- Starter Short -
~The Gathering~ The echo surrounding his each and every gentle step was spreading across the vast corridors of pure marble. Not that he was rushing to get to the palace, or that he was speeding. The soul helper had a task, and he was going to fulfill it. Truth be told, not only he had a task. A bunch of his brothers and sisters were given something to do in their eternal wake. And he, the caring guardian had more than enough carried his mission in protecting and showing the right path to his given mate. However, that was not that important now, for the Keeper had asked him and his brethren to join him in the castle in the sky and give them yet another quest in their resume of endless endeavors. He turned left as he saw the framed canvass. A slight upwards lip movement reversed the mouth form the angel bore. It was simply because of the fact, that the Keeper really liked art. Any kind, yet the one he cherished and liked to display the most was his own. The wise one would take a blank canvass and would simply touch it, as his thoughts poured into it, instead of paints. His mind was the paint, and the canvass was absorbing all those thoughts, and forming them into images. The angel stopped for a second to look at one of the newer ones. It was a picture of a gazebo, surrounded by flowers and little sparrows. All of his art was different from one another, but this one in particular the angel liked the most. -Brother Michael - whispered a voice he immediately recognized. Michael, one of the many guardian angels, swiftly turned around, making the tight white tunic around his body whisper almost as gently as the angel before him. -Sister Amalia! - He greeted and took her hand in a friendly manner. She smiled, with her pure blue hairs waving around as she did a slight reverence. Amalia looked him in his eyes. They were as grey as the last time she saw her friend. His fair however was longer, far longer. Maybe taking the images of others really changed their appearances. -Are you admiring the work of the wise one? - She said and placed her hands onto his forearm. Michael starting walking towards the throne room, where the others were expected to be. If it were not for the paintings, being the only distraction in this castle of marble, he would have visited the Keeper sooner. Yet, beautiful work has to be appreciated. -Yes, I was inspecting to see if our Keeper has managed to improve his mood. Last time he drew a rainstorm over a hill, and later a lightning bolt really did sever a chunk of a mountain, hopefully no one was injured - Michael looked at her, and saw only unrest. It was true that their leader was keen on being in a good mood, but that did not really occur most of the times. In fact, so much so did it trouble the outside realm, that if he did not keep his thoughts more secure, his creations could lead into something more catastrophic. -I am glad to see his disposition has finally eased up a bit. But I am sure we are to find out what he needs us to do - replied Amalia and observed for her brethren opened the large gate coming into the throne room. He only nodded in response and they entered. Three other angels were awaiting their arrival. They all customarily greeted them properly. Now that all of them were there, the Keeper stood up from the Throne of Threads and looked at all present. Michael observed the raven like strands reach his ankles as he carelessly walked. Only the eyes of the Keeper could match his, yet his face structure was that of...well almost marble. Created as of stone, as if he himself was work of art, never to be replicated. The wise one looked at each one of them and his deep blue eyes met those of Michaels. His pale lips formed a soft smile. -Thank you, brothers and sisters for joining me today. I am pleased to see that all of you have managed to bring me pleasure in aiding your given soulmate, but I fear there is something more to your work. I have sensed more than a few dozen lost souls roaming in the in between, awaiting judgment. However, my restraints cannot allow me go and intervene, which is why I have yet another task. Each and every single one of you, shall receive threads of life, that will aide them in their quest. With them, you shall go to those souls, and guide them as much as you can. It is a sad thing to do...but it falls upon your shoulders to carry out their limited time away - said the Keeper, and with a simple gesture of his hand, everyone received the threads needed to complete their work. The wise one sat back on his throne, and watched as all the angels quietly bowed and went their ways to start their new journey. It was not known how long the process or helping a soul last, which was why the angel was not moving. Amalia smiled and went her way, leaving Michael and the Keeper alone in the empty Throne room. -What troubles you, my brother? - asked the soul weaver, concerned and still as featured as always. Michael did not exactly have any troubles, more than so being worried about the wellbeing of his leader. As if he red his thoughts, the Keeper smiled, as genuinely as always. -You do not need to worry about me Michael. It is the byproduct of our work. If we cannot see the sadness of a soul extinguishing, then we are no more different than being cores tasked with carrying out their jobs - said the wise one and closed his eyes. Michael understood that it was time for him to go, but stood there just for a second, seeing the process of a soul being created. His eyes moved from one point to another in this room, where everything was sacred. He saw how a breath of air formed into a thin layer of blue waves that toured around and finally fused with the throne. That was the very creation of life. He wiped his eyes, and turned back. He had to be vessel that can not only help, but also guide. That was his duty. The duty of a guardian angel. ~Creating Angel~ With thoughts clouding his mind with questions, Michael continued walking through the sky castle and entered a room, place where he had entered so many different times before. It had nothing but clouds spreading across a canvas of eternal space. It was a sky within a sky? Hard to even describe, yet for the angel it was no big thing. The threads left from the wise one were going to guide him through the maze of vapor within the room. The magical threads were five total, so the guardian had five different souls to visit. Taking a breath, Michael touched one of the wool for souls and it started growing. Spreading like a vine of a beautiful flower, reaching for a base of some sorts. The longhaired protector observed with his grey cores as the thread was very much forming what looked like a door. It was shaping to be...an oak tree. However, not just