by A A Bavar
TWENTY-FIVE
I am the harvester of souls, but for that I need souls worth harvesting. I viewed Man as an unworthy crop – rotten on the inside, vain on the outside and bitter to the taste, and so I picked his soul with the utmost disdain. And although it went against my very core and purpose, I could not – or would not – change, and it eventually consumed me. My heart was black, and I saw myself as a grotesque reflection of Lucifer, for I hated Man for his weakness while he loved him for it. And then came the illusion; Kay. For a brief moment, I saw light in my heart and my skewed vision of Man’s shortcomings was overcast by his potential and will to do the right thing. But what is the right thing? I used to say that I could always count on Lucifer to do the right thing once he didn’t have any other options; Man is the same. For Man, greed always shouts louder than the desire to do right, and tonight was no exception.
I was perched on the top railing of the Empire State Building, and Bran, feeling the anguish that was me, circled above and cawed incessantly at a pitch so ear splitting that it shook the very skeleton of the world. Then, he suddenly dived, shooting past me toward the place that we both knew was to mark a new leaf in the history of Man. I watched him disappear in the darkness below as I stared down at the city that never sleeps. Never sleeps because of the infestation of life in all its unworthy manifestations. At my will, I could focus on the smallest living soul, but I couldn’t find Kay. Why? Because she was dead, and with her my oath. Not all souls needed to be offered redemption at death, but would she forgive me for not being there? For not keeping my promise.
I leaned forward and dropped from my perched position with my arms in a spread-eagle pose, my overcoat flapping and whipping behind me. If I could die like Man, I would allow my body to shatter on the pavement below. But what I had in mind was just as destructive and permanent. I crashed through the pavement and dove into Mother Earth. Seconds later, I exploded through the asphalt by the bicycle stand at the Pizza Palace. I stood there statue-like, cold and haunting, and stared at Kay’s bike still chained to the rack. People scrambled into the parking lot to see what had happened, but none dared to approach. I didn’t care about the commotion or the sensation of awe and fear, and without moving a muscle let my eyes scan the quickly growing crowd. I just needed one person.
“It’s him!”
The shrill shriek came from behind me. I turned. Standing there, eyes wide open and jaw gaping, was one of Kay’s coworkers. I covered the ground between us in a blink. There was no need for cover-ups or pretending to be human. A simple disappearing act was nothing compared to what Man would be witnessing by the end of the night.
I looked down at his dumb and bewildered stare and, in a whisper of a voice consumed by hatred, said, “Where is she?”
The boy was blank, in a pause. His brain was off somewhere on a break while his body remained to fill the void like deer in the headlights. How illogical to freeze in the path of certain demolition instead of running – no chance to live long and prosper. I placed my thumb on his cheek with my index and middle fingers resting on his temple, and although governed by pure emotion and no logic, the result was the same. Our minds melded and through the torrent of unrelated thoughts and imagery, I honed in on what I was searching. I saw Kay in a blur on her phone looking ashen and felt the despair in her voice quicken my heart. The scene was almost palpable and although I could not hear the voice on the other end of the line, I knew who it was. Kay rushed out and tried unlocking her bike, but the lock was stuck. She tried again and again, pulling and yanking the chain from side to side, but it was useless. I wanted to reach out and tear the chain apart, because I knew that lock would never open, not with mere earthly force.
I heard steps behind me and let go of my captive’s face. Without taking my eyes off of him or turning, I swung my arm back and pointed at the two men who were cautiously approaching.
“Don’t!” I snarled.
The men froze in their tracks.
“Why didn’t you help her?”
“I, I tried… but when I came out she was already gone,” mumbled the boy.
“Which way?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
The boy gulped, keeping back the fear that was about to swallow him. “Sh…, she went back through there,” he said, and pointed in the direction of the alley across from the parking lot.
