Act One: Katabasis

Going to Hell is like falling. You descend from high above, passing through black clouds of smoke and ash. The sky is illuminated by red and purple lightning. Below you, you see an immense black mountain, a dormant volcano. And in the caldera, built on solidified magma, is a city. A city like no other.

At the center of the city, it's highest point, there is a temple of polished brass and marble. Golden light spills out from it's doors, and you catch the briefest glimpse of something so beautiful it makes you ache inside.

And then it's gone. You land at the edge of the city, outside it's gates. The lava is covered in a fine layer of soot, and it's warm to the touch. You can see wisps of black smoke rising from the ground. You feel pain, but you do not die. And even the pain seems hollow, somehow, like some distant memory.

You slowly rise to find that you're naked, a bare soul without a body. Some try to run, others just cover their eyes and sob. Humans react to being Damned in different ways.

As for myself, I just looked around and wondered what would happen next. I had a vague, yet intense feeling that I had something important to do, somewhere more important I had to be. But I was dead, so it's not as if I had much of a choice.

Soon, our jailors made an appearance. I'd describe them, but no two were alike. Some were tall, some were not. Some were hideous, others were beautiful. They did have one thing in common, however. They all had whips.

Actually, I'm told the proper term for their weapon is a scourge. It has barbs along it's length, and it's intensely painful.

I and the other Damned souls were quickly herded into a line and brought to the wall. The Wall. How can I explain it? Imagine a wall so high that you can barely see the top of it. Imagine it's made of volcanic rock, crumbling mortar, and living people, who writhe and try to escape. I remember when they placed me in the wall.

They cleared out a hollow niche, shoved me into it, and sealed me inside. Only part of my face and one arm extended beyond the mortar. I existed in a state of relentless anguish. For what felt like a hundred years...

I later found out that it was only about ten minutes.

-

They pulled me out and put a leather harness on me, which they attached chains to. I was helpless to fight them, all of my will had been sapped by the Wall. One of my jailors sounded a blast on a horn, and I was hurtled upwards at great speed.

I reached the top of the wall, and was suspended from a gallows, where I awaited judgement. Time is funny in Hell, so I can't really tell you how long it was. It felt like an eternity to me, of course. It was probably fifteen, twenty minutes, tops.

-

Finally, I was brought before Rhadamanthus, the Judge of the Dead. He was an immense figure, seated on an obsidian throne. Before him, on a great dais, rested a pair of ivory scales. I was unceremoniously dropped onto the scales.

All I could see of the Judge were burning eyes and a cloak of utter blackness. On a low table near him were several stone statues, one for each Sin of mankind.

Just as an aside, it turns out there are a lot more than seven Sins. His hand hovered over the statues for a moment. Then he paused.

WHO ART THOU WHO HATH NO SIN? I CANNOT JUDGE THEE. His cloak then unfurled, revealing great shadowy wings, not unlike the demon from Fantasia. SHINING ONE, I GIVE UNTO THEE THAT WHICH I CANNOT JUDGE.

He reached for me with one great hand, and then he took to the air, and delivered me to the Temple. I don't remember very much of this, my next coherent memory was of the Temple stairs, and the doors opening to reveal a great light.

And then...

I awoke. I was clothed in white robes, laying on soft pillows. I sat up slowly, and found myself facing a marble throne. Upon the the throne sat a tall, beautiful being that reminded me of a Botticelli angel. The throne lacked a back, as three pairs of wings sprouted from the figure's back.

Golden light shone from (His? Her?) skin, which was as flawless alabaster. Eyes the color of gold stared at me with passing interest. Finally, the being spoke, and it was like many voices speaking at once.

“You interest me, little soul. I am told you are without sin, and yet, you are here, in my realm, Damned by God.”

“I don't know why I am here.” My voice sounded strange to me, rusty perhaps from disuse.

“Neither do I, and that, is also, quite a rarity.” The figure stood, their form seeming to flow and shift, becoming smaller, the wings vanishing. I found myself looking at a beautiful young woman, a gown-like raiment hanging loosely on her form, leaving one shoulder bare. I felt desire course through my body.

She was beautiful. She walked to me, and offered me a hand, helping me to stand. She was shorter than I was, despite being a fully mature woman. She smelled like honey and incense.

“If I offered to let you stay here, with me, would you?” Her lips were full and red, and she looked downwards slightly her lashes hanging low over her eyes. I swallowed hard. This isn't what I expected, and I...I really wanted to stay. With her. But...

I shook my head. “I'm sorry, I can't.”

I saw a flash of irritation in her eyes, but then her lips twitched. “Interesting. And why not?”

I frowned. Why?

...the man raised his weapon, aiming it in our direction. I couldn't let the girls be harmed. “Get down!” I told them, even as I raised my arms out, hoping to shield them with my own body...

I heard myself gasp. “Elisa...Celene...”

“Ah, of course, it would be a girl. Or in this case, two girls. My, aren't you the playboy?” She placed her hand on my chin, examining my face. “Although you are somewhat...average. Still, perhaps you have other qualities.”

“They...they're my friends. I've known them for so long...they're like sisters to me. I just...I wanted to save them.”

“Mhm. And did you?”

I felt an icy hand grip my heart. “I...I don't know.”

“Well, that's too bad.”

“Huh?”

She smiled at me, without warmth. “Too bad that you're in Hell.”

“Please, you have to send me back!”

She literally laughed in my face. “Oh no, really now? I should send you back? Out of, oh I don't know, the goodness of my heart? Do you know who I am?”

I looked at her. “A beautiful woman?”

She laughed again, but this time, she sounded amused. “No, I am no child of Eve, or Adam either. I'm not even a daughter of Lilith. I was brought into existence on the Fifth Day of Creation, along with the heavens, and all the creatures of the air. I have many names, some earned justly, others less so. Some name me the Morning Star, the Light Bearer. I rule here, as this is the only place given to me.”

She paused, no doubt for dramatic effect. “I'm the God Damned Devil.”

-

I blinked. “But you're a girl!”

She sighed. “Didn't you see me before I changed? I'm a Seraph, the greatest of the Elohim, second only to YHVH? I'm neither male nor female, but a perfect being. I took this form for your benefit.”

“Oh. Sorry. I mean, thanks.”

She tilted her head to one side. “You're...welcome? I don't think I've ever been thanked by a human before.”

I shrugged. “Honestly, you're pretty nice for being...Lucifer?”

“No, what I am is bored.” She sighed. “Let's sit down.” She dropped onto a pillow in a way that reminded me of my friend Celene. I couldn't help but smile as I joined her.

“I thought everyone was tortured in Hell, you know, forever?”

She snickered. “Oh that. Well, technically, that's true. Everyone spends time in the Wall, then Rhadamanthus carts them to whatever place in Hell they feel they belong in.”

I frowned. “They feel?”

“I'm going to let you in on a big secret...what is your name anyways?”

“Uh...Anson.”

“Hm. Not bad. I still think human communication is crude, but I've heard worse. So, yes, the big secret of Hell. Nobody here really torments you. Not much point to it. You humans torment yourselves better than I ever could, and I've given some thought to the subject.”

“What if we don't want to be tormented?”

“Well...if you really don't feel immense guilt or anything, I suppose you'd be happy here. Mind you, very few humans allow themselves to ever feel guilt free. You're all guilty about something. Even you, you feel guilty for not protecting your friends.”

I thought about that and I had to agree. “They're important to me. And not just them, my whole class.”

“Mm. But you're not weighted down by the sin of your misdeeds. Plus, it's pretty obvious that you shouldn't be here in the first place. That doesn't happen very often.”

“Why am I here then?”

She shrugged. “Who knows? Clerical error, I suppose.”

