Zariah Jefferson
When I was nine, my parents bought me a new high-end telescope. I loved looking up at the stars. I enjoyed it even more when my father passed away. They were a reminder that I wasn’t alone, that someone or something was looking over me. My mother was a nurse who often had to work long shifts just to make ends meet; living in Brooklyn, New York, wasn’t exactly cheap, so for the most part I was on my own with nothing but the outer universe to keep me company. As I got older, those feelings of grief and loneliness never really went away; instead, they were accompanied by a sense of curiosity, recklessness, and bravery. I wanted to be an astronaut. Someone who didn’t just look at the sky but went beyond its boundaries, or at the very least I wanted to be the guy that made all those sights possible. I went to school to be a rocket scientist, or an aerospace engineer for short. I wasn’t a genius, but I did well. I graduated from Princeton University near the top of my class and quickly got an internship for NASA, so yeah, not too bad. To celebrate, my friends and I went on a camping trip. Though I was teased for being a quote “city boy” from the Big Apple by my hillbilly friends, I will admit gazing at the sky from a polluted city was nothing compared to witnessing it from the wilderness. The fresh pine punctured my nose as I took in the beautiful landscape around me. The flowers beneath my feet were almost painfully vibrant, each pungent with a scent so wonderful it’s as if Mother Nature took her best perfume and sprayed it on the ground just for us. Faintly I hear the sounds of a nearby stream. The birds and distant insects whisper secrets none of us can understand, and the stars are so vivid you can almost identify them from this distance. Here in the dead of night I’ve never felt so at peace.
“Are you done stargazing?” Ryland asked, clearly impatient.
“Sorry, it’s just it isn’t like this in the city.”
“Better or worse?”
“Definitely worse, at least when it comes to this.”
“Elias just texted; he managed to get the fire going. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” I took one last look at the sky as I walked with Ryland to our campsite. The tents were pitched and the fire was lit; we ate and drank till one in the morning, singing weird campfire songs everyone was familiar with except for me. Still, it was fun to try and sing along.
Elias put his drink in the air and shouted, “And finally, a toast to Jackson, the coolest nerd we’ve ever met!” Ryland and I both clinked our drinks with his. The night continued for another hour, sharing stories of my best and worst moments and drinking more alcohol than I could handle. Finally, Elias put the fire out, and we headed to our own respective tents. Before heading in I glanced up at the sky, and there was nothing. It was pitch black; I couldn’t even see the moon. Must’ve had too much to drink. I took this as a sign to get some sleep. It was surprisingly easy to doze off; ever since my father died when I was ten, I’ve always had pretty bad insomnia, but in the forest everything seemed easier. Suddenly I jolted awake; the pungent smell of flowers was replaced by a trio of rotten eggs, iron, and sweat. In a state of panic I fled the tent, and the once beautiful forest had turned into the bustling city of Brooklyn, New York. The sounds of the forest had been replaced with a cacophony of voices, construction, and music, but no one was outside. I was in the middle of a sidewalk, and not a single car passed by. This was a nightmare. I tried slapping myself awake; nothing. I tried again, and still nothing. Finally I saw someone; he was blond with bright blue eyes and a polite smile. The man was beautiful, not handsome or attractive, just beauty in its most superficial form. As alluring as he was, another part of me felt nauseous at the sight of him. He began walking toward me at a steady pace. I started running. I ran away as fast as I could; in a normal dream my limbs would begin to slow and my peripheral vision would start to blur. This, however, felt real; I could feel my heart pump as I continued to rapidly inhale and exhale. I never looked back; I kept begging myself to wake up, hoping that Ryland or Elias would jostle me awake, but nothing happened. Too tired to continue running, I collapsed on the ground and waited. The man never came, but slowly everything began to fade away—the buildings, the sidewalk, even the sky. I closed my eyes to blink, and then I was awake. I was covered in sweat but otherwise fine. Needing some fresh air, I stepped outside only to see my two best friends dead on the ground. Ryland’s body looked half-eaten, as if some animal had torn through him. My vision seemed to blur. Only then did I notice the fire. Elias’s head was roasting inside the flames. In a moment of desperation I grabbed Elias’s body and pulled him out of the fire. His face was melted and disfigured; it didn’t even look like Elias anymore. Still, I continued to hold him, rocking him back and forth.
