He made his way down the staircase and finally stood in front of the kitchen door. For the first time since he had arrived, the door was closed. Chris frowned as he stared at it. Why would it be closed? Wasn't the kitchen always open? He turned the doorknob tentatively and it opened easily. Well, it's not locked, he thought and opened the door.
The lights were off in the kitchen and Chris couldn't smell any food at all. Weird. He thought he remembered that the light switch was a few steps to the left of the door and so he walked slowly in that direction. The door closed behind him with a sharp click and he was in total darkness. He ran his fingers along the wall, feeling up and down for the switch. Where is it? he wondered nervously. Finally, he felt the square metal plate beneath his fingers and flipped the switch up gratefully. The lights came on, momentarily blinding him and then he looked around and his jaw dropped.
He wasn't in the kitchen any longer. In fact, he was standing, not on tile, but on dry, cracked earth in the middle of what looked like an arid plain. What the hell? Chris stared around in disbelief.
The plain was as dry as a desert, with bits of dead grass poking up through the rough, dried soil. Scattered here and there Chris could see trees, leafless and gray; as dead as the earth around them. A lonely wind slipped by him, warm and arid. The only smell was that of dust and lifelessness. It was the grimmest place that he had ever seen or imagined.
Imagined? Chris realized that he must be dreaming. Well, he thought, this is the saddest, most desolate dream he'd ever had. Very vivid though. The wind occasionally slapped by his head and whipped his hair across his face and under his chin. He shook his head.
“What a crappy place to end up,” he said out loud.
“True. But I still call it home,” said a voice to his left.
Chris jumped and spun around, staring at someone who he was sure hadn't been there a minute ago. Then he rubbed his hands over his eyes. Yeah, definitely a dream, he thought. Because he was looking at...himself.
The other Chris was staring at his twin with an expression of both satisfaction and sadness. He was wearing the same blue jeans and white t-shirt that Chris was wearing, but they were covered in dust and grit and crisscrossed with a network of wrinkles.
“Welcome to my realm, Chris,” his twin said. “I'm glad we have this chance to speak together. I'd say it was about time.”
“Um, yeah. Right,” Chris said with a dry laugh. “I don't really feel like talking to myself, even in a dream.” He looked around again. “And if I was going to live somewhere, I sure wouldn't pick a dead place like this.”
The other Chris shook his head. “You don't live here, Chris. I do.” He studied Chris for a long moment and then reached out and grabbed his arm. He pinched it...hard.
“Ouch! Hey, what was that for?” Chris pulled back his arm and rubbed the red spot where he'd been pinched.
“You aren't dreaming, Chris. This is real. After what happened today, I had to speak to you. It's a horrible risk, but I decided to chance it. I pray it doesn't come back to haunt us later.”
Chris kept rubbing his arm until the pain subsided. Yeah, you can't get hurt in a dream. Can you? He looked at the red mark on his arm again, then back at his doppelganger.
“This...is real?”
“It is real, Chris. As real as our brief encounter was today.”
“Our brief...” Chris suddenly backed up several steps. “That was you today? That thing in the judge's office?”
The other Chris' shoulders sagged and he looked down. “Yes, that was me. I am ashamed to admit it, but I cannot lie.” He looked at Chris. “They are clever, these mortals that you are with now. To draw me out like that.” He turned and looked out over the plain. “It was pure reflex, Chris. I never meant to frighten Anna, let alone hurt her. I'm grateful that she's okay.”
Chris felt a stab of anger. “Okay? You almost crushed her. If she hadn't closed that damned box, you would have smashed her into the ground!”
The other Chris turned around and held up his hands in denial. “Never! I would have stopped. I would have...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head again. “Or perhaps I wouldn't have. I don't know, really. All I truly know is that I'm happy that she is unharmed.”
“Yeah, well, so am I.” Chris' anger faded as he heard the honest regret in the other Chris' voice. “So, what are you? Are you an archangel, like Anna thought?”
The second Chris stared at him for a long moment then made a gesture across the plain. “Would you walk with me, Chris? We can talk as we go.”