any oak, a red one. The door formed small branches that spud leaves of the same color. Michael smiled. That was a good tree. Without delay, he pushed onto the surface of the door, and it opened. A light consumed the being, but only for a slight second before he emerged inside a room. It was colorful. He was inside a house, of a person who kept everything to a very good standard. Tidy and clean. No pans or plates hanging around in the sink, waiting to be washed. No glasses or mugs left unwashed. All the food cabinets were dust free, which made the angel warm and comfortable. He spun around in place, with his tunic gracefully touching the floor as if a broom, yet one, which did not have anything organic in it. His eyes saw a person sitting on a couch. The living room was even more vividly colorful than the kitchen, but it did not matter. He was there not for the interior of the house, but for the soul in it. Michael approached the person, and when she looked up, he could only see a smiling old woman. Her old and brittle hands were fiddling with wool, as she was knitting little gloves for someone. -Who is the lucky one? - asked Michael and smiled upon the cheerful gaze of the woman. Her eyes were bright green, or more like a mixture of colors. Smart eyes, loving. She looked as if she had seen a friend for the first time in a long while. She properly moved her glasses to her eyes and brushed away the silver hair in her way. -Ah, those would be for my grandchild! He is a few months old now, and I want to make him something! - She replied and continued knitting. The angel smiled, as he knew, that this woman was no longer alive. He was here, because she was lost. His job was to help her. Without rushing, his eyes saw her name, as if it was engraved in his brain. -Miss Muriel - he said and placed his hands upon hers, - may we have a word? - asked the angel. Muriel was confused at start, but nodded still smiling and told the being to sit on the tabouret beside her. Still holding her hands, Michael sat and gazed into her eyes before smiling softly. -You are no longer needed to knit Miss Muriel. You are now free of your coil. Free to roam, as you please. Do you understand? - He asked again, trying to see if the woman knew. Her smile tempered a bit, but she did not lose it. It was like a bittersweet moment. -Oh...yes, dear. For some time now, I have had my reasons to believe I was not here anymore. Nevertheless, I continued doing what I do best, and that's taking care of...everyone - she replied, with a note of sorrow in her tone. Michael nodded in return. The skin of the old woman was baggy, as she had seen many a year in this world, yet her spirit was as young as a newborn. He placed a hand on her cheek, as Muriel looked sad. -How did it happen? - asked the angel. She entered a deep process of thinking, trying to figure out what exactly had happened, but, as much as she forced her brain to formulate some sort of explanation, it was quite simple. -I had made myself a cup of tea, and was about to start knitting, when...i felt sleepy. I covered myself with my wool vest and, closed my eyes. When I woke up, everything was pretty much the same, so I continued with my task at hand! - She explained. Michael nodded once again. He felt for the woman. From all the ways for a human to pass, that was perhaps the best way to happen. In your sleep. She was clearly a loving woman. Every single picture frame hanging around her proved so. All her children, grandchildren and friends, forever captured on those pictures. It was not for debate. -Would you like to come with me? So that you can rest? - asked the angel and extended his hand. Muriel looked at it, so pale and otherworldly and smiled. -Yes. I would like that. I wish to see my husband! - She said and took his hand. Her entire body then started glowing, and evaporating into a long line of thread. Michel spun the wool into his finger and it transformed into a ring. As he did so...the room lost its color, and it now looked quite empty. He took a sigh, not of relief but of sadness over the fact that another good person was gone from the real life. Not wanting to waste time, he spun around and left the house from the door he came into it. ~Creating Demon~ As the surface of the clouds touched the base of his leathered covered feet, the angel felt no less sorrow than he had previously. Such a good soul had perished without any conflict or any harm doing. Leaving only good will and mourning people over her long-lost soul. "Pity" - thought Michael as he walked towards the next door in front of him. Having used the thread of the soul, he awaited as the door was constructing itself. It was made out of black walnut, yet the shape was so profoundly void of any life, it was almost frightening in terms of potential repair. Michael touched the surface of the door, and it was not long when it creaked open, revealing the absurd looking apartment of the next potential person to be saved...or purged. The angel took a step inside, feeling a sensation of rapid uneasiness. It was as if his whole body was being covered with an aura so heavy it made him heavy. The whole apartment was a complete mess, but the dumpster storm all around was coming from the bedroom of the owner. Michael finally saw the person laying on the bed. The whole room stank from a putrid aroma of vomit and feces. The person himself was completely naked, covered in his own scents. The angel almost did not want to look at him, the man lying there, almost lifeless. He was dead, but not completely. His job was to decide that. The eyes of the guardian saw the name Peter Casema as he gazed upon the white cores of the man. He was in pitiful state, yet the sins he bore were probably more profound than his whole existence. -I am sorry my child... - said Michael, startling the man. Only his head moved though, as his whole body was stuck in a frozen position, as if he was constantly falling from the bed. Peter moved his eyes just enough so he could meet those of Michael's. -What for? - He asked, voice lacking any life. The angel did not react, for he already knew this man was not like the old lady. He was not like the rest of the humans. The guardian almost sat on the bed but decided to remain still. He was sure that the bed was stained. -For the situation you are in at the moment, you are very much indisposed. - stated the angel. Pete this time moved his head slightly to the left. With that movement, his matted hair revealed a massive greasy stain on his pillow. Peter then smiled, widely, revealing an almost empty mouth. Those teeth that were still hanging were broken and dulled down by time. -You don't know shit! I am like this, because I want to! I ain't indisposed! - yelled the