Fall into Darkness

by Skyler Andra

  Every molecule in my body hardened with disgust. The desperation for pleasure, for survival, had climbed to a whole new level. Was it a reality of human nature? Or a seed planted from Luc’s plague?

  “Why don’t they go out into the streets?” I asked, exasperated. “They should admire the grey clouds streaking the sky. Then they’d find delight in the simplest of things.”

  Uri smiled at me, a pathetic, tight expression that weighed heavily with pity. Because I didn’t understand this world or why the humans did strange things. “If only it were that easy, then the darkness wouldn’t exist.”

  The truth hit me like the blow to Uri’s hand. He was right. I had so much still to learn about Earth, about the humans, and even the darkness. I rubbed my face, my chest aching where Lucifer had reached into my grace and carved some out. My darkness responded to and fed off my negative emotions: shock, fear, anger, and more.

  I caught Uri’s hand again, desperate for his warmth to chase away my residual anxiety. “Why do they do this to themselves? Take drugs? Besides how it makes them feel.”

  Uri shrugged his taut shoulders. “We all need something to keep the long, dark nights at bay. It can get awfully lonely when you have no family, no friends, no partner. Life hits some people pretty hard. They lose someone they love to death. They lose every worldly possession. They fail and can’t seem to succeed.”

  “I guess I can believe that.” I had been with the other two angels for half of my time on Earth and hadn’t known true loneliness, not like Uri must have experienced. But I understood the fear; failing my mission was my worst fear and thinking about it made me stand rigid and tense.

  For once, I wondered whether Lucifer’s darkness was any worse than what the humans did to themselves, seeking instant gratification to feel alive, and the desperation of trying to maintain it.

  “Sometimes it feels like we’ll need an eternity to beat the darkness,” I whispered. “There’s so much of it…”

  “Don’t think like that.” Uri pressed a firm finger against my lips.

  My lips tingled and blood rushed to warm my cheeks. I liked the feel of his digit there. I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped when he drew his hand away. Darkness itched inside my grace. It was an insatiable sensation, constantly demanding to be relieved, but I wasn’t going to give into it whenever it beckoned me. I wanted to be sure my feelings were genuine. Confusion and fear had pushed me into the arms of Zak and Michael. A connection with Uri was also forming, but I didn’t want to spoil his light with my darkness, or let the plague ruin me.

  That said, there was no denying that I liked Uri. Yes, the female side of me admired his attractiveness; those honest and inviting dark brown eyes, broad nose, and sandy blond hair, all framed by a prominent jaw, were appealing. The smile he wore last night and this morning, holding cheer and a hint of cheekiness, made my heart sigh. But it wasn’t just his physicality that endeared me to him. His sense of humor, sometimes strange but educational, brought me joy in this dark world—something so beautiful to encounter.

  After Zak’s sarcasm and rudeness, or Mike’s intenseness and discipline, Uri was a breath of fresh air. He was the right amount of light to balance them out and exactly what the team needed. But I didn’t want to jeopardize the team by letting my feelings get in the way. Not when it had sent Zak into a protective and aggressive rage to defend me after a disagreement with Mike.

  “It’s great having you around,” Uri said, cheer returning to his words again.

  He led me across the street, his chocolate eyes alert as they scanned our surroundings. Something about his words told me he wasn’t talking about his reunion with Mike and Zak.

  “You’re not talking about us, but me,” I said.

  Uri’s grin replaced his earlier concern. “Beautiful and smart.”

  I blushed despite myself. The way he looked at me made me feel beautiful, not just his words.

  I cleared my throat, glad for the change to a lighter topic, and for the opportunity to take his mind off his troubles. “Do you have someone?”

  If the angels had succumbed to the human ways like drinking and sex, what stopped them from having relationships? I was more than curious about what female had claimed Uri’s affections.

  “Nah,” he said. “Not anymore. I can’t really build anything with someone who doesn’t know who I am, someone I’ll have to leave behind when this is all over. Besides, we’re totally different from them, you know?”

