Introduction

People have contrary opinions respecting death. But not dying, I mean killing.

Some ones say that it is a sin and you'll go to hell for it. I always believed in that.

Some others say that it doesn't matter what you did, you'll be forgiven if it was for a good purpose. I find that kind of logical.

And others say that when killing you get such a pleasurable and exciting feeling….okay, that's psychotic.

But either feeling or punishment you get, what people usually fail to mention is that you also get a big feeling: guilt.

I felt guilty.

It hadn't been my fault…well, not entirely my fault, but I felt as if I may go to hell at any minute. I felt so much bloody guilt. That poor guy…

He had a life ahead of him, maybe he was married, maybe he was a father, maybe…right, ignore me, I'm being way too dramatic. He was just a kid. But he surely had a family, he surely had friends or loved people and due to my negligence, to an apparently simple disregard now it was all over for him.

It wasn't like me to grief over a person that I didn't even know. It wasn't like me to grief over any person at all. When my grandfather died when I was just a little boy my mother said I didn't cry. When my father died later on I was on seventh grade, and I didn't cry either. And when my brothers died, a few years before my own death, I didn't cry. And then the time when my rabbit….well, you get it, I don't cry.

But all those deaths hadn't been my fault. This one, on a way, was.

I woke up one Wednesday morning. After bathing and dressing I flew to "The Hall". No, it's not that I forgot its name, that's its name, "The Hall".

You'll see, I'm a Seraph. Meaning, I'm God's assistant. He doesn't like that name though. He prefers to call us "his well meant, musically blessed, highly loyal and faithful servants". The musical thing I can explain later. Thing is, we serve God directly, since we're the highest rank. We wander his throne in "The Hall" and take his orders to the rest of the heaven, regulating everything that happens and checking it all goes as he wants.

That day, one of my partners and I were on guard duty at the Bronze Gates, where all the newcomers stand in long lines to fill the paperwork in order to pass. Once they finish, they are led to the Silver Gates, where they are given their robes and schedules, and finally to the Golden Gates, where they can step into heaven at last.

Newcomers went and came, staff ran searching for more forms, instructors led numerous groups through the Gates…the job was a bloody waste of time, but it also was a direct order from his holy Lord, so not much could be done.

I stood there, with just a pair of my wings spread (us seraphim have three pairs of wings), my spear and my golden helmet, just as my partner Bob. We both were at each side of the Gates and newcomers gave us looks of awe when they passed by. I was falling asleep when a blond head caught my attention. I raised my own head and elevated a bit from the floor (or should I say clouds?). Then I saw him.

That twirled curl, that childish face, those violet eyes. It was him. I couldn't see him very clearly because of all the people around, but I was sure it was him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Bob asked next to me.

"I, h-he, nothing" I returned to the floor (or clouds…whatever! You bloody get it) and sighed.

Just then an angel landed in front of us and told us our turn was over. We exhaled and stretched. My arms hurt like hell (yeah, don't tell I said that). We turned around and flew inside, right when the seraphim of the next turn came. We had to go to "The Hall" with God and pass our cards for the lector before being able to leave for the compound.

After a long day I only wanted to crash on my bed and sleep, but I got a call from Mr. Clousier, the director of my compound, saying that he wanted to see me in his office as soon as possible. Reluctantly, I nodded to the angel that had given me the message and walked down the hallway to the office.

Mr. Clousier, an old seraph that had retired centuries ago, was sitting behind his desk, with his brown robe (color the teachers and directors wore along with the designated sash) and looking at me with attentive black eyes while I opened the door of the office.

"Good afternoon" I greeted.

"Good afternoon Mr. Kirkland, take a seat" he gestured to the empty chair in front of the desk. I sat down and he adjusted his glasses.

"As you may know" he started saying "Today we got a lot of newcomers." Of course I knew. I spent all the bloody day watching them.

But I just shrugged and said "Yes."

He didn't reply. Instead, from the huge pile of folders behind him he took a thin one and tossed it to me. I caught it in midair and opened it. I almost choked.

