house, Satan was plotting to try and either win me over to kill me. He did not want

to do the latter because he knew if I did I would be lost to him and sent to the Creator of

the Universe. Another helpful soul would’ve been lost. What she didn’t know was that I

was probably, and most definitely, insane. I did admit these facts to her only because her

sanity was more precious to me than mine.

“Yeah, I do.”

We spent the rest of night talking about God and life. We discussed matter that

probably didn’t ever seem relevant to us be we felt secure once conversed with each

other. Peace came over the both of us at night, I more than her, of course. I prayed to God

she would not be so worried about me, I prayed she would realize exactly say I was in the

hands of the Lord Almighty.

God, in response to my prayer, sent me a peaceful dream:

I was in the middle of a great sea on a small schooner boat. I could smell the

warm breeze and taste the mist of the waves against my cheeks. There were no birds

flying above, the sun was shining at the perfect brightness, and the water was completely

still and tranquil. I smiled as I leaned back against the bottom of the boat. The clouds

swirled and twisted into meaningless shapes that resembled nothing whatsoever. They

tossing and turning in the atmosphere made my body feel completely and perfectly at rest.

During the dream, I only sat and thought about the happiness I felt now. Nothing

such as demotic paintings and horrid memories filled my head. No thoughts of my


worried lover. No worries for my own self. The only thing was the smell of flowers

unexplained and the heat of a perfect son.

Fish did not swim by the boat. The only animal near my boat and me was a

pelican, just as peaceful and tranquil as myself, floating in the water around me.

Occasionally, the bird would look at me and nod slightly, as if to assure me I was okay.

Out of a sudden urge in which was unexplained, I jumped off the boat and dived

in the water. The water was warm and soothing, like that of a hot tub’s. Underneath the

surface of the water, everything seemed to be perfect and absolutely clear. After

swimming for about an hour, I decided to climb back into the boat and rest. Falling into a

dreamless sleep seemed to be my greatest desire after making me so relaxed in the warm,

soothing water.

When I fell into the abyss of perfect slumber where only darkness caressed me

and dreams escaped my reality, I woke up into the real world.

It was 10:57 a.m. on a Wednesday morning in April. The sun was shining bright

and I was happy. Not just because I was no longer troubled with the dangers I once fear so

horribly and terribly, but because I knew in almost four hours, which was just enough

time to finish my story, my Angel Emily would be arriving home from work. Which was

always the highlight of my days.

She was in my arms and I was lying on the couch. My mind was scattered. But, only in

disbelief. It was impossible, and ironic how she was even more beautiful when she slept.

It was even more improbable that I wanted her even more when her eyes were closed, and

her face was completely still. She looked like she was so at peace. Nothing in the world
could hurt her. Not even the demons and monsters I had faced. The world was just a small

matter at that time to me, and demons were an even smaller worry.

All that mattered what her and I.

And that’s all there was…thank God for that.

I made her eggs, bacon, and coffee. She ate it slowly as

we talked. We chatted about every possible topic available. We talked about the most

pointless of topics, and the most important of topics. Gas prices, and the weather. We

always seemed to be talking about the sky, rain, and snow. It was a fascinating topic to

the both of us; it was one of many. We held even the tiniest little things in common. The

only difference was our spiritual beliefs. I was a lot more of a hands on learner when it

comes to religion, if you know what I mean.

I felt so happy, so free. I thought my smiles would never fade; or the glow of her

magnificent, luminous face would never dim. Because, if it dimmed even the slightest bit

darker, my whole world would come crashing down. I would be left utterly hopeless. I

became independent due to the circumstances of being alone in the battle, next to having

the angels and God fight with me. I had wanted only empathy and no one to be my friend.

But, now that I had love, it’s all I wanted. I couldn’t let it slip out between my fingers like

so many things before.

She went off to work and I sat around and watched television. The news bored

me. The re-runs of all the sitcoms and reality shows bored me even more than the news

did. The only thing that seemed to entertain me were the old television shows back from

the 1970’s. Such things as Speed Racer, Tom & Jerry, and Batman made me smile and

laugh and just all around feel happy. The news only depressed and oppressed me because
of all the irrational stories and video clips that were being shown about presidential

candidates and their arguments with each other, rapes, convenient store heists, bank

heists, and riots. The only lie I heard that obtained my attention was a car chase; it’s

always been that way for me. Even the simple task of just watching a car chase gives me a

rush that would be thought impossible. I always wished that I could be the one driving the

car, either one I don’t care, because going down a highway at one-hundred miles per hour

against oncoming traffic seemed to be the thrill of a life time. The guy whom the cops

were chasing ended up pulling over and putting his hands on his head so the cops could

arrest him quickly and smoothly; which was a bad ending, in my opinion. I always loved

it when they would crash into another car and every thing would go up in flames. This

would make my blood run cold with excitement every single time.

As quickly as the sensation always comes, my head then started throbbing, the

room started spinning, and my heart slowed down. I knew something bad was happening.

Or was I just simply paranoid? Voices started whispering as some demon, or Angel,

started breaking through the Earth’s crust, or clouds, into this realm. The voices were that

of the Heaven or Hell. I couldn’t make out the specific words and concepts that they were

saying because the voices were so faint and dim. I only heard the reverberations of their

sound waves off the walls of my house.

I wondered if anyone at that moment was hearing sounds like I was.

As if he had always been there, I found Michael sitting on my couch in an

expensive suit with his beard completely shaved and his hair had a normal look. If looked

at from a normal persons perspective, he’d be observed as a pesky little entrepreneur who

bugged you nonstop about buying his products by either calling you at every possible
moment or ringing your door bell at the most inconvenient of times. Such as, while eating

dinner, taking the occasional nap, reading, doing the bills, or any kind of relaxing event

that if disturbed would simply have so much angerwelling up within that you might just

kill the person disturbing you.

But since I knew he was the Archangel, I wasn’t annoyed by his appearance.

Actually, I was quite excited. I never got visits from angels, only the devil and other dark

supernatural beings. So when I got a visit from something holy and good I got excited and

jumpy. From my observation, he was ecstatic to be there too. Which made me even more

joyful.

“How are you today, Michael?” I asked him.

“Good. And yourself?”

“Great. May I help you?”

“Actually, yes you can.”

“How so?”

“Remember when one of our Angel’s told you someday you must meet up in

heaven to receive instructions from Moses, John the Baptist, and a few other saints?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the end of times are coming extremely close. And we believe it is time you

receive your instructions to save the world. Well, not exactly save it, but kill all the

demons you can, and save the Believers and Soldiers that are left. There is a rumor that

his Darkness will be releasing the mythical dragon demon named Porenes to destroy all

Saints on Earth and to start imprinting the Number of the Beast on the foreheads of

Deceivers and the innocent whom are stuck in-between the dark road and the Holy one. It
is your time to kill the Beast of the Sea before it emerges.”

“When do I come with you?”

“After we are done talking here.”

“Oh okay. Will I leave all of my friends behind?”

“All but one. There is a boy whom we believe shares a great spiritual power that

very few people seem to have these days. That is the power of discernment and the ability

to read ancient spiritual texts and solve supernatural riddles. He does not know he has

obtained this power, for it is not as obvious and powerful as yours is. You know the boy

very well, you taught him before all this started happening.”

"Who?" I was clueless.

“I have told you all that I am allowed to tell you. The rest must be revealed by the

Council of the Saints. We must go now.”

As he spoke those words my body transformed. I felt something growing,

sprouting out behind me. A new part of my body was forming under my shoulder blades.

I turned around and saw a huge pair of long golden wings made of millions and millions

of feathers. The Blade was in two sheathes on my waist, one on my left and the other on

my right. I felt stronger, more Holy than ever before. My vision became more spiritual

and lot less physical. The creatures in which I had seen before roamed the Earth. I didn’t

see the landscape. I saw the entire Earth at once. I sensed more evil than ever before. I

was no longer human, now an angel.

“Congratulations. You are now a part of the Angelic army. You are to be

inaugurated into the Council of the Redeemed. I believe you are actually to be the

commander of them.
“Now, are you ready for a lot of new information?”

“Yes."

“Then let’s go.”

We took off, our wings flapping ferociously.

Within minutes I was soaring high above the clouds with the birds. I saw the

traces of city streets and lonely abandoned homes. I saw long forests and deep lakes. It

was all black, then the clouds meshed with it and all I saw was white mist and the golden

glow of Michael’s wings. He directed me right and left, up and down, and showed me

how to get to Heaven.

When my thoughts of Emily, my family, and the other students I had slowly

started merging their way into my brain, a black demon shot up from under me. The sharp

blade he possesed slashed at my clothes. There was a small, light cut on my thigh. But,

blood poured out of the cut. It didn’t bother me. I glanced a look at the demon and saw a

black cloaked figure. The only visible part of it’s face were glowing red eyes. There was

hunger in these eyes that tore my insides apart.

It took another strike at me. But, luckily, I was quick enough to grab a blade and

deflect the attack. Quickly we fought, my wings flapping and our boides floating there

likeghosts. My hands twisted up and down faster than ever before. I saw each blade flash

with silver and red. His was a glowing burgundy that looked as if it would’ve burned if

touched. His handle was embroidered with jewels such as rubies, sapphires, and

emeralds. It gleamed in the light of my sword. And all the while this was happening,

Michael hovered there about twenty feet from us smiling, watching me take on the

assassin. When I found it convenient, I took the other blade out of its sheathe in a
lightning quick movement and slashed it down the skull of the demon. With another swift

movement I decapitated the head of the beast and its body disambiguated and disappeared

into black ash. I slipped the blades back into their sheathes and turned to

Michael, gasping form breath.

Michael was grinning from ear to ear, smiling at my triumph. I nodded and flew

straight up instead of diagonally. We passed through the ozone, through all of the other

various atmospheric layers that Earth has. We broke the sound barrier and virtually any

other type of barrier that could be broken. We were going so fast , in fact, our speed

started to bend time and created a wormhole into Heaven. The wormhole a long tube

filled with bright colors such as blue, pink, red, yellow, and green. My body was being

pressed against its walls and the cells of my skin turned over and over and over and over

until they eventually exploded. Forming a completely new set of cells that match the

circumstances of being in Heaven. I felt a burning sensation in my finger tips and realized

that they were scratching off my finger prints. An entire new me began to grow within my

gut. My old feelings and emotions were being spilled out across this black hole, the

infinite void that I was traveling through. I felt my stomach lurch forward one more time

then I was standing in front of the legendary Golden Gates. And there to greet me was

God Himself, with the largest smile I have ever seen in my entire life.

“Hello, Gerard. We have been awaiting you,” His voice was like I had always

suspected it to be: a large booming voice that always made either a good impression or a

very intimidating and scary one; all depending upon the context of its loudness and the

acoustics of the room. “I am glad you made it here safely. I saw the incident with that

Arrow. Their race is coming back alive quickly, they're our first target of killing. But, we
must hurry and tell you the secrets, give you all of the necessary weapons and provisions,

and, of course, instruct you upon your mission.”

We walked quickly upon the golden streets. The buildings were large and

beautiful. Every window was perfectly clear and the stain-glassed window was so

perfectly and intricately designed that it mesmerized me into a Holy trance. He snapped a

finger to retrieve me from the spell and we quickly continued on walking down the street.

There were paintings on the sidewalks of Angels’ and heroes of the Earth. Saints from th

Old Testament were on there and so were all thirteen of the disciples. We turned into a

large church-like building. But, on the inside it was a long table with a ton of Angels

sitting like business men. But, instead of a bunch of coffee cups and lame magazines,

there were bright shining wings and wine goblets, filled with coffee. There was a 100’ x

75’ bookcase on one of the walls. It was covered with thick, ancient, and dusty textbooks.

Right away God sat down, grabbed one and looked through it. He shut the book, put it

back on the shelf it belonged to, and motioned me to come and sit down.

“You are one of a kind. I made you special. I have given you power, weapons,

skill, and most importantly the Sight. I know you know that your different. That you see

demons, beasts, and other various monstrosities of a hellish nature. I have decided to give

your instructions one at a time, trying to put the least amount of burden upon your

shoulders as possible. Yes, it is a hard task, but you shall do it.

“Now, as I said not so long ago, you’re first thing to do is murder all of the people

among the rising species of the Witchbreed known as Apollo’s Arrows. Apollo was one

of Lucifer’s main generals during and after the Demonic Revolution. But, during a civil

war within the land of Hades, Apollo seperated from Lucifer and took the garogyles with
him. He created a race of monsters that look, and are, demons out of the gargoyles he

stole. They are called Apollo’s Arrows. You must first erase them before they attack the

universe and make it crumble.

“You see, a long time ago these creatures ruled the Earth when Lucifer was

working on his evil plan that is in motion right now. Apollo controlled everything evil in

the world and would not let anything Holy by. He actually did a better job of keeping

Heavenly things away from the Earth than did his usurper. Around 700 B.C. I sent an

army down there and they wiped out the entire race. Now, three thousand years later,

these creatures are on the rise once again and we must make them fall. They are our worst

fear. Satan is still sleeping. When his Circus is unleashed, then we will have problems.”

He looked at an Angel and motioned a movement that looked as if he was telling

the person to bring something, or someone, inside of the room. The Angel left and came

back with the most surprising person.

William M. Hollywood.
DEATH WITH EXCITEMENT

“You know William.” God said.

“Of course.” I was astounded that William was standing where he was, stuck in

disbelief by the fact that I was seeing him, when I thought drastically that I would never

see my poor friend again.

“Well, he solves riddles, writes ancient tongues that no other human could have

possibly ever learned by being taught, he can detect spiritual beings, and see them too. He

does not see as many as you do, but still sees them. He will help you with all of the

missions except one. That one is battling Parones on the battlefield of Akeldma. Now

gentlemen, I know you must be tired, so I command you to go to bed and sleep for a little

while and when you wake up, you shall meet with Moses and John. Then, the journey to

Hell will begin.”

“Wait!” I yelled loudly after God had finished speaking. I couldn’t let this boy,

well, he was now a man, leave without hearing what had happened.

“Yes, Gerard?”

“I want to know, William. I want to know everything.”

William looked at me with curiosity, wondering what I meant.

“I want to know everything that had happened to me after I left Earth. Even during
my absence from school when I had been in the NEST. Tell me?”

William looked at God. In that look I saw William asking permission to tell the

story about what happened on Earth to me. And in God’s wonderful eyes, I saw that he

granted William permission to do so.

William then let out a big sigh and began talking.

“There were a lot of assumptions of where you were during you disappearance

from school. Ideas like food poisoning, cancer, small pox, a car wreck, and even suicide

came from the lips of other students. During your stay in the NEST, Gerard, I became

utterly depressed and began hearing voices. These voices became terrible, horribly

terrible in my sleep. I had nightmares during those three months you had been trapped

inside that wretched place.

“One day, Emily had noticed my peculiar appearance. My eyes held big-black

spots under them and no expression was ever taking place in my heart and even my face. I

had a look, apparently, that suggesting I was off in another world. My heart was numb, I

had no friends, and definitely neither of my parents would help me. My mom never

stopped working and my father always ignores me. So, I was left in my books. I read none

stop. I wanted merely to escape.

“But, as I read my heart began to ache more. And I never found out where you

were. One day, a week after Emily had asked me what was wrong; she came to me and

asked me if that upcoming Saturday I would like to accompany her to visit you. She

warned me I could in no way tell a single soul about your lodging in the NEST, and I

agreed, obviously.