“Clerical error?!”

“YHVH isn't anything like you'd expect. Supposedly we're created in the image of YHVH but...even to my kind...especially to my kind...well let's just say no one understands YHVH. The universe was created for reasons no one really understands.”

I held up a hand. “Just a second, YHVH?”

“One of God's many names. You're not very religious, are you?”

“Uh..no..is that a sin?” Maybe that's why I was here?

She laughed again, but this time it was different. Her voice sounded higher and clearer, younger. I got the impression she was very amused. “Oh...Anson...I haven't laughed so much...in a very long time. Dear boy, no one cares if you believe, least of all YHVH. The universe exists anyways.”

It occurred to me that a lot of people on Earth would be put out to know that. “I...see.”

“I can see you're not going to fall all over yourself at my...womanly assets. Perhaps you like your women cuter?” Years fell off her frame and her breasts shrank dramatically, until she was about my age. I won't lie; she was very cute. Extremely so.

“I...ah. Wait. Why do you want me to stay so badly? I can leave, can't I?”

She frowned. “You don't understand what it's like for me. I am, perhaps, the most intelligent creature in existence. I can do things, understand things that your mind would break trying to comprehend. And for all of that, I have no purpose. It's all one great big joke, and no one gets the punchline. You interest me, even if only for the moment. And I'm so terribly bored!”

And lonely, I realized. Though it would no doubt insult her greatly to suggest that fact. Perhaps she was the loneliest person of all. “Luci, I'm sorry. You seem like someone I would like to know better. And maybe you're right. Maybe I could be happy here. But I can't just let go.”

“Luci...huh.” There was something unreadable in her eyes. “Even to be happy?”

“I don't think I could be happy unless I knew the people I care about are safe. I'm sorry. I really am.”

She shook her head. “So you are being tormented by this place after all. And by me.”

“Luci? Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn't I be? I don't have feeble human emotions!”

I tried to think of the right words. They didn't come to me. “You know what, I don't care if I make you mad, I have to say it. You're lonely. I can feel the sadness in you. Maybe you don't have feeble human emotions. Fine, you have superior angelic emotions. And maybe I couldn't ever comprehend how you feel, or do anything to make you happy. But I wish I could!”

She looked at me with something that could have been awe. Or shock. “You...you really do. You...want me to be happy. You feel sorry...for me?”

“I do.”

She stood and resumed her true form. The Seraph towered over me in all of it's majesty. “DO YOU REALIZE WHAT I AM? WHO I AM? WHAT I HAVE DONE? I HATE YOUR KIND WITH A PASSION YOU COULD NEVER, EVER UNDERSTAND! IF I COULD WIPE THE VERY MEMORY OF YOUR KIND'S EXISTENCE FROM CREATION, I WOULD! HOW CAN YOU PITY ME? CARE ABOUT ME?!” His voice was as thunder, and it shook the very foundations of Hell.

But I wasn't afraid. I don't know why. “I guess I do, Luci.”

Lucifer Morningstar seemed to deflate, once again become that cute girl, and sat down heavily, again reminding me of my friend. She even made a little 'huff' noise, the same way Celene does when she's exasperated...usually with me! “I don't get it.”

“I can't explain it, it's just how I am. If it's any consolation, you're not the only friend I drive up the wall.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “I'm not your friend.”

“Well, until you do something terrible to me, I'm going to consider you my friend.”

“You truly are a stupid, stupid human.”

“So I've been told.”

And then she giggled. Imagine that, the Devil...giggling. It seemed to unnerve even her, as she clamped her hands over her mouth.

I laughed. “I think you overdid it trying to be cute.”

“So do I.” She sighed. “Yes, you can leave. You don't belong here, so I'll just see if I can't get someone to collect you and take you off to Heaven. Yay.”

I blinked. “Why would I want to go there?”

“Huh?”

“I don't have friends in Heaven. Well, maybe my real parents, but I don't even remember them. If I can't go back to Earth...then I guess I'd rather stay here.”

Could you imagine it? Could you conceive of it? The mind of an angel breaking? I couldn't, yet in that mind, I swear that's exactly what happened. Perhaps it's because their minds are in tune with the order of the universe. They think with such crisp logic that, to them, humans are completely insane. Maybe we are. There's a lot of evidence to support the idea, at least.

She stared at me for a long moment. And then, she cracked a smile, but it was very different than the smiles I'd seen before. There was something wild in that smile. Madness touched her eyes. But angels can't properly go insane. I think that's part of the problem. God's plan is beyond anyone's understanding. Maybe you have to be crazy to get it. To get the joke.

It only lasted for a minute, and rationality took over again. But for that brief instant, she'd touched upon a Truth. And done something that, before now, only a human had ever done. She'd thought outside of the box. And she had been enlightened.

“Humans.” She said. “I think I get humans now. You're the most unreasonable, completely mad, backwards, stupid, moronic, unrepentant, ungrateful, miserable wretches I have ever known. It would take eons for me to explain to you how pathetic your kind is. And yet, every so often, one of you does something that completely justifies your existence.”

She paused. “I wish I could cry. All of this time, I have wanted but one thing. An answer. For my Creator to answer me. To tell me why. Why humans? Why not me? What did I do that was wrong? I would take any punishment, just to hear why. I was created, all of my kind were, to need the love of God. There are some of my kin, who do nothing but praise God...to worship and exult. Why?”

She began to shake and I did the only thing I could think to do, when faced by an upset girl...even though she wasn't really. I moved closer to her and put my arms around her. Despite herself, she curled into my embrace.

“And you, Anson. You are my answer. The only thing in all creation that ever reached out to me. That even tried to understand. I am truly broken now. How can I go on, how can I justify my hate?”

I placed my hand under her chin and raised her face, to look me in the eyes. “I don't know. But I've got you now, and I won't let go. Ever.”

“Cry for me, Anson.”

And I did. I let the tears fall, and she touched my face with her hands, feeling them. She was silent for a long time, and I held her.

-

Finally she spoke. “I can send you back.”

“What? You can? But...”

She put her fingertips on my lips. “Shut up, Anson. I know what you said, and I know you meant it. But eventually you would grow to hate me. I'm not capable of the kind of love you deserve. I'm just not. It's how I was made. And I know you'll never come here again. Even when you die. You just don't belong here.” She pushed my arms away with complete ease, as if my strength was that of an ant's to her own. Which was probably true.

She stood and sighed. “I was never punished. I can leave Hell whenever I want. I can go anywhere, right up to the gates of Heaven. But never home. I'm going to make you my agent, share with you a tiny, miniscule fraction of myself. And then, you will be able to return.”

I tried to say something, but she held up a hand. “No. Don't even try to thank me. Or to convince me not to. I couldn't bear to hear it. You may live to regret what I am about to do. You may curse my name until the End of Days. So why praise me now?”

She grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me up to her. Then she kissed me, and I felt something change within me. Like a key had been turned in a lock. I began to glow with light, and I felt my body rise, upwards and away from her.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. “I will come back for you! I will!”

-

I awoke. I was laying amidst the dead, in a deserted classroom. Teachers, students. People I knew. Seven had been killed. But not Elisa, not Celene. My clothing was bloodied, and I could see where the bullets had struck me. I probed the wounds, and to my horror, found they were still there!

And yet, I was no longer bleeding. My body felt cold to me. I was dead. And yet, alive, like some zombie or ghoul. I rose to my feet. It didn't matter if I was a monster. I had a chance to do what I needed to.

I glanced at the clock. I'd only been dead for an hour. A rage began to build inside of me. Anger that no human has ever felt. All of the rage and frustration of a Fallen Angel, burning in my breast. And now, it had a target...