There he was. It was his expedient and on the first page was a picture of him. The paper read:

Name: Matthew Williams

Death age: 17

Nationality: Canadian

Concept: Deceased on Wednesday, March 21st, outside Ottawa, Canada at the 8: 36 hrs.

Check-in: Same day at the 18:41 hrs.

I kept reading until I reached the part that made me feel a lump down my throat.

Death cause: Unnatural

Concept: Arrow at the heart

I gulped and looked at Mr. Clousier, who was still staring at me behind his big glasses. However, I managed a poker face and asked:

"Why do you give me this?"

"It's your newcomer" he said "You must show him the place and make sure he knows his way around." My eyes widened.

"B-but..."

"No buts!" he snapped, and then leaned forward on his chair "Mr. Kirkland, don't think I don't know about your little battle accident. His holy Lord is aware of the situation as well. But as the loving, merciful Lord he is, he has decided to forgive your unintentional sin and let you be given another chance. I am giving you that chance" he put a finger on the guy's picture.

"B-but…" I tried to argue but he cut me off again.

"The least you can do for the boy is helping him out" he sentenced and went back to his papers, making clear the conversation was ended. I just sat there, watching his picture. Now what?

"Compound K, room 4703, oh and leave that here" he took the expedient off my hands and put it back on the pile. I sighed and stood, walking for the door when his voice stopped me.

"And one more thing" he said. I turned to face him and he threw me a paper. I looked at it and noticed it was from the expedient.

Physical health: In order

Mental state: Partial D12. Total A16

"Don't try to apologize…and close the door."

I walked along the hallways of compound K. I didn't know how to act before him, just seeing him made me want to jump from the compound's roof without spreading my wings, but doing that would just get me a painful fall…and a bad headache.

I remembered the words on the paper.

Partial D12; his brain was slightly affected by the Gates' light, a common problem actually. Note: get him a robe with hood.

Total A16; slight trauma, he had no clue of his past.

I didn't know whether to be happy or worried for that.

If he didn't remember anything, then he wouldn't know I indirectly caused his death. Problem was, he didn't show any AX16 (Extreme trauma. In case you're wondering, yes, it's happened) so he would remember someday.

Sighing I got into the storage room of the compound and took one of the boxes on the shelves. I put it in my robe's pockets and resumed my way.

Fourth floor, room 4703. Here it is, I said to myself while standing in front of a wooden door. I inhaled and exhaled, relaxed my shoulders and knocked on the door. Soon, he opened. I couldn't help frowning at the fact that he was taller than me, but he looked like a huge kid, with his innocent face and his shy expression. It only made me feel worst, but despite of it I just stared at him.

"You're new right?" I asked in the most casual way possible, which probably wasn't much.

"Um…ye-"

"Of course you are, I haven't seen you around and I know everyone" I continued. He looked like he was going to say something, but apparently thought it better and stayed quiet. "I'm going to show you around, any questions?"

"Yes, how do you measure time?" he asked, innocently. But it makes me sigh, resisting the urge of saying something.

"Of all the bloody things you could've asked, you ask about time…" I was speaking to myself, but it seemed to come out loud.

So yeah, I spent the next 10 minutes or so answering his bloody questions (Yeah, he needed theory) before taking him around the compound. I showed him the basic places of the building: the stairs, the cafeteria, the exit door. Along the way he asked why he felt pain or hunger if he was supposed to be a soul. Yeah, he really needed theory. I tried to explain myself the best I could, but then I saw his puzzled expression and gave up on the subject.

After showing him the place where he was to take the wagon to school I made go inside again. I took the box out of my robe and opened it, revealing a watch.

"All the angels must have one" I said, putting it around his wrist. I almost whined. He looked so much like a child it made me feel miserable. But then I remembered Mr. Clousier's words. The least you can do for the boy is help him out. If helping him out made me feel somewhat better, then that I would do.

I dropped him at the door of his room and walked away, back to my compound. When I got into my room I realized I hadn't been there in the whole day, so I just removed my sandals and got under the covers, hoping to get some sleep for the bloody hard day I had ahead.