(NaNoWriMo, unedited) Between Heaven and Hell is a place only lost souls walk, alone, shrouded by grief and confusion and the knowledge and suspense that leads, hand in hand with eternal life and possible damnation. Between the bodies and scattered plans to escape to a world where their actions are not judged by a man without fault or knowledge claiming to be holy, a hero of sin rose. His name was Lucifer, and he would be the one to lead a revolution using hatred and hearts of wounds. He would be the one to let the evil rise.


4. An Angel

The next room felt more like his own.  The walls were chipped, and the bed was well worn through, the headboard chewed through.  Under the sheets, a girl lay, much younger than even Bede.  They looked down on her, with her pearl-clear skin and hair of strung gold.  She wasn’t smiling, instead was taking in sharp breaths, pulling at the restraints around her wrists and ankles.  She sobbed in her sleep, dreaming about what must have come before.

“She looks more like you.”  Bede said, as a passing thought.  She pressed her cold hand to the girls clammy forehead.  The girl’s chest stopped jumping, but her fingers still scratched through the bed sheets, “Blonde, pale, blue eyes, I imagine.  The same kind of beauty, you both must have fallen around the same time.”

“Fallen?” he was interrupted by the girls low moaning as the rope tying her down cut through her lips.  Black dripped onto the sheets, “Why is she so restless?”

Bede pulled the girl’s robes around her shoulders, exposing deep cuts, and the lazy, messy stitches that attempted to hold the skin together.  Fate winced, as Bede scratched the torn skin lightly.  It oozed a vile green, and the girl whimpered gratefully.

“Some monster is harvesting her, drinking her dry and waiting for her to wake to start again.  She’s too young to be strong, her blood must only keep him beautiful for days, maybe hours even.  The poor girl, what must have she done to deserve such a horrible, Hellish fate?

Fate stepped forward, taking the girl's hand.  In her sleep, she turned to face him.  Her lips quivered as he drew steady circles on her wrist with his thumb.  Two circles, overlapping at the center, the symbol of infinity.  He could feel her watching.

“She must have rebelled.”

Bede, in equal parts surprised and concerned, grunted, but didn’t speak.

“People like you, they deny the Lord, and are cast away from the light.  Your second chance you called the Waiting, as you decide in that moment whether to walk with your head low from Him, and be found by the Holy World again, or to rot once more like the body you had betrayed in the past.  You’re dying, aren’t you, Bede?  Are you using me, waiting for my blood?”

She swallowed, face as grey as the world before them both, “No, I am not.  I swear to you.”

“Then why did you wait for me to wake?”

Bede dropped her head, her hair casting her eyes in shadows.  He kept his eyes on the listening girl, urging him to go on.

“You have never committed sin, you could ascend to Heaven if not for your pride.”

The angel sucked in a breath.  For the first time, she began to glow.  He hadn’t realised that the one lighting the room so far had been him, a haze growing with each word.

“Pride is a toxic thing, no?  One that angels do not know.  And yet, you’d rather decay in a world like this, of lost carnivorous souls and stone.  You don’t believe in the world above, do you?  In which the dictator claiming to care while the diseases and famine and war he orchestrates poisons everything the angels are told to love, all the people on Earth.  Does part of you still long to ignore the demon man that slits your chest open and sucks you dry, the pain is not a scratch on what you want, what you need deep inside?  A revolution on Heaven, where you sit with great wings stitched to your spine and a horse with a breath of fire charging pearly gate, freeing the people in their bodies of the trauma that cuts their life like a knife.  Don’t you want to set his creations free?  Is that not an angel’s greatest wish, the reason to fall from His Great Heaven Above?”

Bede made a strangled noise, coming from far in her throat.  In the room washed out with light, the only thing she could say was, “Fate?  I’m not an angel.”

“I know,” he grinned, the world blurring, and yet bright enough to watch the little girl wake, “I wasn’t speaking to you.”

Her eyes were as black as her blood, and her smile resonated through the darkest shadows in the hospital room.  He heard the walls crack and chip, the power of lost souls making the world shift beneath them.  His ears filled with drumming, and the calling of his name.

    Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, it cheered.

    The girl sat up in her broken bed, deserving better.  Her dress and hair pulled back behind her as she was enveloped in an unearthly light, as bright as halos, wrapped around her pale and cut figure.