bedridden fellow. Michael nodded understandingly. It was clear from the start that this man was a junky, but now it was even more visible from the fact that this whole apartment was upside down. -Well then, would you mind telling me what happened to you? How did you pass away? - asked the angel, standing there as before. Peters smiled faded and he faced the ceiling again. It was as if he was mesmerized by it. He then twitched; his whole body did, as if a painful spasm had engulfed him. -I'll tell you how! Drugs! Copious amounts of drugs! Pills, powder, every single one you can think of I've done it! To my heart's content! - Viciously replied Peter, now facing him. -I see... -No, you don't! How could you see it? Huh? You're not a human, I don't even know what you are!? How could you begin to understand my situation?! Michael nodded again. He indeed suffered in understanding some human needs, but he was capable of understanding that this man was no regular druggie. He would go to extreme lengths. Dark things in order to get what he wants. -You are drugging your system in order to mask something you've done. - Calmly said the angel. Peter went quiet all of a sudden. His lips formed a frown...but then he looked at his arms. Red dots as if mosquito bites had covered most of his arms. The amounts of needles that went inside His skin and injected with the poison needed to make your head live in a different reality, or calm you down, was beginning to complete destroy the functioning "human" inside of him. -I've killed people! Just so, I can get a gram of coke! I've done horrible things, and I can't deny I don't feel bad about it, but...if it means I can be happy, cheerful and strong, I wouldn't hesitate to do it again! It's an addiction! Addiction I tell you! - said the man through a painful amount of strain in his voice. Michael's eyes then met his. He saw the hurt, but along with that, he saw the unwavering need to get what he wants. He saw...a hopeless demon. -I have no other option. I hope you manage to somehow find peace...yet I doubt it - said the guardian and waved the thread needed to open the door over the head of the man. Without delay...his whole body engulfed in flames. Peter did not scream, accepting his fate knowing it was just. The fire spreading throughout the body of the man was burning him, slowly, turning his soul...to ash. Michael watched until the very last ember of the body evaporated. No one was going to mourn this man, but that did not mean he did not deserve a moment in remembrance. When the last speck of dust vanished...so did Michael. ~Creating Loss~ When the angel entered the space where nothing but clouds reside, he took a big breath. The toll of being a soul retriever or guardian was big enough for the angel to acknowledge that the human life is much harder than the one he was living. If he could call his labor life. It was not as if he was complaining or anything, not at all. It was the mere fact of questioning said existence of humans that even brought that kind of questioning to his very head. Michael was a servant of the one who brings life, and trying to understand the ways of fate itself was silly, but…lingering in the back of his mind still resided that thought of asking and need to know…curiosity and plain…humanity. Regardless of what, why and when, Michael wanted to serve and help those who required him to help. He looked at the threads of life left in his hand and saw that only three more remained. Only three more souls left for him to visit and decide upon their fate. He took another breath, and summoned one of them. The thread quickly started growing as if a root of a plant, forming what seemed like a…very thin and almost dead plant. It then completely formed into a door, by materializing and growing. It was not representing a tree this time, which seemed odd at first, but Michael did not mind that. Pushing on the surface of the plant door, it swung open…revealing in front of him a sight he did not expect. Most times, or at least during this operation, he would visit the last place the soul resided. This time however, he was faced with the picture of a cemetery, filled with graves, tombstones and small crypts. His eyes fixated on one of the graves that almost seemed like it was done just because it needed to be done…without care, without any love left for the person being thrown in the eternal slumber bed. The guardian approached the location, and kneed, with his clothes touching the surface of the muddy soil. It seemed it had rained, yet the soil that had been unraveled told him most of the details he needed to know. There was no name on the grave, no stone, not even a crest to represent something…just a spot, unraveled and then filled again. -Poor soul… - whispered the angel and placed a hand on the still soft mud filling the seemingly shallow grave. He closed his eyes and tried to see beyond this life. Through the mist of the darkness behind his eyelids, he managed to see the shadow of a name…meaning it did not bare one. That revelation struck a chord within his heart, but that did not allow him to leave. He pushed forward and managed to see her. A woman, not even mature enough to be called that. She was in the operating table, having suffered a miscarriage. The small little thing covered in wet towels was supposed to be her baby, but now...it was an empty shell of a human to be. It was dead. He then saw the image of a man…maybe a brother, digging up the dirt in the pouring rain. The woman was standing beside him and was watching, eagerly awaiting the moment where she would place her unborn child in the three feet hole and return back to her normal day activities. The man was cursing at her…calling her vulgar slurs that Michael did not even understand, nor wanted. His mind was filtering all that and trying to understand. However, there was not much to know. It was clear but the guardian did not want to acknowledge it. The girl was nothing more than a harlot, selling her body, with the man…probably her procurer. The eyebrows of the angel were disgustedly furrowed, not wanting to continue in the explanation he was seeing. It was not worth knowing. The poor unborn was the most innocent one of them, but he was gone, gone before he even reached the bliss of having to live. -I am sorry… - he said and stood up, opening his eyes and seeing a small light standing beside where the head was supposed to be buried. It was so little, Michael almost did not understand it was a soul, but it was. A soul that had no life behind it. A spirit that had no place in heaven nor in hell. Yet, there was still one place, so limited and grim for beings of light that Michael almost did not want to do it. But it needed to be done, for it