“I thought these horrible nightmares would one day go away. But, unfortunately,
they did not. Actually, they did quite the opposite. Monsters came to me. Vicious,

bloodthirsty monsters. Eventually, Satan came himself. He tried to win me over. And

almost did. I know you’ve met the Evil before. But, boy he did not look like I had

expected.”

“How did he appear?” I was curious.

“Identical to a business man. He had a full suit and everything.”

“I saw him like that when I was on Earth.”

“Is that the only way he looks?”

“No, he actually looks like a ring master sometimes. But, his true appearance is

disgusting and I don’t wish to describe it. Ever. What else happened?”

“Well, we visited you. And when you left for good, I mean from your house, it

broke poor Emily’s heart. She went insane because she didn’t see what I saw. She

assumed you did what everyone else think you did. But, I saw it; I saw what happened to

you. No, you didn’t do what they said: you were Transformed. That’s when I realized

something similar was happening to me.”

Tears came to my eyes as I heard about Emily. I missed her. I missed her so much.

But, I didn’t know why such tears were trying to flow. I guess I felt sorrow for the people

who thought about me still. I knew what had happened to my body because I could make

the assumptions of what happened from the other times I entered the spiritual realm. It

was obvious, of course. I just wanted to know the specifics.

“I killed myself didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“How?”
“People say that it was an overdose on some drug. But, they never found any pills

when they did the autopsy. They say you poisoned yourself by drinking cleaning fluids.

But, signs of that strategy were absent from the autopsy too. So, in desperate need of a

cause of death to the school, they said you had a blood clot. I saw the records for your

death though, before I left Earth: they left the cause of death blank. The file was shipped

off to some special medical institute along with your body so their paradox could be

answered. I doubt it ever will be.”

“It won’t.” God spoke smiling, “I remember planning that part out. Thousands and

thousands of doctors and scientists will labor over your body and William’s too. It will go

down in the medical journals and history books as maybe one of the greatest mysteries of

all time. I had fun when I wrote that part in the Book of Life.”

God chuckled and motioned William to continue with his story.

“Emily went insane, but truly insane. She was not the same person, and she lacked

all capability of functioning correctly. Unfortunately, she told me, her and I were

spending time with each other a lot then, not like that, though, Gerard, that she cursed the

name of the Lord and told me that she didn’t believe any more because you suffered so

much and he took your life away out of pity. ‘A real god wouldn’t have pity upon an

individual’, she had said to me angrily one day as we were talking. It broke my heart to

see her go like that.”

“What happened?” I was on the verge of tears. It almost scared me to see myself

like this. I missed her short body and flowing black hair.

“She took her own life, right after I left of course.”

“How’d she do it?”


“I’m not sure. I never found out, unfortunately. I know you hate to hear this, but

it’s true. And you should know this. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, William. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I wish I could’ve, but there’s

no point in grieving over someone else’s foolish mistakes.”

“True.”

I smiled at him lightly, he reluctantly returned the smile. By this time, my tears

had dried out completely. I had failed to keep the sorrow in my heart where it was.

Instead, it slipped from my fingertips and brushed somewhere below me onto the Earth.

“Did you die from suicide too?” The thought hadn’t struck me once at all during

the process of our conversation. It was should’ve been the first question for me to ask

when the time was right. It just seemed random now.

“I did in the same fashion you did. No scars, no wounds, no blood, and no pills or

poison. My body had been left completely blank. Which was terribly troubling to my

family, more painful to my brother than parents?”

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah, his name’s Jack. He’s twenty-eight.”

“Why have I never heard of him?”

“Because things about my family are never brought up.”

“Where does he live?”

“I honestly have no clue.”

“Then how did you know your death hurt him?”

“Unfortunately, I watched my own funeral. When Gabriel took me away to be

here, I requested that I could witness my funeral. I was hoping I could somehow comfort
the people who were crying. Jack was the only one crying. I think he’s probably still

crying, his soul left off in utter depression wherever he lives now.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So what was if like when Gabriel had visited you?”

“He came to me, told me why I was experiencing these new things, and told me of

the powers I had. The only one that he showed me was the ability to understand weird

languages. He spoke in several different Earthly ones, and a few spiritual. He spoke in the

Ancient Language too. I could hear the foreign words to my ears, and I knew the fact that

they were supposed to be foreign to me. But, they weren’t. I understood every single word

that Gabriel had said. And, it blew me away.”

“Cool isn’t it?” God said, smirking humbly once again.

“Yep.”

“Now, Gerard,” God said, turning to me, “did you get all of the information that

you wanted?”

“Yes.” My voice felt shameful for taking up all of this time just to learn more

about her…

“I understand. You loved her and now she’s gone. I feel you’re pain a million

times.”

“I know.”

That was the first time God had hugged me, and all of the sorrow, all of the

mourning for my former lover was lost in His chest. I felt tranquil and at peace.

“Thank you.”
“Your welcome my child. Now go and get some rest.”

I dreamt peacefully, which any person could’ve predicted. I guess things in Heaven such

as nightmares and haunting do not exist because demons and devils are not allowed

within the perimeters of the Golden Gates.

When I awoke, I discovered that I happened to be in the same bed in which I had

dreamt and slept in during my last visit to this Holy place. There were paintings on the

walls still. I only ignored them and got dressed in the expensive suit-coat that was placed

upon the foot of my bed. I regretted getting out of the mattress because it was so

comfortable. I wanted to sink into it forever and ever, never to be awoken again.

Unfortunately, I had a meeting to attend with Moses, John the Baptist, and Jesus. They

were waiting for me in the room next to me.

I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and decided to leave my sword on my bed

stand. I still had a long beard on my chin. I decided not to shave it because I liked the

feeling it gave me. Besides, every other guy in this place had a large beard. And, like

every other moment in my life, and like high school, I wanted to fit in. Especially with the

Saints and Angels’.

There were more people walking the streets and talking. They were all laughing

and they all looked so incredibly happy. They wore the largest smiles I ever saw. They

were more than ear to ear. This happiness rubbed off on me, but I didn’t smile. I couldn’t

smile. I didn’t feel like smiling. I felt that if I smiled my focus on this upcoming mission

would spill out and I’d get too caught up in my own happiness. I also felt that keeping the

happiness inside of my heart would ruin the feeling. And it was too great to do that.
I walked into the churchlike building which I had been in the day before. This

time there were four chairs seated around a small circular table. The three people were

already seated in three of the four seats. They all were wearing regular t-shirts and jeans.

Except Jesus, he had on the nicest looking suit in which I laid my eyes upon. It seemed to

glow like a bright light and the whiteness of the material shone brighter than any snow.

He smiled, got up, and eagerly shook my hand. Moses, who had long flowing gray hair, a

large beard, and black thick-rimmed glasses, got up and shook my hand. Last, John the

Baptist, got up and instead of shaking my hand, he decided to give me a giant bear hug. I

enjoyed this. He was as I had expected him to be: a little more on the insane side with

disheveled hair. He had the jumpiest eyes I could have ever imagined and a slight stutter.

It sounded as if his words weren’t going as fast as he wanted them to go. Due to these

observations, I unconsciously diagnosed him with ADHD.

We talked and talked about regular things. I thought we would have gotten

straight on instructions, but we didn’t. They wanted to know me better as a person; they

already new tons and tons of stuff about me. They just enjoyed my presence. But, I’m

sure I enjoyed theirs more. Especially John the Baptist’s. He was extremely entertaining,

told the funniest jokes, and had a very sarcastic nature. Jesus was more of a gentle, shy

speaker and Moses was openly wise. He gave advice and wisdom which it was

impossible for any other human to conceive and understand.

Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle in no way even came close to the wisdom and

experience of these three men. They surprised me with every opinion, every outlook, and

every secret that they told me. There were hidden secrets in the world that could unlock

many things. No one had ever discovered them but these three men. Automatically, after
thirty minutes of talking, these Saints became my best friends.

Finally, William Hollywood came in smiling and with a tired and worn out

expression. He shook the hands of Moses and Jesus, and gave John the Baptist the

unexpected bare hug. Which made him even happier. His eyes lit up like white fire as we

spoke of secrets of the world. We talked for another fifteen minutes.

“Now, to business about the Arrows,” Moses said. I had expected him to speak,

seeing how he knew so much. “He used to be a general of Lucifer, actually his lead

general. In the Greek mythology he was the most heroic of the Gods. Actually, they

mistook Apollo for another ‘god’: the the Reaper. The the Reaper was a supreme mage of

Purgotorious. More good than evil. He has always helped us with our struggles against

demons. Twenty years ago, the real the Reaper was created, the first of our seven

generals, and his name was Jonathan Aguado. He was not the old the Reaper, whom only

took on that name for deception, but the first one. He now is an Angel for our army.

“Anyways, Apollo rebelled against Lucifer when he was slowly dying. He took a

third of the Demons with him. At first his goal was to kill the rest of the Human race, all

the remaining demons, and Lucifer himself. Fortunately, the worship he thought he was

receiving from the Greeks got to his head and he started to become the god they had

created. Eventually, he replaced the traits the Greeks had mistaken for the psuedo-the

Reaper and he made himself the god of the Greeks. He controlled and did everything the

mythology says he did. Slowly, his followers were being killed off as he was distracted by

the attention he was receiving. He then began a cycle called the Redemption. He became

a better person. As Lucifer was gaining his power again, he killed off all of the Arrow’s

with from God's army and Apollo was severly injured


in the battle. Right now, we hold Apollo in our infirmary. We promised not to kill him if

he would join our side. Fortunately he agreed. But, a tribe of the Arrows still roam the

Earth, and since he is no longer there controller we must send Soldiers to kill them off.

There will be three people: you two and the the Reaper. You, Hollywood, are to be

renamed Wilhelm Hollywood and are now one of the two heavenly Mages. Your powers

have already been granted to you. Gerard, you have already discovered what your mission

is: to kill the Arrows, and stop Satan's Uprising. You, my friend, must kill Parones, the

Horrid Black Dragon. We have your armor for you. John will give you that, and Jesus

will introduce you to Apollo who will help you kill the Arrows. I will go talk with the the

Reaper. Any questions gentlemen?”

“Not at all.” We shook our heads.

“Now if you will excuse me, I have business to take care of. First you two shall go

meet Apollo. I will see you within the next couple of hours. Good-bye.”
APOLLO’S ARROWS

Apollo laid on his bed silently as we walked through the door frame. His skin was a

reddish brown tint and his room had been dimly lit so his head wouldn’t throb. But, he

was healed. The staff was just too busy to change the atmosphere of the room. Also,

Apollo said that he liked the darkness of the room. It helped him stay calm instead of

getting furious at the very first instant something didn’t appeal to him, like it did while he

was King.

“Hello, Apollo.” Jesus said calmly. They acknowledged each other.

“Are they the two?” Apollo asked. He had a very scratchy and rigged voice. A

result from inhaling the fumes and flames of hell for millions of years. “A Mage and the

Vision?”

“Yes.”

“Hello Gerard. You’re the Vision, I take it. You look like they predicted.”

“I guess so.” I felt embarrassed.

“Well, the Vision is the person who sees more than even the Angels. The vision is

the third Archangel. The Messenger, the Warrior, and the Vision: Gabriel, Michael, and

you, Gerard. He fights, sees, and speaks every language known to God. Except the Secret

Language. Only you’ll speak that under certain circumstances, such as when you are face

to face with death. I believe you spoke it when you wanted to summon the El Dorado."
“The Golden City?”

“No, it’s the name of the double-bladed sword you have. It was once mine." He

paused for a quick instant. "I will lead you to the mountains and help you fight the

Arrows. Their a vicious breed of demons. I promise you that. As for Parones, I can not

help you. I became what I am because of it. My arm was torn off, and my skull bashed in

from the monster. The only reason I survived was because of Michael. He saved me, but

didn’t he have enough strength to slay Parones. It is prophesized that only the Vision can

save us from that black fate. Now, I am giving you my old armor, not the beat up one that

I faced Parones with but the armor I stole from Lucifer. It’s in the closet.”

John the Baptist disappeared and came back with golden armor. There were

ancient hieroglyphics written on it. It said “Then he broke the arrows, the shields and the

swords, the weapons of war.” It was from a verse in Psalms. I took it, it was light. What

made it even for of a perfect armor was that there was also chain mail inside of it. Also, it

was lighter than the suit I was wearing. Wilhelm looked at me in an amazed fashion. He

was a little bit envious, but not enough to be sinful for he knew his share of treasure

would come soon enough.

“Now, Wilhelm you are one of the two supreme mages. The twp mages are the the

Reaper, and Juggernaut. You are the Juggernaut. Being Juggernaut means you have

extreme fighting abilities, but are also extremely intelligent. In the prophecies it is said

that the Juggernaut will cause the slaughter of the sinners in the Council. This means all

the bishops and other Holy people that claim to be holy, you will slaughter. You and the

the Reaper will destroy the 'Nations', but not Jerusalem. Christ must be saved for that.

“the Reaper shall arrive here any moment, I will get ready to accompany Gerard to
mountains. We must transport to the foothills and climb up the way into the cave of

Lazarus, where miles within dwell the Arrows. I will have John direct you to the Hades,

so you may ready your mercenaries for battle, Wilhelm.”

“Who?” Wilhelm was confused.

“The Olympians, soldiers of the Mages. They are mercenaries that you will use to

kill the Evil Council. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now go with John.”

In a moment’s notice they disappeared. They had apparently gone to find the the

Reaper. Then after the preparations of armor and swords, they would leave Heaven to go

to Earth, and kill off the evil. Jesus talked with me for an hour or so until Apollo was

clean and ready to show me the way. He wore dull armor with a quiver tied to his back.

He resembled exactly what the Greek depictions of him were. I started to wonder how

this man was once called a pagan god, or even part of Satan’s army at one time. He was

another soldier, just like me.

“So, are you some kind of supreme Angel,too?”

“I’m just Apollo. I recently became part of this realm. I'm glad I did too.

Otherwise my death would’ve been very soon.”

We walked to a ship like object. It looked an X-wing out of Star Wars or

something of that nature. I was astounded by it’s technological advancements. When we

entered the machine, there were millions of buttons. Being the child I am I had a very,

very strong desire to press every single one. Apollo gave me a stern look that told me not

to press anything unless instructed to. Unfortunately, he didn’t instruct me to press any of
the buttons, pull any of the levers, or move any other scanners.

Apollo told me that this was a teleporting device that they used to get to specific

and precise areas. You would enter in the precise degrees of the longitude, then the

precise degree of the latitude. After that you typed in the name of the place, in case you

messed up with the coordinates, hit the big red button, and pulled the third lever to the

left that had a golden handle. When Apollo did this, my membrane completely came apart

and I went through the same wormhole in which had gotten me to Heaven with Michael.

My brain compressed then started to swivel on a single pole. Every cell in my body was

separated then reassembled. I felt as if I was in a science fiction movie.

We appeared in a mountain that had black snow on it. I immediately knew what

we were on and where we were: where God had appeared to Moses. I automatically got

excited and anxious. My blood started flowing faster and faster. My hands were shaking

because of how Holy the place I was standing moved me.

“I believe the cave is about a mile to the North.”

We walked and walked. The clouds were dark and slowly it started to rain. The

armor on our backs were still extremely light, causing us to feel every drop that fell onto

our bodies -annoying us eventually. I wanted it to stop raining. But, I was told that in

these mountains, every since Moses saw God, it rained twenty-three hours a day.

Apparently, we were lucky and had gotten to the mountain right when it started to rain

because the hour that it was not raining, the cannibalistic natives would come out and

would’ve tried to kill us. We could’ve taken them easily, it’s just that we didn’t want to

waste our energy. There were no wildlife on the mountains whatsoever, which made me

wonder how the natives lived. Then I remembered that they probably ate the oldest people
because of their cannibalistic nature. I saw one of the natives as I walked by a small cave.

