Tribulation r-2

by Philip W Simpson

  “What was that?” Sam asked, knowing in his heart what the answer would be.

  She smiled at him, the movement sending streaking arcs of lightning through his cerebral cortex, directly wired to the pleasure centers in his brain. “That I’d get to visit you from time to time, of course. Silly.”

  Sam didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. From time to time? What on Heaven and Earth did that mean? Would he only get to see her occasionally, when the hierarchy that existed in Heaven determined her every movement? He suppressed his frustration, feeling suddenly ungrateful and unworthy. What was he complaining about? He had her here and now, with him. How shallow and selfish must he appear? As Aimi seemed to have the same basic mind reading skill that he had, he tried desperately to shield his mind, like he would from another demon.

  And at that moment, he determined that he would change, make Aimi proud of him. No longer would he be subject to his baser temperament. He could control it. He would control it. He shouldn’t have to shield his mind from her. She was part of who he was. She had made him the man he was today.

  He let go of the shield around his mind and relaxed, letting Aimi see the confusion and frustration ebb away. He could see that she sensed it, too, smiling at him again.

  “How often?” he asked, seeking to keep the desperation out of his voice.

  She tilted her head, a delicate gesture he remembered fondly. “When my duties allow.”

  “What duties?” He was intrigued.

  “All angels have duties. Some are assigned to watch over certain individuals. Guardian angels, if you will.”

  “Are you one of those?” he asked eagerly. “If you are, you could get assigned to me. Then…”

  Aimi held up a hand to stop the torrent of excited words pouring from his mouth. “No, Sam. I know. It’s what I wanted too. What I asked for, in fact. I was refused. Guardian angels are often much more senior than I. I’m far too junior and inexperienced for such a responsibility. Besides, you already have a Guardian Angel. Of sorts.”

  Sam breathed out heavily, determined to keep his promise and control his frustration. “You’re talking about Gabriel.”

  “Yes. I’ve been told that Gabriel is much too busy to act as a Guardian angel for anyone, but she made an exception for you. She likes to keep an eye on you.” She paused again and met his eye once more. Sam could detect no emotion from her at all. Was she jealous? Of him and Gabriel? Impossible! Not Aimi. Not his Aimi who was the nicest person he’d ever met in his life. No wonder she’d been chosen as an angel. If she wasn’t worthy, then no human was!

  “It’s not like I see her very often. In fact, I haven’t seen her for years.”

  It was true. The last time they’d had any contact with her was just before he ventured into Hell to rescue Grace. She wasn’t envious, though. As she listened, Aimi’s mind opened to him like a flower in the sun. The only emotion Sam could perceive was love. Love for him.

  “So what is your role, then?” he asked.

  “I act as a messenger. Sometimes, I have to pass on messages between the Grigori and Heaven; occasionally between Heaven and Hell but that doesn’t happen very often. I’m also assigned to report on certain events. There’s more — lots more — going on than you can possibly imagine.”

  Sam smiled crookedly at her, feeling a little smug. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m fairly well informed at the moment. I know for instance that the Antichrist and his forces are planning an invasion of the U.S.”

  “Yes.” Aimi nodded slowly. “We were hoping that this information had filtered through. But there’s more that I can’t tell you.”

  “Rules?” asked Sam.

  “Rules,” she agreed, smiling wryly at him.

  They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. “So, when did you actually become all angelic and everything?” he said, trying to keep the conversation light. He really wanted to kiss her again.

  “I don’t really know. Time doesn’t really seem to well, pass in Heaven. There just doesn’t seem to be any concept of it.”

  “Then how do you keep track of what’s going on in the real world?”

  “I must admit, it’s difficult. Heaven is such a blissful place that you really don’t want to be reminded on what your life was back on Earth.” She stopped when she saw his face fall, and squeezed his hand tightly in reassurance. “No, I don’t mean that I don’t miss you. It’s just that it’s hard to look at all the pain and suffering going on in the world right now when you’re surrounded by perfection. Besides, even if I wanted to see what was going on, it’s really difficult.”

