Afterlife: A Fall of Angels Novelette

  The woman’s eyes fluttered open, catching Cole’s eyes. She didn’t say anything, just stared at him.

  As Cole let his eyes slide over her body, he knew she wouldn’t make it long. Seeing her now, he questioned his actions. Such a beautiful woman, such a waste.

  “I truly am sorry,” he said quietly as he brushed her hair away from her burned flesh. “It’s nothing personal.”

  She continued to stare at him, her eyes calm as they observed him. Cole felt his skin start to tighten, felt the familiar twist in his core.

  “Are you real?” she asked in a raspy whisper.

  “Not until you pass from this world,” he said quietly. In the reflection of her eyes, he saw the blackness start spreading around his own.

  Feeling around the woman’s pockets, Cole found what he was searching for. He pulled out her cell phone and after a minute, figured out how to dial a number.

  “911, what is your emergency?” a man asked on the other line.

  “There’s been a fire at 2119 County Road. Send an ambulance.” And Cole hung up the phone.

  “Thank you,” the woman said, too eerily calm for what she had just gone through. Maybe it was the smoke inhalation.

  “If only it was going to be enough,” Cole whispered as he wrapped his coat tighter around her. “I will make sure your judgment is as easy as possible.”

  “What?” she started to ask before she started coughing violently. Her face scrunched up in pain and agony.

  Cole straightened, his eyes never leaving her pained face. “I truly am sorry. Something that I am not very often.”

  Before he could let guilt fully form, Cole let himself be pulled to the world she would soon be joining.

  "Midway upon the journey of our life,

  I found myself within a forest dark,

  For the straight foreward pathway had been lost."

  -Canto I, Inferno, Dante

  The score was even. In this game where the other team wasn’t even aware it was playing, Cole had settled the score. The game was about to end and Jeremiah was going to learn just how many points Cole had beaten him by.

  The final straw had been when Jeremiah dared try to murder Jessica at her own wedding.

  Even with Cole’s twisted side he knew Jessica deserved that day, after all he and his kind had put her through.

  And so Cole had taken the one thing in this life Jeremiah still cared about.

  Feeling the familiar pull within him, Cole knew it was almost time. The council was being called for trial.

  Everyone’s time had run out.

  Settling into his seat, an evil smile curled on Cole’s face. As Jeremiah settled next to him, Cole felt the stir of victory grow within his chest. A man was brought to stand before them, his name read.

  Cole heard Jeremiah half gasp, half choke.

  “Grandpa?” Jeremiah whispered so quietly only Cole could hear him.

  The old man stood on the catwalk, his face covered, his hands bound. The old man from the rest home.

  “Please,” he started to cry. “It wasn’t time. I told them there was something wrong with my medication. I didn’t… I didn’t get to say good-bye.”

  But it was too late for reasoning. The man was dead.

  The leader of the exalted started the trial and soon the deeds of this man’s life were being rattled off.

  Jeremiah squirmed in his seat, his fingers threatening to crush the stones beneath his hands.

  There was nothing quite like the satisfaction of revenge.

  Grandpa was soon tried and unlike his posterity, was granted blue eyes and escorted to the above.

  Jeremiah sat very still with two of his fingers pressed to his lips as they waited for the next poor soul to be brought before them.

  The next man was brought before the council. Cole couldn’t help the glee that shone in his eyes.

  His timing had been perfect.

  “Uncle Harold?” Jeremiah breathed, disbelief filling his voice.

  Uncle Harold wasn’t so lucky as Grandpa.

  With Jeremiah still reeling in his seat, Cole leapt from his own and accepted the branding iron.

  Never before had a branding felt so satisfying as he pressed the hot metal into Uncle Harold’s neck. The man screamed, begging for mercy. His fingers clawed at the stones beneath him. As Cole pulled the iron away, the man collapsed onto the ground.

  As his followers around him leapt to the catwalk to drag Harold to the below, Cole turned to Jeremiah, meeting his eyes.

  The look of realization started growing in Jeremiah’s face.

  Once the walkway cleared, Cole returned the iron and flew back to his seat.

  Jeremiah didn’t say a word, just stared at the stones of the catwalk. Cole sat silently, relishing in the sweet feeling of justice.

  Harold was followed by close friend Tom, followed by former co-worker Di. Followed by second-cousin Catherine.

  “What have you done?” Jeremiah finally breathed, his voice sounding on the verge of cracking. Cole smiled when he observed Jeremiah’s quaking hands.

  “I warned you,” Cole said calmly as he watched the next person being escorted to stand before the council. “You should have left her alone.”

  “And this is your revenge?” Jeremiah’s voice did finally crack. A small whimper escaped his throat when he looked at the woman before them.

  Even with her face covered, there was no mistaking this was the woman Cole had let burn for just a bit too long in the fire.

  Jeremiah’s daughter.

  “You didn’t,” Jeremiah barely managed to make his voice work.

  “I did,” Cole said, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat.

  “You’ve taken them all,” he said. “Everyone I cared about.”

  “Do you understand what regret feels like now, my brother?” Cole said quietly. All of his insides felt very still as this woman’s life started to be read.