“It’s still a dream. It’s still a dream.” I chanted. I sat there for who knows how long until I noticed him. In the distance I heard a rustle like a bird opening its wings. I gently laid Elias’s body on the ground next to Ryland. I mindlessly followed the noise; I most likely was walking to the animal who did this. I didn’t care, to be honest; I just needed something to do, someone to face. That’s when I saw him, a middle-aged man with shoulder-length dark brown hair looking up at the sky. Attached to him was a pair of massive black wings dripping with a substance similar to oil. Without thinking I stepped forward; the man, suddenly alert, turned to face me, and he opened his mouth as if to scream. A loud, piercing noise reverberated through my eardrums; I clutched my ears as I fell to the ground in pain.
“Stop.” I was begging, “Please…STOP!” Then it did. On the ground I lay on my back. Hurt and tired, I shut my eyes, waiting for whoever this was to finish the job. It was morning when I woke up. I was greeted by a pair of bright blue eyes staring straight at me. I sat up in shock. The first thing I noticed was physically I felt amazing; all the subtle aches and tiredness from pulling all-nighters disappeared. I felt like a newbornbaby. Then I looked at him. Huh, so I didn’t just imagine those wings. They were impossible to miss, stretching at least 18 feet long. I start to make the connection that he’s not the one who killed my friends; if he wanted to kill me, he would have already. Instead, he saved me and even…healed me? I’m reminded of those murals at the old church my family used to go to. I stopped going after I left for college, not because I stopped believing; I was just too busy with everything. In a moment of courage I spoke to him.
“Hello… Um, who are you?” What are you? may have been a better question, but I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. He stared at me and said nothing.
“My name is Kel. Did you see who killed them?” I ask urgently. He tilted his head as if confused; still, he said nothing.
“My friends, Ryland and Elias, you were there; I saw you!” Again he says nothing. Growing more frustrated, I decided to threaten him—big mistake. “Fine, if you won’t talk, then I’ll call the cops.” Instantly he grabs my arm and squeezes, not enough to hurt but enough to serve as a warning. I stare at him in shock.
“Sorry.” I say quickly. He puts my arm down but doesn’t back up, his once threatening eyes now sympathetic. Now that I’m looking at him, really looking at him, he looks so tired, almost drained. Then in an instant he’s on the ground, unconscious. His wings suddenly vanished; he looks just like a normal man now. For a moment I wonder what to do. I can’t call for an ambulance, so I decide to take him to my car. My apartment isn’t too far from here, and I just need to clear my head. I hoist him up and carry him to the car. He’s surprisingly light. When I made it home, I tossed him on the sofa; hopefully all he needs is some rest. I take a moment to think: my friends are dead, there’s a man or angel with wings on my couch, and I’m losing my mind. Great, sounds about right. For the rest of the day I watched him. He doesn’t move; he almost looks frozen in time. After three days he finally wakes up. I’m startled by how fast he wakes up; he looks around sharply and then looks at me. His face is unreadable.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” I speak quietly. The last thing I want to do is startle him.
“Better…thank you.” So he can speak.
“Who—who are you?” He doesn’t answer.
“Are you an angel?”
“No, not anymore.” His head hung low in shame. He sounded utterly defeated.
“What does that mean?”
“I am responsible for a great evil. I unintentionally created a demon, a demon that has taken countless lives. Including the lives of Ryland Smith and Elias Jenkins.” He looks straight at me, his gaze piercing. All at once it hits me.
“That man was a demon?” The angel nods solemnly.
“Wait, hold on, you created him, why?” I could feel anger creep up again. This was an angel, a being of infinity, and yet I couldn’t see past what he was saying. I couldn’t stop thinking about them, the way they died so brutally, and that horrible nightmare I had. Why would an angel create something like that?
“During WW2 the death toll was over 50 million; I was sent down to earth to help guide their souls to the afterlife. While I was there, I stumbled upon a young boy named Michal Maxwell; he was sick and severely malnourished. I defied orders and restored his health; that boy went on to become a serial killer responsible for the deaths of 23 lives as a human and countless more as a demon.”
“Wait, what do you mean you defied orders?” I asked. He sighed, his voice drenched in regret.