  This was what Sam really wanted to know. In the time since he’d been left alone, had she been watching him? With him in some way? He’d always had this thought in the back of his mind as his comfort blanket. No matter how hard things got, it always made him feel slightly better knowing that Aimi might be watching him.

  “Difficult?” he asked. “Difficult how?”

  She frowned. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like there is a heavy mist between Heaven and Earth. And it’s not just with your eyes. It’s in your head, too. It’s hard to focus on the Earth. You only catch glimpses from time to time, and that’s only when you really focus.”

  “Have you seen me?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said, smiling. “Only you. There’s no one else that I wanted to see. But it was hard. I tried to find you sometimes but I couldn’t. It was as if you’d disappeared or something.”

  Sam had wondered whether his glamor concealed him from angels as well as demons. Although Aimi hadn’t been an angel at the time, it was clear that spirits in Heaven had limits.

  “I can conceal myself from demons,” he said. “That might explain it.”

  Aimi said, “I saw Gabriel on a few occasions. Once she even asked if I could find you, almost as if she couldn’t. Or maybe it was a test to see if I was fit to be an angel. Who knows?”

  “And what about Hikari?” he asked. He felt guilty not asking about his Sensei and father figure sooner, but there were just so many questions he needed answered.

  “He’s so happy.” Aimi smiled brightly. “At peace, like everyone in Heaven. I see him but not as often as I’d like now that I have duties. He watches over you, too, when he can. I know he misses you.”

  Sam’s heart surged with pleasure. He felt like crying again. This moment would be even more perfect if Hikari had been there to share it with them. “And what did you see, when you did find me?” he said eventually.

  Aimi’s face twisted in consternation. It hurt him to see such an expression on her beautiful face. “Pain, mostly. I hated to see you like that. I wanted to see you but every time I did, I’d only find you suffering. My heart ached for you at times like that and I would have given anything to be with you, but as soon as the mist gathered again, I’d forget. Heaven has that effect. Almost as if they don’t want you to remember how painful your physical existence was. I’d see you sometimes when you fought; the conflict that your heart and mind was going through, the loneliness and anger you felt…”

  Tears were rolling down her cheeks. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being in anguish.

  “I didn’t think angels could cry,” he said playfully, trying to change the mood.

  She laughed and wiped away the tears.

  “So, you’re allowed to be here. Now?”

  “Yes, of course.” Her eyes darted to the right. He knew her so well he didn’t have to read her mind. She wasn’t being honest.

  “Aren’t angels meant to always tell the truth?” he asked.

  She slapped him lightly on the arm. “It’s only a tiny white lie. I had to deliver a message and you were nearby so I thought, why not?” She laughed happily. “Besides, I’m not all angel. My human side is still here.”

  “Whereabouts?”

  “Here,” she said, pointing at her head and then her heart.

  “And where else?�
��

  Slowly, she raised her fingers to her lips, never once losing eye contact with him. She smiled slyly. Sam had never experienced such a delightful rush of emotion.

  They kissed again and he savored the salty taste of her tears in his mouth. They were his. The tears were for him. The kiss went on and on and gradually but inevitably turned into something else. Something wonderful.

  He knew he was dreaming. He had to be although he hadn’t dreamt in years. You had to be asleep to dream and he really couldn’t risk it. Meditation had served him in its stead.

  Anyway, dreams were the lovely happy visions that Aimi talked about. Since he was a small boy, all he’d ever had was nightmares. There was nothing lovely or happy about what he saw when he was asleep: flames, pain, suffering; dark voices whispering to him, urging him to release the beast within him. He’d always wake from them in a terrified sweat, screaming, his heart racing, the fear only lessened with the passage of time, and comfort from Aimi and Hikari.

  This time was different though. There were no flames or pain — only an empty, featureless plain that stretched on forever. Above him, dark angry clouds surged. The ground beneath him was cracked and warped, without color.

