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“Yes. The serpent brought the seeds of Hell into this place, man tended it, and here it stays like a festering wound.”
“Would you mind pointing out the scar tissue? I need to get going.”
“What matter is Eden to you? No mortal man or woman may enter.”
“How many mortal men do you get around here? Do you rent the place out for pool parties during spring break?”
The angel doesn’t say anything and his smoldering act is starting to get old. I blow smoke in his face.
“Listen up, Hawkman, I’m going in there even if I have to pluck off all your feathers and stuff you like a teddy bear.”
The angel waves the smoke away. He stretches and rubs the back of his neck. His voice rises to a normal octave and doesn’t echo anymore.
“Listen, man. It’s the end of my shift. I’m really tired and the sun’s giving me a migraine. I can’t let you in, but I don’t want to get into a whole thing about it with you. Can you just hang around and work this out with my replacement?”
“I’m in kind of a hurry.”
“He’ll be here tonight. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“I really can’t wait.”
He sighs.
“Yeah. I figured.”
He manifests his Gladius, his angelic sword of fire, and takes a swing at my head. The attack is slow. Completely for show. Why shouldn’t it be? He’s an angel and I’m just a lost spirit who wandered in from nowhere. I manifest my own Gladius, block his blow, and cut a nice diagonal slice through his chest plate. He falls back, eyes wide.
April Fool, motherfucker.
His Gladius is on the ground, but I’m mad. He made me drop one of my last cigarettes. I move in fast and get my sword under his chin.
“What’s your name?”
“Rizoel./diC;Rizoe201D;
“Well, Rizoel, you know that I could kill you entirely here and now, right? I know fallen angels go to Tartarus when they die, but I’m not clear on what happens to nice angels. Given my natural inclinations, I’d like to slice and dice you just to see where you end up. Lucky for you there’s a little angel that lives in my head and I know he won’t shut up about it if I turn you into chum. So to sum up, this is your lucky day. Understand?”
Rizoel gives me a mininod, making sure not to let the Gladius touch his chin.
“Here’s the deal. You can walk away but you have to do something for me. What do you think? You ready to come on down off your high-and-mighty for a second and make a deal?”
“I don’t seem to have a choice.”
“Sure you do. But one of them isn’t pretty.”
The angel nods.
“All right.”
I let my Gladius go out. The angel tries to stand, but he’s favoring the side where I slashed him. I take his other arm and help him up.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” he says. “The nephilim. The monster who kills monsters.”
“I’ll give you an autograph, but if it shows up on eBay, I’m going to be mad.”
“You are an Abomination and will not pass through these holy gates.”
I should have seen that coming. Never trust an angel.