  Jeremiah didn’t respond.

  All the more regret filled Cole, accompanied by surprise, as this woman’s deeds were read aloud.

  He wasn’t expecting to have to brand her.

  Everything within him felt heavy as he gave a beat of his wings and landed on the walkway besides her. Accepting the branding iron, Cole turned toward the woman. As if on instinct, she shrank to her hands and knees, letting her blond hair fall from her neck.

  He’d never felt anything but glee and satisfaction before when he branded someone. But then he felt only dead.

  She screamed. They always screamed. Taking a quivering breath, Cole pulled the iron from her skin and threw it out into the air, where it turned over for just a moment, and then fell to the below.

  Taking one of her hands in his, Cole helped her to her feet. Daring further wrath from those around him, he pinched the white fabric between two of his fingers and pulled the sack from her head.

  “You,” she breathed.

  Cole stilled as his eyes met hers, green quickly fading to black.

  “I didn’t think you were real,” she breathed. Her entire body shook from pain and fear.

  “All too real now, I’m afraid,” he said simply. He then turned and took his position again.

  Cole didn’t even care about all the hard and confused expressions his fellow leaders gave him when he returned. There was a pause for just a moment, everyone debating if this was the time to rebuke Cole for his continuing erratic behavior.

  “Cambria Blake,” the blue-eyed leader finally spoke, moving on. “Judgment has been placed.”

  Cole squeezed his eyes as the masses leapt at this woman. He tried not to wonder if, had he not taken her before it was her time, if she might have turned the scrolls of her life around.

  Jeremiah sat very still next to Cole, as still as the stone he sat on.

  “I won’t bother her again,” he finally said as the council started to leave. “It seems you deserve your position after all.”

  And then Jeremiah jumped into the below.

/>   Cole closed his eyes again. He heard the whispers, felt the eyes flickering to his face. It was only guessing, but for the most part those guesses were correct.

  And just like that, Cole had gained all respect back. He was a man to be feared again, a man none of them would challenge.

  Cole was tempted to go below and seek out Cambria, thought about forming some kind of apology. But he would wait until she had reunited with her father.

  Finally Cole thought about Jeremiah’s promise. He no longer had to worry about his brother harming Jessica, about him exposing Jessica for what she had become. He didn’t have to avenge her any longer.

  But he knew he hadn’t seen the last of her. Everything within him told him that somehow he was going to continue helping her.

  Cole was not a good man, hadn’t been in centuries. But there was something about Jessica. Something only she was able to dig out inside of him. Jessica… believed in him almost. But Cole was in his position for a reason. He wanted people to suffer generally. He enjoyed giving people what was coming to them.

  But why did he want to help her? And help her to be with another man?

  He resented her for making him question himself.

  He hardly knew who he was anymore.

  But here await me,

  and comfort thy dejected spirit and feed on good hope,

  for I will not leave thee in the nether world.

  - Canto VIII, Inferno, Dante

  Talk flew around the afterlife like gnats in the air. You couldn’t move around without walking into some of it and breathing it in, causing you to choke.

  Already a new exalted leader was being talked about. And Cole had heard the whispers about another.

  Things were going to get complicated, very fast.

  Cole was relieved when he felt the pull for a trial. He needed a distraction. He didn’t want to be thinking about helping Jessica anymore right then.

  Cole settled into his seat, only feeling slightly tense as Jeremiah settled into his. They hadn’t uttered a single word to each other since Jeremiah found out Cole had eliminated much of his family from the world of the living.

  “Sally Thomas,” Cole’s head jerked up as the trial started. “The deeds of your life have been accounted for and judgment will be passed. Your actions must be made known.”

  Had he been paying attention, Cole might have recognized the tiny frame, the tense shoulders. Even though her face was covered, he should have known her. He had tried to convince her to kill herself once. And then tried to return and finish the job when she failed.

  Sal stood there, her hands trembling where they were bound before her. She whimpered quietly, words sounding like “what’s happening” stumbling out of her mouth.

  Jessica was going to be devastated.

  She didn’t need one more horrible thing going on right now. She was already going to be losing the person who meant the most to her. She didn’t need to be losing the person who meant second most.

  Cole shook his head in frustration.

  Why did he care?

  Thousands of his brethren flooded the cylinder and Sal’s cries increased.

  “Sally Thomas, your deeds will now be revealed,” Richard continued. Unraveling the scrolls of Sal’s life, it was immediately obvious where she was going.

  Mixes of boredom and interest piqued as the acts of her life were read. Every one of the condemned started zoning everything out, nothing of interest having taken place in her life. The list they got excited by was very short.

  All the more whispers started going around the cylinder as Sal’s good deeds were read. People who lead lives as good as Sal’s didn’t come around very often. Even if she hadn’t really had any other choice when she was alive.

  Judgment started being passed.

  “Up,” started the blue-eyed leader.

  “Up,” sentenced the next.

  “Up,” agreed the rest of their kind.

  So did every one of the rest of them.

  Richard smiled as he moved on. “Sally Thomas, judgment has been placed.”

