Chicka Chicka Chicka Chicka
I could sense something was wrong and woke. Above me the ceiling fan spun wildly trying to escape its mount. I took stock of my surroundings. Beneath my cherub figurine was a crumb covered table. Sunlight poured in from the window behind it, where a clutter of pots sat on the sill. There were no plants, just dirt and long-ago chewed stems. To my right was a sink full of dirty dishes, over which dripped a rusty faucet. Cupboards glazed in decades of grease and bags of pop bottles and beer cans told me I was in the kitchen. He had moved me into the kitchen?
I popped out of my home and marched through the living room towards the hall. The door to Bishop's bedroom at the end was closed. I kicked it open with my corporeal foot and charged in.
"You re-summoned him?" I demanded.
Bishop stared up at me, with a dazed expression, from the bed where he lay, presumably naked, under the covers beside Asmodeus.
"Well, yeah, I guess," he said.
"I never went far," objected the demon. "Holy water hurts but it doesn't kill or exorcise."
He appeared completely recovered from my heroic splashing. It began to dawn on me that this demon was stronger than myself, and I might need assistance in eradicating him.
"Don't do anything," I said. "I'll be right back."
I slipped into the hall and took the folding circular mirror out of my pocket. Its surface rippled with soft mercury, a very valuable agent for angels and our best kept secret. Until human's discovered it. I spoke Laurel's name three times and waited a few minutes before his face came into view on the other side.
"Laurel, how soon can you get here?" I asked.
"Miranda is on a first date and the guy looks like a total serial killer, so I can't really slip away," he said.
Miranda was his charge. She was a pretty red head with a thirst for craft beer, and a knack for fart jokes.
I quickly told Laurel the story of the last twenty-four hours. His eyes growing wider by the moment. I knew he often thought Bishop was out of control, and that maybe I was a little lax in my guardian-ing. Still, I wasn't prepared to hear him say, "How could you let this happen? Does Hashut know?"
"No," I snapped. "And he will continue not to know."
"Alright. I can be there in a few hours," he said eventually.
"Thank you." I said, as I put the mirror back in my pocket.
Back in the bedroom any shenanigans were cut short by the presence of ten or so cats who had made it onto the bed. The room was a chorus of purrs.
"Don't know why the Hell they like me so much," the demon muttered.
"I think it's sweet," said Bishop.
Asmodeus looked deeply disturbed by that.
I sat myself down on the floor by the doorway, sword drawn, and stared unblinkingly at the pair. Between me and the cats' intrusion, and mine, the erotic atmosphere had vanished. Bishop must have realized this because he began to make an effort to rid the room of felines. However, he couldn't scoot me out so easily.
"Are you just going to watch?" Bishop said incredulously.
Of course, he is," said Asmodeus. "He is a voyeur. All angels are; they claim to be high and mighty but they don't leave the room when you sit around and jerk off."
Bishop blushed and if angels could, I would have too. I did live in his bedroom next to the bed. I didn't care. Humans are funny about those things though. And, I suppose, some guardians might be a little judge-y.
"No," I said. I am not going to watch..."
My words trailed off as I felt a burning in my back pocket. Curious, I took out the mirror, turned towards the wall, and pried it open. I found myself staring at weeds. Then there was a pulling in my stomach. The suction, starting from about my navel, was so strong I felt queasy. When it was done, I was spat out into a soft green field of prairie grass, where cows could be heard gently lowing upon a hill distantly. Hashut stood before me.
"Hello Hashut," I said. Then a disturbing thought came to me. "Am I dying?"
Angels can't really die. They can disappear forever, but they don't die in the human sense. However, angels, and any being stranded on Earth, must depart it at some point; and for that you need a Spirit Walker. They lead one's soul spirit from one plane to the next. They also serve the dual purpose of being sort of a district manager, of sorts, for all the area angels. Hashut was our Spirit Walker.
"You are not crossing over yet," Hashut said. "I've just received word from Michael..."
"The Michael?"
"No. A Michael. Leading guardian rep of the North Americas. He has passed judgement on you," Hashut informed me.
I gawked at him in puzzlement.
"You have failed as a guardian, and have allowed your human charge, to be touched by a devil and know the true nature of Heaven. As such you shall be sent back and his soul shall be revoked," said Hashut.
Revoked? Damn that Laurel! Damn him straight to Hell! Though while I was very troubled by this news, I couldn't help but be a little impressed by the quickness and efficiency of my punishment. Usually angel bureaucracy requires much more pape- pushing. I took this to mean I had really fucked up.
"What exactly do you mean by 'revoked'?" I asked.
"He will die and be sent to Mana," Hashut clarified.
A cow mooed in the background as a shudder went through me. I couldn't have Bishop dying through fault of mine. I'd put a lot of work into that kid. A lot of angel hours. I'd known Bishop since, well, gestation.
"It shall be so," said Hashut and I was sent rushing back through the compact.
I arrived back in the bedroom to find a very sleepy, satisfied human and a very bored, dissatisfied demon.
"He's back," said Asmodeus passing back the joint he was sharing with Bishop.
The boy took a tired puff.
"That was quick," he said, and exhaled.
His bedmate gave me a hard stare at that proclamation, as if hoping I might commiserate. I avoided his eyes and attempted to look righteously indignant at the sight of them post-coitus. I wasn't really feeling it though. I was in a bit of a panic, thinking I'd be going back to Heaven soon, Bishop would be dead, and the demon problem had yet to be addressed.
"I'm hungry," said Asmodeus. He stood, almost a giant in the tiny room.
"His soul wasn't enough," I said, suddenly angry.
"I've gotten more soul eating lobster," he said.
Bishop, exhausted from his romp, was now asleep and unable to defend himself.
I followed the demon to the kitchen. We picked up a trail of cats as we moved through the home. He opened the fridge, knocking off several magnets which had been there so long the left white impressions on the door where it had once been clean. He took out a nearly empty jugs of milk, drank some, and gleefully upended the rest onto the floor for the cats, who gathered around and began to drink.
"He's going to die because of you," I said.
"Demon's gotta make their bread. Besides, he won't die right away."
"Tonight. Tomorrow. Soon. Heaven has decreed," I cried.
He looked up from behind the refrigerator door, half a cucumber poking out of his mouth. He bit into it, let part of it drop to the floor, chewed thoughtfully and said, "That can't happen."
"Why would you care?" I asked.
"That soul is mine," he said.
Of course, that was why. He wanted to enslave Bishop's soul for eternity. I just wanted to keep him alive until I could talk to Hashut again, get him to talk to Michael and change his mind.
"Okay," I said. "I don't want him dead and you don't want him dead yet. So, what if we just make sure he doesn't die?"
"Wouldn't you rather him die then allow me to enslave his soul?" Asmodeus asked.
He made a good point but I had to keep Bishop going. I had an image to maintain, and more importantly, I had confidence.
"Oh, you aren't going to get it. He's a good kid. He will choose the light in the end. And if he doesn't... I'll let you have his soul fair and square," I said.
Perhaps because I am an angel, he wasn't expecting me to be duplicitous, because he shook my hand on it. However, I had no intention of giving up Bishop's soul to him. He'd already had a taste and that was too much