“Yeah, I guess. But why walk anywhere?”
Chris's twin set off and he fell into step beside him.
“I have something to show you before you leave, so we can talk until we reach our destination.”
“Out here?” Chris said dubiously. “Okay then.”
“I want to tell you a story, Chris,” his twin said. “I'll keep it brief. If your absence is noticed before I send you back, it could cause complications.” He ran his fingers through his hair and shook it out. A cloud of gray dust blew away in the wind.
“It's the story of Creation; sort of. I have to tell it this way for you to understand who I am and what you and I are meant to do.” The twin fell silent and walked on for a few minutes. Chris glanced at him and, knowing that face so well, assumed that he was collecting his thoughts. Finally, the other Chris began to speak again.
“Before Creation there was nothing, except God. Time has no meaning in the realm of the spirit, so who can say how long He was alone.” The twin glanced at Chris. “Understand that I will use words like He and Father to describe God, but they are only references. God has no gender. It is merely easier for me to speak of Him this way.”
Chris considered that for a moment. Of course, it made sense.
“And then, God decided that He no longer wanted to be alone. We can't know why. Certainly He has never said. I believe that He was lonely. But that is only my thought. At any rate, God decided to create companions. And because He had never made another being, He used His own life force in the creation of these beings.” The twin fixed Chris with a piercing stare. “Pay close attention to this, Chris. God used His own essence to make these new life forms.”
Chris didn't understand what was so important about that point but he nodded anyway.
“Good. And the Lord created his firstborn children. Three archangels, born in the same instance, were brought into being. There was Michael, he who loves mortals more than any other angel in Heaven. Michael the true. Michael the loyal. Michael, in whom the love for God never wavers. He came into being. And then there was he whose name I will not speak. The Angel of the Morning. The most beautiful creature, after God, who has ever existed. The thinker, the doubter, the questioner. He who fell to Earth.” The twin stared at Chris. “Humans have named him Satan.”
Chris' eyes widened. “You mean Luci...” The other Chris cut him off.
“Do not say his name. Ever!” Chris stared at him in confusion.
“But why? What's so bad about saying a name?”
His twin sighed loudly and shook his head. He stared ahead as they continued to walk.
“I know you've heard the expression 'Speak of the devil', yes?”
“Yeah, of course,” Chris replied, wondering what that had to do with anything. “You say it when you're talking about someone and they walk in at the same time.”
“Exactly.” The other Chris turned to look at him. “The entire expression goes like this: 'Speak of the devil and he appears'. When you use that name, which is rarely uttered in human society these days, you can attract that monster's attention. He won't appear, of course, but it could draw his gaze. And that you must never do.”
“Okay,” Chris said. “That's weird.”
His twin laughed softly. “Indeed. But it's true, so be warned. Now, to continue. The third archangel who appeared at this first moment of Creation was different from the other two. Loyal yes, but cautious. Loving certainly, bu
t with conditions. Accepting of all of God's laws, but willful. He was named Sariel.” The twin stopped and turned to Chris. “That archangel was me.”
Chris' eyes widened. “You?” he gasped. “You were one of the first three angels ever created?”
“Yes, Chris. Me. Imperfect. Flawed. Always hesitant where I should have been bold. Doubting myself. Yes, I am Sariel.” He smiled weakly. “Nice to meet you.”
“Um, nice to meet you too...Sariel.”
“Thanks, Chris. Let's keep walking. Time is short.”
The pair walked on, slowly making their way across the barren plain; little puffs of dust lifting with each footstep and then being blown away by the gusting winds.
“And so the three, let us call them brothers for simplicity's sake, were created. But God, who learns from every action and reaction, realized that He need not use His own essence in the creation of life and so used the power of His thoughts as He created the next rank of archangels, and then the angels; the seraphim and the cherubim and all the rest. But take heed, Chris. Only those of us who were first, myself and my two brothers, were created from the Lord's own body. Remember that; it will be important later.”