  A scream ripped from her throat as a set of wings sprung from her back. She collapsed onto her hands and knees, the white sack sliding from her head as it hung between her shoulders.

  A few exalted fluttered down to the walkway, lifting underneath Sal’s arms, helping the woman to her feet. Their whispers of calm and assurance were enough to make Cole’s stomach churn.

  How could they stand being so… pure?

  The cylinder started to buzz with talk again, excitement building in the tone of the masses.

  “Sally Thomas,” the exalted leader began again. “It seems you are being put up for election. The masses are being heard. Do you understand what has happened to you?”

  Sal finally looked up again. Her eyes hesitated on Cole’s face for a brief moment, her face blanching. But then her eyes slid to meet her leader. “I’ve died,” she said, her voice shaking. “I understand that much.”

  “And you understand judgment?” he asked in a reassuring voice.

  Sal nodded.

  “Those around you are calling for a vote. The leadership here shifts, changes. People who lived a life like yours don’t come around very often. Will you accept this position should the vote be granted?”

  “I…” she stuttered, turning to look at these who surrounded her. “I don’t know.”

  “You’ll know soon enough,” he said. “All those in favor of Sally Thomas joining the exalted council?”

  The afterlife rumbled with replies of “I.”

  “All those opposed?”

  A few replies fell flat against the hot stones.

  “Just like that?” one of the exalted leaders hissed. Cole felt a twitch of a smile curl in the corner of his lips. “You would replace me just like that? When she isn’t even sure if she wants this?”

  “We will let her observe,” the leader said, rubbing his hand over his bearded chin. “She can watch and learn what we do. Should she decide to decline, your position will be reconsidered.”

  Seeing that this council and voting was coming to an end, more of the blue-eyed’s flocked around Sal, preparing to escort her to the above.

  “Thank you,” Sal managed to say. Once more her eyes flicked to Cole’s face. He simply gave her a single nod before being taken to a place he could never go.

  Being in the afterlife these days felt like standing on shifting sand.

  “Necessity brings him here, not pleasure.”

  - Canto XII, Inferno, Dante

  The seats of the changing council were all anyone could talk about. Deliberation seemed to be the only language the dead could use anymore. Sal’s position on the council seemed more and more sure. Cole’s remained to be seen.

  But there was one person everyone in the afterlife seemed set on.

  The one angel who wasn’t there, yet was supposed to be.

  Alex was all everyone could talk about. Most were anxious to have him pulled back, for him to return to their world and assume the position wanted of him. Yet Cole heard hushed whispers. Whispers about proxies and debts.

  He didn’t understand that part.

  But he did understand one thing. Alex was going back to his world. Soon.

  Cole felt the pull but didn’t have to move. He was already seated. He wasn’t the most active being those days.

  It wasn’t always easy to recognize a proxy. Most people who came into the cylinder were terrified. Most times the proxies were that way too. But there were times when one would seem just a tad too calm, knew just a little too well where exactly to stand.

  And he recognized that curved form. He’d let his lips trail from that shoulder up to that hidden neck. He’d traced those legs with his fingertips, even if it wasn’t the body he’d wanted, it was body he could still appreciate.

  He’d invaded that head before.

  But he also knew what Emily had done in her past, that she hadn’t been allowed to return to his world because of
it. Yet here she was again.

  Interesting.

  Seeing that none of the other council noticed anything different about “Morgan Denner” before them, Cole turned his eyes to the walls around them.

  Cormack wasn’t hard to spot among the masses. He sat with his legs hanging over the edge of the staircase, his head inclined forward, his burning blue eyes both sad and hopeful at the same time.

  What a fool. Falling in love with a girl from the world of the living.

  Cole chuckled at his hypocrisy silently. They were both fools.

  The scrolls of Morgan’s life were read, Cole didn’t want to feel bad for what he knew was coming in a few moments.

  “Down,” the exalted sentenced.

  “Down,” his fellow men condemned.

  Cole hesitated for a moment. Emily’s head had turned in his direction. He sensed the fear she felt yet there was something bordering on confidence coming off of her.

  “Down,” he finally breathed.

  The heckles and cries erupted throughout the cylinder. Trying not to feel anything, Cole joined Emily on the catwalk and accepted the branding iron. Emily dutifully fell to her hands and knees, exposing the back of her neck.

  “Welcome back,” Cole whispered so quietly only Emily could hear.

  Her screams echoed off the walls as he sank the red hot iron into the back of her neck.

  “...Let us descend into the blind world.”

  - Canto IV, Inferno, Dante

  “You’re different than I thought you would be.”

  Cole turned where he was seated along the walkway and saw Cambria ascending toward him, her glorious wings trailing behind her. He didn’t say anything as he watched her sit just two stairs below him.

  “I expected you to be more… bad,” she said as she stared down into the flames with him.

  Cole gave an empty chuckle, his eyes never lifting. “Apparently you’ve forgotten what I did to you.”

  “Trust me, I haven’t forgotten,” she said with a laugh. It reminded him of the bells his mother put out on Christmas. “There’s no way of forgetting death in this place.”