They had green eyes, their skin was paler than the clear moon light, and they had sharp

fangs. They resembled Vampires.

“They are vampires. A Israelite vampire that can’t come out during the rain. If it

does it melts away almost instantly. I saw one last time I was here come out and try to

attack me: it set up in flames and poured blood across the ground. Creepiest thing I’ve

ever seen, and I’ve seen some scary stuff in my past years.”

“What happens when you get bitten by them?"

“Blood begins flowing from where their teeth marks are, then the bites swells up,

and turns black. Then your eyes turn green like theirs, your skin starts to whiten, and you

loose all senses in your entire body but your brain.”

“Why only your brain?”

“Because everything else is dead. It’s all shot; like a zombie or something. But,

unlike a zombie, you can think, have motor skills, and actually talk. But, when you talk

it’s like a slurring language. I believing this particular tribe has created their on kind of

dialect. I’ve heard it before. It’s like Mayan meets French. Oddest thing I’ve ever heard.

They're an extremely weird species of people.”

“Was Dracula one of them?”

“Dracula wasn’t even a vampire. He was a demon. He was put on Earth to take

out Romania. Vampires aren’t immortal, and they certainly can’t only be killed by a

wooden stake. One bullet to the brain will kill them in a heartbeat. Bram Stoker was a

little on the crazy side if you know what I mean. His mummy story was the only horror

fiction he every wrote that was one-hundred percent truth. You’ll be surprised how many
writers were wrong about monsters and gods. The only person who had almsot no errors

whatsoever was H.P. Lovecraft. That guy knew his stuff. Cthulhu did exist, but has been

asleep for millions of years and will with age. We don't need to worry about killing him,

He haunts people’s dreams though. You’ve probably seen him dozens of times. He likes

to pick on the people who can see into the spiritual realm. Lovecraft saw almost as much

as you’ve seen. But, there is the fact that you’ve been to Heaven.”

“No Wonder I love his work so much.”

“Yea, me too.”

“How do you know all of this information? I mean you just recently became part

of the Heavenly realm?”

“Remember, I was part of my own army for one thousand years, I learned tons of

secrets that only the Mages, the Archangels, the Council, and God himself know. I also

read a lot."

“Haha. Yeah, that’ll get you a lot of knowledge for sure.”

“Here we are.”

We stopped and a wide open cave. There was the smell of coal burning, the sound

of people chanting, and sight of little flames. We walked down the cave. Quickly, the

sound of the chants grew louder. That tingling feeling came back. I saw snakes and

spiders once again. The skinless monsters were on the walls, waiting to attack me. I took

approximately fifteen steps into the cave when three demons jumped out and tried to grab

me. I pulled out the sword. Instantly, I clicked the two parts together and took stance to

kill these things.

You will pursue your enemies with the sword. The voice rang inside my head. It
was His voice. His holiness gave me courage. I felt my heart burn with passion, my head

grew heavier and sweat poured down my face as I slashed the blade. The first slice didn’t

do anything. The second pierced some of the demon's scales, but the third split its gut

open and its intestines spilled across the floor. Rats poured out from the cracks in the

walls and started eating the guts. A disgusting perfume filled the air. Apollo vomited

behind all of this. He was watching, hoping he wouldn’t have to fight. I went up against

another monster. It’s tentacles wrapped around my waist. I felt my blood stop.

Quickly, I slit hundred of tentacles, covering my golden armor in black blood, and

slit it’s throat (the only place in which there were no scales.) More of these creatures

came out. I looked over at Apollo, he nodded to me and shut the gate of his helmet. We

both started screaming, cutting the creatures that were around us to pieces. Dead or not,

there were no exceptions. I would’ve died if it wasn’t for how light that suit was. We

started cutting through the lines and lines of monsters that blocked our ways.

“Verosium, Cifusiss, Soloion, Corioffiuous!!!”

I screamed in the Secret Language and a blast of white fire like chemicals came

from my mouth. All of the monster’s melted away. Their faces became distorted as I

heard their cries. My ears started bleeding because of how high-pitched their screeches

were. The scales on their bodies started to peel and it was almost impossible to watch.

The smell became even worse. I covered my face with my wings; Apollo opened his

mask and puked into the corpses that laid scattered across the floor. There were three

more explosions after the first. My tongue was hot from the flaming chemical that I had

spat out. More of the monsters started to decay. Then the rats fell out of the cracks, burnt

like toast. After the rats, there were bats, cockroaches, ancient birds, and a few of the
Israelite Vampires falling out of cracks and holes. I stared at Apollo, confused at what

had just happened. He shrugged, then leaned to the side and puked again. He had no idea

of what I had just done. And neither did I.

“Something to ask God I guess.”

“Definitely.”

We kicked the bodies to the side a walked past. The monsters, and sometimes rats,

were too big to kick aside. We resulted to stepping over the bodies. There were no

problems at all for about a mile. Then we had to decide which way to go, right or left. We

discovered on the walls large lettering that read “the angels cry to the East. And we must

not go with them.” The engravings meant to go to through the passageway that pointed

West. Thank God Apollo knew directions better than any other being, otherwise we

would’ve gotten lost. Never to return.

There were more bones. We could hear the scurrying of the rats within the walls.

It disgusted me terribly. I wanted to leave. But, the farther we walked the better I heard

the chant of the Arrows. Sometimes their chants would get loud, then extremely soft. It

felt as if they were trying to play with our minds; it was actually the acoustics and the way

sound waves would bounce off the walls. Their voices were low and eery. The tongue

they spoke was foreign to me. But, Apollo comprehended the words they said. I would’ve

easily had been dead if it wasn’t for him and his weak stomach.

The gassy feeling in the air, and the scent of demons still lingered into our

nostrils. It was only the burning of corpses behind us. I had the same supernatural

feelingI always get when I see these monsters or after I wake up from a nightmare. Bit,

unlike those times, I had courage. I could take on the world or any other threat. I felt like
a king. I quickly shrunk my self-esteem. My selfishness would easily get me killed.

I then heard the flapping of wings.

“Arrow’s don’t have wings, do they?”

“No.”

Out of a sudden passageway that conjured up out of

now came one hundred and fifty Angel Soldiers. They had long blades in there hands, and

shields in their other fists. They were black armor. The color of their uniforms combined

with the walls. Their wings had also transformed into a black color. The only way you

could know they were present was if you listened extremely closely, or they had the gate

to their masks down.

Someone came up front and took his helmet off. It was Michael, the Archangel.

Upon his breastplate was the symbol of the seven star: two sevens connecting with an eye

in the middle. All angelic leaders were commanded to wear this embelem when in

combat.

“We have come upon the Baptist’s command."

“We could always use help.” I whispered.

“We shall obey every single command, sir.”

“Alright. I have the first one for you right now.”

“What is that, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Then what shall I call you?”

“By my name, Gerard. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. Wait…”


“Under circumstances like that, you may say ‘sir’. But when regularly addressing

me it’s Gerard. I am just another commander. If anything, I should be calling you ‘sir':

You’ve been in the force longer than I have. What’s it been three billion years?”

“Four.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m just kidding.”

Apollo interuptted: “We have to Arrows to break.”

We laughed and got our swords together. We marched on. Miraculously, our

boots didn’t make a single sound. We swept through the halls quickly with more pride

than ever before. It was within a time-span of approximately five to six minutes before

we appeared in the middle of the Arrows' campfire. There were only about one hundred

of them. Their hoods were off their heads. Their faces looked like plastic mannequins.

Their eyes were like that of a cat’s. The pupil was vertical and pitch black. The eye

surrounded the pupil was a glowing dark red. Looking into their eyes made a soul tremble

out of pure fear. Our fear was inevitable. My lungs contracted as I stared into their eyes,

my forehead started to sweat profusely, causing my hair to stick to it. Apollo was

perfectly at ease. Breathing in sync with the rhythmic beat of his heart. The soldiers

behind him and Michael was calm too. It was only I who was scared. I was a coward.

The moment the Arrows saw us, they aligned in twenty perfect rows. Not even the

most organized of armies could’ve assembled as quickly, swiftly, gently, and as quietly as

these creatures did. Their hoods were up as they aligned within a matter of a minute. In

the front were the creatures who wore red armor. It matched mine. But it was not bearing
the symbol of the Seven Star. Their language was in fact not a Holy or Divine tongue but

that of the Greek. They spoke in which their original master had told them to speak in.

Their tongues hissed like snakes. Giving them their demonic backgrounds a more obvious

appearance. A seven foot Arrow came to the front of the army. He had his hood down,

wore black armor that matched that of the night's, and snarled with every step.

“Hello Apollo. I see you have recovered from Parones.”

Without saying a single word, Apollo grabbed the Arrow by the neck and pushed

him up against the wall. The creature’s snarl diminished and went away. Its sword clinked

against the ground, and rang throughout the cave after Apollo sliced off its belt. It was left

weaponless. Michael whispered in my ear that Arrows can no longer do magic now that

Apollo has left them.

“Hello, the Reaper.”

“What?!”

Identities switched.

In my ear, Michael whispered that there were two the Reapers. One evil, one

good. This one was the only evil one to ever exist and has never been killed. He was not

originally an Arrow, but after being adopted as lead general by Apollo, he joined forces.

He really never was a the Reaper - he gave himself that name. After Apollo fell, this the

Reaper took over and this unfortunately took away all the magical powers of his armor.

Well, it was fortunate for us.

Oh, I replied.

“It’s you’re turn to die. You’ve shed enough blood, Caius. You’re throat deserves

to be cut. But, first, oh Corpse, I have something for you to give me.”
“Oh God. You want the original manuscripts don’t you?”

“You know what I came for.”

“Follow me.”

“Okay, then your slaughtering will commence.”

“I know, it is our time to fall. We will go with out a fight,” He looked around the

room. “Or, at least, I will.”

We walked into another random hall that had just spontaneously appeared out of

the walls of the cave. I had no idea what was going on. I was getting more and more

confused. We were then in a room with thousands and thousands of demotic texts. The

Shadowian Texts, The Constantine, and even the horrid mythical text of the

Necrimonicon was sitting upon the shelves. Caius walked up to a shelf with a large heap

of parchment tied together. I learned later the string tied together was made out of the

blood vessels of Adam and Eve.

This world was becoming more and more peculiar

“Thank you, Caius.”

“You’re welcome, father. I have always respected you. But, before I die, I have a

question.”

“What is that my dear son?”

“Is there an afterlife for demons?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it called?”

“The lowest scums of Hell. That was the floor I ran, remember?"

The blood of Caius smeared across the floor. It was black like his armor. On the
creatures face was a look of sorrow. A tear dropped down it’s cheek as the creature

crumpled to the ground. I felt pity for the creature. How could it know its own death and

take it so willingly?

“I told it when it joined my army that one day I would

kill all my soldiers when I was done with them. I am done with them,” Apollo told me

solemnly. “But, it pained me to kill my own son, especially, slit its own throat. “

“I'm so sorry.”

Our blades easily slit the bellies and guts and throats of most Arrows. The

prophecy written by Apollo was being fulfilled. But, the ones that would not die did give

us a good fight. Our swords clashed, but through sheer frustration, Apollo set the entire

room on fire by throwing an object in which I had never seen before into the fire that was

burning before we came.

That was the easiest fight of my life.

“How come Moses said it was going to be hard?” I asked.

“He didn’t know that one day I would return to my own army and slaughter them

myself. He doesn’t know the secrets of Hades. Only Zeus and I do. But, during my

obsession of being the Greek god my name was given to, I killed Zeus and Athena.

Leaving me the all time powerful being on Mount Olympus.”

“Oh. You’re a pretty hardcore guy then.”

Apollo laughed, “I guess so.”

“What are those books?”

“It’s a set of holy poems named Zion's Ending. They prophesize what Satan's

attempt to regain world power will be like. From what I’ve read, we’re up to poem IV.”
THE CONFERENCE & THE GIVING

The poems, Zion's Ending, were written by the Greek God Zeus. He was surprisingly an

Angelic prophet. But, unlike Apollo, he was never associated with the Evil Army of

Satan. Zeus has always been a light bearer, was in fact never like the Greeks depicted him

(a jealous, self-obsessed, narcissistic, not to mention paranoid jerk). Zion's Ending, as

Apollo had said, was written as the prophecy to Satan's attempt to regain power, or what

was called 'the Unplanned Apocalypse'. No one ever thought it was actually going to

happen someday, excluding God and Zeus themselves. Apollo was wrong, we had just

finished filling the foretelling of poem three and were entering poem four. As we read

each of the poems, they got more and more violent. After a while, I could not even

imagine what this man was writing about and just listened to what Moses and God told

me.

“That was quick.”

“Yea, they went down without a fight."

“As always."

"So what’s the next plan?”

“We’ll let God tell you that.

The room we were sitting in was the same one I had originally met God in: the big

room with no doors, the huge bookshelf, and the long meeting table. But, this time, Zion's
Ending was sitting on the table which had been changed to a smaller coffee table with

eight chairs around it.

I smelled the smell of a cigarette. It was Apollo. So, it’s not a sin, I thought to

myself.

“No, it’s not, Gerard.”

“I forgot you could do that.”

“Everyone does.” God said as he slowly flipped through the manuscripts of the

poems, not even looking up at me-but, I saw him smile. In the back there was translation

of the poems in the ancient language. “Ah, here we go, the original texts.”

“So the other ones are wrong?”

“No, there’s just a few metaphors in the English translation that are somewhat less

understandable to me. The Holy Language is a lot more clearer to myself, especially when

written by Zeus. He seems to have a perfect structure to explain every little detail in the

correct way. But, honestly, there is no point in reading it.”

“Why not?”

“I already know exactly what is going to happen.”

“So why do you read it then?”

“For pure entertainment.” God shrugged and pointed out a symbol to Moses, the

John the Baptist, then the Juggernaut, then me. “Do you men know what that is? I only

expect Wilhelm to know it.”

“I’ve never seen it before.” John the Baptist stated.

“Neither have I.” I was surprised at Moses. He seemed to know everything. But,

knowing that he didn’t know something made it somewhat more impressive. He was, in
fact, human.

“Gerard?”

“It looks familiar.”

“Wilhelm? I know you know this.”

“Of course you do, your God.” Wilhelm chuckled. “It’s simple. It’s an old

equation. The explanation of how to build your own black hole. That star right there

means build a large amount of energy, but then the writer added a ring around it, which

means that it has to be the energy of Ra, the Egyptian sun god. But, Zeus put brackets

around both the star and ring, which means ‘Ra’ is actually you, God. Which will make

the building of the black hole a tiny bit easier, since we do not have to pursue the actual

Ra. Then, next to this picture, he drew a broken clock. Even an idiot would know that the

clock is a symbol for breaking time. So we must use Einstein’s theory of Relativity.

Which was a divine idea giving to Einstein by you. Then we must take the large amount

of energy, fuse it with the bending of time so we are able to fast forward time so quickly

that within a matter of seconds the energy ages, its mass builds up, and then collapses. Of

course, causing a black hole. Now, below the black hole, I know only God can see it

because it is only visible to him, and I, The Juggernaut, there is a picture of the Seven

Star. Which is a command that we must save use this Black Hole to descend into the pits

of hell and fight Lucifer's demons while the Vision battles His Evil face-to-face."

“Well done Wilhelm.”

“Oh, you knew it to.”

“Yes, but you described it better than I expected you could.”

“Thank you, sir.”