I jumped back into the crater and moved in the direction of the alley; towards ultimate pain, my strongest ally. My existence – for the most part – was governed by a torment that I would not allow heaven to heal, but this was a sorrow that heaven could not heal. I wanted the physical punishment to numb the feeling of complete despair that was rushing to invade me, but I also wanted to know the whole truth and prepare for the burden that was mine alone. I was not naïve and always knew that grief would be the price that I would have to pay for love, but not like this. Some people die for love, but its loss was my death.
The ground above me swelled and collapsed like the crescent of a wave as I smashed through rock and soil looking for Kay. And then I was there. I’m not sure how I knew, but she was above me, her delicate and slender body lying in a lifeless mound. I broke through the asphalt just a mere foot from her and hovered momentarily over her before slowly kneeling down. Her head was turned to the side, away from me, but I could still see the delicate features of her face, the youthfulness of a stunted life. She looked serene and calm, almost as if she were sleeping, except for the aura surrounding her. I noticed the faint aroma of jasmine mixed with roses and my eyes filled with tears and for a brief instant I wished that I were my old self; callous, withdrawn and bitter. Broken bones and burned wings could be mended, but not a broken heart. I looked down at her and wanted to push aside the hair from her face, as I had done so many times before when she was a child, but I couldn’t. I was afraid of the contact, of the images that would invade my mind. My tears flowed freely and my soul collapsed as I was assaulted by a cataclysm of despair and grief. Losing one’s self happens quietly when enveloped in a vacuum filled by absolute hopelessness, but for me it was also the most terrifying and agonizing scream. Once again, the thing that chilled and terrorized me the most was my own nothingness.
Suddenly, there was loud thunder as the demonic scream escaping me reached its crescendo. I felt my body burn as rain started to fall and looked up. Thousands of glittering raindrops showered me, and I closed my eyes and let them kiss my face. They were hot and cold at the same time, and then just as suddenly, they were gone. I remained motionless and allowed the emptiness that was inside me to surround me. For that instant, the world was mute. I opened my eyes and stared at the blown out apartment windows above me and felt blood run down my face and neck. There were cuts and shards of glass in me everywhere.
“Humanity will pay,” I said, in a low and lethal tone.
I looked down at Kay, but to my surprise – and relief, her body was untouched, the glass neatly surrounding her like a bed of crystal. Was it me? Had I done that? It didn’t matter. My attention was focused on the nine-pointed-star around her neck. She had always kept it close to her, with her, never letting go of the memory of her mother. But that star was also a link between us, a connection that I was yet not ready to sever. I reached down and gently touched its surface. The rush of feelings and images which immediately pushed, no, forced their way into my mind was overwhelming. I gritted my teeth and forcefully shut my eyes in an attempt to control my anger and desire to destroy just long enough to see the truth, and when I reopened my eyes I was, for the last time, seeing through Kay.
Kay was quickly walking down the same dark and dank alley that we were in, her focus on the soft, yellow light at the end where it connected to the street beyond. She was uneasy and I heard her angry thoughts as she chastised herself for coming this way. Then, she thought of me and how I would be upset and hastened her pace. I saw her breath condense and rise in the cold, crisp air in front of her as she moved ahead, looking back over her shoulder periodically to
make sure that she wasn’t being followed. She was almost halfway through the alley when it happened. Suddenly, a hooded figure stepped out in front of her from a recess in the wall. Kay let out a yelp and jumped back in surprise.
“Who are you? What do you want?” she said, in a shocked but controlled voice.
I immediately knew who it was that she was looking at. Her eyes were fixed on the snake tattoo wrapped around the neck of the scruffy looking man blocking her way. The man, a switchblade in his right hand, moved forward without saying a word. His movements were precise and deliberate, and it was clear that he knew what he wanted. I felt Kay’s heart – or was it mine – quicken and she spun around and started running back, only to stop after a few steps. Her way back was blocked by a second man also holding a knife.