“No angels of any kind are allowed to interfere with the lives of humans; our purpose is to guide and protect your souls, nothing more. I broke those rules, and I was cast down; my only purpose now is to kill the monster I have created.”
“So if you kill him, you’ll be sent back to heaven?”
“No, once a being is cast down, there is no hope of return.”
“Well, that’s unfair.” He looked at me confused. “I mean, you couldn’t have known he would become a serial killer.”
“It doesn’t matter; hundreds of lives are gone because of me. All of them, and for what?” His voice softens to a whisper.
“So, how do we find him?” He turned to face me, baffled.
“There is no we. This demon is beyond dangerous.” I interrupt him before he could say more.
“Wait, hold on, this monster kills my friends, tries to kill me, and you want me to just forget about this?”
“Yes.”
“No, and look, you still owe me after that stunt you pulled.” He tilts his head again, confused.
“Remember when you nearly destroyed my eardrums?” He looks away sheepishly.
“I was trying to warn you; I haven’t directly communicated with humans in quite some time. In the mist I forgot we don’t communicate the same way.”
“It’s fine. God, I can’t believe I’m talking to a real angel. You look so…human.”
“When on earth we often take on a human form, my celestial body is much bigger in comparison.” I take a moment to wonder what his true form looks like; if the length of his wings is any indication, he must be huge.
“So what happens now? Are you leaving?”
“Yes. Michal is right before my eyes; I have to finish this. I cannot let more innocent people like Ryland and Elias die.”
“What if he comes back and tries to finish what he started?” Suddenly he stood up and placed his hand on the wall; the room began to glow an iridescent blue; an unfamiliar symbol was now carved into the wall. He turned back to me.
“Now your home is protected from his influence, and here, keep this.” He pulls a silver cross necklace from his pocket and hands it to me. “This will protect you from any psychic attacks.”
“Psychic attacks?”
“Yes, Michal, he likes to play with his victims, often giving them such horrible delusions they resort to self-harm. Ultimately ending in death.” A terrible thought just popped into my head. I picture Ryland’s half-eaten body and Elias’s half-melted skull. Did they do that themselves? I try to imagine a scenario so horrible that someone would resort to eating themselves alive in order to escape it.
“Thank you.”
He nods, “Of course, and rest easy; your friends are resting peacefully in Heaven.” In an instant he’s gone.
The streets are dead of life or nearly dead; though most of my power has been cut off by heaven, I can still sense him, Michal. He’s close, so close. He wants me to find him; it’s a trap, I know it is, but I can’t lose him, not now. Then across the street I see a young boy no older than four carrying a limp woman on his back. Is this a trick set up by Michal? If so, it’s a poor one. How could a little boy possibly carry his mother out here? What circumstances would even allow this to happen? Still I investigate. It could be a trap to lure in other humans. I walk over to the boy, careful not to startle him.
“Hello, what are you doing out here? It’s not safe to be out here so late at night.”
He doesn’t respond.
“Why are you carrying that woman? Is she your mother?” He doesn’t stop, but he does respond.
“None of your damn business!”
“Please, I’m—I’m a doctor. I can help if she’s injured.” Finally he stops, his eyes filled with suspicion. I crouch down so I’m at eye level with him.
“Please, I can help you.” Gently he sets her down at my feet. She’s the spitting image of her son—blonde, small, and covered with bruises. I didn’t waste time and put my hand on her temple. In an instant all her bruises vanish. I do the same for her son, and he looks at me stunned.
“How did you do that?”
“Who did this to you?” I say firmly. His eyes switch from stunned to angry again.
“My dad, but forget him; he’s gone, and he’s not coming back.” I see; it’s all starting to make sense.
“What’s your name?” He’s silent for so long I assumed he didn’t hear me. Was I communicating correctly?
“Aaron.”
“You’re very brave for taking care of your mother, Aaron.” I say absolutely.
He turns away embarrassed. “Can—can you help us get to a hospital?”
“Of course.” In less than a second we were at the closest hospital. Aaron has a look of bewilderment on his face. I make sure to tuck my wings back on before anyone sees.