“Call me God, not sir.” He smiled at me. I laughed. It was an inside joke.

When Wilhelm finished with explaining about the different characters in this

ancient equation/riddle, John the Reaper walked into the room. He had long, long black

hair that went past his shoulder and down to his chest. He did not have a beard like the

rest of us. His cloak was thick and black. It stuck to his body tightly, making him look

muscular and strong. He had dark red eyes, which reminded me of Apollo's, who was

sleeping off the mourning of his son. He had long, bony wings that looked as if made of

metal. The tips were as sharp as knives. He didn’t smile at all when he walked into the

room. It looked like he had been through millions and millions of years of misery in his

lifetime. He had looks of wisdom.

“Hello, John.”

“Hello, God.” His voice was deep and rigged, like that

of Caius's. His words cut the air like knives, and dazzled his sentences to make a fancy,

intellectual statement. He seemed so much different than all of the other soldiers. In his

eyes there was a flame of knowledge, and behind that knowledge there was a cold river

running through and below the flames. This river showed the things he knew, shared all

of his deepest and darkest secrets, and reflected the sinful nature of the being looking

down into the waters of that river. “Hello, Juggernaut, Vision, and Moses. Did the fight

go well?”

“All too easily, my friend.” Juggernaut smiled as John sat down in the chair next

to him. They looked like brothers. The only difference were their eyes and Wilhelm was

now the proud owner of a big bushy beard. Wilhelm’s wings, which I had just recently

noticed, were the exact same metallic luster that the the Reaper had, which must’ve
symbolized that they were the two Divine Mages of the Heavens. They should’ve just had

a scar upon their heads like I had gotten from the bathroom in the NEST. It would’ve

been a lot easier to notify who they were. “When do we leave from here to go to retrieve

the Olympians?”

“Right now, after you finish with receiving your instructions.”

“Oh,. So what do we need to do or get?”

“This.” God got up and opened a door that was painted perfectly in order to blend

in with the walls so it could not be seen with regular eyes, or by divine eyes. It would

have to be pointed out to the person it was there. Otherwise, you would’ve never have

even noticed that there was a door in the middl of the wall. The handle was invisible, but

also there was magic placed upon it so that if you bumped into it, you would’ve never felt

or noticed its existence the slightest bit. In the closet were seven pair of white suits of

armor. There were shields with seven stars on each forming a circle. On the belt of each

suit was a sword, except for one. That one there was no weapon, no shield, or anything

like that. Under every other situation like this, my gifts or whatever I received, were

different so I knew the armor with the missing weapons and shields was automatically

mine. The carving of its chest, and legs structure slightly differed from everyone else’s

and I knew it was mine. There was no exception.

“Everyone, grab the armor with your name and take the weapons to.”

Sure enough, the set of armor that said ‘the Vision’ was indeed mine. I took it.

Out of all the other suits, mine was the lightest and swiftest. On the inside was velvet

cloth. Which made wearing it even more comfortable.

“Now, you must go to the caves behind Mount Olympus, and find the Olympians,
living next to the deepest and biggest mountain. They do not live in a home for they hate

darkness. Which, makes this mission easier for you two. But, there are dragons in which

surround their village, make sure no comes out, or goes in. You will need these sharps

swords, new armor, and secure helmets,” I didn’t get a helmet either. “to defeat these

creatures. There have been thousands of men that have died while entering these caves.

But, then again here is the exception that the only thing you have left of your human life

is the fact that while on Earth you still sinned from time to time. These creatures are

vicious, but, nowhere near as vicious as Parones. Now, you, Gerard, will have to gather

an army of Angels and face the Army of the Dead.”

“Zombies?”

“Yes.”

“How will we kill them?”

‘The best way to kill Zombies: guns. But, we have an unlimited amount of

supplies.”

“Sick.”

“Yes. I know you'll love it."

“So do I.”

“Now, Wilhelm and Jon, you may depart for you’re recruiting. The best of luck to

you both.”

“Thank you.”

A man, Gabriel, came in the room and whispered something into God’s ear. He

smiled and nodded his head with a relieved expression. “Never mind, Gerard, Apollo has

already gathered the army and is waiting for you at the gates. You will walk to
Massachusetts and destroy these things. I have been told also that the Great Ones will

help you."

“The Lovecraft monsters?”

“Yes.”

“They’re real?”

“Very much so.”

“Oh, this his nuts.”

Apollo was indeed, waiting for my presence at the gates with the same Army we

had fought side by side with against the Arrow’s. Michael was there too. Which made me

even more delighted. There was a bond between the three Archangels, we were all

brothers. It was inhuman. I smiled when our eyes met.

“Are you ready for this?

“I have been my whole life.

“Oh, you and your clichés."

“Isn’t Massachusetts your home?”

“It's where I lived before...all this.”

“Well, I got permission to visit someone before we must attack the city.”

“Who is that?” I had no clue of who I could’ve visited down there. I had cut all

connections.

“I believe her name is Emily.”

“...NO...”

I forget. How did I forget? I had loved her. I wondered if she changed. I wondered

if she still loved me. I wondered what happened to my body after I left. Did I disappear?
Did I fade away? I don’t know. What happened to the other when they became saints?

They died.

Was I dead?

I thought we would appear by teleporting or some other magical means of

transportation, but this time we jumped down from the clouds and soared to the ground

below. I felt the wind in the sky brush pass my face. Everything felt great. My hair

flowed, but not into my eyes. I saw the birds fly next to me. I petted the pelicans. They

rubbed their beaks onto my hand. Their beaks, their necks, the flaps on their necks felt

like that of a snake’s. Not the scaly, warm, disgusting kind, but the smooth, in some parts

rough, and comforting kind.

The pelicans became my friends.

The other Angels fell down from the sky, swooping in

and out of my vision. The breeze from the flapping of their humongous wings blew into

my face. And my heart jumped. This was life. This was more than life.

Then the screams came.

And they were too familiar.

I am the Reaper, the dreamer and destroyer of all things. Death some call it. But, these

descriptions are that of a extremely Holy manner. I do not kill and slaughter for that of

revenge or self-justice. I kill and slaughter in God’s name. Which, in someway is

irony in itself, once you think about its philosophical outlining and theological interior.

My action are ideas, and my ideas are practically actions as well.

Juggernaut and I traveled to the Mountain by flight. It was a quick and


minuteness flight. But, instantly the dragons of Deep Down sensed our blood, our fresh

meat. But, when I looked into my companion’s eyes, I saw no fear. I saw confidence and

pride. That of a true Mage. We locked eyes then lifted our hoods up, slowly and gently

striding through the trees. Our footsteps were magic, our breaths were silence. No noise

was sounded when we stepped upon twigs.

The dragons swarmed closer, and closer. The breeze from their wings could

barely be felt upon our cheeks. It was warm from their fiery breath. Little tiny sparks fell

to the ground, it was raining again. But, heat poured onto the trees as it sensed our

blood. Its eyes darkened with a deep black passion. Escaping was impossible. And death

was highly probable. We ran faster, attempting in vain to escape the dragons. There was

one. Two. Then Three. There were no more.

The Juggernaut swung out his blade, ready to cut throats, thighs, and drink blood.

One charged at him. He jumped higher than any leopard or rabbit could even fathom of

leaping, and miraculously dodged the flame. There were deadly fumes around. We

tightened our hoods, closed up our lungs, and pulled the masks of our helmets down just

to keep the intoxication of the fumes out of our lungs. I had no sword. For a staff was all

that was needed. Magic. No words. Just magic.

I sent twirling blue fire against the black fire of an almost black dragon. Only one

dragon could be black. The fire sat there and battled between itself like a child of which

toy to take and which one to leave, crying in the shadows. The flame was sent back into

the door of the dragons throat, followed by its blue, unwelcome visitor. It burnt its

tongue, uvula, and tonsils. I sent a spell towards its belly and the damage done was

worse than that of thousands and thousands and thousands of swords. It’s guts poured
out like rain. Red, blue, and black organs swarmed in a heap, then blood poured on top

of them. It was hands down the most gruesome sight I have ever seen. And I have seen the

Slaughter of the Innocent, the Genocide of the Chosen, and the Assassination of the

Greats. I am the the Reaper, I have seen all blood and gore. For I am the destroyer of all

things, death.

Wilhelm was slashing his blade. The way he did it was pure beauty. No man could

twist and turn with such grace, such perfection. His wrist snapped ad shut, bringing

down the blade quickly onto the teeth of a dragon as its fangs attempted to gnash at his

body. The blade sent sparks, raining electricity burning onto the grass below him. It was

amazing how focused he was. He swung up its legs, up its spine, and on to the top of its

skull. The dragon attempted to bite him, only left to chew the flesh of its bone. There was

nothing there after each attempt. He drilled the blade on top of its skull, and then sucked

it out. I could hear the blade being removed from the brain. The dragon's eyes exploded

and its body crumpled. Its pathetic corpse laid there, blood pouring out like a river.

The third and final dragon ran toward us, spitting flames around us. But, never

actually hitting us. He liked his meat fresh, not cooked. Our blades cut through its belly,

down its tail, and slipped off of its scaly body in a magical quickness. Our movements

were simultaneous to each other: he spun when I spun, he slashed when I slashed, he

brought his blade down when I brought my blade down. We were breathing heavily. In

and out. In and Out. In and Out. The beast fell face forward onto the ground, screaming

for mercy. I showed no mercy. I sent green sparks into its mouth, causing no breath to

come out. We burned their corpses, so other humans would not find it. The smell of theri

burning flesh was revolting, but the taste of it was oh so good. We devoured an entire leg
each. Leaving only the tendons behind, we decided to use the veins for arrow lines. We

twisted them with several other veins, stuck them together with a spell, and pulled them

taught over the fire. Causing it to never break under any circumstances whatsoever. We

the strung up the veins onto our bows, tested them by shooting a few blue-jays, decided

that they were indeed the exact strength that was needed: not too strong or too tight. We

walked through the mountainous crevices. Being careful not to be eaten by the beasts, the

cannibalistic monsters.

“So, how did you become the Reaper?”

“I just...was.”

“Oh. What exactly do you do as that?”

“I cast spells, the magician some will call me. I prefer the Reaper. It’s a more

powerful, majestic name. Basically, I do everything you don’t and you do everything I

don’t. Hence why there must be two Mages. If there was one, someone would be lacking

certain powers, then the world would be in even more chaos. The sky would be filled with

darkness and more dragons would fly. And if we had three mages, one would no doubt

get in his head that he was more powerful that both the the Reaper and the Juggernaut,

then would attempt to over throw both of us. There used to be three Mages. The the

Reaper. The Priest, and the Juggernaut. The priest was the son of Apollo, and tried to

overthrow us, like I had just told you. He was cast down into hell by the Council. He then

joined his father’s army when Apollo arose to supreme king. Then, after Apollo nearly

died from Parones, The Priest came above and called himself the Reaper. There is a

legend that there will be another Priest some day. Some think it will be this man from

China that no one will ever think of.”


“Who do you think it is?”

“Gerard, of course. It’s obvious. He teaches everything

correctly. ‘He Sings Truth to students.’ The Truth is of course preaching the Word of

God. He gives divine proof to the priests below unknowingly. While he was in the NEST,

Priests watched him closely. Every word he said was written down. It was not an insane

asylum, but was secretly a monastery. This monastery was for only the most divine of

prophets. During Gerard’s stay there, these Prophets learned more about demons and

nightmares more than any other source of person had ever given them. There is also a

legend that both the Reaper, and Juggernaut will one day die, then the Priest, or in this

case the Vision, will take over and he will become what is called Supreme Priest. He will

sit on the left hand of God, next to Jesus himself.”

“Wow. Whoever expected Mr. Singular was such a great man.”

“Gerard.”

“What?”

“Remember, no such things as last names exist now. He has had all human ties

cut off from him and has become Divine. You are no longer William M Hollywood, you

are now Wilhelm Juggernaut.”

“What was your human name.”

“Jon Aguado.” I sped up. My past was not to be talked about. Back when I was

human, I was a shameful man. A sinner. I was ashamed of being mortal, like every person

should. I’m touchy about my past.

We heard chanting. They were singing, packing for the journey ahead of them.

Which was actually quite short. We would just fly back up to heaven then get ready for
yet ANOTHER battle. I joined in on the song:

“All blood rains.

“We feel the pains.

“Blades melt with fire.

“Breathed on by the liar

“But, death is inescapable from this place.

“The Juggernaut will die with grace.”

I didn’t know that last line.

I heard a thud; Wilhelm was on the ground bleeding. A long sword pierced

through his gut, blood soaking my shoe. He looked up at me, trembling. Behind him was

a tall, muscular man. It was His Evil. There was no way. I swung my fists at his head. His

head snapped back, and I heard the bones crack one by one. Dirt went up in a cloud as

he fell to the Earth. From side to side, the Olympians shot arrows. But, luckily, not at me,

at Him. They pierced his side. The only movement he made was when the jolt of a

speeding arrow hit him in the side. Then he lay perfectly still.

Within minutes, we were in a white room, Juggernaut on the table.

“He’s dead.” God said. He didn’t even breath into him.

It was pointless. All hope was pointless. Gerard was crying on the ground, curled up into

a ball. Over the next hour or so, he would fall asleep, wake up screaming, fall asleep.

Wake up screaming.

“Why?”

“In Zion's Ending deliberately says:

"‘One dying, one living.


"A sword piercing through Veils unknown.

"And the living is crowned king.’"

“Wait, so this was supposed to happen?”

“Yes.”

“And you knew when?”

“Yes.

“SO WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP IT!!!!”

“I was fulfilling the prophecy. I had to let it happen. This won’t end unless we

sacrifice a few lives.”

“Why not someone else?”

“Because that’s not what Zeus wrote.”

“So what? You’re God, you can change it!!!”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I am the real Zeus.”

"And I’m Ruler of Olympus, Ruler of Purgotorious, blah blah blah Etc. Etc Etc.”

“Actually, you are."

The screams came from every direction. Right, left, up and down. I saw the dead walking,

their flesh decayed. It was easy to kill them. Our guns exploded their heads apart right

and left. It was the smell that was unbearable. Why was it that every monster that seemed

to have existed smelled like the most disgusting and revolting stench possible? Every

time I killed a monster, every time I had smelled something even worse than the last one.
And by glancing into the Reaper’s eyes, I would hate to see what he had smelled in his

life. I could not even imagine that horror.

These things attempted to bite me. But, I shot their brains out and I saw angels

doing the same. I had never expected to see divine creatures shooting guns, and reloading

them in seconds. I always expected these Angels to use holy language and just stare at

their enemies. But, as I shot at zombies, watching their heads blow off and trying to

endure this horrific smell, I realized that everything I had experienced about the spiritual

realm was nothing at all like I had predicted. It surpassed my expectations completely and

surprised me greatly.

Bullets surrounded the atmosphere as gunpowder rained out of their barrels. And

shots were heard around the city as Angels shot down armies of zombies. I couldn’t help

but wonder what this looked like in the physical realm. I was sure there wasn’t really

angels fighting on earth and that zombies weren’t actually walking around the city,

ripping bodies off and infecting everything.

But, I was mistaken. I looked at the televisions in store windows, and on the

screen showed us slaughtering these creatures. We had a more of a SWAT team

appearance but we were still ripping zombies apart viciously with bullets. The screen

showed the walking dead being shot down in attempts to bite humans. I was astonished of

how real everything had become. This was happening. Again, God had surpassed my

expectations and given me a surprise. Fortunately, surprises gave me an adrenaline rush. I

started slaughtering these things by the hundreds. But, that wasn’t fast enough. They kept

coming and coming and coming and coming. Michael came up to me in his glowing,

white armor.
“Vision, we have a request. There is no way we can do this with just guns. We

need your permission to engulf the city in flames.”