Chris glanced at Sariel as they continued to tramp across the plain. Although he had thought that the supposed archangel was a perfect replica of himself, he was now noticing differences; whether Sariel was changing or he was simply paying more attention, Chris wasn't sure. But across his face, Chris could now see faint scars; three of them that crossed diagonally from the upper right temple to the lower left jaw. His twin was limping slightly; his right leg dragged behind him as he raised it with each step. And his mane of hair was even longer than Chris'; it hung down over his eyes and flowed over his shoulders and halfway down his back. Chris wondered what was going on and if he was just imagining the changes. Sariel continued speaking.
“As each new child of God was created, Heaven was extended. It grew in size and complexity, becoming a realm of wonder and beauty and delighted the newly born angels.” He became thoughtful again. “How long this period lasted is impossible to say. Time has no meaning in the spirit world. Heaven is ageless and eternal. But by and by, our Father brought our limitless numbers together and spoke to us. He directed us to witness a new creation. Another realm; the material world. An altogether different environment than that of the spirit. And we angels, we watchers, observed as with a thought, the Lord sparked the instance that spawned the Universe.”
Chris almost tripped over his own feet in surprise. “You saw the Universe created?” he asked in awe.
“Oh yes, Chris. We were privileged to be present at the birth of matter. It was magnificent, and humbling to be allowed to share in our Father's work.” He hesitated again. “But almost from the beginning, as we watched enthralled as the Universe spread out, as galaxies were born, as stars were formed and solar systems coalesced, as planets spun into existence, my brother the doubter began to question God. 'What is the point of this?' he asked. 'Is not Heaven great enough, boundless enough to enjoy forever? Why create this imperfect, crude thing called matter?'”
“He actually questioned God?” Chris was shocked. “But, how could he? Isn't that, I dunno, blasphemy or something?”
Sariel laughed, but with a note of sadness. “Perhaps, Chris. But being of the firstborn, my brother was bolder than most, and knew that God loved him and so was never reluctant to make his doubts known. God simply did not answer. Why should He? Why would God need to justify Himself to anyone, even an archangel? I think...I think that that was the moment when my beloved brother, my Angel of the Morning, began his slow descent into betrayal and evil. That one question started him on the road to ruin.”
“But how? Okay, maybe he was out of line questioning God, but that isn't evil, is it? Doesn't everyone do that, now and then? I'm sure I have.”
“Yes, you have, Chris.” Sariel looked stern for a moment and then grinned. “And no, it isn't evil. It is very human of you, considering the life you've lived over the past few years. But for my brother, his doubts simply grew. He watched, as we all did, as life began in the Universe. Crude, single cell organisms gave way to complex ones. Plants appeared, followed by animals. We of Heaven were enthralled. But my brother? He was insulted, disgusted. 'We are perfect,' he would say. 'So why waste our interest and passions on these pathetic and imperfect lifeforms?' He felt superior to our Father's creation. And then came the moment when everything changed.”
As they were walking, Chris noticed that the path they took over the plain was leading to what seemed to be a drop-off, perhaps the edge of a cliff. Sariel said nothing but Chris watched anxiously as they continued to march toward the sudden drop.
“Our Father summoned us, his first born sons. He wanted to show us something new, something that He said would be wondrous, that would increase the glory of Heaven and bring more souls into Creation. Michael and I were intrigued, excited. But our brother was suspicious. 'More souls? What do we need with more souls?' he asked. 'We have angels innumerable in Heaven. Is that not enough?'”
Sariel looked mournful and Chris was listening closely. What could the devil have possibly done? They stopped for a moment, about fifty yards from the approaching drop. Chris glanced up at the sky. He hadn't really noticed how odd it looked. There were no clouds and the sky was a uniform, pearly gray in color. It matched the sad, sere landscape and was a bit depressing.
Sariel had been looking off into the distance, perhaps gathering his thoughts before continuing the story. He caught Chris' eye and Chris was surprised to see tears in his eyes. He wanted to say something comforting but no words came to mind. Sariel just smiled and seemed to understand. He continued his story.