“Be a good boy and take care of your mother; she’s going to need you.” He nods finally out of his trance. The more I look at him, the more I realize he looks exactly like Michal back when he was still human. He has blonde hair and perfect blue eyes; they hide a silent anger, full of resentment for their circumstances.
“You can be good; you are good. Please, I need you to promise me.”
“I promise.” A wave of relief washed over me. His promise could mean nothing, and at such a young age, who knows what he could turn into too? Still, what’s life without faith? A voice buzzed in my head, “Still haven’t learned your lesson, have you?” Michal. I can sense him; he’s leading me somewhere. This is my chance. “I have to go. It was an honor to meet you, Aaron.” I summon my wings and fly. After following his voice, I land in a desert in New Mexico. In the middle of the wasteland lies an old barren church with a lackluster “Welcome Home” banner across the front. This is a trap, obviously, but what better chance is there? I walk into the church, wings out, sword at the ready. The inside is beautiful, with paintings depicting heavenly angels smiting monstrous demons; the more I look, the more the illusion starts to shift. Once paintings depicting heavenly beings triumphing over evil, they were now a stained glass mural showing my reflection. I can see for myself how far I’ve fallen; even by human standards I look grotesque. My wings, if you can call them that, look broken and disheveled, colored an ashy gray, leaking with the last traces of grace I have left. As I stay completely still, my reflection begins to move. “Seraphial, it’s been so long.” His voice comes from a thousand different directions in a thousand different languages.
“Michal. I have been searching for you for decades.”
“I know, but I had to get everything ready for you.” Before I could ask what he means, my reflection morphs into another illustration depicting my brothers and sisters, angels. Michal shouldn’t have even known about being tormented by Michal’s shadows. I turn and see the pews are now filled with humans; every human Michal has killed now looks at me with mangled faces twisted in disgust. I try to keep my voice steady, but I can hear it tremble. “Michal, why?! Do you hate me that much?”
“Hate you? Seraphial, I’m doing this for you. Those angels are the ones who cast you out. Everything I’ve done is to help you.”
“And what about the lives you took? What have they done?!”
“My strength has to come from somewhere. Why would you care about them? They are nothing.” I wonder if Michal has always felt this way about humans. Even as a mortal himself, he killed without cause and showed no mercy.
“You of all people should know that’s not true. When I touched down on earth, I realized what I was made for; I realized I could save souls instead of just guiding them to the end.” The broken human bodies in the pews began to leak a black sludge from their mouths until the floor was flooded with the dark mass that was Michal Maxwell. I drew out my blade. “Seraphial, you know that won’t work on me.” His voice filled with mock pity. The first step to defeat him is to tear down this illusion. Before he can react, I put the blade to my hand and carve the disenchantment into my palm, and I clap my hands together. A light both bright and powerful enough to smite this illusion sprang forth. The beautiful paintings crumbled to reveal an old warehouse isolated from town. In front of me, Michal, now in his human form, stares at me. He looks perfectly content, almost glad; it’s disturbing, to say the least. “Fair enough, but at least reveal your true self too; you owe me that much.” I ignore his comment and clutch my blade; I will my weapon to transform. Instantly my sword turns into a lance. Here they come. A marching band of demonic hounds forms from the inky remnants of the illusion; only this time the hounds are solid, composed of pure malice. My lance spears through 5, 10, and 500, all in succession. The band doesn’t stop but changes shape. Instead of just hounds, a million tiny birds spring from the corpses of the demented dogs. His plan is clearly to tire me out, but in his arrogance he forgets I am far older than him and those angels he slew in the past. This battle could go on for eternity, and I wouldn’t even break a sweat. “ I remember the first time I saw your true face. It was both beautiful and horrifying, yet this is what you choose to look like. A structure of fragile bones, a few liters of blood, and a crumpled mess of organs all wrapped in a mass of flesh. I don’t get it, but then again, even the angels didn’t get it. You don’t belong in heaven, and you don’t belong on earth; there’s only one place beings like us go.” Michal’s taunts go ignored; there’s nothing he could say to change anything, nothing at all. I chuck my lance at a stray bird. To my horror, as my spear pierces through the bird’s heart, a serpent the size of a mountain springs from the bird’s mouth. An illusion. Still, in the one second I was caught off guard, a million hands from every possible direction grabbed at me, viciously pulling the flesh off my body. Finally I understand his goal; he wants to rip me apart and expose my true form. It is moments like these I’m reminded of how accurate H.P. Lovecraft was in depicting his monstrosities. A being so incomprehensible to a human mind it forces the brain to shut down entirely. In my true state I’ll be seen by thousands of humans, and their minds will turn to mush. In that moment I will kill more humans than Michal ever did. Okay, fine, I’ll use the only option I have left; I kept it well hidden just in case. My hands are confined; that’s okay. All I need to do is to say the word.