Act Two: Avenger

I could see a guard had been posted outside. To guard the dead. I punched through the frosted glass of the door and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him towards me. With savage power, I broke his neck. He never had time to pull the trigger of his gun.

I took his weapon. I'd never used a gun before, but I knew enough to make sure the safety was off. Point and shoot. I felt a mad grin form on my face.

They were dressed in military fatigues, and well-armed. But they weren't Army, at least, not our Army. They'd quickly taken over the school with minimal casualties. We were to be their hostages. I guess they were some kind of terrorists, although they weren't Middle Eastern at all. I guess that's profiling, but you never expect the terrorists to be home grown.

Just ask Ted Kaczynski.

Miss Rachel told me to get the girls out, but they'd caught us. I tried to save them. I hoped that I had. And if not...

I would kill them. All of them.

I took off my shoes, I would need to be quiet for this. I crept down the hall, looking for my enemies. I heard footsteps. A sentry.

I ducked out of sight, hiding in an alcove next to the fire extinguisher. I pulled it off the wall. The instant the man came into sight, I hit him in the head with it. The fire extinguisher crumpled, and I heard a hiss as highly pressurized chemicals began to leak out of it. Pretty much the same thing had happened to the man.

I took his weapons and continued moving. They'd rounded up all the hostages in the gymnasium. There were only three entrances; the doors leading outside, the interior doors, and the door that opened up onto the stage.

Or so they thought. A tornado shelter had been built under the school; it was really a glorified crawlspace, with a 5' ceiling, but it ran under the school. One of the entrances was in the art room behind the stage.

Lucky that I was in art class during the last tornado drill, or I never would have known!

The lunch room was unguarded, although they had chained the doors leading outside, and piled up the tables to form a barricade. I opened the trapdoor in the kitchen and went down the short flight of steps, then made my way towards the art room.

-

I carefully opened the door and crawled up the steps that led up to the stage. Two guards on the stage, a guard up on the bleachers, and guards by each door. A tall woman, dressed the same as the others, was standing in the center of the gym, amidst the hostages. I guessed she was the leader.

And then I saw my friends. Celene had a crude bandage on her arm, and I saw blood. Both she and Elisa were being comforted by Miss Rachel, our homeroom teacher, who was sporting a black eye.

I was very angry. But if I made a mistake, innocent people would die. I looked around carefully. There, on the wall of the stage was a large electrical box. All the lights of the stage and the gymnasium were routed through it, I could see the emergency breaker switch.

The second man I had killed was carrying a grenade. I pulled the pin and threw it at the switch, ducking down. One of the guards yelled out in surprise. Then a loud explosion.

The lights went out, and I heard a lot of yelling.

To my amazement, I could still see perfectly fine. That mad smile came back, and I stood up. One of the guards was laying there, stunned. Concussion grenade, I suppose. I broke his neck. Some part of me regretted doing it, but at the moment, I was filled with righteous anger.

I jumped off the stage, and saw the other guard laying there. A savage kick to the head, and he went down.

“Whoever you are, I will kill these hostages if you do not stop at once!” The woman's voice.

I tried to make my voice low and dangerous. “And you die too. Walk away, and you'll live.”

I could see her face pale. She feared death. “I am not afraid to die for the cause!”

What would Batman do? Oh yeah. He'd laugh. So I did, and it sounded pretty damn good, actually!

She fired a shot in my direction. It actually hit me in the shoulder, but I wasn't even fazed by it. I rushed her, jumping over some guy in my PE class (Travis I think). My punch caught her in the midsection, and she doubled over in pain.

I put my gun to her head. “Tell them to stand down! Or I'll blow your brains out!”

She struggled, kicking and biting whatever she could. I felt no pain, and I was too strong for her. “They won't stop for me, you, or anyone!”

“Is that right? You don't care if I kill her?”

I heard a voice from the bleachers. “Marion! Don't shoot her!”

“Jacob, you idiot! I'm not important!” She screeched hysterically.

“You are to me. Alright, whoever you are. What do you want?”

I began walking towards the doors, manhandling 'Marion' the whole way. “Simple. You all leave, now, and never let me find you. Ever. Or I'll kill you all with my bare hands.”

Another voice. “Fuck this, he's not the cops!”

“No, I'm much worse. They have rules.”

Jacob spoke again. “Alright, we'll leave. Just let her go.”

I tossed her at the door, and she hit it hard, crumpling to the ground in a heap. She wasn't dead, but I'd heard something break. “Take her. And leave. Now!!!”

They left. I then strode towards the doors that led outside, and broke the chains. “I'm going to open this door. Everyone out, now!”

I kicked open the door, and moved to the side. I couldn't let anyone see me, not like this! I just hoped if there was a sniper outside, he wouldn't get trigger happy.

The afternoon sun dimly lit the room, and I heard the sounds of shoes squeaking on the gym floor as everyone started to run. I heard Miss Rachel's voice, asking for people to stay calm, but...lost cause.

Me? I slipped out a side door in the confusion, and headed for the woods that bordered the school grounds. I didn't stop until I reached the creek. I sat down heavily on a rock. What was I going to do now?

-

Night fell and I didn't have an answer. Would I just keel over dead eventually? My wounds didn't seem likely to heal. Maybe if I killed myself...no, I couldn't do that. I'd have to find a way to keep my friends safe. Somehow.

I couldn't go home, of course. My foster parents weren't bad people, and I wish I could tell them I wasn't dead. Except, well, I was. I was now truly alone. That's when I heard a twig snap behind me. I rose, turning.

Standing just a few yards away was Miss Rachel. She looked angry, something I'd never seen before. Also, she was carrying a sword. The blade gleamed in the moonlight, and the hilt and crossguard were plated in what reminded me of brass.

“I don't know who you are, but you picked the wrong body to take, Fallen.” She spat the words out.

“Wait, what? I don't...”

She didn't so much run towards me as she glided, and I barely escaped being cut in half by diving to one side. She was fast, and really good! What the hell was going on?

“Hey, hold on, I can explain!”

Her eyes narrowed and she said something in a language I almost, but didn't quite understand. The sword's blade burst into flames, and I knew I was well and truly boned. She charged me again, swinging the blade in a wide arc. I jumped back, but the very tip of the blade struck me, ripping open my shirt and searing a line into my chest.

“Arghh-” It hurt so badly. I was going to die, again. But if she was the enemy, then Celene...Elisa...

“It's time for you to go back to Hell!” She spun in a half-circle as she swung the blade.

The rage came back. My muscles seemed to burn with inner heat, and I caught the sword with my hands. It hurt like you wouldn't believe, but I no longer cared. “I'll kill you!”

She was surprised only for a moment, then she held out one hand, palm facing me, and spoke in that strange language. A bolt of flame shot out of her hand, and struck me in the chest. I looked down to see a smoking hole where my heart should be. I thrust aside her sword and punched her in the jaw, sending her flying backwards.

Like a cat, however, she landed on her feet in a crouch, and then sprang at me again. I tried to block her blade, but it cut through my forearm, nearly severing it. I fell to one knee, the anger faltering inside me. At least...I'd get to see Luci again...

She swung the blade like a scythe and it cut through my neck and everything...went...black...

Act Three: Revelations

I walked into class only to find Elisa already there. She made it a point to be on time for everything; you could set your watch by her. She smiled at me. “Good morning Anson!”

I yawned as I waved back. “It's morning.”

She giggled. We went through this routine every day it seemed like. Elisa really doesn't look like she belongs in a public school. She has long blonde hair done in an elaborate French braid, dark blue eyes, and fair skin with a flawless complexion. She was wearing a tunic-style dark blue dress and jeans today. I'd known her for years, but lately, I'd been noticing her appearance more and more.