was a soul without a home…and he was going to give the little one a home. A place where all the miscarried children lived. A peaceful never-ending cycle of happiness and care. Dimension that was pure…probably the purest form of matter in existence. With tears having spread across his face, Michael touched the little light, and it quickly extinguished and disappeared from the muddy ground. -You are in good care now, little one… - he said and still teary eyed walked back from where he came from. ~Questions~ Floating in the sky the angel was trying to figure out why. Why did every soul had different realities where they die? Why was there no one that could help them survive? Why was there the need for them to suffer for so long? Why did he have to see a poor baby, unborn? Why was this the plan from the wise one? How could this possibly be the right direction for someone? Was there really an outcome so big and glorious for the lost ones? All these questions piling up one by one. All those people trying to figure out a right path. Only for their lives to come crushing them down. Only for Michael to push and try to fix this somehow. Creating Angel or Demon, or a Lost Soul for the other side. The guardian took a deep breath and looked around. It was gloomy and dark; in the park he had made a habit of visiting when he was feeling down. Michael saw the benches made a long time ago. The small crevasses in the wood, with the wrappers of snacks pushed inside them. With the street lamp and the soft yellow glow. Along with the moths desperately trying to enter the shining globe. Beside him were trees filled with fruit in the still autumn night. Feeling in the fresh air the angel sat on one of the benches and looked at his palm. Two more strings of thread remained of those given to him by the wise one. Only two more visits needed for him to complete his task. He leaned on the backrest and stood still for a while. It was helping him cope with the sight he had to live with from now. He caressed his head and closed his eyes for a bit. It was nice to feel like a normal being from time to time. Not thinking of anything but the place, he was choosing to be in. Plainly existing for the sake of existing. But that was nice, a little quiet never hurt. Michael only wanted peace of mind for the fates he helped spur. Though as Michael was thinking a creature came someone flying from the sky. It bore black wings and dark eyes and wanted just to say "hi". As it landed beside the edge of the backrest of the bench, the raven caw-ed and looked at the angel with interest. The mature looking beak and the very lively eyes, made the bird look almost sentient to a human, not just a guardian in disguise. -Hello. – Gently, whispered Michael and caressed the Raven's chin. It closed its eyes and felt the touch from the angels' skin. It then nodded obediently and flew away. Leaving the angel with his questions, with no answers left for him to put in play. It was not long until he decided he had to continue in his mission, his task, his quest. He had two more strings left for him to plant. Two more, left for him to direct. ~Another Angel~ It is not just about asking yourself questions that are not being answered on the whim. There is more to it. Michael knew that and was going to direct those questions to the one who pulled the strings on how things worked. He had to. But not now. Now he had to redirect his full attention towards what he had to establish and ultimately resolve. It was known to him that the detour in his mission, in that park no one else resided anymore was more or so fulfilling to the extent of his sanity. It helped him, or it helped his mind into managing to understand, or try to, from recent events from his mission. Now, as his feet levitated into the cloud floor, he looked at the next planting location. Michael once again used a thread, which then flew and combined into the cloudy ground. He awaited as a plant emerged from the steamy place and began to grow and grow. Once the surface of the door was finally constructed, Michael was ready to go through it and do what has to be done. This time, the wood of the door resembled a Sakura tree. It even had the topical pink color carefully engraved in the wood. The angel pushed the door and entered in. Once he followed inside, he expected to be in a room but as he marched through it, he found himself in something like a forest by a road. His swift tunic felt the aroma of fresh grass. His eyes however expanded in fear in the sight he was looking at. There was a car flipped around just a few meters beside the guardian. He immediately rushed over there, trying to see if there was anything left from the crash. It was a four-by-four jeep, yet it was totaled to the point of no recognition. "My lord!" - thought Michael as he circled around the broken vehicle and stumbled upon something that...surprised him. A little girl, not more than seven years old and a tiny husky puppy were tucked down by the trashed car. Both of them were covered in black ashes, seemingly from the car, which had previously been on fire. As the angel got closer, he noted that the girl had very blue eyes. They were beautiful. The pup was sleeping peacefully by her feet. When he was almost a feet away from her, she finally moved her little head, covered in seemingly brown hair, but thanks to the ashes, it was all dusty and colorless. -Are you here for us? - asked the girl in a soft and lonely tember. Michael nodded. -Yes, I am. I am here to see what occurred to you in this place. The girl continued looking directly at the man standing there. She was observing his long golden hair. He kneed to the ground and caressed the soft yet stained fur of the dog. -Can you tell me what happened? - asked the Angel looking at the seemingly frightened girl. -I can show you? - She asked, as if she did not know if it was possible. Michael nodded and touched her cheek as softly and gently as possible. His eyes immediately transferred to a distant time where all seemed normal. Michael was seeing from the perspective of the little girl. At first, they were sitting at the back passengers’ seats while her parents were in the frontal part of the car. They were arguing about something trivial. Something about who left the stove on last time, they went on a trip. They were yelling and the father was not exactly looking at where he was going. The girl tried saying something but her father looked at her and was about to say something, when the scream of his wife signaled that he was about to collide with something. The little girl then blinked, and the next thing she could see was the car upside down, all trashed and scattered, left for the world to see the catastrophe. Her puppy was dead on