Afterlife: A Fall of Angels Novelette (3 page)

“
And just as he who, with exhausted breath,

having
escaped from the sea to shore,

turns
to the perilous waters and gazes.”

- Canto I, Inferno, Dante

She just wouldn’t leave.

First she had come back with Jeremiah.  That time may not have been her fault but it did make Cole realize that Jane had been right.  Jessica caused fear to course through his blood.  He’d been terrified when she materialized in his world.

And then she came to him in the In Between again.  Cole had told her to come, but a part of him had hoped that she wouldn’t figure it out.  Every second with her was another minute he couldn’t breathe.

Finally she had put herself back in the afterlife and begged him not to take her precious Alex.  He marveled at how he was able to sense her presence so strongly.  She hadn’t even called to him when she arrived, yet he felt her, sure as a lighthouse shines on danger in the water.

He just couldn’t be rid of her.

Cole wouldn’t admit that he didn’t really want to be rid of Jessica.

He needed something to distract himself, before he went mad.  And he had a score to settle.

Jeremiah was one visit to the world of the living ahead of him.

Checking to make sure no one was watching, Cole curled his wings around his body and leapt off the catwalk.

The wrench in his gut was enough to cripple Cole to his knees with a loud cry. 
Everything inside of him shredded and grated.
  Everything inside of him wanted to disappear.

Looking up, Cole tried to orient himself.  He lay in a grass field, clothed in the same black clothes and trench coat he had stolen on his last visit.  Forcing the pain into one of Cole’s many dark
corners,
he pushed himself up onto his feet.

Windows glowed bright with soft yellow light not far from where he stood in the dark night.  From the outside it looked like the perfectly charming farm house he’d seen on the covers of magazines at the grocery store.

But Cole could feel him inside, and in a few hours that perfect farm house would be thrown into chaos.

Cole moved soundlessly through the tall grass toward the house.  The rise of anticipation and dark inside of him was more powerful than any modern drug.

There was something damningly exhilarating about ending a human life.

Disappearing from human eye, Cole silently let himself in through a side door.

The house inside did not match the house outside.

The kitchen Cole entered into was cluttered with dirty dishes and overflowing garbage.  The floor was streaked with who knew what.  Fruit flies clustered on some kind of unidentifiable food on the counter.

The entire space reeked of alcohol.

Stepping soundlessly through the kitchen, Cole wandered inside.  Following his keen ears, he walked into an equally disgusting living room.

Among the filth sat an overweight, balding, dirty man.  He stared emptily at the television, his eyes heavy and droopy.  A brown glass bottle hung loosely in one of his pudgy hands.  Cole could smell the alcohol already coming out of his very pores.

Almost disappointed at the lack of challenge, Cole walked back into the kitchen and opened the cupboard under the sink.  Picking something that looked potent and
colorful,
he then went to the greasy-finger smudged refrigerator and pulled out another beer.

Twisting the top off, Cole poured a third of the contents into the sink, then topped the bottle off with his chosen poison.  He dropped in a few pills he found in a cluttered cupboard for good measure.

Casually reentering the living room, Cole focused his thoughts.  The man didn’t even stir as Cole invaded his head.

“Have another, my friend,” Cole said, extending the bottle to the man.  He didn’t even look up as he accepted and took a long swig.

He coughed violently as the toxins burned his esophagus but didn’t tear his eyes from the screen.

Feeling the very skin he lived in tighten around him, Cole glanced down at his left hand.  His veins were already straining out against his flesh.  He watched the black of death slowly stain his skin.

Time was up.

“See you soon,” Cole said, patting the fat man on the shoulder.  He just grunted as Cole walked back toward the door.

Cole barely made it outside before he collapsed onto his hands and knees.  The breath caught in his throat.  Everything felt crushed inside of him.  Cole eagerly gave into the pull of death.

“
I came into a place void of all light,

which
bellows like the sea in tempest,

when
it is combated by warring winds.”

- Canto V, Inferno, Dante

Skin had a beautiful way of yielding to Cole’s branding iron.  It softened, gave into the red-hot metal.  Then it smoked.  Cole left a lasting impression on a great number of the residents of the afterlife.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Cole inhaled the man’s terror.  It was an intoxicating thing.  The man on his hands and knees before Cole whimpered, begging for forgiveness.

But there was no forgiveness for what this man had done.