    She reached out for him, and Bede reached out as well.  In the back of his mind, she tried to pull him away, but she couldn’t touch him - no one could, except the angel.  Their fingers only grazed each other’s, but that was all it took for the roof to fall through and their light to stretch far above the grasp of man.  She smiled brighter, and he smiled back, tongue pressing through his teeth and letting blood roll down his chin.  The girl seemed to laugh at this, and she leaned forward to whisper to him.

    However, the last thing he heard was “thank you, Sir,” before the light went out like a storm.  Darkness fell again, as his head was hit hard by a piece of the rubble.

    He collapsed on the floor, his body facing underneath the bed.  As a thick, black pool surrounded his head, much like a halo of darkness he would have gloated about only seconds ago, he watched the angel back away, her legs shaking from the ankles.

    She fell to her knees, and was dragged by her hair out of his vision.  He wanted to cry out, but his vision was fading fast this time, and he could feel life slipping away from him.

    He heard a man laugh, “Here, pretty-pretty.”

    But the man huffed as the air was knocked out of his lungs, probably by Bede.  She called, “Fate!” and came to his side.

    He wanted to tell her to go back to the angel, but he couldn’t speak.  He couldn’t think.  His mind was only filled with the darkness of death that took over the light she had let him know.  He started drowning, coughing and spluttering.  He didn’t see a light racing towards him, but instead the lack thereof, and he let his short life go, only holding onto Bede’s hand and the knowledge that he had discovered his meaning in the Waiting.  There he died, Bede’s call following him into the dark.


    “It must be such a job.”

“Now, we mustn’t be greedy.”

They laughed, other men draped in white sheets, gold surrounding their very beings.  Wings beat around him, and harps filled empty slots in conversation.  Women sat in galleries of gold , brushing each other’s sun bleached hair and looking through the rippling clouds, down to an Earth as blue as the skies above.  Some looked up at him, lights in their crystal, adonis winged eyes.  He couldn’t help but smile back, and they wouldn’t drop his gaze.


He turned back to the men, and they all laughed again.  Hearty chuckles from their broad, barrel chests.  They all looked like they were carved from the finest, Holy marble.  Snow-white skin, sun-yellow hair, ocean-blue eyes.  They took him by the shoulders.

“How is it to be the favourite?”

He glanced back at the women, who giggled behind feathered fans.

“I am simply a server to God.  I am, however, honored to be chosen to act by his side.  I have watched the creation of the Earth itself and it is my only duty to help form a world that loves and fears the Holy One.  For all He has done, I am eternally in His debt.”

The men watched him for a moment intentivly, nodding and mumbling in appreciation, and near prayer.

Eventually in the silence, one angel said “You’d think he had rehearsed that.”

And they began laughing again, settling at the rim of Heaven to watch the world below.  The people went about their day, collecting fruit in wicker baskets and minding children in huts of mud and willow.  It was simple, a design Lucifer thought suited the kindness in which the Earth was created and meant to serve the Lord in.

“I’ll return later.  Please, if I am needed, just call my name.”  he said, and let the men say their goodbyes behind him.

He walked towards the women, his head high, gaze kept on their eyes.  They extended their hands, and he felt himself drawn towards them like they were winding ropes back into their heavenly grasp.  

But halfway, he was stopped by a small boy.  His wings were still shedding, pink skin like rose petals showing through the white feathers.  His hair was brown, his eyes as green and bright as burning copper.  He was unlike the others, baby fat still clinging to his cheeks and bare stomach.  The other angles were already watching him.

“‘Scuse me, sir?” he said, and was quickly shushed.

He knelt down on one knee, “I am not as much sir as you are ma’am.  However, I can help you?”

The boy gave a dimply smile, and extended his hand, “Aren’t you the Lord’s closest angel?  His proudest?”

“Oh, not proud, no.  But I am his right-hand angel, so to speak.”

The boy looked up with the whole sun’s energy twinkling in his eyes, “Wow.  That must be amazing.  Didn’t you speak to him about how to act upon sinner?”

“We all did, God listens to us all.”

The boy looked down, clicking his sandals together, “Could I ask a favour?”

“Why, of course.” he said with a wide smile.  The women rolled their eyes and tried pulling him over to their shaded gallery, but he kept his eyes on the boy.

“Do you think you could see if God would get rid of killers?  I saw a lady die the other day and I just don’t think it’s very fair if He makes all people and some kill other people.  I don’t think that’s fair, but I would only like to help God.”