“What about the people?

“They’re already evacuating as quickly as they can."

“You have my permission. But, you can only do it once every person is out of this

city.”

“That was our plan, sir.”

“Call me Gerard, not sir.”

“What?

“I’m an archangel, just like you. You are equal to me, and I am equal to you;

therefore, you will not call me sir. If any one should be called sir, it is you. Got it?”

“Why me?”

“Because you were here before me, and you have more power than I do. Now,

Michael, we do not have time for this chat. We must get these citizens out of this city.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“Easy, chariots.”

Chariots of fire came flying down out of the sky. They were long and huge.

Engulfed in flames on the outside, but cold and comforting on the inside. Swiftly, quickly

and gently the chariot softly landed onto the ground. They were pulled by large, beautiful

centaurs. Their flowing black hair making it comfortable to ride. I didn’t even want to

know what these chariots looked like in the physical world because there was no way they

were nearly as beautiful and majestic and poetic as this. I ordered people by the hundreds

to get in the chariots. After he each one was filled with as many people as possible, they
sped through the air, still on the ground, and out of the city. While us three archangels

filled the chariots up, the rest of the soldiers continued on slaughtering the zombies by the

thousands. Never once did I see an angels get hurt. They were the best marksman . Not a

single bullet missed a zombie’s head.

“Their all out of the city, are you ready?”

“More than ready."

We flew up into the clouds and ready the flames. We took one last look at the

infested city. Michael had been right, we could not have done this with just guns. But, by

burning the city down, we could. Every inch of every street was infested with these

creatures. They were swarming like ants around dead bodies. I looked at Michael and

nodded.

We poured the flames out of big golden cups. Slowly, flames went from body to

body, to buildings. Then the smell turned into decaying, burning flesh. But, because of

how high up in the sky we were, the smell was like burning roses. It was odd, but

beautifully poetic. I was smiling. Trees caught on fire, engulfing the city even more in

flames. I was happy to have conquered this feat. When I looked over at Michael, he was

nodding and smiling, his eyes reflecting the flames from below. And in this moment of

complete under chaos as we were burning the city to the ground, with hot powerful

flames, there was complete silence. Not even the wind blew.

This was the arrival of God.

“Great job.”

“Thank you.” He put his arm around Michael and me and I could feel him

smiling. It was so peaceful because no one was dying. “Was this in the poems?
“Maybe.”

“Oh."

“Speaking of the poems…I have something to tell you about them. Lets go.”

He spoke these words and breathed across the city. With one breathe every flame

was extinguished. We saw the burnt remains of bodies, trees, and buildings. But, the

burning smell of roses still surrounded the atmosphere. He took his hand and rose it

slowly from his waist to above his head. Before our eyes the trees were growing,

buildings were being rebuilt and the rodes repaved. It was like he was fast forwarding

time, or reversing it. With one single swift movement of his hand the entire city was

rebuilt to its normal state. He was all-powerful, no doubt about that.

“God, you’re amazing.”

He turned his back and we descended into Heaven, “Thank you, Gerard.”
SCIENCE REBORN

The room was a normal room, so we didn’t notice its significance because it had no

significance. It was just a room. Nothing more and nothing less. God sat us down: the the

Reaper, Moses, John the Baptist, and I, to give us more information about the poems. We

thought we knew everything, and of course Juggernaut probably had known everything,

but unfortunately he was dead.

“Is it about the black hole?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

We sat in silence, wondering why God had called us all together to tell us

something so urgently. It was silence. Not the beautiful, poetic silence in which we heard

during the burning of the city, but the awkward ugly silence that everyone hated to sit

through. It was practically torture.

“As you know,” if a regular person, God would’ve cleared his throat either before

or after he said these three words; but, he did not need to because he was a divine being,

The Divine Being, and once he said something, all ears were listening. “Zion's Ending is

a set of thirteen apocalyptic, prophetic poems written by Zeus, a.k.a me. You had learned

that these poems were the foretelling of an unplanned apocalypse. But, they aren’t. They

are completely fake and wrong. Only the first five are accurate. I had created these poems
to deceive the enemy. So he could get his hands on the knowledge of our plans. The

poems in which are true, have been fulfilled and the rest are lies. These are not your

conception of lies, but a diversion so we may descend quickly into the deepest pits of hell

and destroy Parones. The murdering, or slaughtering-what ever you shall call it-of our

dear friend Wilhelm Hollywood was planned as to teach you that even in this realm,

dying is possible. But, in a different way.”

He sat silently.

“But, you made us believe what we were doing?”

“My motives were correct and are justified by this outcome.”

“And that is?”

“The death of a great power.”

“Why do you speak in these riddles?”

“Thought is the creation of wisdom.”

“Oh.”

“Now never mind you current news, hears a new headline: Gerard, John, and John

the Baptist, you shall gather together and create the portal to the staircase to descend into

hell. Moses, Jesus, and the rest of the Council will assemble and pray over this situation.

Well, not nescarily pray, but give our blessing over it. Now you should know how to

build this black hole, remember?”

“Yes, build up a mass of your energy so large that it collapses, break time, well

more of mend it into a circular pattern, and combine these two matters and of course fall

into it.”

“Don’t fall into it until you have summoned us.”


“That’s common sense”

“You lack common sense sometimes, remember Priest?”

“Yes, I know.”

I learned that we needed to build this hole in a void, the biggest void in space we

could find. The void lying within the constellation of Eradinus. It was so obvious, I read

about it somewhere in a magazine. Of course, the trip to get the destination was just

simply a matter of teleporting from here to there.

When we got to the void, I could feel the emptiness and vastness of nothing. I was

astonished by how simple, yet complicated, this thing was. I wondered if God had made

this specific void for the creation of this portal. He did indeed think ahead. To the end

actually. Well, there is no end, but to what I perceived to be the end.

Before my eyes, the the Reaper was twirling matter, or the absence of matter, into

hydrogen. That hydrogen swirled like a cloud of mist. The heat of the hydrogen slowly

became brighter and brighter. All of a sudden the molecules were speeding up, fusing

with each other. Due to the ballistic collision of these molecules, atoms of helium were

created. the Reaper sped up the creation of this star by muttering words of the a secret

language only know to the Mages. I would've attempted to write what he had said down,

but the words were so beautiful and magnificent that writing the sentences he spoke down

would only contaminate his words.

He took in a deep breathe, and slowly breathed out a bluish flame. The flames

wrapped around the star. This made the mass of the star bigger somehow. I marveled at

the magic I was seeing. The void started to fill up with the star. Forcing us to move

backwards.
John the Baptist took out a golden pocket watch, looking at me while smiling. He

knew I was wondering what he would do with this watch. I expected a magical

transformation, or the thing to mysteriously melt itself into time. But, as always, these

events surprised me once again: John raised his fist and simply broke the clock. The glass

shattered and pieces flew everywhere. When the glass hit the atmosphere of this void, of

nothing, it dissolved into nothing itself, disappearing into the vast nothingness of space.

Out of the watch poured a gold river of time. The time was broken, as it was supposed to

be, and John started twirling his hands into circles, grabbing the time and making it an

irreversible oval of broken time. I felt the magic in the void. This was exactly like a

science-fiction novel and it was entertaining. Then the Reaper and John took the star and

the time and mixed it. John stretched time around the star repeatedly and started pulling

on it tightly. It looked as if a giant gold python was surrounding the ball of hydrogen and

helium, choking it to death. The light started to scatter the harder John pulled on the star.

I could see it trying to grasp a sense of time, but time was being bent and was warping the

sunshine into the vast void. The star started bulging and wanted to stay in the period of

time where it could sit there and shine. But, it was forced against its will to morph into

the void. It transformed slowly into nothingness unwillingly.

“Quick, Vision, give God’s blessing upon this star.”

“How?”

“The Ancient Language!!!”

Instantly, without even thinking about what I was supposed to be saying, I

screamed the prophecy that was to be fulfilled: “Hold back the blood of time, and bring

forth utter chaos to bend reality. Create anarchy in the forces of science and make this
unspeakable to future scientists who can only dream of this occurrence. Father Time,

create this matter into a void so dark and deep that we can destroy the regular occurrences

of nature, and descend into the gates of Hell to fulfill your will. In Jesus’ name we pray,

amen.”

I reopened my eyes, this time understanding the language perfectly in my tongue. I

had become what the legend wanted me to be. I had transformed from the Vision, to

something else. Something far, far greater.

“Did you understand that?”

“I…I think I did.”

We watched the commencing of the star’s death. It was starting to be ripped apart

faster and more easily. I could feel the mass suck in the void and they became one

beautiful object. This made me think of Zen. The energy sucked in all matter and all

absence of matter, but us. We sat and breathed easily. Well, mine was a little disheveled

to the fact I was witnessing the collapsing of a star right before my eyes. The light shone

brighter than it was before the collapsing began, it was almost blinding. But, for some

magical, mysterious reason our eyes were not damaged by the rays of light being scattered

across this void. And then it finished. The black hole pulled in all sense of time and space

into the mixture of the void and the collapsing star. I could feel the mass building up, then

diminishing. When time started to be pulled into the center of this thing, I lost all sense of

it and any type of thought whatsoever ran out of my mind. I could not think except for the

instincts human nature blessed me with like vomiting and murdering. Luckily, my

instincts decided not to kick in the situation, or it would’ve been only more chaotic than it

really was. Which would unfortunately result in death. And we didn’t want to have
anything to do with that horrible wretched evil word, person, or idea.

“Gather around my children, for we need to put our blessing upon this situation.”

We sat around the table. Our hands were folded, this was the first time we had

been able to pray with all of us together at once. It felt like a homecoming dance.

“Let us pray my dear children, or bless, whatever you shall call it:

“I, the Father of Life, give my blessing upon all of these warriors in which stand

here today, desiring victory over the black dragon and his evil master. We know the

thoughts that will run through these children’s heads will be sinful and tempting for only

few are saints. But, only few are dead. Let our dear friend and brother, Gerard Singular,

defeat his enemy with weapons that are not swords. And with ways that are not things of

evil destruction, but let him create peaceful chaos with the uttering of a few simple

words.

“I bless the soldiers to destroy their enemies easily, and that these fights will go

smoothly. I know the result to all of this, but it is still an event worth blessing. Let the

Earth remain peaceful through these tragedies, and let all hope remain in the hearts of

men. Amen.

“Now, my dead children, I believe it is the time the slaughtering occurred. Men,

assemble your weapons, and clear your minds. The entire Council of Mortals shall end

tonight. This will be a huge tragedy on Earth. But, we must forget their emotions, and set

this Apocalypse into place.

“Satan is gathering his army, and they are stronger than all of you Angels have

every experienced. With the downfall of the Wicked, Lucifer’s power will somewhat
weaken. Go my children…AND KILL!!!”

The Pope slept silently in his sleep. Dreaming about prostitutes and other sinful

habits. But, he took pleasure in these dreams. He enjoyed watching these sexual

immoralities. Hence, the reason he died that night.

It was the night of the Passover. God wanted it to seem ironic that the entire

council of the Catholic church was killed on the night of the passing of the Angel of

Death. And that’s what happened.

An Angel walked into the rooms of each Bishop, Priest, and other members of the

Council, and breathed upon their dreams; turning them into nightmares. The Pope tossed

and turned as Michael breathed on him. His dreams turning from prostitutes and

drunkenness into crows and wolves: omens of Death. He sweated profusely, screaming

the Ancient language in his sleep.

He screamed: “MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!!! HAVE MERCY ON MY OH,

FATHER!!!”

Michael leaned over swiftly and quietly to his ear. “Not tonight, dear friend.”

The Pope opened his eyes wide, and in the quickest flash of a millisecond death

spun over his face, and the blood poured down his chest. It happened so quickly, and so

smoothly that you couldn’t hear a single yelp for help. The blood dripped onto Michaels

sleeve. As quickly as possible, Michael washed the blade of his sword off by opening the

window and letting the rain pour off of it. The blood ran into the sewers and mixed with

the sewage waste, never to be traced or found again. Michael turned back and smiled,

gave a warm, limp handshake to the corpse laying on the bed, and walked away. Leaving

the Pope to face his Judgment with God as all the others were being forced to go that
night.

In the rest of the world, the rest of the Catholic Church Council was being killed.

All in a different manner. Bishops were poisoned, the lying priests were set on fire, and

the higher ranks were taken care of by the Angel of Death, Michael. It swooped over,

breathed nightmares into their brains and hearts, and in their last moments of life as they

awoke, gave a menacing smile and cut their throats. Washing the blade into the sewers

with every kill.

That morning, the world woke up astonished. Over fifty church officials had

mysteriously died in their sleep, or were murdered by some cult whom left not a single bit

of evidence. The wicked no longer ruled the world, and Angels were free to roam. The

slaughtering had occurred, and was more shocking to the world than any other event

ever to have happened. But, this was trivial matters compared to what was going on in

space.

“God, we’re ready for the descending.”

God spoke to me through single thoughts, and it overwhelmed me. But, what was

even more overwhelming was the giant black hole swirling in front of me, gulping down

this void faster than I thought it could. But, the intense gravitational pull of our creation

did not affect us at all. We stood our ground, but occasionally, I could feel a pull on my

body. I didn’t think it was power of the black hole though. It was something else calling

me. Something that was stronger than this black hole. Something that I would not, or

could not, obey. I was even stronger than this pull on my conscious. I cursed Lucifer and

decided to mentally prepare myself for the upcoming battle.

My mind raced through the last couple of months. I guess, it had been a year since
I first met my enemy in my classroom. And I had chosen the right path to follow, with no

trouble of drifting to his sweet, honey smooth words that first time. I felt no temptation

towards following him. After all, I was the third Archangel.

Then my mind drifted to her, Emily. The beauty of her face, and the almost poetic

vibe of her voice. I missed her eyes. Her beautiful, almost gold eyes. My stomach lurched,

and my heart started to race. But, I had to accept the fact that I could never see the love of

my life again. And it was pure torture.

“Gerard, we can not come to you yet, the armies have to be assembled.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“You and Apollo must gather the Hades from their Cell in Heaven and arm them

with weapons.”

“Yes, sir. But, where is Apollo?”

“He is waiting for you in his room. Go…now.”


HEROES ARE NEVER THE VILLAINS

The wind screamed through my ears as I lurched through time to Heaven. I saw the colors

spin, and I saw ticking seconds melt into one long line of emptiness. Breaking through the

surface of eternity with power, the glass of time shattered easily. Not cutting a single part

of my body.

The portal I flew through had the temperature of ice. It was cold to my skin after

breaking through the confines of time. However, I was accustomed no to this chilling air.

I longer feared the artic-like atmosphere that now surrounded me. Actually, I fancied it

quite a bit. Even though the air was intended to cut against my cheek like glass, even

though the air was intended to hurt me greatly, I laughed and enjoyed the feeling.

I let my wings glide through the air, not putting any effort in them whatsoever to

make them move. I just flowed with the river of pouring time. The portal brought me

wherever I desired to go. No worries of what lay behind me surrounded my soul, neither

did thoughts of what was ahead of me trouble my being. The only thoughts occurring in

my mind was the enjoyment of the chilling around me.

The color of the portal was bright blue, almost white. It suited the cold

temperatures perfectly. But, as I approached the gateway into the Heavens, its tint slowly

became whiter and whiter. By the time I was standing directly in front of the door itself

the swirling air around me had become as white as the place I was about to enter. It
swirled peacefully as I lay my hand on the door knob in front of me. The door was the

exact same color of the swirling matter around me - whatever it was made of. The

doorknob was black though, only for the purpose of being able to catch my attention.

