All the Angles of Heaven

Prologue

On rare occasions you consider the afterlife. You know at least three different ways your soul could travel. You don’t know which path it will take. You know it doesn’t matter what you think. All that matters is what is.
You feel it when you look to the heavens, the insignificance, it haunts you. You don’t believe the people who tell you there is nothing out there, you don’t believe the people who say there is something, lurking behind the clouds, behind the atmosphere, beyond your sight. But then again, you’ll believe whatever they want you to.
Walking along the street, late at night as the lamps flicker in time with your step. You are alone. You step upon the stones of those who have walked before you. You think their thoughts. You think you see an angel in poor lighting. You head home. You wonder why everything is.

Is there a God?
Who is right?
What is right?

No one bothers to tell you. Then again everyone tells you what you should believe. You reach your door. You turn the key in the lock. You enter. You stub some extremity or another. You curse, take the lords name in vain. You wonder if those words will send you to hell. You worship your false idols. You sin.

Again.
And again.
And again.

You glance in the mirror. You think you see a demon reflected in your eyes. You pray before you go to bed, you don’t call it a prayer, but you pray. You dial God, you connect. It’s long distance. You don’t speak as if you are speaking to God. You speak as if you are in your own head.

If there is a God, he hears you.

You drift off to sleep, you dream. You will not remember the dream upon waking. You dream it just to dream it. You see God. He sneezes. You don’t know what to say. You see an angel’s sweet face.

“You must go to Earth, Elkan. Your counterpart is named Roman. You know you must stop him from reeking havoc among the humans.”
“Yes, Jahoel.”
“You must not be seen.”
“I understand.”
“You must allow those who are tempted to use the faith within themselves.”
“I understand.”
“To them you are the observer, the watcher, the silent, solid shadow of heaven.”
“I understand.”
“Then you shall walk upon the earth like those before you. You shall break through the veil that lays thick upon the beaten earth. Balancing the souls of those you see.”
“I understand, Jahoel, and I will neither shame nor darken the light of heaven.”
“Then may the peace of the Lord be with you.”
“And also with you.”

You see the sweet face fade away into the back of your eyelids. A voice sings in your ear.

“Amen.”

Your vision turns from a dream into a nightmare. You see Hell. A place you never have imagined before comes alive. The sweet face from before shimmers into view. You notice it is contorted, twisted and, although it holds the same features, it is suddenly vile.

“You are ready to recruit mortals for our dark prince, Roman?”
“Why don’t you just send me and we’ll count the scalps together?”
“Why not, indeed?”
“You don’t need to patronize me, I know how to tempt mortals souls.”
“Fine. You must not allow-”
“I know the rules! Just rip the veil and let me go.”
“As you wish, Roman. Just-”
“Don’t bother, I’m gone.”

The demon leaves you. You burn. You writhe. You do nothing to stop it. You can do nothing to stop it.

You wake up. You have the urge to purge yourself.

Of sins.
Of life.
Of food.

The coffee is poured. You get ready for work. You consider Church. You consider a higher power. Instead you shower.

You forget.
You rinse.
You repeat.