contact. Her parents were also dead-on impact, yet she could not see them. Her body was trapped by the car. The vision in her eyes made it clear that she was in tears, crying from the pain of being crushed by a big vehicle like that. "Someone help!" - She cried in vain. There was no one coming or passing by that particular road in this time of the day. To add to that, the car was beginning to engulf itself with fire. She was going to wait there; she was going to wait and wait until the flames swallowed her and her life. When she blinked again, Michael was looking at the little girl again. He saw the fate of the little child and her poor puppy. He looked at the car again and hoped that someone from his brethren had helped her parents, because she was just left alone here, with her pet as a friend. The angel looked at the girl once again, at her blue eyes and tried to imagine the immense fear and overall state of mind this poor child had gone through before the end. The sheer understanding of hopelessness inside that death trap. -What now? - She asked and stated at the guardian. He extended his hand and smiled. She hesitantly extended hers, and then looked down at the puppy. -Can he come be a star as well? Her question moved him. Moved the angel to the point of tears, but he only widened his smile. -Of course! She nodded slowly and touched his extended hand and agreed on it. Instantly, her body started shimmering and just as before, her and her dog completely vanished into thin air. Michael stood there for a while and looked at the crashed car. He was interpreting the situation as vividly as possible. How a simple mistake as that one, could take away such a little soul away. On the other hand. One more angel was going to live in the castle of sky from this day. However, Michael did not know if that was something to be happy about anymore. Sighing, he stood up and left the place. ~Another Devil~ One final thread. Yet again a visit to a soul left stranded in the vortex of the in between. The guardian was standing in the cloud room just as before. It felt rather strange to be so close to completing the mission. It was kind of like before, when he was dealing his personal assignee. It was different then, and it is quite different now as well, for he had to help others; people he did not know before. He had to judge their deeds and decide upon their fate. However, that judgment, the process of judging a soul for their doings is something Michael did not think he was going to do. Yet, he was, and to think this was the final person left to be trialed upon their merit, it was a bit ruffled with complexity. Not to mention, Michel was anxious. Even so, this was the mission and he was about to proceed. He used the final thread with fused with the cloud underneath and started growing as if a sprouting tree. It did not resemble any other tree that was then turned into a door. The surface of the wood had cracks in it, as if an axe had gone through it multiple other times. A bit hesitant, the angel pushed in and walked inside an asylum room. The floor was soft. It was like standing on cushions, which were there to prevent from any unneeded damage to the patient. The walls were covered with the same thing. With all those precautions though, the patient in there was still dead. Michael was looking at the lifeless body of a man. His whole body was stained with his own blood. The white clothes he was previously dressed with had nothing in common with the velvet-stained sheets he had on. It was clear he had done something to himself. Above his head, the angel saw the name, Oddy Hampson. The angel got closer to the man, who quickly opened his eyes. At first, they looked red thanks to the light, but as the light adjusted, they were regularly black. -Hello my child. - Softly spoke the angel. The man chuckled with his face not moving, nor his eyes moving away from him. -I ain't your child, ain't it clear from where we are? - returned the man, whose head was so cleanly shaven, it had a few cut marks. Michael nodded. It was a way of a saying, a greet for the people. -Sorry. It is a just an expression for you, I take it. Nevertheless, yes, I supposed assuming from the room we are currently in; this is not your permanent residence. - replied the guardian. Another chuckle came out of the unmoved patient. His lips formed a smile though, as he continued looking directly at the angel. -You guess right! This ain't my home...this is...was a prison disguised as a mental institute for the wickedly unstable creatures like myself! It is a vile place where they feed you with pills to calm you down, only for the voices in your head to once again start piling on your door and telling you what to do, and who to kill. This is not helping a person...this is just adjusting them to a place where they can be subjected...where they can embrace their darkness and fall dead to it! - said the man with a rage filling and filling his heart. The guardian was listening to this man speak and was unsure as to what he was saying. Yes, this place was very much not the ideal place to be for a mental patient, but surely, there had to be a reason from this person to be ostracized here to forever dwell on his actions. There had to be a reason. -Did you come here on your free will? - asked Michael as he continued standing where he stood. The man looked perplexed by that question. -Of course not! - I was sent here. Because of the crimes, I have committed! The angel raised a brow and crossed his hands. -Then what did you do? Oddy looked away and his mouth formed a grin. Just thinking of it made him smile, viciously. He looked back at the angel and just as it did, they linked up through their eyes and Michael saw it. Saw how one might he creeped up to a house, not known to him or anything. He wanted to go inside and practice with his skills. His murdering talents. He did enter, and havoc did he wreck. He first went to the bedroom of the kids, where without any hesitation or delay he murdered the children of the unknown family in cold blood. Stabbing them while they were asleep. Laughing quietly all the way, he left the knife and took the fathers axe, the very same one he used to take when he went to cut wood at the forest. Oddy then entered the parents’ bedroom and proceeded to chop them maliciously. He was now laughing, fully, like a maniac let loose to destroy and kill whatever and whomever he wanted. Which was just that. Michael broke the link and looked at Oddy, who locked his choppy lips and smiled grimly. -And I would do it all over again and again if I were presented with the chance! I love this shit! The sensation of taking a life nothing to do with you. To see their last breathe or hear their screams. That's