“Nạsại,” the world goes white.
PART 2
“Shhh, it’s just another nightmare. Just breathe.” Aaron held his brother and pulled his head to his chest. David silently cried in hysterics, clutching his older brother tightly. “Same nightmare?” David shook his head.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Again he shook his head. He never liked talking about his dreams, especially since he could remember every single one of them. He held his brother close, ignoring the constant whispers in his head. The voices never made any sense; some were too quiet to hear, and some were in a completely different language. The only thing he ever understood was that these voices utterly hated him. When he told his brother about them, he panicked, making him promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone else.
“If you tell Mom and Dad, they’ll send you away. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen, and you hardly ever hear from those kids again.”
The brothers had always been close. Despite the fact that they shared different dads, Aaron was never once mean or resentful like the other older brothers David would see on TV. He loved him, and the thought of being cast away absolutely terrified him. So from then on David never said a word, not about the whispers, the visions, or the shadows; it was their own little secret. The next morning Aaron didn’t wake up for school. Mom and Dad had already left for work. David, in an effort to try and wake him, pulled off his covers only to reveal his 17-year-old brother’s bloodied body. It looked as if he was scratching himself bloody in his sleep. David, in a panic, attempted to shake him awake; when that didn’t work, feeling helpless, he began to scream beyond any point of hysterics.
“Now now, don’t be afraid,” Aaron instantly sat up on his bed, his beautiful blue eyes now looking so artificial they could barely be considered human. David, torn between fear and relief, stood still. Was this just another prank? Aaron had a habit of playing jokes on David but never to this extent. “See, he’s alive, safe and sound.” He sounded so pleasant it was disgusting. Then his features shifted into one of revulsion and absolute disdain. It didn’t even look like him. “So-so, this is what you chose to be? It’s fitting actually. How about this? Every time you sleep, I’ll do this to your brother.” He raised his arms as if it wasn’t clear enough. “As long as you’re awake, he’s safe; if you’re not, he won’t make it till the next morning. Sounds fair?” On instinct David nodded. Instantly, the room reverted; everything was back as it was, and even Aaron was completely healed. Now he was resting peacefully in his sleep. David, still in shock, stood frozen until Aaron finally woke up naturally.
“Shoot, shoot, I overslept!” He yells, panicked. He stares at David for a second, confused why he’s there. “Probably tried to wake him up,” he concluded. Aaron, in his daze, never noticed David’s horrified expression.
“David, what time is it?!”
“Nine” is all he can say.
“Shoot,” he grumbles, defeated. “Hey, want me to give you a ride to school? We’re already late anyways.”
“No, I’m going to stay home. I don’t feel good.”
Aaron shrugged, “Your/ funeral.”
Yes. Yes, it was. For the next two weeks David stayed awake. His visual and audio hallucinations increased tenfold, all telling him the same thing. Don’t fall asleep. For once he agreed with them. His fears came true when his horrified parents took him to the hospital. After days of psychological examinations and therapy, the doctors agreed that sedation was the only option left. David screamed and thrashed, begging the doctors not to do it. Still his pleas fell on deaf ears. His mind and body were deteriorating. The intense stress was eating away at his psyche, leaving his body defenseless. He was going to die, and everyone knew it. Especially Aaron; at night in his room, he sobbed. This was his fault, all of it, he thought. He was selfish; he knew his brother had been struggling but told him to keep it a secret, in fear of what, losing him? Now he was going to die in the slowest way possible. Aaron then shrugged; if his brother did die or lose his mind, he would go right behind him; already he could feel himself slipping. At the exact moment David involuntarily closed his eyes, Aaron, from over ten miles away, felt something break. It started as an itch in his head and then exploded into something completely agonizing. It felt like something was trying to push its way in, as if his flesh and bone had given entry to something foreign. Aaron tried to stand, to move, but he couldn’t do anything; his whole body felt paralyzed.
