Redemption (Stand-Alone, Spin-Off to Reaper Series), page 10
Isaiah blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond. “Brother?” was what he managed to reply with. “Well, uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Isaiah held out his hand to shake Gabriel’s, but Gabriel simply continued to glare at him, ignoring Isaiah’s outstretched hand. As the discomfort of the situation stretched on, Isaiah cleared his throat nervously and slowly lowered his hand to his side.
“Why are you here, Gabriel?” Eve demanded. “If Father said to let this happen, why show up now?”
“Because I wanted to try and talk some sense into you!” Gabriel snapped. “I know you think you are helping, that this will bring humanity some sort of peace or closure, but it won’t! It will only bring them more questions. You think they’ll be satisfied with an explanation of what happened? Why Earth was invaded? No. Humanity is dangerously curious, Eve, you know this. You give them one piece of information, and suddenly they’ll demand more. They feed on knowledge and information like it was apples and honey. And if you only give them a small amount, they’ll be driven into a frenzy. Like sharks that smell blood in the water and cannot find the source. Please, Eve, do not do this.”
For a moment, Eve felt unsure. She wanted to help, to clear up some of the confusion about the Global Revelation, but at the same time, she felt nervous. Afraid of what might happen. She had assumed it was just because of what had happened with Javan so many years ago, but was that really all there was to it? Perhaps her feelings of trepidation were due to something more.
“Eve!” Javan suddenly announced from behind the curtain, signaling Eve’s cue to show herself.
Reacting as though she had been stung, Eve began to walk backwards toward the edge of the curtain, glancing back at her brother, wanting to say something, but not knowing what.
“Gabriel, I’m… I’m sorry, I have to go,” was all she could manage.
Gabriel didn’t reply. He simply stared after Eve, his face full of sadness and worry. That was the face she was left with when Gabriel vanished in the vortex of gold light.
When Eve turned around to face where she was walking and saw the room, she was immediately almost blinded by bright flashing lights as a hundred people began snapping pictures. The bulbs of their cameras flickered like strobe lights and Eve was only now able to see just how many people had turned up to see her.
They were all reporters, many local, just as many international. They were all crammed in on tightly spaced seats and even more people were simply standing around the room, pointing cameras at her, snapping pictures for papers and recording video for the evening news.
Eve looked to Javan, who was standing at a wooden podium with a dozen microphones attached to it. As Eve approached, he stepped aside for her, gesturing for her to stand where he had been. Swallowing her nerves, Eve stood at the podium and looked around the room. Many faces seemed to be in awe, while others looked skeptical. Others she couldn’t see, as they were turned down toward notebooks in laps, the reporters furiously writing notes. Eve took one more deep breath.
“My name is Eve,” she said. The room was eerily quiet as she spoke and she almost wished someone would just make some kind of noise, anything, just so it wasn’t so bizarre. “You’ve already been told what I am, but I’ll tell you again, just so there’s no confusion. I’m an Angel.”
The camera flashes flared again at this, and Eve could hear the sound of pens scribbling on paper.
“I’m here to help bring some kind of understanding about the events that took place on the day many humans are now calling the Global Revelation,” Eve went on.
“Was it the Apocalypse?” a reporter suddenly yelled from the crowd.
“Are Angels trying to destroy humanity?” another called out.
“People, please!” Javan said loudly. “Hold your questions, Eve will field some questions after her statement.”
“No, it wasn’t the Apocalypse,” Eve said, choosing to answer the reporter anyway. “The fact is that humans and Angels are not that different. We are actually very similar. And just like some humans lose their way and do bad things, so do some Angels. The first thing I want to say is that most Angels do not want to hurt humanity. We’re sworn to protect you. To guide you with invisible hands. But there were a few that wanted to gain more power than what they already had. And they hurt a lot of humans trying to get it. Millions of humans died. But when the Angels who were trying to destroy everything were stopped, my father brought those humans back to life and undid the destruction that had been done.”