I sat down quickly and tried not to think about how pretty she looked. I mean, we were good friends, and...I don't know. It just didn't feel right to me.

“Don't you like the dress?” She leaned close to me, and I noticed that she smelled really nice. Like lilacs. Oh man.

“Uh, yeah, it looks great on you.”

“And it was only 158 dollars at Nordstrom's!” She smiled. I balked at the idea of spending that kind of money on a dress, but no doubt, to her, that was a bargain. Elisa's parents were rich. I mean, really rich. Her Dad came from old money, and was a lawyer, while her Mom was a highly-paid financial consultant. But her Mother hadn't come from money, and they'd decided to try and give Elisa a relatively normal life.

House in the suburbs (forget that it was twice as big as my house and much nicer), public schooling instead of some private academy, and they did their best not to spoil her. I'm not sure how well they succeeded, but Elisa was nice to almost everybody. I'd only seen someone get on her bad side a few times, and trust me, that's not someplace I'd want to be. Ever.

The other students started filing in, and Celene trudged in last. Celene was like Elisa's total opposite. Where Elisa was only a couple inches shorter than my 5' 9”, Celene had always been small for her age. I wasn't sure exactly how tall she was; as usual, she wore these black boots with very thick soles.

Celene's skin had this olive complexion, and she kept her raven hair cut short, but with long bangs that always fell over her eyes. Today she'd dyed her bangs a dark red color. She was wearing a black tee-shirt that had a picture of Bela Lugosi as Dracula on it, and the phrase 'Real Vampires Don't Sparkle' on the back. Black skirt that was way too short for the school dress code over a black leotard.

She dropped into her seat with an audible 'huff', letting her backpack hit the floor. I swear, I don't know what all she has stuffed in there, but it's a lot. Given how tiny she is, it surprises me that she can even carry it at all, it has to weigh a ton. She looks in my direction, her expression unreadable as always.

“Hey.” Celene isn't much for greetings.

“Good morning, Celene.” Elisa beamed at her.

“whatever.”

I just waved, I knew better than to try and talk to Celene early in the morning. I think she almost smiled at me. But it could have been a trick of the light.

I looked up at the clock on the wall. Another person you could almost set your watch to was Miss Rachel, our homeroom teacher. As in, she was always running a minute late. Sure enough, she came in looking more than a little flustered. She moved to the desk and dropped her books and folders on it. “Ah, um, Good Morning Class!”

We all greeted her. I'll be honest, I found Miss Rachel (her first name is Karen) to be very attractive. She almost looked too young to be a teacher, as if she'd just graduated from High School herself. I knew, however, that she was actually 25. She was really tall, close to 6', with a slender, athletic build. Even though her skirt was an acceptable length, it never failed to show off her long legs, and even the baggiest clothing never seemed able to hide her figure. I swear, I thought she could have been a model. She had short, reddish-blonde hair, delicate features, and a healthy tan year-round.

As near as anyone could tell, she had no tan lines either, which fueled more than one adolescent fantasy, let me tell you. Rumor had it even some of the girls were attracted to her, which just made her seem even hotter. She looked my way and smiled. I can't quite describe her eye color. If you forced me to tell you what color her eyes were, the only thing I could come up with is 'pretty', which isn't a color at all. It's like they constantly shifted, so just when you thought you could guess at the hue, it changed. Plus she wore these cute little glasses that never quite managed to stay on right, they were always sliding down the bridge of her nose.

And if she got close to you...oh man. She smelled so nice, like, well, I don't know what. I guess you could say she smelled 'attractive'. Pheromones or something.

I got the strange feeling I was being glared at, but looking around, everyone was facing front. Weird.

I think that was the last happy memory I have before I died. Class had barely begun when the door was busted down, and a figure in fatigues with a TEC-9 shattered my happy school life.

Now I was dead again.

-

Except, for some reason, it was different this time. I awoke, if that's the right term, some time later. There was no sign of any remains, or of Miss Rachel. I still couldn't believe she had killed me! I'd never seen that kind of anger from her; even when the terrorists came to our school, she had shown nothing but concern for others.

So what had led her to me?

I couldn't see myself very well; it was as if I was made out of some kind of faint light. I could move, but nothing was solid to me. Why I didn't just fall through the ground, I couldn't tell you. I had no idea what to do; was I doomed to haunt the Earth forever?

Well, if I was a ghost now, I suppose I'd just have to haunt Miss Rachel. I found all I had to do was think about her, and I knew where to go. In fact, I didn't even need to travel across the distance, I simply thought about going there, and I was outside her house.

She lived in a small townhouse apartment; I'd never actually been here, but I recognized her pink Dodge Caliber anywhere. It's a sporty compact, with an engine that can produce 285 horsepower; I'd never ridden with her, but I knew she drove fast.

I sort of floated along, up her steps, but when I came into contact with the door, I was hurled backwards, with a great flash of light. I could see glowing symbols floating in the air in front of the door; they looked familiar, but I couldn't quite understand them.

My mind made a connection. This was the written form of the language Miss Rachel had spoken before! Don't ask me how I knew this, but it was definitely true. Not that it helped me in the slighest; how the heck was I going to get inside? As a ghost, I was a total failure.

Then again, if the door was solid to me, perhaps I could open it? I reached for the door knob. Argh! It hurt so bad! I took my hand off the knob as if it were red hot. In fact, I could see a wisp of smoke rising off my hand. And I'm a ghost!

No. I wasn't going to let a door beat me. I'd gone to Hell, I'd come back. I put my hand on the door again. The pain was relentless, but I forced myself to endure it. I was going to open this door! Open!

The handle turned and the pain was gone. What the heck had just happened? It was almost as if...I had willed the door to open! Well, that was a question for another time. I slipped into the apartment, quiet as, well, as a ghost. I heard noise, and I headed towards it. I could see a light under a door, and steam in the air.

She was in the shower! You have no idea how much I'd fantasized about seeing my teacher naked; now I finally could, and I was dead. I was starting to realize that life is full of these little ironies. Well, the hell with it, no reason not to peek now!

I moved through the door. Her shower had a frosted glass door, and I could see her nude form through it; by concentrating, even the distortion faded. Like Patrick Stewart, I could see everything. And it was good! Her skin was a smooth as a teenaged girl's, and her figure looked, I don't know, sculpted, like someone had gotten this ideal woman in their head and simply created her, fully grown.

Like the story about Athena being born from the mind of Zeus, I suppose. Every square inch of her body was tanned, as if that was somehow her natural skin tone. And, I noted with interest, her skin was smooth and hairless, even between her legs, as if she had never grown hair there at all.

Yes, she was still very hot, and if I'd been alive, I'd have been seriously hard at that moment. But being dead gave me a certain clarity, I suppose. This was no human woman. No woman gave birth to her, she was simply too perfect!

She was washing her hair, oblivious to my presence, and singing a bouncy J-pop tune. I only recognized it as such because I watch the occasional anime. I never would have taken Miss Rachel as an otaku!

She rinsed the soap out of her hair, and turned off the shower. Sliding the glass door open, she stepped out, and then looked right at me. Her eyes got big and wide, and she didn't even think to cover herself.

Then she quickly moved towards me and pulled me into a fierce hug. “Anson! It's you! I thought I'd lost you forever!”

Being pressed up against her nude, warm body...it's the kind of experience that you'd think would change your life. Actually though, it was kind of awkward, even with the excellent view of her perfect breasts. Of course, I was actually kind of stunned that I could feel her. What was going on?

“When I found that demon in your body, oh I thought the worse, but here you are!” She pushed me slightly apart from her, smiling at me with a look of...love. And not the lustful kind either. My Mom, well, my foster Mom, she occasionally looked at me the same way.