  I understood that he referred to our physical differences, but I wanted to understand the deeper meaning. “How so?”

  “Well, take you, for instance.” Uri gestured to me, his posture relaxing a little, losing that earlier tension. “You’re pure and innocent, but you’re a fighter and probably crazy powerful.”

  “What makes you think that?” I was trying not to blush and reveal that I loved it when he complimented me.

  “You have a quiet strength about you.” He glanced at me. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You could have really freaked out back there at Gus’s place, but you held it together.”

  I smiled, quick and grim. I was trying to be strong for him. My stomach was still somewhere on the ground back in Gus’s bakery.

  “And you’re the last one the Most High sent.” He removed the bag from beneath his arm, rustling it as he pressed it to his chest. “This far into the game? Chances are you can pack a punch. Humans just aren’t like that. Besides, your beauty is out of this world, and that’s not some corny pickup line.”

  “Pickup line?” I narrowed my eyes.

  Uri’s grin returned. “You know, when a guy tries to break the ice with a girl, saying something that will make her feel special and get a positive response from her.”

  I laughed. “Do you use those? On women?”

  Uri shook his head. “I don’t have to. They fall for my charm.”

  I giggled, our banter wiping away the rest of my nerves. “Modest too. What do you do, then, if you don’t use pickup lines?”

  Uri chuckled and shrugged. “My good looks sway them.”

  “Again with the modesty.” I laughed, enjoying the way his humor had picked up again. On TV they said laughter was one of the best medicines. In this case I agreed. It erased the seriousness of the incident at Gus’s.

  Uri winked at me. “Well, what do you think? Is it working for you?”

  I shook my head, unable to stop the smile from creeping back on my face now that we had drifted onto a lighter topic after such dark ones. “You’re not going to trick me into telling me what you want to hear.”

  Uri shrugged. “Fine, I’ll just have to show you how I do it, then.”

  “Right.” I bit my lip, loving that he shamelessly flirted with me, and that I reciprocated.

  Uri lifted a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. He brushed the back of his fingers down my cheek and electricity jumped from his skin to mine. This growing attraction between us was magnetic, and I didn’t want to move away.

  “See? My charm works wonders,” Uri said with a wink.

  I would have loved to stand there all day with him, but two less-than-fit angels waited for us back at the apartment. I nudged him with my elbow. “Don’t forget breakfast.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a sigh, and we continued along the street.

  On the next block, a group of grubby men and women wearing holed and dirty clothes formed a line, shuffling into a rundown, old building. They carried the feeling of defeat and hopelessness like a blanket cloaking them. My heart ached from the strong emotions pooling in the one location. I recalled my earlier assessment of the humans not seeming miserable despite the odds they faced. These people defied that. I got the sense that they’d given up a long time ago; pure survival instinct, that animalistic instinct in their reptilian brain, was the only thing keeping them alive.

  I examined the building they entered. Wooden boards covered some of the missing windows. The doors were falling off their hinges and the paint was cracked
and chipped. Weeds were the only things that grew in the dirt where a lawn used to be. It was no more depressing than the rest of the city. Still, an urge flared in my grace to fix the façade and I struggled to hold it back. Then I observed a faded sign out the front that declared the building a soup kitchen. Another sign below that said, “Volunteers wanted.”

  “What is a soup kitchen?” I asked Uri, pointing to the building.

  “They feed homeless people,” he replied.

  “These humans don’t have homes?” What a foreign concept to me. In Heaven we needed for nothing because everything was light. Whatever we needed was at our beck and call. “I thought they provided services in exchange for food and shelter in a bartering system.”

  “Some of them are so lost…” The crack in Uri’s voice made my heart crash to the bottom of my ribcage. “…they don’t want to work. They can’t. They’re the people society forgets.”

  I watched the wretched souls wander into the building, their faces aged by lines and darkened by grime, their eyes empty, their expressions grim.