“Who’s your father?” a reporter yelled.
“Please hold your questions!” Javan yelled back, almost impatiently.
Eve took a deep breath, choosing to also answer this question.
“My father is known to humanity by many names,” Eve said. “Many of you would know him as God.”
The crowd of reporters suddenly exploded in a tumultuous roar of shock and follow-up questions, everyone all shouting at once, leaping to their feet and screaming their questions as loudly as they could to be heard above everyone else, but the noise simply melted together and droned like a large engine.
Eve waited patiently, silently, as she let the crowd shout itself into silence. Javan was speaking loudly to the crowd, gesturing with his hands to quiet down. When the reporters finally settled, Eve continued with her statement.
“There are a lot of things I’d like to tell you,” Eve said. “I want to answer all of your questions. But Angels learned a long time ago that too much interference with humanity only leads to your suffering. I can’t give you too much information, because we have our own laws that we have to follow. Just know that the Angels who attacked and killed millions of humans do not come from Heaven. They were not sent by my father to destroy you. They only served tyrants, enemies of Heaven. who sought to make you suffer so that they might blackmail my father into giving them power. We fought them and they were stopped. Now, I’ll take some of your questions. I’ll answer what I can.”
Javan pointed at a young female reporter who was seated in the front row, who immediately stood up. Eve noticed that she was wearing a gold crucifix necklace.
“Will the Angels be back?” the reporter asked. “The one’s who attacked humanity? Could they come back to attack again?”
“No,” Eve replied. “Those who orchestrated the attack were destroyed, along with the army that served them. You don’t have to worry about them again.”
The reporter sat down, frantically writing notes while Javan gestured to another reporter. This time a man in a suit, who was scowling at Eve like she was a troublesome child.
“How do we know you’re really an Angel?” he asked snidely. “For all we know, this is some publicity stunt for Darwin Javan’s next book, or you’re just some punk kid looking for fifteen minutes of fame. What proof do we have that you’re really an Angel?”
Eve looked at the man with a smile emerging on her face. In the next instant, Eve brought her wings into view, expanding them to their full width, allowing the stunned crowd to stare in wonder at the white and red plumage. The reporter who had questioned Eve had fallen back into his chair, staring with wide eyes at the enormous wings that had seemingly appeared from nowhere, while the rest of the reporters aah-ed in awe.
“Who’s the punk, now?” Eve asked sweetly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Isaiah behind the curtain, laughing. In the center of the crowd of buzzing reporters, Eve also saw a man with disheveled, graying, hair, glaring at her with narrowed eyes, as though the sight of her wings offended him. He had a media pass hanging around his neck, like all those around him.
Suddenly, numerous reporters all leaped to their feet and began shouting more questions. A heartbeat later, it seemed like every reporter in the room was shouting to make themselves heard, all standing and waving their hands, some even standing on their chairs so that Eve would notice them. The shock of their sudden frenzy startled Eve into taking a step back from the podium and folding her wings against her back. And still, the reporters roared like an ocean storm.
“…same-sex marriage!?”
“…war in Afghanistan!?”
“What does God think of…!?”
“…stem cell…!?”
“…abortion!?”
“…Islamic states…!?”
“Eve!”
“Eve!”
“Eve!”
The roar of the crowd of reporters was almost deafening, all of them shouting at once so that Eve could only hear snippets of what they were demanding to know. Eve looked around at the eyes that were fixed on her, stared at the hunger that was within them. The man with the graying hair had also risen to his feet, but he was not shouting any questions. He was looking around at the reporters with a look of disdain. Eve paid him little attention, as the tumultuous reporters ignored all of Javan’s pleas to calm down and resume their seats. Eve suddenly understood what Gabriel had been saying to her. She had given the bare minimum of information, just enough to explain what had happened during the Global Revelation, but it was not anywhere near enough. They didn’t want to understand. They just wanted to know. To have the information. That was it. And just a little information wasn’t enough. They needed more. They needed all of it. That was the way of the human mind.