“Our Lord did not answer my brother's questions, nor did I expect Him to. God does not explain himself and does not need to. Instead He led us into the material world, across galaxies, past black holes and wonders innumerable. Until we finally reached a small, unremarkable planet that had only just come into being. The world was shaken by immense storms, continuous eruptions from volcanoes, massive earthquakes. There was no life present, no water except steam, no sky except for the stars. In other words, it was a new world just coming into its own. And the Lord directed us to enter the physical plane, to become beings of flesh and not just of spirit.” He looked keenly at Chris. “Of course, we had done this many times, become physical beings to experience the wonders of the many worlds that existed across the Universe. But my brother had never done this. He found it offensive. But God had commanded it and so he joined us in the realm of matter. And we stood there, the three archangels and God Himself, looking very much as humans do now. Two legs, arms, eyes. My brothers and I were winged as we always had been.” As Chris began to speak, Sariel shook his head. “Don't ask me why we were created that way, Chris. But, whether in spirit form or matter, we angels look the same. And so we stood there and the Lord Himself took shape, looking as we did but wingless. And we observed this world in turmoil and wondered why we were there.”
Sariel reached up and wiped his eyes and Chris wondered why he was so emotional. Crying was not something Chris did, not for years. It showed weakness and weakness on the streets was a signal for the wolves to move in.
“And then our Father told us of His plan. 'Here, on this little world, one day, will rise a race of beings. Formed as we are formed now, they will become sentient. They will form bonds of family. They will love and live and die. And when they die, those I deem worthy will be elevated and join my angels in Heaven.” Sariel's voice quickened and he smiled through his tears. “Michael and I were overjoyed. God's love would be multiplied even more! We would have new brothers and sisters and Heaven would become ever larger and more magnificent. We were so engrossed in this revelation that neither of us noticed the effect it had on our brother.” He pushed his hair back off of his face impatiently. “He was enraged. I realized after the fact what had happened, what he must have been thinking. 'God was allowing beings of matter, imperf
ect, flawed bits of nothing to join the ranks of the immortals. How dare He?' Our Father was standing before us, looking out over the explosions of lava and the steaming earth. Even in mortal form, His light was not diminished; He shone like a star in His fleshly form. And then I saw my brother, whom I had loved through time immemorial, sidle up to my Father. He extended his hand and there appeared within it a weapon.” Sariel eyes widened and Chris knew that he was reliving the moment as though he were still there. His face was flushed and the look of disbelief and betrayal was heart-breaking.
“A weapon. Never had I seen an angel wield a weapon before. But in his hand he held a dagger, glowing red like molten steel. And as our Lord looked out over the Earth, my brother raised this dagger to strike Him down.” Sariel shook his head and blinked several times. He stared at Chris. “I had never held a weapon before. No angel had ever committed a violent act. But seeing this treachery, I reacted without thinking. In an instant, I called forth a weapon of my own. Forged from my fear and rage, I raised a flaming sword above my head and lunged at my brother. He turned, swifter than thought, but could only fold his wings across his body to shelter himself from my blow. And though I tried to pull back, my sword sliced across him and his wings lay severed at his feet. With a scream of agony, he leaped forward and raked his hand across my face.” Sariel touched the three scars that ran jagged from his brow to his chin. “And with his dagger blazing, he slashed my left wing and...crippled me.”
Sariel was weeping now. Chris wanted to comfort him, this being who looked so much like himself, but he didn't know what to say. How could anyone conceive of such a crime? Finally, Sariel wiped his eyes and continued his story.
“God had turned at the very instant of the attack and, before we could continue our battle, if we even would, He drew us back into our spiritual forms and instantly transported us to Heaven. And there we stood, Michael, who stared in shock and disbelief at what had occurred, myself, now a maimed and broken thing and my treacherous brother, more crippled than I, in the midst of the Heavenly Host who could only look upon us and weep.” He must have noticed Chris' look of confusion. “Yes, Chris. Our injuries were mirrored upon our spirit forms as they had been on our mortal ones. A human may suffer attack, be injured and disfigured and be whole again after death, but an angel is not body and soul together. We are a single entity. Harm us in the physical world and you harm us in the spiritual world as well.”
Confronting the Fallen Page 11