When I opened the door a warm soothing air brushed up against my face. I smiled

widely and focused my mind on the task I was ordered to do. I walked quickly down the

streets of Heaven, not noticing what buildings surrounded me. Normally, I never did such

thing. Regularly, I engulfed myself in examining the beautiful surrounding I put myself

in. This time it was not the case. My thoughts were surprisingly focused; and my steps

were unusually long, causing my feet to come down harder on the golden bricks beneath

my feet.

After five minutes of walking hardly and quickly, I reached the familiar door of

Apollo’s house. His house was tall and had one long window on top. The long window

covered half of the front of the house, but one could not see inside from the streets. It was

a one way window, looking more like a mirror or thick glass than a window. The door

was a darkish gold that approached a light brown. The doorknob was pure crystal. I

turned it and ran up the stairs to his room.

Apollo sat waiting on his bed. His intimidating face stared straight through my

heart. And I shook, he wasn’t furious. Nor was he impatient. I just seemed to constantly

forget that his face was this frozen because of all of his years in Hell. It scared me to think

of what was happening just now. But, my fear withered away quickly when our

conversation started. When our mission started.

“Where are the Olympians?”

“In the back of building 777.”


“Have they been there ever since we captured them?”

“Haven’t moved since then.”

“Great.”

We walked quickly through the streets of gold. The sparkling, dazzling look of the

beautiful buildings always left me dumbfounded. But, in the midst of the Unplanned

Apocalypse, this beauty did not distract me from my fate one bit.

Finally, we reached the building intended to be a prison for captives of the Trinity.

Here were demons who surrendered during battle, and I heard their low screams. It long

and tall building; off white in color. There were no windows at all and the door could

only be opened from the outside or with a key, which Apollo had. He unlocked the door

and looked inside quickly. Then he shut the door and turned to me.

“Now, in here will be treacherous monsters. Demons of horrible sight you have

never seen are entombed within the cages of this building. Do not fear, they can only be

let out if you let them out. Harm will not come from them. Also, the main beings who

live in this building, excluding the Olympians, are from Pergotorious. You should already

know what that place is. The monsters in here are utterly terrifying.”

“I know. Well, I don’t know but I did expect it.”

“Okay, good. Now, let’s go.” He kicked open the door, pulling out his blade and

gripping it tightly. The El Dorado sat silently in its sheathes. I walked about a foot behind

Apollo, absorbed the monsters encaged around me.

They were horrifying. Some had long scaly tentacles and sharp teeth at most a

meter long. Some where 100 feet tall and 50 feet wide, others were relatively small. The

smaller ones had a vicious growl and dark skin that made me shiver. All of their eyes
were dark and bloodthirsty, desiring to be released into the world once again so that they

may fear upon the living. There were monsters I had read about, all of them from

Lovecraft tales of horror. The reality of the nightmarish things I once envisioned during

my days on Earth became inescapable and I could not face the fact such atrocities did

actually exist.

Monsters were everywhere it seemed.

In one cell lay a dragon colored blood red. Its teeth and claws were extremely

sharp and terrifying. When we walked by, the beast blew a breath of hot scorching

flames. But, the flames reached no further than an inch behind the cell bars. There was

some kind of magic shield on the cell. The dragon looked directly at me in anger, and

through my thoughts, which it must’ve heard, I told it a message.

It’s okay. Don’t worry, this’ll all be over soon. Maybe I can persuade God to let

you out. But, only if you’ll be tame and become mine. Okay?

The dragon cave me a slow nod and it crawled back into the corner and went to

sleep. Apollo gave me a strange look and continued to walk on. I smiled until we reached

the cell that the Olympians had been kept in.

Like the rest of what was supposed to be metal in Heaven, the cell we kept the

Olympians in was also golden, but the bars were a little faded from the thrashing and

running around these things did. Next to the Olympians’ cage there was another one just

as populated theirs. It was filled with creatures from Pergotorious. I searched and

examined what they looked like. They all had the appearance of a demon, a few having

the appearance of regular humans. Then, the last monster/creature I laid eyes upon was

the only one in which I recognized.


Against the wall of cell 249 was Berson, my friend from Pergotorious. His face

was sad and miserable. He sat huddled in the back of the cell, head between his knees,

and it sounded like he was crying. But, then I remembered he was just simply breathing.

Nothing really changed besides his facial expression.

When I looked at him, Berson did the same. When he saw me he jumped up and

ran to the doors of his cell. A smile erupted from his skinless face. I looked into his deep,

black eyes. Emotions of misery and loneliness filled his irises. I couldn’t stand to see him

like this. It actually hurt me to see it.

“Gerard?” He spoke to me, his voice raspy and funny. The exact way I

remembered it during our time together at the nest.

“Berson?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“And it’s me.”

“Why are you here?”

“The Olympians are needed for a battle.”

“Oh, I was hope you were coming for some of us. Not those vicious fiends.”

“I know. Well, we were coming for them. But, if you wish I can let you go. I know

you’re a good hearted creature. But, I don’t know if I’m actually allowed to. Remember,

your kind doesn’t fight for either creator.”

“We have changed. We have turned to the Light. We looked at it from a different

angle and read the Bibles that were in our cells. We realized how good and great and

graceful God can be. We decided that if we weren’t following neither God nor Satan that

we were indeed for the Evil One himself. Our kingdom had no ruler, no king. And a
decision was made that our king shall be the one and only King.”

“Then why are you still here in this awfully wretched cell?”

“Because, only two thirds of us have chosen this path. There are still some who

wish to dwell in the days of evil. Some will lie to get released. But, everyone in my

individual cell believes and chose the narrow path to righteousness. If you let me go,

please allow my whole cell to be released. Please.”

“Okay, I will. I know here in Heaven a sin is impossible so you are not lying. And

I know you, you would never speak a lie to me. And thank you, we need all the help our

army can get. With about a hundred of you and about who knows how many Olympians,

we have a really good chance of winning this fight.”

“Thank you, you are truly a soldier of God.”

I took out the key to my friends cell and unlocked it. He and the rest of his

inmates in that particular cell walked out and into the main passageway of where we were

standing. Once their bodies hit the air, a transformation occurred over everyone single

one. They took upon the appearance of not demons, not monsters, but Angels. They all

turned into humanoid skeletons. Berson obtained a layer of dark skin that was almost

brown. His hair was a little past his ears and black, his eyes turned from a miserable black

to a light brown. I could see the chemicals in his irises floating and swirling as they took

on the form of a regular pupil and not a cat-like shape. He was now a beautiful man,

smiling with a perfect set of teeth. The rest of his friends looked the same and smiled

widely, thanking him for doing such thing. Berson was happier than ever.

“Thank you, my friend.”

And wings grew on the back of him.


“You’re welcome. I give you the privilege of being the leader of your army.

Congratulations.”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“Call me, Gerard.” I insisted playfully.

“Thank you, Gerard.”

“You’re welcome, Berson.”

“Call me…Elijah Merry.”

“I’m just going to go with Elijah.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Gerard, let’s go.” Apollo gave me a scowling look, which I knew commanded

me to press on with my job.

We started running as we heard low growls. I didn’t panic. And I don’t think

Apollo could panic in any way possible. He pulled out his arrows, put away his sword,

and I pulled out the El Dorado, preparing for a blood fest once again. But, what was there

surprised me entirely.

A large wolf standing on its hind legs.

“Hello, my dear Apollo…” The wolf’s voice was handsome and smooth. And

extremely familiar. I wondered what the thing was and how it could talk. Then my gaze

drifted to its eyes and I realized who and what it was. A werewolf. I was so astonished, so

utterly left in amazement that I didn’t move for several minutes.

“Jason?” I barely uttered the name out of disbelief.

“Hello, Gerard.” Now, that I realized who it was and got over the belief of a

man/wolf I had not even thought about since being at the insane asylum and after his
disappearance one night, his voice and words sounded more like a growl than words

itself. But, somehow I actually understood them.

When I glance at Apollo, I was astonished to see that on his face was not a look of

amazement or anything else of that matter, but a snarl. He looked at me, and for the first

time I during my friendship with this person, I saw in his blank eyes pure fury. A fire

welled up within his soul.

“What’re you doing here?” Apollo snarled angrily.

“I’m here to help. God told me to arrange all of the Olympians’ armor and

weapons and prepare for a great battle. So I did so. I’ve been waiting only for about an

hour. In that time I talked to some of the Pergotorians. They’re some pretty interesting

characters.”

“Are you to fight? You know the rules about non-Angels fighting!” Apollo ripped

a snarl even louder than ever.

“Than why are you fighting Apollo? You’re not an Angel!” He was growl too,

ready to pounce on Apollo at any given moment.

“God forgave him and granted him to become one and not a demon.” I insisted.

“Angels only have wings, Gerard. And have you noticed Apollo doesn’t.” Fury lay

deep within the syllables of the sentences.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“He was forgiven. But, he was never exactly a demon though. Not in the idea of

under the servant of Satan. No, he never worked under the hand of the Evil One.”

“Is that the truth?” I asked, turning to Apollo.

He merely nodded.
“Were you even a demon?”

“I was in a way. Most consider what I am a monster. My race, I prefer my former

race - however God never changed anything about me but the curse I suffered. I no longer

have to endure what I was put through. I worked for Satan in the sense that I did evil

things. And I was considered so anciently old because I have lived since practically the

beginning of the world. I never lived in Hell. Never.”

“Then what are you?”

“Why, you’re friend is a vampire.” Jason interrupted.

“Is that true?”

Apollo merely nodded once again.

“Only I don’t drink blood. The only reason I don’t have wings, and God told me

this himself,” he said and turned to Jason. “is because vampires are unable to grow wings

because of their body structure. Only humans can grow wings after they are created, but I

am not human. Why do you think you can’t grow wings? Because you’re not human. And

as for the rules, those rules are exceptions to this Great Battle. You don’t understand!

THIS IS WHEN PARONES THE BLACK DRAGON WILL DIE!!!”

“How?!” Jason’s eyes were wide, he knew whom the beast was.

“Gerard will kill him with some magical power from God.”

“Oh.”

“Please! Can we go and get this over with sometime soon!” I begged. “Does the

matter of Lycans and Vampires really matter at all right now. NO!”

And that’s what we precisely did: we unlocked the Olympians and led them into

the streets of gold. We marched down these streets do another exit, Apollo leading the
way. Jason, still in wolf form, walked behind me. His wolf size was about five feet tall

when on all fours, he had thick gray fur, and sharp white teeth that could easily cut

through a car door.

“Here we are.” There was a tall black archway overhead, no door and no gates.

There was the blackness of space underneath the columns and the arch. Soldier by soldier

we led them through the newly made portal, falling through the same tube of broken time

in which I had arrived in. But, instead of the whitish blue tube, it was black with the faint

glow of stars around me. The trip took about only half the time.

We stood around the portal, speaking the Ancient language with our hands entwined.

This was causing the black hole to become the portal, a gateway into hell. And as we

spoke the odd words, I heard the cackles of laughter that the flames produced down in

Hell. It terrified me.

When we finished, I saw the staircases climb up from the hole. They were smooth,

tall, and wooden staircases. On the side were silver rails. They reached the tip of the hole.

The first stair completely flat enough for us to walk across and down. The staircase was

brown and old. But the wood it had been made out of was extremely sturdy and enough

for the giant size of our army to walk down. It spun in circles. This surprised me because

form all the way up here the staircase did not like a spiral one.

The staircase stopped rising and spiraling up from the void of nowhere. My blood

sped up, making me sweat. I realized that I was scared, something I had been accustomed

to by this time. I looked around and into the eyes of the people around.

John the Baptist smiled.


Apollo, still looking angry, clenched his jaw and sword.

the Reaper shook his head in order to make the hair move from his face. Then he

tightened his wings.

God stood there, arms crossed, with an expressionless face. Then, he turned to me.

“Have a good fight.”

“What, God, you’re not coming with us?” This made me even more scared. But,

my Father realized this and attempted to ease my soul.

“No. This is your fight, Gerard. You must fight this yourself. But, remember,” He

paused for a second and looked deeply into my eyes, everything around us seemed to

disappear and be forgotten in that single instance. Then he said: “your weapon shall be

me.”

“You and your riddles.” I rolled my eyes. Breathing out. His attempt at soothing

my soul had been successful and I now felt no fear. Well, a little bit was there. He smiled

and hugged me.

“I will come when you need me most. Gerard, if you believe in me and use your

strength purely off the power of the spirit, you will kill the foul beast and he will burn

forever. If you rely on the Truth, Lucifer’s power will be greatly weakened the Angelic

Revolution shall begin on Earth. We have no time to waste. Good luck men.”

He hugged all of the generals, and gave us his blessing. Then vanished into thin

air like he always does. We all nodded to each other again, then slowly descended the

stair case into Hell.

I set the first foot on the first step of the staircase and upon touching that single

stair, the smell of disgusting rotting flesh swarmed my smell. I heard the laughed of
demons and the laughter of gargoyles. The sound of gnashing teeth and the screaming of

non-believers made my spine shiver. I clenched my jaw and gathered all of the hope in

which I could obtain within me. I summoned the memories of happiness and joy into my

mind, the few that were there, and began walking down the wretched stair case step by

step by step. The stair did not creak and I heard no sound but those coming from below

me. I clenched my sword and closed my eyes, focusing on the Spirit’s words. I focused

not on death but on Life. I looked towards the light and not the darkness, ignoring all the

evil memories that flooding my closed eyesight as I walked into the depths of hell,

listening to the screams of Parones of in far distance. Then I thought of God’s words of

encouragement.

Upon that thought, a sudden wave of bravery rushed over my entire being and I

descended with staircase with more assurance and more security than before. My Army

followed behind me, entering into the horrors that are known as Hades or Hell. Where we

experience horrible nightmarish things and haunting voices and sounds. But, because we

had the words of the Lord Our Father with us, no fear trembled within out bones. Yet…
“YOU’RE WEAPON SHALL BE ME”

We walked down the dark steps slowly. We curled our wings tightly, hoping none of the

evil creatures would attack us. I wanted to save my energy for the fight. As we reached

the steps further down, heat started coming up from below us. Faintly, I could hear the

breathing of each dragon and of each demon. Fear trembled within me, and I clutched

tightly onto my sword. It was glowing with courage. Again, I had that powerful feeling

that nothing in the entire world could cut my hopes down; nothing in all of existence

could scare me. Well, at least that’s I thought until I looked over the staircase's rails.

The snakes were crawling in giant heaps. There were millions and millions of

these slimy reptiles. From what it looked like, the pit at the bottom at the end of the

staircase held every snake that had ever existed. Next to the snakes were thousands of

bloodthirsty gargoyles that longed and desired for their most precious beverage: angel

blood. Their teeth was razor-sharp and their nostrils cringed when they smelled the stench

of our blood. One of the angels slipped and fell off the railing and into the pit of snakes

and gargoyles. Immediately, the gargoyles rushed to the poor victim and ripped all of its

limbs off. The blood of our friend scattered amongst these creatures' teeth. They devoured

every ounce of the poor Angel’s flesh. The manner these creatures ate in was by far the

most disgusting thing anyone had ever seen in their entire lives. I turned to Apollo; he had

a smile on his face. He turned to me and said:


“These are the creatures I originally created the Arrows out of. Of course, the

original gargoyles were a lot more civilized and could speak about fifteen semi-intelligent

words. Now, as you can see, their just plain idiots. I trained these creatures to become

incredible soldiers though. Surprisingly, their work ethic is superb.”