As Eve took several steps back from the crowd, the reporters seemed to sense that she wasn’t willing to tell them more, so appeared to swarm in closer, pressing against each other as they crushed in on one another, still in a frenzy to make their questions heard and answered.
“Everyone, please!” Javan roared, holding up his hands to the crowd. “Stay calm! One at a time!”
The reporters ignored him. They were focused entirely on Eve. On their story. On the source of information.
Isaiah must have noticed Eve’s expression of almost-panic, because he was suddenly standing by her side, holding her elbow. Eve turned to look into his blue eyes, which were staring into her green ones with concern.
“Eve, are you okay?” he asked.
Eve began shaking her head. “No. This was a mistake. I never should have done this.”
Just as Eve turned back to the reporters, she saw the man in the center with the graying hair once more. She saw him reach into the pocket of his coat. She saw him grasp something and carefully pull it out. She saw the black cylinder with the red button under his thumb. She met the man’s gaze as he glared up at her with hatred.
“People, calm down!” Javan was yelling. He was standing at the front of the crowd, mere feet away from the man with graying hair.
In the next instant, Eve realized what the man was holding and what he intended to do.
“NO!” she screamed.
Just as the man pressed his thumb down on the button.
The explosion was deafening. The man himself vanished instantly amidst the flames that seemed to burst out of his body. The fire first burned through his clothes and then engulfed him completely. The fire then spread outward, swallowing whole anyone who was too close. Those who were outside the fire’s reach were torn apart by the strength of the concussion, the blast rocketing outward like an invisible cannonball in all directions. Eve watched in horror as the fire and the blast rolled forward and set Javan ablaze, then knocked him backwards through the air, a flaming body that was already all but torn apart. Before Javan’s body could even land, the blast wave hit her and Isaiah.
At the last second, Eve wrapped her wings around Isaiah, shielding him from the blast and fire, but the strength of the explosion was still enough to knock them both down. Eve felt the fires raging over her body, but was safe from harm, as her Angelic body was too powerful to be destroyed by fire. She feared for Javan and Isaiah, and longed to help everyone who were already beyond help.
It all happened in a matter of a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. Then Eve heard the screams. People crying in pain, calling out for God, screaming. She could hear small fires burning around her, the curtains having been set ablaze, as well as several other fires all over the place, some of which being the burning corpses of those caught in the blast.
Eve rose to a kneeling position over Isaiah, relieved that he at least seemed okay. He was coughing violently, possibly having inhaled smoke, and had a vicious-looking cut on his forehead, either from flying debris or the force of Eve tackling him to the ground. His blood was running down his face, mixing with ash and mild scorch marks.
“Isaiah, are you okay?” Eve asked, still afraid that he might be hurt.
Coughing some more, Isaiah nodded, but was unable to speak. Eve helped him into a sitting position, looking around the room at the chaos.
Bodies were everywhere. And where there were not bodies, there was only what was left of them. There were people screaming as they looked at stumps that had once been arms or legs. A man was kneeling on the floor, grabbing at his face as he screamed and felt for the eyes that had been burned away. Many of the cameras had been knocked aside, but Eve could see the red lights that indicated they were still filming, recording all of the death and destruction.
The man had blown himself up. Why? To kill her? He had been looking at her with such hatred. And Javan! He had been in the blast.
Eve turned to look where she had last seen Javan’s body, flying through the air as a fiery comet. His long life had finally been brought to an end. Except…
When Eve saw Javan’s body, she did not see the lifeless corpse of a man who had been killed. Instead, she saw him slowly rising from his back, groaning as he sat up. She and Isaiah stared in amazement as Javan, burned and scorched, steadily began to rise to his feet.