I stepped back, out of her grip. “What the hell are you talking about?! You killed me!”

She blinked at me. “Wh...what?”

“You know, with that flaming sword...how did you get it to do that anyways? And who the hell are you? You're not even human!”

She bit her lower lip. “Oh...no...you mean I....that wasn't a demon possessing your body? But...”

The look of pain in her eyes made me think of Lucifer. She slid to the floor, as if her legs could no longer support her weight. And she cried out in anguish. Again, in that language I didn't quite understand.

But I really didn't need to. It was the cry of a person who has just realized they'd hurt the person they cared about most in the world. I wanted to comfort her, but I had to know. “Just...just who am I to you?”

She looked up at me. “You...are my son.”

My world tilted sideways.

-

I was too shocked to react. Her...son? I put my hands over my eyes. “Put something on!”

She managed a tiny laugh. “Just a second ago you were enjoying the view.”

“A second ago I thought you were just my fine ass teacher! Now you say you're my mother?!”

“Oh...this is going to be a hard conversation. Um, could you move aside, then? I don't wear much in the house.”

“Argh?!” The mental vision I had of her walking around the house in the nude was very strong. And very unwanted. Don't ask why I accepted her story. I just...knew it was true.

She giggled. “You poor thing. Hold on then.” She spoke a Word. Yes, I capitalized it. Trust me, if you hear someone say a Word, you know it's a Word. “Ok, how about now?”

I opened my eyes to find that she was now wearing the kind of uniform you'd see a schoolgirl in an anime wear. She looked...”my eyes! My eyes!”

She laughed. “Anson, it's only a body, it's alright if you like what you see! It's only natural!”

“Natural?! Mom, nothing in my life is natural! Not anymore!”

“Ah...dear, I'm not your Mother.”

Ok, sexy schoolgirl or not...”What?! But you said I was your son?”

“Let's go into the living room, you may want to sit down for this.”

-

She sat me down on the couch. Now that I was taking a better look at her place, I could see that, while she wasn't a slob, Mom...or whoever she was, liked a little bit of clutter. There were clothes strewn about, a stack of various video games and DVD's on the floor, and her idea of interior decorating greatly resembled a teenaged boy's.

She had posters of movies and anime all over the place. I mean, what girl has a Boondock Saints poster? And the anime posters were all of girls, I noticed.

I wasn't sure why I was sitting, I mean, I was a ghost, for crying out loud!

“Anson, first of all, please forgive me for destroying your corporeal form. I...I would rather be unmade than to ever hurt you. It's just, when you came back..the girls said you'd been killed! And the things you did...”

“You saw me?!”

She nodded. “Of course. Nothing is ever dark to my kind. Anyways, I was certain some Fallen or demon had taken your body.”

“Uh, what's the difference? I thought all demons were fallen angels?”

She corrected me. “That's Fallen.” Oddly, there was a difference the way she said it. “And no, not quite. The Fallen were created directly by the will of YHVH. They were banished to Hell. Demons are, well, over time, Hell breaks down mortal souls, as the Damned suffer endlessly. Think of it like a stone being ground down. The little bits and pieces of the souls mix with the substance of Hell, and demons are the result. They remember little of their mortal lives, of course. The strongest of demons are either simply very old, or are born from what's left of the original soul, should it's torment end.”

“Huh. But that's up to them, I mean, sure the demons bully you around, but you're really torturing yourself.”

“How..how do you know that?”

“Because when they killed me, that's where I went.”

She looked at me, pain in her eyes. “Oh my Anson...my child...why? You're not evil!”

“Clerical error, I guess. Or maybe it's because I wanted to punish myself, for not saving Elisa and Celene...”

She snorted, despite herself. “Clerical error, now that I could believe. But no, I can see why. You can't go to Paradise, at least, not in the usual manner. Because you're not human. I was hoping, I mean, you were so normal, growing up.”

“So what am I?”

“You're a Nephilim. A creature that God never intended to exist. Half human, half Angel.”

“So wait, I can go to Hell, but not Heaven?”

She nodded. “Actually you probably shouldn't have gone to Hell either, but maybe it's because your powers had yet to awaken. See, you're not really dead, even now. It seems you've gotten more from me than I ever thought possible. The form you're in now, that's your true self. Like an angel, any body you have is simply a temporary affair. Normally we exist as light, pure energy. We transubstantiate our forms to create physical bodies.”

“So...that's why you look so perfect. You literally created that body from scratch.”

She nodded. “I based the appearance on your Mother, so I could remember her.”

Wait. What? “Huh?! My Mother?”

She looked at me sheepishly. “Technically, I'm your Father.”

-

If my world was sideways before, now it was upside down. “Father?!”

She spread her arms wide. “Angels don't really have a set gender...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know! Elohim, perfect being, neither male nor female, I've heard it before. But....Father?!”

Her eyes narrowed. “Where did you hear that, exactly?”

“Oh, from Lucifer.”

She sputtered. “You talked to Lucifer?!”

“Yeah, she was the one who sent me back.”

“But...why..I don't...wait. She?”

“Uh, yeah, she took on a female form.”

“Oh no, my son has been seduced by the Morning Star!” She wailed.

“It wasn't like that! I mean, yeah, she tried that at first, all sexy and mega-hot. But I dunno, it just didn't feel right. So then she turned into this really cute girl...”

She tilted her head at a funny angle, and looked at me. Really looked at me. “Ah! Why didn't I notice it before!? You have his mark! But...that's impossible. Lucifer hates humans, he would never...”

“It's a long story.”

“Then you better tell me everything, from the beginning.”

“Uh..sure, but um...two questions.”

She nodded. “Alright.”

“One, what do I call you?”

“Oh. I am Raziel, Seraph of Knowledge, Keeper of Secrets.”

I considered that. “I get it. Miss Rachel, Raziel...and Karen?”

“Karen was your Mother.” She looked away.

“Karen....I never knew her name.”

“I...I am sorry. I just...I was so mad with grief when she died. My kind was never intended to feel those emotions. By the time I came to my senses, you had been adopted, so I took to watching over you, from the shadows. I regret what I did, you needed a parent. I thought, maybe, I could start to make it up to you by becoming your teacher.”

I snorted. “Yeah right, instead I got a crush on you.”

“That was rather cute. I was trying to figure out whether or not I should encourage you.”

I sputtered. “No! Bad angel! Bad!”

She giggled again. “Sorry! I just...I don't have the weird hangups humans do.”

“Next question! Um, when can I stop being a ghost?”

-

“Oh, well yes, you'll just have to transubstantiate yourself. It's simple. Just concentrate, imagine you are made up of tiny particles of light. Now, will those particles to gather, forming a central mass. Becoming solid. Get the image of the form you wish to take, and it will happen!”

I tried this. I sort of intuitively understood what she was saying. Be solid. Be alive!

“Ah, no no no!”

I opened my eyes and discovered my body was made of fire, and I was burning through her couch. “Ahh!!!”

I don't know where she got the fire extinguisher, but she put me out, and I was a ghost..or whatever, again.

“Ok. Hm. I guess that's too complicated for you just yet. Alright, plan B.”

“What's Plan B?”

“Oh, Possession. It's easy and takes very little energy, provided you have a recently dead or soulless body to work with. Even demons can do it, so it should be no problem for you. Hm. Better not go with a dead body though, you always have to replace those eventually, and I don't want a rotting corpse in my house.”

“Well where the heck are we going to get a soulless body?”

She smiled. “I usually try coma patients. Human science can keep a body alive, but when the soul leaves, it's gone. Well unless you use Necromancy, but we're going to keep this simple. Just stay here, I'll go find a suitable body, and I'll call you.”