  He quelled the slight note of panic he felt. Dreams for him could be dangerous. His father lurked in his dreams and as he well knew, his father could be persuasive. He wasn’t known as the Father of Lies or nothing. That was why, when with trusted companions, he slept in a pentacle. Only then, safe in the magical symbol, warded against demons, would he have dreamless, peaceful sleep.

  But he wasn’t in a pentacle, of course. A part of his mind knew that his body was in a bed in a deserted motel somewhere in Ohio. With Aimi asleep by his side.

  He cursed his foolishness. He shouldn’t have been so stupid but he hadn’t been thinking. His mind was filled with thoughts of Aimi and what they’d shared together. Knowing that she was sleeping next to him. He felt so at peace, so happy. It just felt natural and right — so natural and right that he’d just fallen asleep. It was the first time he’d done that in years. It was only now he realized his error.

  He tried to force himself out of the dream, back into reality but it felt like someone or something was blocking him. He willed with every ounce of his energy to wake up. To no avail. The dream landscape remained all too real. He wondered what was happening back at the motel — whether Aimi was alright. He knew she was an angel now and could probably defend herself more than adequately against demons, but it didn’t stop him fretting. The thought that she’d been highly trained with a sword by the same master that had trained him gave him some comfort. Besides, she had wings, didn’t she? As a last resort, she could always fly away.

  Doubts still niggled away, though. Demons lurked around that motel too, in some numbers. He wondered what would happen to his body if demons discovered it unguarded. Finally, he let it go. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

  Resigned, he tried to make the best of a bad situation. He never knew — he might gain something out of this. Perhaps gain some knowledge he could use against his brother. Or father. He tried not to think about either of them. Thoughts were powerful amongst demons. Just thinking about his father sometimes had the power to summon him.

  He did a quick inventory. In the dreams he had experienced before, he’d always been equipped like he was normally in real life. As a boy, he’d been armed with Sinai — his bamboo practice swords. He’d learnt with some pain and terror that bamboo had no effect on the demons sent to torment him in his dreams.

  This time was different. He was armed with his real swords. He was wearing his normal items of clothing and boots. Even his pack was strapped on in its accustomed position. It was vaguely reassuring.

  In the distance, something appeared. Sam focused his vision, squinting, but whatever it was seemed to resist scrutiny. With a shrug, he decided to walk towards it. It was not like he had anything better to do.

  He walked swiftly. When whatever it was in the distance didn’t appear to be getting any closer, he broke into a trot. The object stayed the same distance away. Frustrated, he ran faster and faster until he was sprinting. The object stubbornly resisted his attempts at a meeting.

  He stopped suddenly and thought it through. This was a dream. It wasn’t reality. Physics operated differently in dreams. He focused his mind, willing himself to get nearer to this… thing. To his surprise, it worked. He wasn’t moving, but the distance between them seemed to shrink. It got closer and closer and then, finally, he could make out what it was.

  A chair. In that chair sat a man. It wasn’t until he was six feet away that he knew without doubt who that man was. His father. Satan himself.

  His father was dressed as he often was when they saw each other — calmly crossed-legged in a debonair pin-striped suit. His dark hair was slicked back over his extremely handsome pale features. In fact, if Sam hadn’t known better, he wouldn’t have guessed the figure was a demon at all. He supposed that was the whole point. How else was he meant to worm his way into the hearts and minds of men when he looked like a devil?

  “Ah. My little horn. So good of you to join me. I wondered how long it would take you.”

  Sam hated the way his father was so smug, so knowing. In fact, he hated everything about him.

  “What do you want, Abaddon?” he asked, not bothering to mask his feelings. His father knew what was in his heart in any case.

  His father adopted a mock affronted expression. “Is that any way to talk to your father? And I would prefer it if you did call me ‘Father’, you know. Although the old names have a certain ring to them, I don’t think there’s any call for formalities between us. You are still my son, after all. ” He smiled at Sam, all charm and suaveness. Even Sam, who knew his tricks only too well, had to remind himself who this creature was. It was all for show. He knew what dwelt under the mask of sophistication that his father liked to wear. Everything about him was a lie. So pretentious.