His face was nothing but a charred hunk of meat. The fire had burned away most of his shirt and jacket, also burning his torso. As Javan rose to his feet, he looked down at his ruined suit and simply tore the rest of the shirt and jacket from his body, no longer needing them. Eve now could see on Javan’s chest where he had stitched her feathers under his skin, and tattooed their image where they had been placed. The feathers appeared to be glowing gently now, Javan’s skin a bright red, the same as if one had just placed their hand over a flashlight. There were only two feathers, one just under each of his collar bones. So close to the surface, looking like strange, glowing, tattoos, but Eve knew what they really were. And as Javan stood, burned and all but destroyed, she saw them begin to work their wonders.
Javan’s burned flesh began to renew. The burns seemed to simply fade away, the charred flesh beginning to heal. Javan’s face was quickly becoming like it had always been, healing rapidly. The regenerative powers of the feathers he had stitched into his flesh beginning to work down his torso, stitching together the parts of his body that had been completely blown apart, exposed ribs and organs now vanishing as flesh, muscle, and skin grew over them. In only seconds, Javan stood tall, surveying the damage with a look of horror on his unharmed face.
“Wha..?” Isaiah stammered. “How?”
“Men will never change,” Javan murmured to himself. Then he turned to Eve and Isaiah. “Are you two alright?”
“I’m fine,” Eve said. “Isaiah should get to hospital. And these people need medical attention right away”
“I’ll call 911,” Javan said, pulling out his cell phone, paying no attention to the fact that his fingers were still healing themselves, even as he began to dial.
Suddenly, Eve felt a tight grasp on her wrist. Looking down, Eve saw the man who had been blinded, grasping at her, holding her tightly.
“Please!” he cried. “Please! Is that Eve? Help me! You’re an Angel! You have to help me!”
Mortified and feeling sick with regret, Eve was shaking her head, her eyes wide as she stared at the burned face of the blinded man.
“I-I can’t,” she struggled to say. “I don’t have that power.”
“Please!” the man begged, the desperation in his voice cutting through Eve like knives.
Before Eve could say anything else, she felt the world fall away beneath her. She tumbled into a dark void, crying out as she felt her stomach leap into her throat, heard Isaiah call her name, but then the void closed above her and she knew nothing but darkness.
11
TRUE COLORS
W
hen the other side of the void opened, Eve tumbled out of it and landed heavily on her back, air being pushed from her lungs from the force of the impact. The void closed above her and Eve sat up, looking around in a panic as she tried to figure out where she was. A moment later, she relaxed, having recognized her location.
She was now sitting on the ground inside a large and bright cave. Although, despite how well-lit the cave was, there was no source of light to be seen anywhere. The cave was so huge that Eve couldn’t see all of the walls, but embedded in the rocks she could see, there were enormous diamonds jutting out of the walls, sparkling and casting rainbow colored refractions of the light across the ceiling of the cave, glimmering and waving like an aurora. Beside her, there was a river, unfathomably wide and long, each end of the river vanishing in the distance.
The River. This was the place where Reapers guided the souls of the dead, so that they might approach the River and look at their reflection within the water, and receive the judgement their life choices had led them to. It was here that determined if a human soul went to Heaven, or faced the tests of Purgatory, followed by The Garden, and, if they failed those tests, Tartarus.
Looking to the River, Eve immediately saw the River Guardian. He towered above her, standing at least nine feet tall. He wore gray robes that flowed down over his body and seemed to merge with the River, apparently becoming the flowing water, or the water flowing up and becoming his robes, it was impossible to say. His hands were large and his fingers long, ending with yellowing nails that were rotten and sharp. His skin was a decomposing white, wrinkled and decrepit, as though the water he resided in had eroded him in some way. His face was the same, pasty white and rotten, but there was an old bandage wrapped around his head, covering the place where his eyes should have been, but Eve knew there were no eyes beneath the wrap. Normally, he would have been smiling to see Eve, showing a mouthful of black and yellow teeth, but he was not smiling at present. He looked morose and regretful.