He bit his lip, “What’s your name, boy?”

He looked up, “Jegud.”

“Jegud?  Jegudiel?”

The boy nodded twice.

“Well, you a strong angel, Jegudiel, and you will do great things yourself.  I will listen, and so will our Creator, but all that is fair or unjust is God’s will, and in the end, the holy will follow the path of righteousness, and we shall see them around us in Heaven, grateful for the Earth and all of it’s creatures.”

“Yeah… I just don’t think it’s fair.”

He looked over.  The women had nearly lost interest, and had returned to braiding each other’s hair.  The men laughed loudly behind him.  He leaned forward to the boy’s ear and whispered, “Me neither.  I’ll see what I can do about the killers, okay?”

The boy grinned and nodded three more times, taking the older angel by the shoulders, and bringing him to a hug.  While close, he whispered back, “Thank you, sir. You could run the bad world, Lucifer.”

Before he had a chance to correct him, the boy ran off, leaving a trail of weak feathers behind.  Lucifer just exhaled once, amused.  The boy was young, his wings weren’t even formed, he didn’t mean what he said.

He began walking to the gallery again, rubbing his blurry eyes.


    “Fate!  Fate!”

    As if a seal was broken, light creeped back in, starting as a strip.  It was murky, but it was light all the same.  His body did not wash in it, and he felt as cold as he had dead.  The back of his head pounded, but the black halo had stopped growing.  Suddenly, he felt someone yank his eyes open.  He blinked hard, the light unwelcome and making the pain considerable worse.

    “Oh, thank God.” Bede said, making him grimace.

    With her arm under his, she helped him sit.  Looking around, he realised he had no idea what had happened.  He sat among the remains of the roof, and the night stretched above them, starless and unnerving.  There was the body of a young man in the corner, his right temple bleeding profusely.  A girl sculpted by another world, much more perfect than the Waiting, sat on the rubble, her limbs splayed out and blood rushing from her throat, her head, and her lips.

    “I need to-” he tried to sit up, if only to hold the girl, but Bede held him back.

    “She’ll be fine, Fate!  You need to heal before you move.”

    There was a desperate look in her eyes, but he pulled away anyway, and struggled his way to the girl.

    She didn’t move, her body limp.  Something in him wanted to scream, to tear this place to shreds, but he buried it deep inside himself.  There were things much darker than him at play.

    Instead, they both absorbed the light, and the immediate world around them went out like a match.  There was just enough light to see the girl, as she opened her eyes again.  He thought that Bede was right, that there was no death in that plane, just endless suffering.

    The girl opened her eyes, and he jumped seeing that they were as black as night.  She smiled at him, equally as scared of his clear blue eyes.

    “Lucifer…” she muttered, breathless.  He could hardly focus on the moving figure in the corner, only on the fact she somehow knew his name.


    “Won’t you…” she rolled her neck, but he propped it up with his hand, still listening, “Won’t you save us all?”


    She coughed, and smiled.  She was glowing, but that was dimming fast, “Like you said, free the people from their trauma.  Will you declare a war on Heaven, and defend the four worlds and all of the…”

    Bede gasped softly, and simply said, “No,” as she watched Fate’s face screw up.  The man in the corner didn’t speak if he could.  The walls shifted in, listening as well.

    “I… I said that?”

    The angel looked at the empty roof.  She spat out at the sky, at the same thing Bede had cried to not long ago, and she uttered with one heaving breath, “You shall rule the new world, Lucifer.”

    And with that, her skull crumbled in his shaking hand, her body turning to hot ash in a single spark.  Fate jumped away, mumbling as the angel’s silhouette and screaming face turned into a stain in the stone floor.  Her cracked ribs, her twisted legs, her open chest - they all turned to a heavy layer of fiery ash, and blew away with a wind no one in the room felt, only leaving her timeless shadow, and along with it a nightmare.  The outstretched wings, but no the ones from his dreams, not the ones that had ever been seen before, but scorched things as black as coal and as sharp as swords.  They spread across the floor, from under the man to under where Bede knelt.  They watched in silence as the screaming face and still wings found themselves trapped in the Waiting, forever.

    “Who was she?” Fate said after seemingly an eternity.

    “An angel.”

    “Not a demon?”

    “Not while she was breathing.”

    “And what happened to her?”

