"Beelzebub's Redemption"- Chapter 1
Here I stand, at the gates of Heaven. It's been so long since I've been home; not since that dark day, "the Great Fall" they call it.
My brother Lucifer and I had always been close. I admired Michael from the beginning, he was always powerful and brave and charming and the closest to our Father, but that was intimidating. It was Lucifer who always acknowledged me. He kept me close and made me feel important, so I followed him. I was dependent, I was weak; the day of the war I felt obligated to fight alongside him. Through thick and thin, he was my brother.
When Michael banished us to Hell, I thought it was the end for us. I craved his approval so badly; he was my hero and I let him down. I was too ashamed. Then I became resentful towards Lucifer; he led me into disaster. He pulled us out of our home when I needed it most of all. Of course he is not all to blame, I was able to refuse, I could have listened to our Father, I could have been grateful for His love, but I threw it away for a shallow fraternity.
Lucifer knew I had doubts in his abilities when we fell. He could tell that I instantly wanted to repent, but he gave us a speech, oh that speech. It was so eloquent and persuasive, it reminded us why we all followed him. But afterwards I still felt so empty. Lucifer knew he was losing me. He kindly explained the importance of brotherhood and the pain I would face if I had any contradictory thoughts. Needless to say, I kept my doubts and fears to myself, but that couldn't last forever.
I missed Heaven: the light, the love, the Lord. I missed my Father and Michael. Hell was, well, Hell. I was miserable. Not a day went by that I didn't want to go back to Heaven and repent, but I was under Lucifer's control. I was his puppet; he sent me to Earth often to corrupt the minds of humans. It was despicable, but I did it. Visits to Earth were pleasant when I wasn't on duty. I would sit in cafes all around the world at different times in human history and people-watch. But there was one day when my mundane and painful existence completely changed; Michael paid me a visit.
It was sometime in the fall in 1955, I was sitting in an independent coffee shop in Portland, Oregon, and a familiar face sauntered in. He walked, subtly glowing. Yes, he, like myself, changed form into a human, but I could still recognize his presence. He ordered a coffee then came to my table. We sat and smiled at each other for a full minute before he first spoke. He told me that our Father had sent him there to make amends and that he knew what my heart was yearning for. I told him that fear was my new master and that I couldn't go back to Heaven as long as Lucifer was reigning in Hell; he ruled out of hate and spite while Father ruled out of love and forgiveness. Michael said that I was being ridiculous and that Father was all-powerful and that he could protect me if Lucifer were to attack me. I told him that I knew He could, but wondered if He would.
Time passed, but no word from Michael until another meeting in the spring of 1985. I was at a Starbucks in Toronto, Canada when I saw him again. He ordered a latte then sat with me; this gathering seemed more genuine. He told me how his wife and two children were. We exhausted every subject before he gave me the news that he didn't want to give me and I didn't want to hear. He explained how Father decided that I could most certainly come back to Heaven and be an angel again, but I must learn a lesson of trust: trust in Him. Michael held his breath then whispered: "There's got to be another war." I literally fell out of my seat.
"No, no, no. Why would He encourage that?"
"You have to stand up to Lucifer, have faith that Father will take care of the rest. And in the process, we can redeem more of the fallen angels that are too scared to come back."
"But why can't they be the ones to stand up to Lucifer? Why does it have to be me? Surely Father was mistaken by thinking that I could take on Lucifer and that everyone else would just blindly follow me."
"Father is never mistaken." Michael scolded me. He then left.
I went back to Hell and instantly felt heavy. My heart ached when I knocked on the door to Lucifer's room in our palace. He opened the door, but I couldn't speak. He stared at me confused, and I just about burst into tears. I didn't see him as a tyrant, I saw him as my brother, the one who made me feel important when I thought no one cared. I couldn't wage war against him. I just couldn't. That is, until that bold day in the winter of 2015. That was when it all changed. It was when brother turned on brother, when both chaos ensued and peace was restored.