CHAPTER 8 - Angels and Demons
I wanna start off with a quick note. This is a story; fiction. This may not be an accurate depiction of your beliefs or any religious beliefs. IT ISN'T SUPPOSED TO BE! If you have any problems with a different interpretation of Heaven and Hell that differs from the norm or your own, DON'T READ THIS BOOK. It's not for you. Anyways, with that out of the way… you have been warned.
I look around the house uncomfortably, as I've haven't been inside someone else's house for years. His house is in great condition though, almost untouched. I walk around,
and take in the house; mapping the layout in my head.
While walking, Dyre tells me about different about the house. He seems tense, almost anxious about my presence. Even so, he explains the layout of the house. Where the kitchen is, where the bathrooms are, all those types of things. He also tells me not to go into his room, which is to be expected.
We spent hours just walking around and standing in silence. Occasionally I would ask a question, then he would answer. But other than that, we ended up standing around quite a bit until he tells me my room is upstairs and to the left. I quickly start walking upstairs to go see it. When I go in, I am pleasantly surprised. It's far nicer than anything I've had in years. The urge to hug takes my mind, and I rush over to the bed and collapse into it. I haven't felt a bed this nice in a while.
"Thank you," I say to Dyre.
He responds with "Don't thank me yet. I have something I need to tell you."
I look at him, fear creeping into my consciousness, threatening to bring me to panic.
He looks at me, and recognizes my fear saying, "Hey, it's not bad. I just need to tell you about the whole Heaven and Hell deal."
I sigh, "I told you, I already know. But what is real is probably different, so do tell."
Dyre nods and begins speaking.
"There are three places you can go when you die the most well known being, heaven or hell; that much is obvious. All those sent to Hell are tortured for all eternity or are turned into imp slaves. Those who go to Heaven either are to live out their afterlife in Heaven, or become a lesser angle and serve it. Are you still with me?" He says.
I nod and he continues.
"Those who aren't for either are sent here, a kind of purgatory if you will. It looks, acts, and functions like Earth, but is ever expansive. All spirits not sent to this place can come and go from here as they wish. Same goes with demons and angels, they can come and go from here as they want. Many come here because of it's incredible size or as a way to get away," he says, looking at me.
"What about you?" I ask.
"Privacy," he responds. and continues his story, "Heaven and hell are chosen by their respective leaders, God and Satan. Both places have a set of rolls. For Heaven, I believe it's an angel king or queen, the supreme ruler chosen by God and who enforces his will. These angel rulers are dedicated by a mark on their body, symbolizing that they have been chosen. Then you have the Archangels, the guards or the angel king or queen and the ones who help carry out their rulers will. Then there are the angel-born, all angle-born are born or created in Heaven. And lastly, what some humans become, angels. They are the lowest or the angel hierarchy, the workers or servers. Did you get all of that? Do you have any questions so far?" He asks.
"What does the mark look like?" I ask, as curiosity makes the best of me.
"I'll show you later, anything else?" He asks, seeming much more comfortable than earlier.
"Anyways," he starts, "Now for the hierarchy of Hell. Much like Heaven, it consists of three main layers, but has one extra. The ruling class are the demon kings and queens. These are also chosen by Satan, and marked somewhere on their body. These kings or queens then carry out the will of Satan, in a scarily similar fashion to Heaven. These chosen are protected by the demon guard, and the demon guard is a group of the most powerful demons other than the ruler themself. Then you have all other demons, the servants of the king or queen. And the last level, the one Heaven doesn't have, are the demonic. The demonic are creatures created in Hell like imps, or succubi. That's the basics of the way the afterlife works, any questions? I have some more to say."
I just stare at him, infatuated by the words coming from his mouth. I nod my head and he just stares at me. Then I realize what he said.
"Oh, no. I don't have any questions, please keep going," I say.
Dyre nods and continues talking, saying "Okay then. Ahem, a special thing in Hell is that the leader doesn't always have to be chosen. If another demon defeats the current ruler, they have the choice to then take the throne. As of right now that is what has happened. Except that the marked one simply didn't want to rule," he pauses.
"Who were they?" I ask, curious. Could they be the one who hired Dyre to kill me?
"I don't know," he says in an eerily monotone voice.
"Um, okay. Why didn't he want to be the ruler?" I ask, darling to look for more answers.
"I don't know," he responds again in the same unsettling way.
"Okay, I'm sorry. Keep going," I say quietly.
He takes a deep breath and says "Yeah. So, as I was saying. You can also kill the demon king or queen and take their place. If you are strong enough, no one will question you. In Heaven, this is considered treason. It is against the will of God to deny a marked their right to the throne. Well, to them at least. But, under the rare circumstance the chosen is unable to rule, the most recent ruler is to appoint a successor. Of course, they must also be accepted by the rest of Heaven, but if they are deemed worthy, they may rule."
Dyre stops talking and I look at him. Should I say something? Maybe ask to see the symbol again…
"Thank you," I end up saying.
He gives me a shocked look and then shrugs. "I thought you should know considering your going to be staying with me until I can sort things out," Dyre says.
"Why don't you just kill me?" I consider asking. Then I think about it. He has his reasons, and if he wanted to tell me he would.
A small, gross looking creature appears in a small puff of smoke beside Dyre. It has reddish skin and pointy ears, and is adorned with metal earrings and a nose ring. It has a human-ish shape, but much smaller. The creature is no bigger than a toddler, but somehow grosser than one.
It says something to Dyre that I don't understand, then it vanishes just as it came. In a puff of black smoke. It seems like it didn't even notice me.
"I'm going to go out for a sec, use this if you are in danger," he says, handing me a small crystal.
"How do I use it?" I ask.
"Break it, tossing it on the ground is the best way in my experience. Anyways, I need to go, and in the meantime, get some sleep," Dyre says.
He then vanished into a black bit in the ground, leaving no trace he was ever in the room.
"I should have asked where he was going," I think with a sigh. Guess I'm on my own now.
I shove the crystal in my pant pocket and I peek out the window. It's dark out, but I'm not tired.
I start to wander around the house again; that empty feeling growing in my head. The crawling numbness that corrupts your mind. I shake my head, and start to walk faster.
As I walk around, I find myself in the living room. It's a nice living room, with a couch, a seat, TV, and two side tables on each side of the couch. I look at the TV and wonder how it works.
"Isn't this purgatory or something? How is there electricity wait, how is there service?" I think out loud.
Well Dyre did say it is like Earth. I guess that means it mimics service and stuff like that too.
I shrug and sit down on the couch, but quickly get back up. A sudden flashback to Mr. King attacking me in the living room fills my mind. I quickly dissolve into panic and begin running.
"How did he get here?" I think as I flee from my own father.
I frantically rush upstairs and charge into the closest room, slamming the door behind me with a loud bang. I press my body against the door, hoping to keep it shut. I hear him bang on the wall and demand that I let him in.
I begin to sob as I keep the door pushed shut.
"I'm sorry!" I weep over and over again.
Until he stops. Every sound ceases. The house goes silent except for my quiet cries as I lean against the door. Maybe I should go to bed.