“Shhhh. Don’t try to fight me; I’ll even take you to your brother.”
“What the hell, who are you?!!” The demon didn’t respond; as much as he hated possessing human vessels, the idea of seeing “David’s” face as his own brother skinned him alive was too good to pass up. For three hours he forced Aaron to walk to the inpatient hospital where his brother was being kept, and Aaron, despite having no control, could feel every exhausting moment of it. He fought; lord knows he fought with all his anger and rage, but it was useless, or so he was told by the demon. When they finally made it, his body was teleported into his brother’s room. David looked awful. His body was bound by straps of leather buckles as his small, now malnourished-looking body looked so defenseless. Upon seeing this, the demon snapped his fingers, and David awoke with a start.
“Aaron?” was all David could say before Aaron wrapped his hands around his throat and squeezed. David, now noticing he was no longer bound, instinctively clawed and scratched at Aaron’s arms. His pleas made way to strangled cries, “Please…sto-.”
“It’s alright; maybe you’ll win next time.” Aaron’s voice has never sounded so soft; it was sickening. It was then that Aaron remembered someone: his father. The way this entity spoke was exactly like his father. He remembered every sweet word, every broken promise. The way he would look so lovingly into his mother’s eyes after beating her into a pulp. Despite his mother’s bruises, the only thing he could picture was her eyes, so filled with betrayal. It’s the exact same look his ten-year-old baby brother had on his face. With a strength strong enough to rival God’s, he let go of his brother’s throat and jumped off the bed.
“Get the hell out,” Aaron grumbled. A feeling of distilled hate surged through him. Never. Never has he felt a rage like this before. His nose started to bleed from the pure shock of it; his entire nervous system was shutting down. He wouldn’t survive this…this onslaught of disdain. The eyes. Remember the eyes, Aaron mentally chanted. He remembered how happy Mom was when she finally found someone who loved her. He remembered the look of pride Victor had when he finally adopted Aaron as his son.
“To hell with you.” The demon screeched in his head, so quiet and volatile.
“Hell’s gonna look like fantasy when I get done with you!” Aaron spat with the same amount of vitriol. He felt something crawl up his throat—a hand, then an arm, then a whole human torso crawled out of his mouth. The body melted into a puddle of ink before the room began to spasm and shake. Wasting no time, Aaron carried his brother out of the room and ran.
“Aaron, stop here.”
“Nope,” stated Aaron resolutely. Suddenly David jumped out of Aaron’s arms and stood firm.
“I can stop him. I—I can stop him now. I couldn’t before; he was too strong, but…because of you, I can stop him.”
“David, what the hell are you talking about?!”
“I remember. An exorcism—I can send him back to hell!” Without hesitation David used his unclipped nails and clawed at his skin until blood poured freely from the wound.
“David, stop!!”
“It’s okay, just trust me. I’ll save you just like you saved me.” Aaron paused, and though he felt every instinctual need to run, he let David work. In no time at all David made a signal on the wall composed of his blood. Then they both felt something pull. It was as if reality was being pulled from underneath their feet. Quicker than Aaron ever thought possible, David put his hand to the circle and whispered, “Cadere.” The world turned white for a moment before finally returning to normal.
“What—what did you do?”
“I sent him away; he’s gone.”
“How did you know to do that?” David shook his head, as if he’d forgotten it himself.
“How did you resist him?” David asked in turn.
Aaron blushed as if embarrassed. “Don’t know. I just…thought of our family, and…I guess I was able to overpower him.”
“Awww, I love you too.” David teased. He felt a high he hadn’t known before, as if he had a fistfight with the devil and won. Though, he supposes he did. His brother pulled him close and hugged him hard enough to hurt. David didn’t care in the slightest, returning his hug with all the strength he could muster.
“Whatever, loser, let’s go home so you can sleep; you look awful.”
David laughed. “Yeah, I feel awful.”
As they walked outside, David couldn’t help but notice how much more vibrant the world looked now. The stars in the sky shone brighter than ever before, only highlighting the loving smile on his brother’s face.