Answers Found in Death: Part One

Everything must burn

           The house was quiet, for the moment.  It would scream later.  But right now it was time to deal with the two sleeping toddlers.  The twin boys stirred as the demon hovered over their crib.  It struggled to decide which one should become still forever and which one should become the dark’s redeemer.

            Must choose one.  Kill the other.  Cannot risk interference from the other child.  The older one must be saved.  The second son has always proved meddlesome for my kind.

            With the decision made, the demon’s shapeless arm shaped a shadowy spike that stuck purposefully toward the second son’s mouth.   The spike halted a hair’s breadth from the younger boy.  A pale skeletal hand gripped the shadowy arm.  A shudder shook through the demon.  The demon knew this other, holier being of death well and fear gripped its twisted soul.  Without meeting the angel of death’s eyes, the demon addressed it. 

            “Azriel, please remove your hand from me.  It burns my cursed essence.”

            Without relinquishing its grip, Azriel responded, “You were only given power over the first born.  You have no power over the second son.”

            The demon stiffened. “I chose the first born.”

            “Did you, Azorath?  Did you really choose?” mocked the angel of death.  Azriel wore its guise for dealing with the ungodly: black robe, skeletal limbs, and a cowl that obscured the whole face except the glowing red eyes.  “Then will you tell me why you chose the firstborn?”

            Azorath had yet to meet the death angel’s gaze, and Azriel kept a firm grip on the demon’s arm.  Azorath answered, “Because of the irony of their names.  And the second son has historically been problematic for the fallen.”

            “Crude methodology, but seeing how your prophet, Delphi, failed to specify which child to choose…”

            “She did not fail.  She left room for choice, Angel.”  Azorath’s essence began to stir violently. 

            Azriel’s mocking tone disappeared, and a cold, deathly whisper took its place, “Believe me, Azorath, you never had a choice.”  The death angel removed its skeletal hand, wrapped it around the second son, and disappeared from the room.  Azorath raised the first born from the crib and followed Azriel.  In wake of the demon’s sudden absence, a spark lit the floor boards where the demon previously hovered.  The spark grew into a fire which quickly devoured the twins’ room and consumed the rest of the house.

            The angel and the demon, each one holding a twin, reappeared on the street in front of the burning house. 

            “Fire, the most beautiful of all the material elements.  ‘Everything will burn’.  Isn’t that what Y’weh promised, Azriel?”

            “Unfortunately for you, there is no fire in Sheol.  Only darkness awaits you there.”

            “With this child, Azriel, I will be able to avoid the darkness.”  The entire house was engulfed in flame.  It groaned as the fire ate away its support.  “The house burns quietly.  I was so looking forward to the screams of the parents.  Maybe I made the fire too hot.”

            Azriel stirred and spoke, “I was ordered to send the parents to Paradise before I stopped you from killing the second son.” then disappeared. 

            The demon stood alone with first born cradled in its arms.  “You must save me from the darkness, little one.  Please save me.”

***

            Azriel and the second son appeared in front of a small run down church.  When viewed from the material plane, the church looked decrepit and rotting.  But viewed from the spirit realms, the church was a fortress against everything but Y’weh Himself.

            The Father of this church was a medium to the spirit realm.  Because of the ever-increasing realignment of the spirit and material planes, many mediums’ interactions with the beings of the spirit realm became more frequent and intense.  Mediums were disappearing, dying, or going insane.   To avoid all of these possibilities, the Father rarely left the church which protected him from any malevolent being.

            Azriel placed the child on the top step of the church.  The angel of death bent over the toddler and whispered for some time in his ear.  Then stepped back and said, “Everything will burn and be recreated from the ashes.”  The second son was left alone on the step. 

***

Six year old Jacob ran into his father’s study, crying, “Daddy! Daddy, I was reading the book you gave me, and it just caught fire!”

The father barely had a chance to get out of his chair, when Jacob grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the study to the room that held the smoldering book.  As the father picked up the remains of the Bible, it turned to ash in his hands.  The father looked down at his sniffling son, “Stop crying, boy.  Everything must burn.  Now, recite the lines I taught you until you can control yourself.”

Walking back to his study, he could hear the boy dutifully reciting the poem.  Looking at the ashes in his hands, Azorath frowned and sat back in his chair.

            So much work to do.