the shit I live for! But those fucks captured me, made me take pills and locked me in this jacket where I can't move. I bit my own tongue and chocked to death...because fuck em! I do not repent, oh holy guardian! - said the man and started laughing. His mouth covered in blood started spraying the room with the red liquid. Michael cringed in disgust. He need not any further reasons not to judge him. Waving his hand, Oddy immediately found himself in flames. They quickly started eating the lost soul, left to die alone in this room for psychos. He still laughed. The historic laughter made Michael even more agitated but he remained call, as Oddy burned to ashes. Breathing heavily, the angel wanted to not waste another second in this chamber. He left and closed the door shut, turning his back on the soul, and facing forward for the future of the souls he saved. It was time for him to arrange things, and make it right. It was time to construct the garden for his God. ~Threads~ Michael closed his eyes, feeling a tad tired and a bit anxious about what had happened in the last couple of minutes. He was back in the castle of sky, but the memories remained. The highlights of the events that once came and went were still replaying like reels of long forgotten films. It was strange, having to bear all things to heart. It was not his job to take everything as close as he was practicing. Yet he was still doing so, and that somewhat bothered him. Maybe he was not truly partial and neutral to the deeds of the humans as he thought he was. Michael took a sip of air from the kingdom in the sky and entered the big halls. He had entered that place so many different times, on so many different occasions, that it was not possible for him to actually count them. Immediately he turned right instead of left. The marble resounded with his feet gently walking on it, heading towards a room he had not been in that much. It was a room filled with…threads. Different fates, traveling to different worlds upon different reasons. The angel walked through the vestibule and saw the being he was looking for. It was a…some sort of levitating piece of cloth, covering, something shapeless. That being was also known as the “Distributor”. His single purpose of existence was to point given souls to locations in which they will be distributed to. Their end point was judged upon by angels, just like Michael, who was eager to get this over with. He got closer to the cloth and tried not looking at the flow of threads, moving in a rhythmic motion around the being. It looked up, with yellow cores shining through the covering hood. -Greetings, brother. What bring you this day? – It spoke in an echoing voice, resembling that of…well as you could imagine…a being without a real body. -Greetings great Distributor. I bring you this ring…this sphere and two pouches of ashes for you to deliver. – replied the angel and handed him the items. Before the ring could land in the hand of the being though, it quickly liquefied and turned into thread. More and more thread. -This ring bears two souls…judged by you to become angels. – It said, as Michael nodded silently. The Distributor waved with his hand, and the threads fused with the motion of the rest, and swiftly moved away above him. Michael then handed him the small sphere. It was empty, and it did not contain anything, for it resembled the lost soul he judged to live in an entirely isolated and faraway place. The being took the sphere, and just as before, it levitated in his hands. It then brought his palms together, in order for the sphere to get in between them. The small ball started shining, and when the angelic one moved his hands away, there was nothing there. -That sphere contained nothing. For nothing resembles the lost soul within it – stated the Distributor. Finally, Michael handed the two pouches filled with ashes from the two demons he deemed worthy to reside in hell. The being did not even bring them closer to itself, and simply purged them by simply looking them with its eyes. The pouches disintegrated into thin air, as if there was nothing there. Not one speck of dust. -In those pouches…remained the evil within the souls of two men. Now they are where they need to be… - said he Distributor and looked down at the moving threads. That signaled that this exchange was over, and that Michael did not need to be there anymore. He bowed humbly and took his leave. It was a long mission, but he had gathered the needed items in order for him to truly complete it. He fused two souls into a ring. He took the ashes from the kiln of the souls that burned…and finally, created something for him to store what remained from that poor soul that no longer existed. He and he alone. The angel reached the big main hall again…and what was left for him to do, was report back to the wise one…and his task would be over. That brought him ease for now…but for him to know true peace…he wanted to know more. What better way for him to understand how the world created by force unbeknownst to him worked, than to ask the “Wise One”. Michael looked towards the left wing of the castle and took another breathe. It was time for him to find some peace of mind. ~Peace of Mind~ The hanged paintings on the sides of the walls on the corridor towards the room of the “Wise One”, were even more than last time. Michael stopped by the one he liked the last time, the one with the gazebo and the flowers. It was untouched, and the angel stood there mesmerized and admiring it. He kind of did not want to separate from it, but it was time for him to do so. As he moved away from the swift paint, he noticed something interesting a few steps away from it. It was probably a new one, since the guardian had not seen it before. It was depicting a dark sky, viciously painting the idea that the man imagined for the canvas, was falling from above. It was titled “Lost Grace”. It was an interesting painting nonetheless. Not thinking much about it, he continued pass the marble walls and entered the room of the person responsible for everyone and everything. As he entered the long-haired man looked up from his daydream and looked directly at Michael. -Greetings my son. I take it you have achieved your duty? – asked the wise one and stood up from the throne of threads. Michael kneed and answered. -Indeed, great father. I have come here to show you the outcome of my decisions – answered the angel and looked up. The raven-haired man placed his hands upon his shoulders and lifted him up. The father then moved one of his hands behind his back. It was with the intention to navigate him towards a blank canvass. They both silently walked there, with both men’s mantle’s softly caressing the marble underneath. When the wise