She turned into light and I heard the flutter of great wings, beating against the air. And she was gone.

-

I couldn't actually touch anything, of course. I wish I'd asked her to turn the TV on or something. I looked around the place. I soon discovered a few unsettling facts about my parent, like the fact that, even with a female body, she wore boxers, not panties.

I also found an entire room done up as a sort of shrine, with pictures of a pretty girl that had to be my Mom, plus pictures of me. Normally I'd find this creepy, but instead I was touched by Raziel's devotion. Her human form did kind of resemble Mom, but she had been human, with all the flaws humans have.

But that perfect form was how Raziel remembered her. He, she, whatever...Raziel had deeply loved Mom. I just wish I had known her. The revelation that my father was an angel didn't surprise me. I just wish he didn't seem so comfortable in that female body! It was going to be hard to get used to the fact my Dad was a girl, that's for sure.

“Ok, got it, come along now!” I heard Raziel's voice, and I felt pulled to her.

I was floating in the air in a hospital room. I could barely see the bed below me, but my attention was taken up by Raziel's true form. It still basically resembled her human form, but she was made of glowing light, with six great wings. I could see the resemblance to Lucifer, although Raziel was smaller, and somehow, less, than the Morning Star.

Lower in rank, but 'Seraph of Knowledge' sounds kind of important nonetheless. I guess Raziel was like, God's librarian or something. Except...why would God need a library?

“Ok, now, this is a lot easier. Just gather your particles into a solid mass, then slowly descend. You'll feel the void where the soul should be. Just let it draw you in, you should make the connection automatically.”

I did as she said, and yes, I did feel it. A vacuum where no vacuum should be. Human bodies are meant to die when the soul leaves, that's why your cells receive the command to die, because you no longer have any use for a living body. Trust humans to screw this up, keeping a body alive that no longer serves a purpose.

But, in this case, it was pretty useful. I opened my eyes and found that I was gasping for breath. I felt so weak! I couldn't breathe, couldn't talk, I just stared up at the ceiling, my borrowed body convulsing.

But then Raziel was there, and she held me. “Shh, little one. It's alright, my child.”

Warmth suffused my being, and I felt carried aloft, as Raziel flew us away from the hospital.

-

I awoke later, in a large, soft bed. I felt a lot better, although I was thirsty...and hungry. It took an effort to sit up; this body hadn't exercised in some time, so the muscles were weak.

“Easy, don't push yourself too hard, Anson.” Raziel offered me a glass of water, and I grasped it with my hands and drank slowly. “Being what you are, you grant your form great strength and resilience, but it's only mortal flesh, you can harm yourself without meaning to.”

I noticed something then. The glass seemed quite large. No, that wasn't it. My hands were tiny, and delicate, attached to frail-looking arms. I pushed aside the covers and looked at my body.

I didn't have the words. I simply looked at Raziel in shock.

“What, not to your liking? I thought a young body would be easier to nurse back to health.”

“Young?! I'm a little kid!” My voice was higher in pitch than I was expecting. Oh no. “And...and...I'm a girl?!”

“Not as young as you look, granted, the body is small for it's age, but a good diet will fix that...”

“GIRL! I'm a girl!”

“Oh. Well....yes. Is that a problem?”

I fell back onto the pillow, already feeling exhausted. “...but I'm a guy!”

“Ah...I'm sorry Anson. I didn't consider that at all. You must hate me.”

Aw man. Raziel looked absolutely pathetic. “I don't hate you. I don't think you're a very good parent, but...I guess that's not your fault.” I sighed. “Do you want a hug?”

She brightened and nodded, so I held out my arms. She pulled me into her embrace, and I have to admit, maybe it's because I was a girl at the moment, but I didn't feel as weirded out as I usually do when a girl hugs me. In her own warped way, Raziel loved me. And I found I could accept that.

“I'm sorry Anson. Should I get you a new one?”

I sighed. “No, it's fine. I mean, it's only temporary, right? You can teach me to trans...substant...”

“Transubstantiate. Oh yes. I can teach you so much, my Anson. So much. You have no idea how I've longed for this moment.”

In the back of my mind I suspected Raziel might have had an ulterior motive, or at least, a subconscious one, for selecting a young girl's body for me. But you know, it's fine for now. I had a family, a real one. And that made everything ok.

“Raziel...what about my foster folks...and my friends?”

“You mean the girls, of course. Yes, I doubt they'd want to go out with you like this.”

I laughed. My voice still sounded so weird to me. “Go out with me? Stop joking around, they're like my sisters!”

“Oh Anson, you're such an idiot at times, I don't know how you can be my son. They've loved you from the moment they met you. And you've been too blind to see it.”

Erk. Wait. Love? I considered that. It was like a lightbulb going on in my head. “Oh...shit.”

Raziel ruffled my hair gently. “Shh, it's ok. I've already turned my back on my Creator for you, I'll find a way to make everything better if I have to shake the foundations of Heaven. I promise.”

I got a sense then, of exactly how much I meant to Raziel. I simply hugged her, unable to put my feelings into words. I yawned then, my new body already worn out. She tucked me in, and she sang to me softly, stroking my hair gently. Had my real mother done just this, when I was a tiny baby?

I fell asleep almost instantly, and I've never felt so loved.

-

Lucifer sat on her throne. She looked positively ridiculous; the throne had been scaled for her true form, after all. But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to change back. Not since Anson...

She was even thinking about herself in feminine pronouns. This was undoubtedly a bad sign; that body had changed her somehow. She had been perfect before, the ideal being, greatest of her Creator's greatest creations. Or so she had always thought. That boy...had humbled her. She, the proudest thing in all Creation.

But just thinking about Anson, rather than fill her with wrath, made her feel...content. The dull ache that had filled her for so long, the void where her love for her Creator was meant to be...was gone. Which made absolutely no sense.

The other Fallen whispered amongst themselves. She was aware of it, that her leadership, which had endured for millenia, was being challenged more than ever before. Oh to be certain, those under her had always been ambitious, seeking to ascend to the throne of Hell. But rarely were they ever so blatant. Even the greater Demons and Devils were starting to consolidate their power!

But she didn't care. To be honest, they could have Hell. She'd much rather go to him. To Anson.

The intrusion was unheralded, and rather surprising. Even Heaven's envoys, when they came to Hell, were never so brazen as to simply appear in her temple! But there, before her, was Raziel, whom she hadn't seen in some time.

But something had changed about Raziel. Her true form had been corrupted somehow. It took a moment to realize what had changed; angels have no true gender. No matter what physical forms they choose, their true form always reflects this.

But Raziel's form was decidedly feminine.

“Raziel, what has happened to you?”

“Never mind that! How DARE you!” Raziel's eyes blazed with fury. “How dare you put your mark on that boy!”

Anson. It had to be. Oh sure, from time to time, Lucifer had infused various evil humans with her power, to further some plot or another. But Anson...had been special. Was special. But why was Raziel so angry? “What is the boy to you?”

“Argh! Take off that disguise, don't think that I'm going to be swayed by...by...cuteness!”

Lucifer frowned. She really ought to take her true form and smite Raziel into submission. Though a Seraph as well, Raziel was her lesser by far, and not much of a warrior. But then again, Raziel was the Seraph of Knowledge. In the past, she'd been loath to admit that Raziel could know anything she did not, after all, was she not perfect?

But it occurred to her that Raziel might have been created with a few secrets. It would be just like YHVH to do something like that. Still...

“No.”

“Eh?” Raziel blinked. A very human gesture.

“I don't want to.”

Raziel tilted her head at an odd angle. “Uh...Lucifer? Are you alright?”