The condemned sprung from the staircase as Cole stepped back.  They heckled, screeched in glee as their hands wrapped around the man’s wrists and ankles.  The man thrashed and fought against them, but you can’t fight where you belong.

With the masses disbursing, Cole prepared to join those he led.

“Brother,” a kind voice said from behind Cole where he stood on the stone walkway.  “May I borrow a moment of your time?”

“Of course, Richard,” Cole said as he turned toward the blue-eyed, white bearded man.  Even Cole, with all of his judgmental and pessimistic ways couldn’t find fault with Richard, the leader of the exalted.

Richard folded his hands in front of him, his expression serious but ever kind.  “Members of the council are concerned.”

“I know what Jeremiah has been saying,” Cole said, his voice cold as a block of ice.  “You must also remember he is a branded man.”

“I understand,” Richard said, his blue eyes searching Cole’s face.  “That is not the cause of our concern however.  You committed a very grievous sin when you abandoned your duties.  You returned to the world of the living and failed to come back, for a very long time.  Some have been saying they believe you have been returning again.”

Cole didn’t say anything as his eyes fell to the stones beneath his bare feet.  He couldn’t lie to such a pure man.

“You understand that you cannot stay there, don’t you?”

“I know that,” Cole said in a defeated, hard voice.  “The pain does not let me forget.”

Cole hadn’t realized Richard had come closer until he felt his hand on Cole’s shoulder.  The fallen man inside of him wanted to jump away from his touch.  He felt filthy next to Richard.

“Why do you cause yourself such torment?” Richard asked in a low voice.

Cole didn’t answer right away.  His eyes remained glued to the ground beneath him.  “I don’t know how to stay away.”

“You must,” Richard said, his voice kind but firm.  “You are letting yourself waste away, chasing after unobtainable fool’s gold.”

“I know that,” Cole said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Be careful, my brother,” Richard said as he let his hand drop from Cole’s shoulder.  “I cannot guarantee you will keep your position if you continue on the path you are walking.”

“I understand,” Cole replied.

With a sad smile, Richard coiled his wings and lifted himself toward the blue skies above.

“
These have no hope of death...

mercy
and justice disdain them.

Let us not speak of them, but do thou look and pass on.”

- Canto III, Inferno, Dante

Lying on his back, Cole stared up through the cylinder at the blue skies above.  His head hung over the edge of the stair he rested on, his shadowed brand touching the hot stones underneath him.  The air sweltered around him, rising in waves up to a place he could never go.

The sound of ruckus laughter disturbed Cole in his woeful self-pity.  There was no peace and solitude in the land of the damned.  Cole tensed as he recognized one of the voices.

“It won’t be much longer,” Jeremiah said to his companion.

“It will be a relief to finally have a worthy leader again,” the other voice responded.

Suddenly their footsteps halted as they came into view of Cole where he lay.  Cole didn’t even lift his head to stare coldly at them.  He wanted nothing more than to rip each of their un-beating hearts clean from their chests and watch the blood drip to the ground.  But he was so tired. 
His entire being felt depleted.

“How was your last trip?” Cole asked Jeremiah, not even bothering to tear his eyes from the blue above him.

Jeremiah did not respond, Cole felt him tense, bracing himself to be attacked again.

“You were never the smartest man in your lifetime, where you Jeremiah?” Cole said evenly.  “I would guess you had a tendency for getting yourself into trouble for making poor choices.”

Still Jeremiah did not say anything.  Cole heard him flex his fingers, balling them into fists.

“This is my final warning, brother,” Cole said, the ice inside of him starting to frost into his voice.  “Leave her alone.  You will regret every time you looked upon her more than you can comprehend.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” Jeremiah finally spoke.  Even though he put malice in his voice, Cole detected the hints of uncertainty.  “You’ve grown soft.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Cole said, a smile curling on his lips.  He felt that satisfied, wonderful feeling in his chest when he thought of the revenge he was about to have.  “You have forgotten what the man who fought his own branding can do.”

“Yet they still managed to sink the iron into the back of your neck,” Jeremiah sneered.

“Which makes me a doubly branded man,” Cole replied.  “Stay away from her, brother.”

“What a stiff you’ve gone after,” Jeremiah said as he and his companion stepped over Cole on their way further down into the cylinder.  “She doesn’t even drink.  What a bore.  I don’t see what your interest in her is.”