one stopped Infront of the canvas, Michael was perplexed as to why was he showing him it. -I understand you managed to salvage two souls to come here, two to burn in the underworld and one to be in peace in the “In between”, correct? The Wise one looked at him with clear curiosity. Michael nodded. The wise one smiled softly and then waved at the canvas, closing his eyes briefly. Different colors immediately started spreading on the white board, creating something only his mind could create. Once he was done, the image resembled Michael, holding a ring, almost like the one he used to bring in the two souls in the kingdom in the sky. Looking at himself, from the eyes to the, the smallest detail in his expressions and his hair was almost frightening, but this was indeed the skill of the Father that almost every time amazed the angel. -This is an honor, good father! – quickly exclaimed the angel and grabbed his master’s hand. The raven haired remained smiling humbly and finally moved his hand from the shoulders of his guardian. The gratitude of Michael was almost enough to cloud his questions he needed to ask. The wise one was back on his throne by the time Michael finally managed to snap away from the mesmerizing depiction of himself. -Father…I have been meaning to ask you… - he said but stopped mid-sentence. The wise one did not turn his gaze away from the troubled angel and only motivated him to speak his mind. That was assuring, as little as it was. He did not want to anger his master. -What I wanted to ask you since I first started my work as a guardian, and protector in the realm was…Why do humans have to do such cruel things to one another? Why are some people’s fates far worse than others? Families having to suffer because they lost a loved one because of a disease? Or an unhinged man, doing unthinkable deeds just because his mind is twisted and cannot think. Is there nothing that can be done? – bombarded the guardian, making the wise one visually unsure. His demeanor changed…as if his thoughts were visible on his face, since it was saddened with the facts he probably already knew. The father looked at the angel with a face that was clouded with sorrow and sadness he could not explain, even he wanted to. -It is not as if I do not want to do anything, my child. It is more to the fact, that the souls roaming the world do not need me anymore. There are some that do, and I try my best to protect them, yet, there are some who no longer need my guidance in their lives, and no longer…wish for my blessings. People who take lives of others, or those are who confused in their minds. Those especially do not need me. Their fates are woven only to be lived out by them themselves. I have no work in that…because they live their lives not wanting me to. Michael was listening, and to an extent, his explanation made sense…but at the same time, it was…missing something. Surely not everyone had to worship him in order to be protected…surely not even an unborn child who is incapable of understanding life, let alone be able to pick a side in the life-long conflict between good and evil. That itself made him ask more. -What about the soul I had to send in the “In Between”, in a particular extended space of time, left only for those souls, who had no right to be a part of any sort of group you could judge? A baby not even born…why did it had to suffer such fate? – asked Michael, feeling as if this job they had, was not as easy as the humans thought it would be. The wise one’s forehead received yet another set of wrinkles. It was clear that not only Michael had to worry about those things. -That is the result of…the parents considering to kill it. Once again…an act of self-driven fate…something I had nothing to do with, yet I wished I could intervene with them and set things right. -Why can you not? I mean, why can we not store everyone here? Is it so impossible to think there could be a place where everything is peaceful? – further questioned Michael, with the idea of helping everyone, not only those who needed help. The all-father’s face remained stoic, yet still saddened. -It is not how our authority works, my son. I cannot meddle too much with their fates. Besides…they had this chance given to them, a long time ago…but they picked the options to drive their own fates, without my help or blessings, so they cannot come here…it is impossible… Michael did not want to believe that they only deserved one chance to change their trajectory in life. -That means they will have to suffer for all eternity? Even those who truly need help, and wish for your blessings? The Wise one did not say anything, but it was clear from that, that the angel was correct. The father looked away from him, eyes filled with tears. The guardian did not know what to do, rather than leave from the room. This ordeal was made so many ages ago, that meddling with this that he did not understand was pointless. And not because he did not understand…it was because he understood too much, that he wished to be alone with his thoughts. -It is their choice, Michael. Do not let that fact cloud your mind and direct your future path. I try my best to help people…but sometimes, people hurt people because their natures are built on desire and selfishness. For a person as selfless as you, you need to understand, that sometimes, as much as they need it, people do not want our help. While those who want it, suffer because of the actions of those who do not. It is a cycle, my son…a cycle I struggle to live with every day. Do not burden yourself with that – he said, and managed to smile. A bittersweet smile that bore no true joy in it. Michael nodded and left the room with no true peace of mind as he hoped he would. It was pointless to even begin to unbound what the man said…he just left that to the back of his mind…as much as he did not want to. The guardian headed towards the garden. He wanted to rest for a bit there, and see the fruit of his labor. Finale ~The Garden~ When Michael reached the room with the garden, he was left out of breath by the sheer beauty of it. Uncountable times had he visited this place, yet, this time It was rather different. There was a small gazebo in the middle of the ground, covered with colorful variety of flowers, carefully painting the structure as if taken from a painting. Matter of fact, it probably was. The very same one from the paintings of the “Wise One”. Did he somehow know Michael loved that painting, and maybe incorporated it into the real garden? The guardian stared for a bit, until he started noticing people dressed in white robes. They were gracefully talking to each other, or were admiring the small peaceful place they resided within. Not only did they sit and chat by