The petite girl sighed. “No. I'm not alright. Maybe I've never been alright. Do you think it's possible that YHVH...made me wrong, somehow?”

Raziel just gaped at the First. “That's...now see here! In all the time I've known you, which is a very long time, no matter who you ask..I mean, even the Bible, as flawed as it is, says it's at least six thousand years...what in the Hell is wrong with you?”

Lucifer slid off her throne. “I don't know! Ever since that boy came here, I...I've changed!”

Raziel blinked. “Oh.”

“Oh?! What do you mean?”

“Uh...I don't want to make you angry...I mean, you've always had this temper...”

“RAZIEL!!!” It was really unsettling, to see all that frustration pouring out of a cute young teenager's form.

“Right, sorry. Um, well, you know, there is one thing that can change us. I mean, look at me, I'm sure you've noticed.”

“I have. But what caused it?”

Raziel sighed. “Love.”

Lucifer's right eye twitched dangerously. “Love?!”

Raziel just nodded. “I...I too have turned my back on Heaven.”

“You fell in love with...a human? That's disgusting!”

“You insult her again, and I don't care who you are or how powerful you are, I'll make you regret it.”

Lucifer paused. This wasn't the Raziel she'd known before. “Noted. So your love made you female? Wait...did you say 'her'?” Lucifer chuckled. “You sly old fox...”

“Oh shut up! Anyways, take your mark off of Anson.”

“...no.”

“Lucifer Morningstar, do not fuck with me. You have no claim to him.”

“I can't.”

“Eh?”
She glared up at Raziel (who was decidedly taller than her current form). “I said I can't! Even if I wanted to, I just...can't...” She trailed off.

Angels have no need for curses or swear words, so there really aren't many in Enochian, the language of the Elohim. However, in Hell, such things are more necessary, so demons have, over the ages, added quite a bit to their own dialect of Enochian.

Raziel began spouting Hellish profanities. She'd never really used such language before. For some reason, however, it wasn't incendiary enough. So she switched to Arabic. Normally, Arabic was a good language to curse in, but it wasn't doing the job either.

She tried a few different languages, before settling on Russian. Now there was a people that knew how to cuss someone out!

Lucifer simply weathered the storm. Part of her was amused, but she knew what Raziel was going to say next. And, as much as it tore at her very being, she couldn't deny it, either. Somewhere, her Creator must be laughing at her.

“...I don't believe it. You're in love with him.”

And there it was. That pathetic human had somehow touched her very being, and changed it. She loved Anson. She! The implications were....well, let's just say she was as unhinged as an angel could be about it. Maybe she couldn't deny it, but there was no way she was going to say so! So she resorted to glowering at Raziel. Lucifer was the master of glowering at someone, and her current form, cute and petite though it may be, was actually quite effective for the task.

Trust me, if you've never had a young girl glower at you, it's a scary thing. Even to an angel.

Raziel flinched. “Right. But you...look, you can't have him.”

“As if you could stop me.”

Raziel considered that. Standing against Lucifer? Sure it was possible, but not easy. There was only one being in all Creation who'd done so with any degree of success prior. And Michael was, well, a special case.

“Maybe I couldn't stop you, but I'd rather be unmade than let you hurt him.”

Lucifer frowned. “Again, I ask, what is he to you?”

“He is my Son.” Raziel seemed proud of this fact.

“...you? You?! Begat a Nephilim?”

“Yes. The Metatron came to me, and forbid it. Laying with a Daughter of Eve, I was told, could be forgiven. But if I Sired a forbidden child, then I would forever be Damned.”

“...wait. You were offered forgiveness?”

Raziel nodded. “I know. It gave me pause. But I loved Karen so much...I couldn't deny her.”

“Incredible. You, of all beings, defied your Creator...for a mortal woman's love.”

“I'd tell you to go to Hell, but...”

Lucifer managed a small smile. “Yes. Well, I suppose I don't have much room to talk.” She sighed. “Still, he seemed totally human to me. Imperfect. Pathetic.”

“And yet...”

“And yet, for the first time, I saw in him humanity's true potential. Just a glimmer, of course. YHVH would never let any of us see his full plan. Ever.”

“You're still bitter about that.”

“Yes! Yes I am!”

“I can't blame you. Consider this. I was made the Keeper of Wisdom and Secrets. And I don't even know.”

“Heh. Poor Raziel.”

“Shut up, Lucifer. Anyways, when you gave him your power, I guess it awakened his true nature. I was actually hoping he'd be mortal after all. Things are so complicated for him now.”

“I'm not going to take my mark off of him. However...I acknowledge that your claim is higher than my own.”

“Lucifer...what has he done to you?”

She shook her head. “He broke me. Michael beat me, but even he couldn't break me.”

“I...I'm sorry.”

She waved her 'brother' (or should she consider Raziel a sister, now?) off. “The flaw was in me all along, you didn't put it there. YHVH did. It's all one great joke. Why I was never punished. Because one day, a forbidden child would come to me, and defeat me with a mere touch.”

“It does sound like something our Maker would do. Ineffable, as always.”

“And a total bastard. Go, leave me to my misery. That child could never fathom how I feel, nor even begin to....” She trailed off.

“You've never known hope, have you? Don't underestimate my son. Just when you think he can't be more pathetic, he goes and does something wonderful.”

“Whatever. Get out of my house.” She made a shooing gesture, and none too gently banished Raziel from Hell. Which was, for the moment, her kingdom. She took off the iron crown and looked at it. “YHVH. If you're listening, I hate you. I hate you with every fiber of my being. Because I would trade this crown in an instant, just to feel that boy's arms around me again. Damn you. Damn you!” She hurled the crown to the floor.

For even if an angel takes human guise, even if they possess a human body, they cannot cry. Even if they wanted to.

-

Bundled up in a heavy coat, I attended my own funeral. Raziel introduce me as her niece, Anna. I'd noted at this point that angels, for all their superiority to humans, aren't terribly creative. Anna? Anson?

But I didn't argue with her. I had other things on my mind. My funeral was a pretty somber affair, with a closed casket. Although she'd destroyed my original body, Raziel had created a facsimile to provide everyone with closure. It just barely did the job, hence the closed coffin.

“There's rules, regarding our powers. One of the most important is, an angel cannot create life.” Or so she said. In a manner of speaking, she'd helped create me, so it would seem there are certain loopholes that can be exploited.

According to Raziel, my new body was actually twelve years old, but honestly, at 4' 7” and only 68 lbs., I looked more like eleven. I had short light brown hair and dark grey eyes. The girl (whose name I didn't know) had this delicate sort of prettiness. I imagine when she was older, her features would be considered striking. Not that I intended to use her body that long!

So there I was, in this dark blue coat, with a red beret on my head. Yeah, I know. My Daddy dresses me funny. But it was strangely cute, in a way. I was miserable.

It was a cold, grey day. It had been raining on and off all morning, perfect weather for a funeral. Mom, that is, June, my foster Mom, was crying her eyes out. I wanted to go to her, tell her everything was going to be ok. But how could I? Mark, my foster Dad, was comforting her as best he could.

Elisa was trying her best to be stoic, but Celene...Celene was crying openly. Which, if you knew here like I knew her, was a shock. Celene had lost a lot of family members over the years, and she was no stranger to funerals. She claimed death didn't bother her anymore. I guess she was wrong.

Heck, even my friend Dan was there. He wasn't crying, naturally, but he looked fairly grim. Dan was a strange friend to have. He was a little taller than me, more athletic, and way more popular. He had wavy dark hair, and blue eyes that the girls were always sighing over, with a slightly dusky skin tone that suggested partially Arabic descent.

I wish I'd made a will, so I could at least leave him my manga collection. He'd appreciate it.