  How horrible. I had to do something to stop this, to ensure humanity looked after their elderly, lost, and sick. An idea formed in my mind as bright as the light of the Most High. Maybe the angels and I could volunteer to cook soup. Well, after my disastrous effort in Uri’s kitchen, I might offer another service. Perhaps serving the food or cleaning the bowls instead.

  “We should come back here after breakfast,” I decided. “Do what we can to clear the darkness.”

  “Great idea,” Uri agreed. “I’m up for spreading some cheer.”

  6

  Jophiel

  Back in the apartment, Uri placed a paper bag on the coffee table. It contained the breakfast rolls we’d bought at the second bakery. To this I added the tray of coffees beside it.

  “Smells good,” Mike said from the chair opposite us.

  “Where’s Zak?” I asked, scanning the living room.

  “In the bathroom.” He grabbed three wrappers containing the crusty egg and bacon rolls and handed one to me. Always looking out for his warriors. From making sure I trained to use my powers so I could protect myself, to ensuring his troops had enough fuel to fight, all the way to playing it safe by concealing our grace to avoid alerting Lucifer and putting targets on our backs, Mike always ensured we were ready and protected.

  Then I heard it for myself. Zak was still retching inside the bathroom. I passed the food between my hands. After seeing the effect of alcohol on the angels, I was definitely staying away from it the next time the men decided to drink it.

  “I think he’s dying,” the leader joked.

  “We don’t die, remember?” Uri said. “It’s our blessing.”

  He’d fully regained his humor again, and I was grateful he could joke after the disturbing incident. But part of me couldn’t help but note that he used it as a front around the guys.

  “And our curse,” Mike replied, passing a roll to Uri.

  They both lifted their hands as if they were tipping beer bottles toward each other. Our curse? I hadn’t thought about what it would be like to be stranded on Earth for so long, their powers waning, without being able to go home and not having any other way out. Even if it wasn’t something any of us would ever have thought about.

  Death was a luxury, in some cases. Down here on Earth, the religious folk believed that the ultimate reward was what came after. That was the reason Heaven was a place that existed at all. When the human soul departed the body, it left in a ball of light, one accepted into the lower realms of Heaven. Only beings of higher frequencies were able to reach the upper echelons where the Most High dwelled. If the Archangels weren’t able to escape their lives here on this planet, were unable to return home and had no ultimate reward, this all had to be hell. Right?

  I contemplated this as I slowly peeled away the paper wrapping from my meal, taking a quick bite.

  “Someone’s going to have to peel Zak off the floor,” Mike declared before biting into his food.

  Uri sighed. “I’ll do it after my breakfast.”

  My grace stung again, reminding me that Zak needed someone. I put my food down and climbed to my feet. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Uri muttered something under his breath, and I glanced at him with confusion. When he refused to meet my gaze, I continued into the bathroom.

  I found Zak hunched over the toilet bowl, one arm curled over it, his head leaning on his arm. “Fuck me sideways,” he groaned. I cringed, though the pinch in my grace lessened each time he swore.

  “Still not feeling so good?” I rubbed his back.

  “Now I am.” He lifted his head, his dull green eyes brightening.

  “You need to drink that tomato juice, asshole,” Uri yelled from out in the living room. “One glass. You’ll feel better afterward, I swear it.”

  “Anything but tomato juice,” Zak groaned. “Have you ever heard anyone say they feel like a glass of tomato juice? It’s because it’s vile shit, man.”

  Uri laughed. The sound of them bantering made me smile. So much drama over tomato juice, as if there weren’t bigger issues in life. Trust Zak to punish himself like this. Stubborn, reckless angel.

  I got up, determined to get him a glass of juice and make him drink it, even if he moaned about it.

  “Where are you going?” he moaned, reaching out to grab me, but I dodged his grasp.

  “Back in a moment,” I told him.