the gazebo, but by the relatively moderate sized pond. In it swam different kind of birds and fishes, striding across the waves without a care in their minds. Michael was still not moving, when he saw the little girl and her small pup, running along the grass in the field, happily laughing and enjoying their time to the fullest. -Be free little ones! – he whispered, with a smile on his face. Such a fate their lives had to go through, and at such tender age not to mention. His previous thoughts were clouded, as he was experiencing what he helped build, yet the little voice in the back was reminding him of the reality. Tossing aside that, he looked around more and saw the white robed people there. Perhaps the other angels were the product of the other guardians who managed to help the Lost Souls in need. It was all coming together, just as the master of time planned. It was indeed a good plan, yet their conversation was not going to vanish from his mind soon after. Even so, his sight then brought him to the old woman, left without a care in the world. She was sitting by the gazebo on a rocking chair, almost like the one she used to have, and was carefully knitting yet another sweater. Feeling someone watching her, she brought her eyes to those of Michael, and her lively sparks smiled as the guardian did. Michael nodded, and she continued doing her work. Something in his heart was telling him that his full task was completed a long time ago. But then his eyes saw yet another angel, coming behind the old lady. He was covered in old white clothes, older than hers, and his smile was no less genuine than hers, when she saw her late husband. Michael watched them embrace and smiled yet again. It was a smile you don’t consciously do. The muscles in your face instantly move your lips to visually express the happiness your heart was overwhelmed with. -Be happy you two! – he whispered once again. For a woman to have to lived so long without her love, was a painful thing, even if she was still surrounded by her children. Not anymore though, she was now fully there, and was with her love. To that, Michael was glad, and it was showing with his aura all around. Yet he knew that worrying about the talk with his master was going to eventually get to him, he was about to move away from there and maybe go to his old park and try to reshape his thoughts. Just as he was about to do so, a hand grabbed his, and he instantly recognized he soft touch of Amalia. -Dear sister! – he exclaimed as he turned to embrace her. Her blue hair outshined everything naturally beautiful in this place, leaving her the only thing worth looking at. -How are you, my dear? – she asked and placed her other hand on his cheek. It was cold to the touch and she did not like that. Michael placed his free hand on hers and nodded reassuringly. -Everything is alright. Do not trouble yourself! – he answered, but she still did not believe all was good. -I heard you and the Master had a conversation in which you questioned the way the world operates…what has entered your mind? – she asked, still holding his face. Her eyes were shining looking at him, but it was all to no avail, as angels had not been allowed to love other since the beginning. Michael knew that, which was why he took her hands away from his face, yet still continued holding them. -It is alright Lia. I had a few questions for the “Wise One” regarding the state of the human’s land. It was brought by the viciousness and heartless behavior I saw while trying to complete my mission. Her expression changed a few times from affected, to curious and finally to confused. -What did you see? Michael did not answer. He was beyond that, and did not need to remind himself of the gruesome and dark memories left to scar him forever. -I rather not say, for it is still a sore wound in my heart, dear sister – he said as his eyes trembled in their sockets, trying to maintain their balance. Amalia saw that, and need not hear anything else, for it was clearly hurting her friend. She got closer to him, and as his eyes expanded, she kissed his cheek softly. -LIA! -he whispered…you know it is forbidden! – he said flustered and red around his face. -You are now warm though…and more so, if we cannot embrace out dear ones…then what is the point in all this? – she said and continued holding his hand. He continued looking at her eyes and the shape of her face. Her eyelashes and her tiny mouth. She was beautiful. The engraved laws in his head were telling him that whatever they were thinking, whatever they were doing to one another…it was forbidden. But in another place in his mind, a small voice was brewing in his soul. “What is the point, indeed?!” – It said and chuckled. Michael smiled himself, which brought one to Lia’s lips too. He continued holding her hand as they entered the garden together, in the hope of finding a free spot to gaze in the beauties of the freedom they were in. … Sometime Later. Jon was sitting on the table overlooking the large grass field and was observing his son play around with a football. While doing so, his left hand was holding a pen, which was effortlessly scribbling down the newest ideas for a story he had thought of. His right hand however, was laid upon the small feline next to him. Mars purred as his fur got caressed by Jon’s careful fingers. Some time had passed since they came by this park, but it was always nice to see his son smile while playing. It was something he himself missed in his life, but it was fine. -MEOW! – cried Mars, as he got closer to his owner of now almost ten years. -Oh, look at you craving for attention! – chuckled the writer and left his notepad and swiftly picked up the yellow furball. Mars meow-ed once again, as if saying “thank you”. Jon started running his fingers across the small cat’s body. He did not really respond to that though, as he was looking up, behind the shoulder of his owner. Jon followed the gaze and turned around. For a second, he thought he saw some sort of contortion between the sky and the wind behind him…but it was just an eye thing. He smiled though. -We are doing good, don’t worry! – he said and looked at his son, who managed to score a goal in the net. Little Micky waved and happily exclaimed. Mars finally looked away and meow-ed once again. -You are right buddy; he’s getting good at it! Keep it up son! – he shouted back and leaned fully on the bench. It was nice. Everything was. Michael thought so too.
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AuthorHello, this is Nedyalko Delchev, or Black Wing. I’m a writer and currently 25-years old. One of my dreams is to publish a book and impact the world! Until then, I will be posting all kind of contend on my Story Book! Archives |