    Bede pulled herself closer, taking a needle and thread from a purse.  She rubbed his back, and began stitching up his shirt.

    “You don’t remember?  The light?”

    “What happened to my shirt?”

    She sighed, “Never mind that, do you remember the light?”

    He thought, “I dreamt again.  For the life of me, I can’t recall what of, but the light was from there.”


    “And what?”

    She stopped for a moment, “What else do you remember?”

    “Drawing symbols on her hand, settling her.  I felt she was listening to me, so I spoke.  I said… I…”

    Fate held his head, the pain growing worse with every memory, until they ran out.

    “I don’t know what I said.”

    Bede stopped again.  She thought for a moment, and began stitching once more.  For some reason, she seemed lighter now, happier even.

    “She was a rebel angel, she believed that there should be war on Heaven and that is why she was cast here.  When she met you, she wanted you to join her army.  Her disobedience came with the punishment, forever scorching the world between living and dead.”

    He ran his fingers along the outlines of her sharp wings.  They dented the solid floor, “But how did she know my name?”

    “If you look inside yourself, I’m sure you knew hers.”


    She stopped, and bit her lip.  For some reason, he didn’t believe her

    “Yes, somewhere.” she said, putting away her things and standing again, not looking if she was standing on the shadow or not, but subconsciously avoiding it, “Is that all you remember, Fate?”

    “Yes.” he said, rising as well, “I dreamt, but it was all light, I’m sorry I can’t help you more.”

    She nodded, “Then we should go.  It was a mistake bringing you here.  I wanted you to remember again, but I now see that it was a bad idea.  Let’s go?”

    “You.” a voice said, cracking and sharp, and making the back of Fate’s head burn.

    Bede said the same unknown word as before, but urgently, her face full of fear.

    The young man stood up, using the wall as a support.  As suddenly as he spoke, his hair fell out from the top of his head, leaving off-coloured wisps under each step he took closer.  His teeth fell from his head, leaving a wrinkled, crooked smile in his wicked face.

    “You killed my angel.  I needed that girl, or else my beauty will fade,” he pulled out a blunt knife from his waistline, “and you really don’t want that, pretties.”

    “This isn’t a case of speak too soon for your beauty or the girl,” Bede said, bravely, “Let us pass.”

    “You’re not going anywhere.  I know what that boy is.”

    Bede gripped Fate, digging her nails into his forearm, “Y-You do?”

    The man cocked his head to the side, “What?”

    “What is he then?” she repeated.

    The man’s weapon waved a little, his smile fading.  They noticed his two ears, and the rushing blood from both.

    “Oh thank Christ.” she said, Fate pushing her grasp off quickly.

    “I know what he is!” the man regained his posture, still as deaf, “He’s an angel like her!  Maybe five years older?  Yes, should serve me well.”

    “He knows nothing, huh?” Bede said, the man’s confidence dipping again, as he rubbed his ears, “Fate?


    “Take the black powder out of my left hand pocket.  I’ll run right, and you smear his face no matter the means.  Okay?”

    As the man howled, his body still withering and wrinkling, threats still filling the room, Fate took the small pouch into his hand.  Bede tapped his thigh, one... two.    ..

    On three, she ran to the right, grabbing the man’s attention.  Jumping over rubble, Fate took the chance and the top layer of powder onto his fingers.  It burned like lime, but the man was too busy sweeping for Bede, he didn’t notice Fate until the black powder filled his eyes, nose and mouth.

    He screamed the same blood-curdling way, and collapsed to the floor, holding back the contents of his brain.  They didn’t wait to watch him rot, and instead Bede took his hand and they ran back into the wasteland.

    “Wait!” Fate stopped, already breathless, “We can’t leave him there with her!”

    Bede looked around, twisting on the spot, “Let’s go, Fate, why can’t he stay, he wanted to kill us!”

    “We can’t leave him with her.”

    She stopped, shocked, “With the angel?  Fate, she’s gone.”

    “I know but-”

    She took the side of his face in the same familiar way, but somehow it didn’t feel as strong anymore, not with something to compare it too, even if he didn’t remember what, “She’s gone.  He can’t hurt her, only us.  We need to run.”

    She began running again, but away from the rooms on the hill.  He followed, taking one moment to look back at the place without a roof, with cracking walls, but he could swear that through the gaps in the bricks, he saw a light begin to shine.  Not much more than a candle, but the screams stopped, and he never saw them start again.

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