Apollo then did an odd high-pitched whistle and snapped his fingers loudly,

obviously something he learned during his life as a demon. The gargoyles scattered away

in fear. Their screams were more like a laugh. Apollo smirked slightly then continued

down the steps. He half amazed me in the most incredible way when he walked with

pride. He was truly living up to being the legend that the Greeks had made him into.

From behind us, a walking corpse ran toward us. We realized that this was yet

another Angel. We did not notice what the thing was at first because its entire body was

in flames. Before we could put our friend out, it tripped on the stairs and went tumbling

toward its unfortunate fate. The gargoyles quickly rushed back to the falling corpse, and

once again they devoured the entire body within a matter of minutes. Again, we had to

undergo the torture of witnessing of our friend’s blood smearing and hearing its flesh

being ripped apart by hungry beasts. These creatures had devoured more meat and drank

more blood within a matter of twelve minutes than they had eaten or drank in seven

hundred years. I had seen more blood and guts than I had ever seen in my entire lifetime,

not even Apollo had ever seen the incredible about of gor in which was occuring

Hold on, Apollo said. We stood there silently, waiting to hear what he was

pointing out. A rush of growls and snarls and screeches came from all sides around us.

These growls and snarls and screeches sounded like the creatures giving them off held

knives in their jaws. My blood ran cold. Then the creatures came into side. They were
large dogs that looked approximately one-hundred and fifty pounds each and their fur was

faded and old, making their appearance look like they were hundreds and hundreds of

years old. Their eyes were blacker than that of a shark's; blacker than a dark night in the

South. Darker and almost more intimidating than the black, silent void that was

surrounding us. These dogs leaped onto Angels and ripped their chests open, their hearts

bleeding all over the stair cases. Our blades, belonging to the stronger Angels that had

seen things much worse than these creatures, easily cut their throats and smashed in the

skulls of these Hellhounds. I took my swords and pushed them together, forming the El

Dorado. The darkness surrounding our army suddenly lit up and the hellhound’s

whimpered away in fear. I slashed their bellies and cut their throats. Once again, the

extremely common smell of blood and sweat filled the atmosphere surrounding our

bodies. The fumes of blood and guts drifted to my lungs and made my stomach queasy. I

gripped the handle to my sword tighter and swung my way clearly through the demons

that blockaded my way. I kicked them aside, letting their ribs break, and pushed them off

the railing of the stairwell, leaving them howling for mercy from the gargoyles that

continued to feast upon them or any form of meat and/or blood. I could hear their teeth

gnash and chew like that of young children. In their behavior, they were infants. The only

difference between the gargoyles and human infants was how ugly and horrifying their

grotesque anatomy was designed. In a nut shell, the gargoyles were pure savages. But,

when one is a citizen of Hell, the possessed instincts and morals are forced to de-evolve

back to that of the early homosapian’s manner: survival of the fittest. If you’re left

behind, then you’re eaten alive.

When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I heard the trumpets sound. But, these
were not the trumpets of the foretold, the trumpets of the Saints. This was the sound of

the trumpets of relief, that great big sound where all hearts lighten and a light breeze is

suddenly felt. From down the stairs slowly emerged the the Reaper and a white figure.

The figure made my heart pound; it was none other than Wilhelm Hollywood, the

Juggernaut.

They smiled brightly, and I smiled back in the same fashion. All demons were gone and it

was just our three shining souls in the dark emptiness of infinity. Wilhelm’s face was

glowing with beauty and happiness. Now that he was deceased, he finally had the chance

to experience the full effects of Heaven. And I was jealous in a Holy way. the Reaper

looked the same, for they were both still alive and breathing in a metaphysical way. They

wore the same armor as me: the white and super light breast plate with the velvet

underlining, the identically designed leg and arm pieces, no helmet. But, they lacked the

El Dorado. Jesus came and spoke in a language I didn’t under stand. But, I saw the

symbols of the secret words fall out of his mouth. He turned to the Reaper, shook his

hand, turned to Juggernaut, and shook his hand. Then, he slowly turned in my direction,

smiled, than before he shook my hand, he breathed three stars that symbolized hope and

reassurance. Their light made the darkness of infinity light up and for the first time I saw

eternity. It was an endless hallway; at one end was a chair that was impossible to reach.

Sitting in the chair was God. At the other side, technically it was not an end, sat the

beautiful version of Satan. Both of the people, or beings, sitting inside of the chair

motioned me to come in their directions. It was as if the fate of the entire universe lay

within those hundred steps I would take. I looked right, then left. I didn’t know who was

who. But, I followed my natural instinct and went east. The belt of seven stars wrapped
around my waist, and held my insecurity secure. It was the belt that gave my courage, and

the shoes that gave me peace. The entire set of that Biblical Armor lied within those

seven stars that melted into my skin. I reached the man towards the right end of the

hallway, and he smiled and gave off a cheerful, wise laugh. I knew it was God, for I

realized that Satan’s laugh could not have made that jolly sound. For some reason, this

man I stood in front of reminded me of non other than Santa. Santa was and is God. God

spoke to me in a loud and jeering voice. My heart exploded and my breathe halted, for in

eternity there are no such things. He said to me:

"See now that I myself am He! There is no god besides me. I put to death and I

bring to life. I have wounded and I will

heal, and no one can deliver out of my hand. I lift my hand to heaven and declare: as

surely as I live forever, when I sharpen my flashing sword and my hand grasps it in

judgment I will take vengeance on my adversaries and repay those who hate me. I will

make my arrows drunk with blood, while my sword devours flesh, the blood of the slain

and the captives, the heads of the enemy leaders."

Rejoice, O nations, with his people, for he will avenge the blood of his servants;

he will take vengeance on his enemies and take atonement for his land and people.

Jesus came up to me.

“I am you. We are one. I will become your soul to help you fight these demons.

And we shall pray together to defeat them.” Jesus’ body disappeared and I felt his soul

sink into my heart. I felt the Holy Spirit dwell deep within me. And a loud voice came

into my ears, as if it was a megaphone, it was Jesus’ voice.

Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, so that


your Son may glorify you. For you granted him authority over all people that he might

give eternal life to all those you have given him. Now this is eternal life: that they may

know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you sent. I have given you glory

on earth by completing the work you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me in

your presence with the Glory I had with you before the world began.

My body felt so complete and at home. I felt all powerful; I was no longer the

Vision. The the Reaper did not exist. The Juggernaut was gone. In that long hallway

existed only the Priest. The legends and prophecies were wrong. The Priest didn’t come

to life when Juggernaut and the Reaper both died, he came when Jesus became the soul of

a man, and God gave that man His blessing. And Jesus and I prayed for our fate, for we

had no idea how to defeat this monster. I didn't.

We descended secret staircases, the back way, to Hell. But, this was not hell. It

was a burial ground of past demons and dragons and monsters. There lied the three

recorded demons that Jesus had exorcised during his lifetime on earth. And the ground

shook, and the sky turned dark. Screeches came into my hearing. But, they were screeches

of the gargoyles Below, or screeches of infamous dragons. They were screeches of my

friends. They were the cries coming from cemeteries and graves all across eternity. I saw

their faces and I saw their deaths. And with three words, Rise oh Dead, all of these

corpses crawled from the grave. They descended the separate staircase and fought with

Michael. My gut tightened as I realized where I was. It was Akeldma; it was the Field of

Blood. Where my ancestors were slaughtered by the millions spiritually, I smelled my

friends’ blood on my hands. But my hands were clean.

He came on horseback, the Devil. His horse was black and covered in silver
armor. But, our words could cut through his armor because the Priest can cut through

souls, and walls of broken hearts with the simplest sentence. I saw his trembling hand as

he realized my back up, as he realized that I was really standing there with a firm and

proud stance. My armor solid, and my sword tightened, I felt God's seven stars sink into

my heart

The voices of hope and the voices of Angels filled my brain. Jesus tightened onto me; I

was undefeatable. In Lucifer’s eyes and I saw that fear and trembling. He couldn’t stand

to be in our presence.

Instead of running, I slowly walked towards the horse and its rider. I walked west

slowly. The flames burst out from the empty holes in the black grass. It was black from

the scorching flames of dragons, and crusted with the blood of innocent victims and

guilty murderers. I felt like this was history, the ground I stood on should’ve been the

only information in any textbook ever written. But, this would make the text books only

one-hundred pages long but still a hundred dollars. He kept his hood up, for he was too

scared to show us the rest of the fear in his face. I could sense his entire body shaking and

I could hear the sound of trumpets carrying all of my fear away.

And heat breathed down our necks from behind us as wind rushed over our

bodies. A black silhouette stuck to the sky and never came down. It was no silhouette, but

a dragon; a pitch black dragon. The only color on the entire body of this beast was the

whiteness surrounding its pupils and its pearly white teeth. Every inch of its anatomy was

creepily black. It didn’t make us worry because our trumpets sounded heavily. It deafened

the horse of the Fallen Man. No command could be given to its steed. I smiled in sweet

relief. Man, did those trumpets of relief sound more beautiful than anything else I had
ever heard.

Its wing sprawled out across the vast, wide range. Footsteps sounded, and so did

gun-shots. All of man was here to watch the battle. But, I saw no one in the sky. Maybe,

they were silhouettes glued to eternity. But, then I realized these were the footsteps of the

martyrs lying beneath my feet. The gunshots were not gunshots but the gnashing of teeth

stained with dirt and blood. Through the dirt I could see the poor skeletons. And I could

feel their pathetic bones. I wanted to free their souls and give them life. So I did. Their

bodies rose again out of the ground and sang songs of joy. They aligned in a row with

solemn, but yet joyful faces. They could not fight against Satan and his dragon, but they

gave us the mental support that we

needed in order to slaughter this Evil.

The dragon had no fear in its eyes, for an animal can not feel such emotions that

are so gigantic. Fear to this creature was fear to God. There was no weakness that was

visible to the human eye, or an Angel’s eye. But, with a smart logical brain and the Son of

God within my soul, it was somewhat simpler to find its weakness. That does not mean

that it was easy, just easier.

In the demons eyes were hatred, and my fate. And the trumpets rang on my side

again. The dead melted back into their morbid graves, and down from a separate staircase

came Apollo, Michael, and the rest of the Army of Above. I smiled. Jesus smiled. Our

morale just kept on being blessed more and more and more with friends and allies and

other advantages. The people whom came down from the staircase were dressed in the

exact same clothes in which I had left them in. The only difference was that their cloaks

and shields and armor were covered in thick layers of the blood of the Demons and
gargoyles of Hell.

“We’re here to aid you to fight this thing. I know with what is inside of you, you

could defeat this monster. But, with us you would save a lot of strength for Satan himself,

and also it would take less time to recover from this battle with our aid. I know, we’re

breaking the prophecies and all of that rubbish, but prophecies are just fables that were

made up by loonies. It’s a fact. Moses will tell you, and God will tell you. It’s fate that is

real, and that we must not break. Anyways, it is impossible to disobey fate. And, Gerard,

this is fate.”

I turned to the crowd of Angels, and in that moment I felt the universal feeling.

You know, like everything is you, and you are everything. I was leading an entire army of

Angels into what could be their death, and I had started out as a simple human that taught

advanced literature at some Massachusetts public high school. This is when the truth hit

me. I was not Gerard Singular anymore. I had been transformed into something greater,

something even more magical. I went from being a beat down, no good mortal, to a

beautiful, strong, majestic archangel. I was the Priest, the key to salvation of the

Earth above. Without my sword, without my words the bridge that connects the spiritual

and the physical realms would collapse under the weight of sin. But, Jesus held my arm

up stronger than I could’ve ever imagined. I had become a mythical prophet, and I met

other mythical prophets that were never ever mentioned on Earth. I am a legend now.

That’s when it hit me: what will I become after this? A mere legend living in the heavenly

realms, or will I am sent back to Earth and resume life like it was. Would I be able to

remember my adventures. My world would never be the same after I would shed the

blood of Parones the Black Dragon.


“Tonight my friends, WE SLAUGHTER THE BLOOD OF THE GUILTY AND

AVENGE THE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT!!!! TONIGHT IS THE BATTLE OF

YOUR LIVES!!!!” I faced the crowd with an intense stare, and a tear dropped down. This

is fate. “Let’s pray for our souls:

“Dear God we come to you today to give us your blessing. Please give us courage

to fight these demons, please give us the strength to kill these demons, and please give us

the sanity to stay sane after we win this battle. Because you are with us, we have no doubt

that we will win. It’s just the fear in our hearts that will keep us back. Lord, our faith is

the size of a mustard seed, and we know we can move mountains at our wish. But, water

our faith so we may drown mountains, and kill the Black Dragon. Please, in the name of

you, the Great Counselor, let us win this battle of glory, this infamous story. Because,

after this the Earth will rest in peace, and all will be happy once again. And, that’s all an

Angel could wish for. In Jesus’ name we pray, and every body said:”

“Amen.” The entire crowd chanted at once. This is it, I thought. I’m important,

and that’s all I ever wanted.

This time a shell rang, not a trumpet. And the monsters of Purgotorious showed

up behind the Angels. They didn’t speak a word, for we already knew what they were

there for. They looked like demons, but their eyes glowed with a certain peacefulness that

told us they were either on our side, or were high as a kite. And fortunately, a spiritual

entity can not get high.

The next thing I knew, there was the smell of blood again, and the smell of

spilling guts again. My mind grew lightheaded as I ran through the crowd of bloodshed,

and slaughtered these demons. Hundreds of these things came from north, east, west, and
south. They came from above and below me. Escape was literally impossible. So I had to

resort to letting blood spill and delaying the time in which I could’ve finished the fight

earlier. I expected these things to put up a great fight, but the more I killed the more I

realized that the only reason people were scared to fight demons was because of their

terrifying appearance. They are really extremely weak and not powerful at all. They’re

pathetic in every possible way. If you honestly try to avoid the fear in your heart, and you

attack full on these things with a courageous mind and soul, like every single one of us

was doing, you will kill demons as easily as you would slice a piece of bread. Within a

matter of thirty minutes or so I reached the area of Parones.

This was the one demon I feared, the one demon in which it was reasonable to

fear. But, I had a courageous mind and soul. I charged at the black demon, and my sword

only scratched its scales, cause sparks to fly out. It lashed its giant claw at me in a sort of

playful manner, putting a large dent in my armor, but for some odd reason did not damage

it enough for me to be scared. It knew the creature would crush me within a matter of two

blows to the torso, so it took pity on me. It slapped me with a slimy long tale, and

scorched my boots with its fiery breathe. I was on the ground, gasping for breathe and

spitting out blood. I felt pathetic, and lost. My courageous mind and soul had completely

diminished, and again, escaping was impossible. But, I had always managed to escape.

This time, I honestly thought I was going to die.

Memories quickly came back to me. My mind joggled of different topics. Earthly

topics which I forgot: Emily, my parents, teaching, the students, and Leo Solfritz. But, the

life saving memory came back to me in the most convenient moment in time:

It was God and I, sitting in that white room with that overly large bookshelf
behind God that made him look like even more of a wise man and had that long white

table that we discussed the fate of the universe on. Everyone had left, and God and I sat

looking eye to eye. He took of his spectacles and smiled, then laid them onto the table.

“Gerard, there’s something you need to know. It’s not any information in which

should surprise you, but information that you should’ve heard thousands and thousand of

times in church, youth group, and other religious ceremonies. And it is this: scripture and

prayer are the most powerful of all weapons. That is it. You may go.” As quick as the

memory came, it had gone. I knew the way I could defeat Parones.