Her response was swift and immediate. Before the man could understand, Kay pivoted to the left and her right foot shot up and struck his knife hand like a cobra. At the same time, she smashed her left hand, palm open, under the attacker’s nose. I heard the crunch of breaking cartilage as the knife went flying. The man recoiled and dropped to his knees in shock, blood streaming from his broken nose. But the punishment was not over as a spinning kick to the head sent him crashing into the sidewall, knocking him unconscious. Kay immediately spun around to face her first offender, and although I had witnessed the ending, I was relieved to see that she was just in time. The man turned killer lunged, thrusting his knife forward in a jabbing arc. Kay, as if in slow motion, sidestepped the attack and gripped his knife wrist, bending it downward and twisting it simultaneously in one violent movement. The killer roared in agony and let the knife drop. Kay pushed his arm up as she repeatedly rammed her knee into his right kidney. The killer doubled over coughing. She let go and jammed the heel of her foot into the side of his back. The killer sprawled over some broken boxes and landed hard on the ground with a thud.
Kay didn’t hesitate. She turned and ran down the alley as fast as she could towards the streetlight. I felt her relief; the feeling that the worst was over. But my nightmare was just beginning. I couldn’t look back, couldn’t see the killer get up, but because I had seen Kay’s slain body I knew that there would be no escape. Her exhilaration, the feeling of relief and the embarrassed apology and explanation she was planning in her head for me would never come. My chest tightened more and more with Kay’s every step and my throat was so constricted with anticipation that I could barely swallow. I’m so sorry, was my only repeating thought.
The bang behind us was not very loud, but the explosion of pain in Kay’s back was suicidal. She flew forward and landed hard on her side in a puddle on the alley floor. She blinked several times and then her eyes closed. The world became a haze of smells and sounds as her heart and thoughts slowly faded. And then there was the sound of change, loose change spilling out of a glass jar, and for the first time I saw little Kay as she counted her money that day, years ago.
“Az,” she mumbled, “I need a dollar nineteen cent miracle…”
It was over, she was gone; the light that guided me, the life that I had sworn to protect. There is nothing worse than losing your reason for living and death for me would be a welcome relief. Now, it was my turn. No one could stop me.
“I’m so sorry, little one.” I slowly, gently, removed the necklace from around her neck and put it in my pocket.
TWENTY-SIX
Bran, without warning, swooped down from the night sky and dived at something behind the dumpster just meters from me. The killer was hiding there, I knew that, but Bran wanted to make sure I knew. There was no doubt that Bran wanted to take the bastard apart piece by piece, starting by pecking his eyes out, but I wasn’t in a rush. And, although I was incensed by the images in my mind and wanted more than anything to inflict pain – a word that doesn’t come close to doing justice to what I had in mind – my feelings of grief were still too overwhelming. I had to allow the sadness to dissipate so that I could savor every second of the hunt before I killed him.
Suddenly, the killer ran out screaming with Bran in close pursuit. He stumbled on the rubble from where I had emerged and fell to his knees. But his fall did not slow him down as he scrambled in panic on all fours, screaming in terror as Bran dived and pecked at his head and face mercilessly. The attack was so savage and relentless that within seconds the killer’s face was covered in blood, and all he could do to survive was to cover it with his arms and roll into a ball. I shook my head in disgust, and still kneeling beside Kay, called Bran off. Bran, dejected, flew to me and landed on my outstretched hand. He looked at me with those black, endless eyes and as a drop of blood fell from his beak, I allowed myself a meek smile and nodded. The killer, realizing that his attacker was gone, jumped to his feet and dashed for the street corner, as he screamed and flapped his arms wildly above his head. I didn’t care or try to stop him. There was nowhere in creation, on this earth or any other, where he could hide from the demon that was me. Immediately, a car screeched to a stop in front of him and he jumped in the back seat as the driver floored the gas pedal and sped away.
I remained kneeling with my hand in my overcoat pocket a few moments longer, then slowly released the star and stood. It was time to kill a killer. It was time to head for hell. “You know not from what you run. Today, you die.” I wasn’t making a threat. For me, it was a simple, unequivocal fact. Tomorrow would not exist for him. I would not let it.