  “Spare me,” said Sam, gritting his teeth. “Let me out of here. I need to return.”

  His father raised his eyebrows. “Return, do you? Who to, I wonder? Have some pressing business to attend to, do you? A hot date is it, Samael?” He smirked and it took every ounce of willpower that Sam possessed not to react with violence.

  “I have things to do, as you well know,” he said, keeping a reign on his emotions. “Haven’t you got better things to do than talk to me? Why not talk to my brother? Surely he’s better company. He may not be a better swordsman than me, but you two have more in common.”

  Satan’s face lost some of its calm. Sam could’ve sworn he saw the corner of his mouth twitch. It was a bit of a sore point, that. The last time Sam and his twin brother had met, Sam had defeated him in single combat. Not only that, but he had then refused his father’s offer to take his place at his side, much to the anguish of his mortally wounded brother. Well, he thought his brother had been mortally wounded. He had run him through after all. Seemed he’d got that wrong.

  “Your brother is somewhat busy at present,” was Satan’s tart response.

  It was Sam’s turn to smirk. “Yes, I know. Preparing the invasion fleet in Europe.”

  Satan looked at him sharply for a moment, silently evaluating his wayward son. “You seem remarkably well informed.” Then he shrugged, seemingly dismissing the matter as unimportant. “No matter. You would have found out eventually anyway.”

  “I’ll ask you again, Father. Why am I here?”

  “Oh, I like that,” said Satan with a sardonic smile. He clapped a couple of times, the noise refusing to echo around the odd landscape. “Cutting to the chase, are we? Refusing to get sidetracked. Very good. Hikari did train you well, didn’t he?” Suddenly, his father’s face lost all traces of humor. “They’re playing with you, you know.”

  “Who are?” asked Sam tiredly.

  Satan raised his eyes upward. “You know. The high and mighties, sitting on their golden thrones. They’re playing games
with you — with your little girlfriend. Do you think it was just a random request they granted her? To see you again? Or course not. They orchestrated the whole thing. The only reason they made her an angel was so that she could have access to you.”

  “And why would they play games with me?” Sam asked suspiciously. “That’s more your style.”

  Satan nodded. “Yes, of course it is, but the stakes are so very, very high at the moment. I think Gabriel and her friends are getting a little desperate.”

  “So what’s Aimi got to do with all this?”

  “They’re keeping you on-side,” Satan said, steepling his fingers thoughtfully. “Dangling an incentive, if you like. For you to remain on their side. They know how much Aimi means to you. If it means you will remain their tool on the Earth, they will happily hand her over to you. They just didn’t want to make it too obvious, that’s all.”

  “You’re speaking in riddles, Father, as usual.” Sam, despite his promise to remain calm, was starting to lose it. He knew he couldn’t do that though. He was certainly no match for his father.

  Satan looked his son in the eye, his expression blank. “They know your loyalties are wavering. They know that deep down, you want to be with your family. With me.”

  “You’re delusional. I’ll never join you!” Sam spat. “You know that. Especially after what you did to my mother. I will never, never join you. This was decided when my brother and I fought.”

  “Ah,” said Satan, “but I told you it wasn’t over. And it never will be. You will always be my son, regardless of what you think or feel. And don’t for a second think that the future is written in stone. That litany of lies — I think you call it the Bible — is believed to contain only the truth. And the future. It contains neither. Who do you think wrote it? It certainly wasn’t me. Would they really say there was any doubt in there? History, as they say, is written by the victors and for such a long time, those do-gooders had their way. But now it’s my time, time for me to write the future. Do you really think everything is going to play out just the way it says it will in the good book? That your Lord, the son of God, is going to come back at the head of an army in a few years and banish me to a bottomless pit for a thousand years? Given that I know that’s supposed to happen, don’t you think I would’ve made plans to counter this?”