I got kicked in the mouth when I came out of the memory, and I felt my jaw pop.

Apollo ran out and threw his sword into the belly of the beast, but it bounced of. As he

ran towards the monster, he shot arrows into it’s mouth. The arrows only pierced the roof

of it’s mouth and caused blood to drip. But, there was no real severe damage done. After

all the arrows were fired, Apollo stood there worried, and scared. Within less than a

second, the demon came and bit Apollo in two pieces. His blood smeared across the floor,

and I could hear the last of his vocal chords screaming in the air: “I’M SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And like that, another great hero was lost.

The weapon I held in my hand weighed less than my armor. It was fifteen-hundred

pages of Holy words written by the greatest general of all time. And when I brought out

this weapon, I saw the look on Parones face finally to pure, one-hundred percent fear. I

looked over my shoulder and saw the rest of the demons on the ground bleeding, throats

cut and dead. Gabriel and Michael smiled brightly and nodded in the direction of my fate.

It was up to me. I looked over at Satan, scared on his black horse, shaking vigorously. His

hands and head and legs and torso were also vigorously shaking. And I felt the Son inside
of me smile. I spoke loud and clearly, to make sure that both of the people in front of me

understood their fate and understood they would no longer exist after these words were

spoken:

“Now, may the Lord’s strength be displayed, just as you have declared: the Lord is

slow to anger, abounding in slow and forgiving sin and rebellion. Yet he does not leave

the guilty unpunished.”

The demon couldn’t bear my Father’s words. So I spoke more of them:

“His heart is secure, he will not fear; in the end he look in triumph at his foes.”

And another verse came to mind, so I flipped to that:

“For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be

slaughtered.”

The demon started to screech under my words’ power. He couldn’t withstand my

sentences, and with every word I said the creature winced and whimpered. I saw tears of

pain slowly running down his face. And I laughed. Not a mean laugh, or a criticizing

laugh, but a surprised laugh. I laughed a simply ironic chuckle for I was surprised at how

powerful these words really were. I flipped a several hundred pages and read its fate:

“He seized the dragon, or the serpent, and bound him for a thousand years. He

threw him into the Abyss and locked and sealed it over him, to keep him from deceiving

the nations anymore until the thousand years ended. After that, he must be sent free for a

short time.”

The skies were ripped apart and down came a glowing light. It was God, what he

really looked like. My eyes had been covered by a veil so I wouldn’t be blinded by His

beauty and His perfection. Now, since Jesus dwelled within my spirit and I had faith the
size of a mustard seed, I could see his face and His true beauty without being blinded or

even dying. God grabbed the dragon by the throat and socked his enemy hard in the jaw.

Parones screamed and spat out blood, then made what sounded to be like a crying sound.

But the tears that fell were only tears of blood. God pinned the animal to the ground and

bound him up with the seven stars around my waist. Suddenly, a black pit slowly opened

up in the middle of the Field and Parones was thrown in it. I could hear its screams

clearly for what seemed like years. In fact, I still hear them from time to time to this day.

They were so haunting. God turned to Satan, who was trying to get away from us by

riding on horseback. Instinctively I took the El Dorado and launched it at him. The sword

pierced through his back clearly through, one blade in front of him and the other blade

behind him. Blood seeped out from his black cloak, and his screech was terrifyingly

haunting. God turned to me and did a gesture at what I felt to be a smile. We ran towards

the refugee, and cornered him easily. I pushed him onto the ground, then piercing the

sword through his heart. When God pulled down Lucifer's mask, I realized how easily

this man, or thing, could change so quickly. He had had a face of maggots and worms and

decaying flesh, but now it was soft, smooth skin. His face was handsome and flawless. I

knew he just wanted us to pity him and forgive him. But, not this time.

I turned to God and said:

“How the oppressor has come to an end! How his fury has ended!” Then I turned

to the world and shouted my joy “The Lord has broken the rod of the wicked, the scepter

of the rulers, which in anger struck down people with unceasing blows, and in fury

subdued nations with relentless aggression. All the lands are at rest and at peace; they

break into singing. Even the pine trees and the cedars of Lebanon exult over you and say,
‘now that you have been laid low, now woodsman comes to cut us down.’'

I turned to Satan and spoke his fate:

“The grave below is all astir, to meet you at your coming; it rouses all the spirits

of the departed to greet you-all those who were leaders in the world; it makes them rise

over their thrones-all those who were kings over the nations. They will respond to you,

they will say to you ‘You have also become weak, as we are; you have become like us.’

All your pomp has been brought down to the grave, along with the noise of your harps;

maggots are spread out beneath you and worms cover you. How you have fallen from

heaven, O morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who

once laid low the nations! You said in your heart, ‘I will ascend to heaven; I will raise my

throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the

utmost heights of the sacred mountain. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will

make myself like the Most High.’ But you are brought down to the grave, to the depths of

the pit.

“Those who see you stare at you, they ponder your fate: ‘Is this the man who

shook the earth and made kingdoms tremble, the man who made the world a desert, who

overthrew its cities and would not let his captives go home?' All the kings of the nations

lie in state, each in his own tomb. But you are cast out of your own tomb like a rejected

branch; you are covered with the slain, with those pierced by the sword, those who

descend to the stones of the pit. Like a corpse trampled underfoot, you will not join them

in burial for you have destroyed your land and killed you people.

“The offspring of the wicked will never be mentioned again. Prepare a place to

slaughter his sons for the sins of their forefathers; they are not to rise to inherit the land
and cover the earth with their cities.”

“I will rise up against them,” Declared the Lord almighty. “I will cut off from

Babylon her name and survivors, her offspring and descendants. I will turn her into a

place for owls and into swampland; I will sweep her with the broom of destruction.”

And Satan screeched like a banshee as I pulled the El Dorado out from his chest.

His body burst up into flames, but you could not smell his flesh burning into a crisp. It

was a silent burn, where you only heard the crackle of the flames after he stopped

screaming. God turned to me and congratulated me. For I had saved the world, and then

he departed to go cut off Babylon and turn it into a place for owls and a swampland. I

turned to Satan.

“How does it feel to be the one burning this time?”

And I felt at peace. Nothing could go wrong.

But then I wondered: “What happens now?”


EPILOGUE: THE ANGELIC ROMANCE

Our bones were aching from the fight, but we knew it was over. Well, we knew the

Revolution was over. For the first time in almost two thousand years Angels finally

played an extremely important role in the affects upon the universe. They, we were now

important for to the survival of man kind. They needed us. They couldn’t survive very

long on their own without us. If left to defend themselves, man kind would be gone. They

would tear themselves apart.

I did not expect for Heaven to be different than it had been before. But, it was. A

party was thrown for our success, not mine but ours. I wanted to speak with all of the

famous people who had lived in the past. But, I was too tired from my previously arduous

mission that was done with for now. My hands had imprints of that final weapon and my

mind kept twisting and turning through the thoughts of different days. I wondered if my

human life would ever be remembered in my head, and I was reassured by the feeling in

my gut that it would and could never be forgotten. Like a lot of gut feelings I had received

in the past what seem to be lifetime, this one came and went unexplained and

unexpectedly. I ignored the questions I still had.

Heaven was different now that my human life had gone and this was over.

Apparently, the full beauty of Heaven was never allow upon me while this all happened. I

was dead on Earth, but not all the way. I lay in some undetected coma, waiting for that
last tie between my soul and my body to be torn away from each other.

Many surprises were brought to me in Heaven. Mostly, it was the glory of God

and how purely Great it felt to my now infinitely at peace soul. I walked through the

streets of my new home. Completely astounded by how much I either didn’t notice or

how much I was deprived of. I now regretted the fact of existing on Earth now because

such atrocities and evils did not contaminate the realm I now lived in. Only love and

grace surrounded me. Pure goodness.

I was told my house number and where it was. And when I got to the house, the

greatest and biggest surprise of all was there, sitting at what was to be my dinner table. It

was someone I had never thought to see again. My heart literally stopped and my breath

literally held itself and dragged out of my body unconsciously. There she sat, staring at

me with that oh so perfect smile on her face.

“Hello, Gerard,” She said, her voice floating the air. It even had a special scent to

it. A special flowery scent that made my spine shiver with glee.

“He-hell-o Emily.” I stuttered difficultly through the two word sentence; I was too

astonished. “How? How are you here? Wilhelm said that you had given up on God and

had killed yourself?”

“I doubted God, yes. But, I did not give up on Him. I questioned His authority and

his loving nature, yes. But, never did I stop believing in the Great.”

“But -”

“You want to know what brought me back? What brought me to fully believe

once again? Right?” She interrupted me just in time to let me rearrange my thoughts.

“Yes.”
“Well, God showed me a dream.”

“He seems to show every those except for me and John. Lucky.” I muttered under

my breath in a sarcastic manner.

“In the dream I felt overwhelming peace. This dream was after I had tried to kill

myself. See, when I took the pills, I had messed up somehow with the amount of pills

taken or something. But, I took enough to kill me, still. All that happened, though, was

that my death was intended to be more agonizing and more painful. But, God sent over

me a wave of serenity and peace. I felt the greatest feeling ever. I was in a rainforest,

sitting with the lions and mermaids who were singing as it began to rain slowly,” I

listened to the familiar dream to me - hers being much better than mine since Cthulhu was

no where to be found - with a smiled on my face.

“And you died during the end of the dream?”

“Yes, and upon my last breath was the phrase ‘forgive me Father, for I know not I

have done. Into your hands I commit my soul’. The words of the Son himself.”

“So how long have you been up here?”

“Almost as long as you have. God told me to wait until after the Revolution was

over to come to you. He said ‘there are things about Gerard that have changed since you

saw him last on Earth. Nothing for the worst. But, he has a job to do. And he needs no

interruption.’”

“Word for word.” God said. He had suddenly appeared sitting on my bed with his

legs crossed, smiling. Again he startled me greatly. And I was starting to believe he

enjoyed scaring me. But, such theories, however true they might be, they are still

entertaining to think about. Maybe, one day I could get him back for all the times he had
startled me. We both smiled and glance at each other.

“Where?!” It seemed like he had come out of nowhere. Which he precisely did.

He had scared me though, and I had a right to be so startled. He smirked. He had heard

my thoughts again. “How do you do that?”

“Listen to your thoughts or out appear like that?” God spoke with a small chuckle.

“The latter.”

“It’s my house, can’t I do what I want.” He said with pleading look and voice.

Then he added: “Besides, a magician never reveals his tricks.”

“Very funny.”

“I try.”

Emily looked at us. From me to him, from him to me.

“That’s amazing.”

“What?” I looked at her questioningly.

“How you two just did that. It’s as if you two were best friends.”

“We are.” I smiled when I said this. I liked admitting the fact that I had become

best friends with the Creator of the Universe. It seemed like a pretty cool idea. “Everyone

is up here.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” God spoke softly for some reason.

“Oh. That’s so cool.”

“You’ve been up here a while and you’re just figuring that out?”

“I guess so.”

“Well, I just came here to make sure Emily actually came today,” God said with a
laugh hidden behind one of the words. “I need to make sure everyone else from the Army

is getting settled. Unfortunately, Wilhelm is still alone and I have some things with the

the Reaper to do about his past. But, I promised John I wouldn’t tell anyone about it so I

won’t. I’ll see you two later.”

“Okay. Love you, God.”

“Love you too Gerard.” There was a slight pause. “Love you too Emily. I heard

your thoughts, if your wondering why I said thought. And yes, it takes a long time to get

used to. Do you want to know a secret? You do? Okay then, Gerard can hear it too: you

have all of eternity to get used to this.” This act was amusing and amazing at the same

time because not one time did Emily utter a single word. He then went to another room,

but when we followed to that room, he was gone. I laughed.

“Pretty amazing guy, huh?” I said turning to Emily.

“The best. He’s a lot different than I had expected him to be. He’s very…”

“Funny?”

“Precisely.”

“Yea, he is. That’s why I love him so much.”

“What about me?”

“That’s a different kind of love, Emily.”

“Oh, really?” She smiled.

I stepped back about two meters and tried to get a good look at how she looked

now.

“What?” She had said when I beckoned her to stand back.

“I haven’t really looked at you since I you came here.”


“Oh.”

“Wow.” I was completely flabbergasted by her appearance. Her body structure

now resembled more of her personality than what she had looked like on Earth. She was

taller now, about 5’7, she had longer hair that flowed three or four inches past her

shoulders. Now there were freckles all over her face and they clustered on her perfect

nose. Her lips became full and perfect. ‘Eternally kissable’ as F. Scott Fitzgerald says in

This Side of Paradise. Her body seemed to have more of a curve, her hips were more

prominent and her legs were long and slender. Everything about her were perfect. But, the

thing that caught me most was her eyes. On Earth they had been both brown and green.

But, the green had barely been there. Now, the green was prominent. Actually, there was

nothing but those perfect emerald eyes that now left me so transfixed. I smiled widely,

amazed. She was wearing black tight jeans and a plain polo. But, somehow, it made her

look even more perfect. And in one instant, one amazing instant, our thoughts connected

someway somehow.

He never was that muscular. His jaw never curved so perfectly. His cheeks never

looked so smooth. His smile never looked so white and glowing. Ugh. Can’t. Need. To.

Breathe. Those. Wi-

She looked like she was about to pass out. But she didn’t. And for about three

minutes we stood there, letting the beauty of one another engulf our hearts. A rush of love

came into our souls. Never had such a feeling been felt in my little deprived heart. It was

not infatuation. It was not foolishness. It was the pure, never-before-seen emotion of love.

“Oh My,” She said, gasping loudly.

“What?”
“You’re eyes!”

“What about them?”

“They’re…they’re…bright gold!”

“Haven’t they always been?”

“No, they were almost black on Earth.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t even noticed that change in me.

“And your wings! They’re huge! The way the just float in the air like that is

amazing! You’re amazing!”

“Trust me, you’re beauty beats me.”

“Shut up!” She ran over and slapped my arm lightly and playfully. Once again, we

were back to our playful, entertaining ways. I smiled widely at her and grabbed her,

taking her up into my arms. “Hey!”

“Hey.” I said softly and lovingly.

“What are you doing?”

“I really don’t know.”

I leaned my head over her face and tilted her chin up towards me with my thumb

and forefinger. I lightly mumbled “I love you” to her and she lightly replied with an “I

love you”. Slowly and lightly I pressed my lips to her soft luscious lips. The memory I

formerly perceived of love had now disappeared into oblivion and was replaced by this

kiss we now shared. When our lips touched, it was as if life had never existed. The

imprint of her scent was left permanently in my mind. Forever would the thought of how

perfect she is be left drifting through the confines of my thoughts. Our perfect, romantic

kiss ended after about five minutes. Five absolutely perfect minutes that could never be
regained - but who would desire to replace such perfect time. Not once during this time

did either of us breathe. We did not hold our breath. It’s the fact that we couldn’t breathe.

Our lungs refused to move the slightest bit. And in the warmth of her arms, I promised

myself that she would forever be the joy of my life. Never would that joy slip away.

Never could that joy slip away because we were in Heaven and in Heaven such tragedies

do not exist.

Just as lightly and slowly as our kiss, my wings began to wrap around her body,

pulling her closely to me. The warm feeling of her body pressed up against mine made the

rest of time stop and stay in its tracks. Still our lungs had refused to move or function in

any way. And, that blissful moment came once again where I heard exactly what she was

thinking. I hoped she heard what I was thinking, because it was word for word the exact

same.

Just think, I get to spend eternity in these arms!

You might also like