My leather overcoat, torn and cut, glistened with blood, and every inch of my body burned as if on fire. But I welcomed the pain and wanted it to last so that fading memories and feelings would not dampen my desire to inflict ultimate pain while avenging Kay. My hair hung loosely and was matted with blood. I touched my cheek and pulled out a piece of glass, causing a new rivulet of blood to run down my face and neck. Blood dripped freely from my fingers and I watched as it formed a puddle on the ground beside me.
“And now, the hunt begins.”
I turned to leave, but heard a familiar swoosh and looked up to see Michael, my brother – the warrior saint, defender of heaven, leader of the army of God and slayer of dragons – descending on me. He looked perfect, the unblemished image of the ancient warrior angel with shoulder length dark hair that curled neatly down, framing a hard, chiseled face with distinct lines and piercing brown eyes; quite unlike me. And then there was the body armor, blackened steel embellished with an intertwining gold lion and dragon ornament with a cuirass made of bronze, and a black cross as his coat of arms. To complete the visual, his vambraces were of black leather with gold studs and stripes leading to his wrist. In his right hand, he wielded a heavy sword, its hilt fashioned in the form of a lightning bolt. He looked calm and controlled, again quite unlike me. But there are different kinds of control and mine was focused on revenge. I knew what I wanted and would do. I had no doubts.
Bran, intelligently, took off into the night and left me to deal with Michael. I looked at my tattered and very used overcoat and wondered what my broken and bleeding face looked like. Michael and his armor looked too clean, too heavenly. His whole being at that moment frustrated and irritated me to the point that I wanted to give him a good beating so that he would remember what it was like to have dents and bruises. But I had other pressing matters to tend to.
“Azrail, you cannot mean that. Taking a human life would destroy you, and I will not allow that or allow you to break your vows.” Michael’s commanding tone would have shaken the confidence of Cyrus the Great himself, but all it did to me was heighten my resolve. I felt the desperation and torment that had consumed me just moments before dissolve only to be replaced by cold fury. I fixed my eyes on Michael.
“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same, like you did before with the dragon. For five thousand years, I was nothing but a transport for the human soul. I witnessed the greatest atrocities that any living thing could commit. And by who? The very souls that Father treasures. And now, this,” I said, and motioned to Kay’s body. “If my submission, destruction, or wh
atever the hell the result of me doing what’s right is the price I have to pay, then so be it! There is no one left for me to want to control the beast that I am. I can’t escape fate. Lucifer can have me and my rage.”
Michael looked at me and then at Kay, and for an instant I saw anguish in his eyes. “Brother, Lucifer is playing you. Don’t give him the satisfaction. You are not like him.”
“And that’s why I have to.” I knew Michael was right. Lucifer and I were polar opposites. He lusted for Man and I protected Man, but not because of love; because of justice. “I had sworn to protect her, be there for her, and I let her down, Michael. So, if I’m hell bound then it will be because I did one last thing for her. I avenged her. How can I not?”
“No! Your vows…”
“I haven’t forgotten my vows,” I said matter-of-factly. “How could I? They became etched deeper and deeper into my being with every foul soul that roamed these grounds. I had no say in anything, no matter how barbaric, unjust or inhumane. I watched Man’s greed infest the world over and over every time a megalomaniac tyrant didn’t get to suckle enough. And each time, I was not allowed to interfere or do anything. I had to stand by and wait for their soul and then offer redemption. Not anymore. The day I became the keeper of souls was a curse in disguise. But today, it ends. Today, I’ll do justice the way it was meant to be.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Rain was coming down hard, and the flashes of lightning were more and more intense as dusk became night. I was standing on the ledge of a tall building waiting while the storm around me thundered in full vigor, its angry growl reverberating through me. I was drenched, my long hair hanging down loosely about my face with my overcoat whipping back and forth in the wind like a headless snake. I imagined my silhouette against the dark sky – blacker than night, and let my eyes smile momentarily as lightning streaked across the sky above me. I wanted to put the fear of every demon, beast and monster in the killer before taking his soul. I remembered Gestas in his terror, but this time I wanted more. If I was to end my rein, it would not be a trivial moment; I wanted to make sure that it was justified by the magnitude of my action.