We'd both studied at the same martial arts dojo, and sure enough, Sensei Kyle was attending as well. Kyle was a tall guy, really tall. Like 6' 5”. He had a lean, muscled build, and he was a lot faster than you'd think. His background originally had been in Boxing and Muay Thai, before he got into Mixed Martial Arts and Kickboxing. After he retired from the ring, however, he'd attempted to create a less lethal system of self-defense. It still didn't have an official name, but it was pretty damn effective. I'd only been a passing fair student at the Black Dragon Dojo, where Dan was one of the best. I'd spent a lot of long hours mastering the basic forms. I felt ashamed that, when the time came, I'd used what I'd learned to kill.

I mean, I could justify killing those terrorists, but...should I? Once you start justifying things, didn't that just lead you to worse acts? The road to Hell and all that. Of course, if you knew the right people, Hell wasn't so bad...which didn't help me any.

I finally couldn't take it any longer, and I fled the scene. At about the pace of a brisk walk; my borrowed body didn't have a lot of stamina. Raziel called my name, but didn't follow. I think she understood.

I needed to be alone.

I walked out of the cemetary, and sat down on a bench facing the street. It was raining again, and I knew I'd pay for this later. Probably with a cold and a fever. But I didn't care at that moment. So I watched the traffic.

I heard a splashing noise, and I turned to the right. There was this little girl, maybe all of seven. She was carrying an umbrella, running at full speed, only to jump and splash in a puddle. Then she'd move onto the next puddle and repeat the process.

Something about a kid managing to enjoy herself, even on such a dismal day, made me smile. She ran in my direction, but rather than splash me, she stopped and held out her umbrella.

“You're gonna get wet!”

“If I take your umbrella, you'll get wet too.”

She seemed to think about that. “Not if I stay close to you!”

I couldn't argue with her logic, so I held up the umbrella, and she scooted in front of me. “See? Told you.”

I nodded. “You were right. I'm Anna, what's your name?”

She grinned at me. “I'm Sophia.”

“Pleased to meet you, Sophia. Where's your Mom?”

“Mm. She's always around. Don't worry. Hey, I want to tell you something.”

“What's that?”

She pointed up. The sky parted, just for a moment, and I saw a rainbow form. “Even when it's cold and grey, somewhere, the sun is shining.”

-

She ran off after that, returning to her play, leaving me with her umbrella as I considered what she'd said. It was a surprisingly mature thought from a little girl, and it got me to thinking. That's when a girl sat down next to me.

“Hey.”

I turned and realized it was Celene, wearing a long coat. She had on a pair of dress shoes (I didn't even know she owned dress shoes!) as opposed to her usual thick soles. She'd washed the dye out of her hair as well, although her bangs were still lighter in color.

“Hi.”

“Your Aunt Karen was looking for you. Why'd you leave like that, did you know Anson?”

I shook my head. “No, but she talked about him. It's just...everyone was so sad. I couldn't take it.”

She nodded. “Me neither. I hate funerals. People think I'm Goth, and that I should really like them, you know? But that's not how it is. Death seems so...stupid, sometimes. Especially when it takes someone good.” She looked at me. “You shouldn't sit like that. It's okay now, but in a few years, it won't be.”

I blinked. Huh? Then I realized what she meant. I was sitting like a guy does, legs apart. It had never occurred to me before that girls don't sit that way. I blushed as I realized why.

She grinned. “Relax, you're still young and cute. You can get away with it.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah..but not as much as I used to be. Growing up is a pain. I wish I didn't have to. Hell, I'd trade with you in a heartbeat. When you're young, you don't worry about love.”

“Love?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Love is stupid. What's the point? You love someone, and they're just going to leave you one day. When you love people, you give part of yourself to them, right? But when they're gone, you got nothing. You're empty inside.”

God, I wanted to hug her so badly, tell her it was going to be ok. But what could I do? I had to say something! I thought of Raziel, still keeping all the photos of Mom and me. And how he had made himself look like her, so he'd never forget. In a way, she lived on because of him.

And me.

“It's true, we do lose something. And it hurts. But we still have the memories. As long as we remember, our love can never die.”

She choked back a sob. “Anson...”

I did hug her then, and she hugged me back. She cried for awhile, and I admit it, I cried as well. When it was over, the rain stopped and she kissed me on the forehead. “Kid, you're alright. I'm Celene.”

“Anna, but you knew that.”

“Yeah. You remind me of him, somehow. Come on, let's go back.”

-

I never did return that umbrella.

Once we got back, Raziel held me close, not saying anything. I watched Celene walk up to Elisa, and say something to her. She'd been trying to be the proper lady, but at Celene's words, she broke down crying, and I felt a sharp pain in my heart when I saw the girls comfort each other.

“...Raziel...I...I can't...”

She nodded. “I know. Let's go home.”

I slept on the car ride home; to my surprise, Raziel was driving at relatively normal speeds. I had a funny dream. In my dream, two armies were massed on an open meadow. One wore black livery, the other white.

Then two beautiful young women strode out towards the middle of the field. The white Queen was tall and regal, while the dark Queen was dark and mysterious.

“How did we get here?” The White asked the Black.

“Who can say? Love, I suppose.”

“Do we have to fight? I don't want to.”

“It's beyond us now. If we weren't doing this, someone else might be. At least we can save something, this way.”

The White queen sighed. “I love you, you know.”

“Of course, I've always known. Just as I have loved you.”

The White Queen gently touched her enemy's cheek. “Then why?”

“You know why. Without him, we were incomplete.”

“It's not fair.”

“I know.”

The taller Queen frowned. Then, “Can we?”

The smaller Queen nodded. “Just this once.”

The two took off their crowns and their clothing, and made love to one another in the field, even as their armies watched on. Afterward, they clung to each other like lovers, shivering in the chill air. It seemed like they would never part. But part they did, and naked, they strode back to their armies, and sounded the call to war.

I woke up then. “No!”

Raziel looked at me. “Anson? What's wrong?”

“I had a dream.”

“I'm very good at dreams. Maybe I could help?”

“...Elisa and Celene were in it.”

“Ah, it was one of -those- dreams. Tell me, did they make out in your dream?”

“Yeah, actually...hey!” I glared at her.

She grinned. “Those two are very pretty. Why in a few years, they'll really be something.”

“Dirty old man!”

“You say that like it's a bad thing!”

How the hell had God made such a pervert! “Forget it, I'm not talking to you.”

“I'm sorry Anson, but it's perfectly normal for a boy your age to have dreams like that.”

“In case you've forgotten, I'm a girl! I shouldn't be having...it wasn't like that!”

She smiled. “Girls can be attracted to other girls you know. Which is so hot.” She fanned herself.

“Ooh!”

“Admit you, you think so too.”

I did, but damn if I'd tell her! “Look, the dream was serious, ok?” I started to explain it, and when I was done (skipping over the girl-on-girl stuff), she was very quiet.

“I shouldn't have taken you lightly. A dream like that means that something has changed, and for the worse. Unless you act now, that future may very well happen.”

“Well what the heck can I do now? Anson is dead and I'm a little girl!”

“It sounds like you really need to get them to sleep with each other before it's too late.”

That's when I started throwing things at her. We almost got into an accident, but I felt vindicated. Honestly!

Although, later, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I wondered if my perverted parent wasn't onto something. Assuming the lesbianism was a metaphor conjured by my adolescent mind (I did have some perverted genes, after all), I just needed them to admit their love for one another. As friends.

I got up and went downstairs to Raziel's computer. It was a very nice one, with a three terabyte hard drive and a processor that wasn't technically on the market yet. It was time for 'Anson' to leave behind a few messages from the grave.

-