  In the short time I had gotten to know the archangels, I’d learned much about how they’d adopted human habits, which could be confusing at times, but I enjoyed seeing them together. They swore at each other and punched each other and insulted each other, and they were more loyal than any of the humans I had seen until now. My grace swelled with endearment for each of them.

  While I poured Zak a glass of juice, he emerged from the bathroom, his face pale, his hair wet, and his forehead sweaty. He dropped himself on the couch next to Uri.

  I crept back into the room, holding out the glass to him.

  Begrudgingly, he swiped it, glaring at me then Uri as he slammed it down. “There! Happy?”

  “Pussy,” Uri teased him. “Just you wait.”

  “Feeling better now, Zak?” Mike asked, sipping at his coffee.

  Zak wiped a smear of tomato juice from his top lip. “Better out than in.” He flashed a grin at us all.

  Seventh heaven! Not something I needed to hear before I ate breakfast. I grimaced and shifted away from him to sit beside Mike. Still, I was glad his health and mood were improving.

  “You better not have made a mess of the bowl,” Uri warned as he took another bite.

  Zak’s lips pressed together, and he shrugged.

  “Jesus, Zak,” Uri raised his voice. “I’m not cleaning that up. I’m not your mom.”

  Zak answered with a groan, putting his hand on Uri’s shoulder. “Beautiful to see us like this, huh, sweetheart? Mom here doesn’t want her house dirtied by her deviant children,” he said with a grin that I couldn’t help but return, knowing that if he joked, he must not be feeling as ill.

  “Screw you.” Uri shook him off.

  “Anytime, sweetie.” Zak pouted his lips and tried to kiss Uri.

  Uri battered him away with an elbow. “If those lips come anywhere near me, you’re a goner, buddy.”

  “You’re very entertaining,” I replied to Zak’s earlier question before tasting my coffee and finding it much more to my liking than the bitter brew I’d made an hour earlier.

  “One night and they’re already driving me up the wall.” Uri grinned at me in a way that suggested he wasn’t nearly as irritated as he pretended. “How did you put up with them for a week, Jophiel? And without killing Zak?”

  I laughed. “Believe me, I wanted to.”

  “Hey!” Zak blew me a kiss. “Still want to kill me?”

  “I do.” Mike grabbed an egg and bacon roll and threw it at him. Zak dodged and it dropped to the floor.

  “Tha
nk you, Michael.” Zak leaned down and snatched it up, the paper crackling. His smile changed from amused to charming. “I aim to please.”

  “Tomorrow, how about we get out of here,” Mike suggested once we finished breakfast.

  I hadn’t told them about my idea to volunteer at the soup kitchen yet. Now seemed like as good a time as any. Given Zak hadn’t been well, I doubted he’d be up for the idea, but there was no harm in asking.

  “Out where?” Uri asked, leaning back in his chair and throwing an arm over the back of the couch.

  Mike shrugged. “I don’t know. Sightseeing. I need some fresh air.”

  Zak guffawed. “We’re not fucking tourists. We’ve got a mission to complete. You of all people should know that, soldier.”

  Mike scrunched up an empty wrapper and tossed it at Zak, who caught it. “I know. But I’ve still got a killer headache, and you’re in no shape to fight rats.”

  From my brief time outside, the fresh air had done my headache and queasiness wonders…even if it was plagued with smoke, pollution, and the smell of rotting garbage. I thought the outdoors would do Mike and Zak some good too. I emptied the remainder of my coffee and put the cup down with the rest of the leftovers.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” I announced, earning the attention of all three angels.

  “Oh yeah?” Zak wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and patted his leg.

  I shook my head in exasperation but couldn’t help but smile at him. “In our travels to the bakery, we saw a soup kitchen a few blocks down from Uri’s apartment. I thought that maybe we could volunteer our time to feed the homeless. We could infuse some love and light into the lost.”

  “No way.” Zak sagged back into the sofa. “I’m not going anywhere near those losers.”

  Mike glared at Zak. “We’re here to help every human, not just the ones you deem worthy.”