Chapter 17 #2
Satan huffed, bored now. “You were watching men massacre innocent people before I shot you. Is that victory over evil to you?” Though the saint’s face was hidden, the devil felt the tensing of his muscles like they were attached to his own bones.
“The Lord has always been behind the worst of mankind. He has been in their mouths as they slaughter non-believers, but I have hardly ever seen it so clear—” He breathed in, shakily, body beginning to ache and burn inside beneath the prince.
“How far gone you must be to not recognize it even now, even after all of humanity has shown you the depths of God’s cruelty. ”
“I told you to answer me.”
“Maybe I am like you — too dense, too stupid, to answer.” Satan shut his eyes for a moment, listened to the noise outside the church, every distant man and woman, child and elder, as well as the birds, the sound of cars.
“You will never find him,” he echoed. “You will succumb to me like you did when your lovely Father flooded the world. You will burn up in the hellfire that you are responsible for.” Finally, he reached into his pocket.
“You will not lead me astray.”
“How can I lead astray someone so far gone?” Satan yanked out his revolver, pressed the barrel against Michael’s helmet, held it there. “Release me.”
Michael, still, did not. “Is the anti-Christ in this church?”
“Maybe he’s buried beneath it.”
“Why do you disguise yourself as a man of God?”
“A woman of God was more difficult to be. Why have you come to the Earth?” Satan felt the cold around his neck ease up, and he heard the drag of Michael’s foot shifting backwards, surrendering.
“Why were you over the river? Don’t tell me the world is ending.
Is it real this time? You should have warned me. I would have dressed for the occasion.”
“The other archangels have come to the Earth,” he replied, steady, “and they are stationed in the Babylon you so love. At my word, they’ll have it destroyed.
” After Satan had shot him, Michael returned to the archangels — the other princes.
‘They were doing nothing, standing together over what they, the three archangels, had come to the reasonable assumption was Babylon. On the top of a skyscraper, on horseback, staring down at opulence and modernity.’ They looked at Michael, and Uriel had said that he and Gabriel were not going to remain here.
‘I’m sorry,’ Raphael had said instantly, his eyes pained and lowered. There was a scattering of other angels far behind him, peppered on other high buildings, staring down in wonder, fascination, at the world they had been sent here to destroy. ‘I tried to convince them to stay, Michael—’
‘I’m going to find Dina,’ Uriel had interjected coldly. ‘And Gabriel will return to Heaven.’ The messenger angel had turned his shameful gaze away. ‘We will not partake in this, Michael.’
‘The devil has found the anti-Christ,’ Michael had said, though he wasn’t certain, and he saw Gabriel and Raphael lift their heads swiftly while Uriel remained expressionless, stone.
‘He works as a false holy man among the anti-Christ’s people.
If you want to stop the apocalypse, it is too late.
The devil already wields the Beast.’ In the present, the prince was removing himself from Satan, looking down at him, and he said: “The angel Dina is here, too, isn’t he? Are you working with him?”
“Dina,” Satan echoed, as if he’d never heard the name.
“Uriel looks for him.”
“I see,” the devil chuckled. “What should I answer? You won’t believe my words, no matter what I say.” He tilted his face up, almost coyly. “But why would an angel work with me? Is there havoc in Heaven?”
‘You will,’ Michael had snapped at the other princes, ‘come to the anti-Christ’s stronghold when the sun grows dark. We will capture the devil and the anti-Christ, and then we will move forward with the saving of the pure.’
‘Who are the pure?’ Uriel had asked. ‘Who are the pure, Michael? Do you know?’
Now, Michael dismissed, “He’s nothing more than an interference, trying to do good for Uriel and for God, but he is easily manipulated. And because Babylon is the nation of sin, and you are its whore — you might have tempted him, as you tempt everyone.”
Giggling — “The whore of Babylon?” He reeled his body off the altar, stood over the remains of Eucharist, and drew in breath after breath.
“But we aren’t in Babylon, Michael. Look behind you.
There’s a pretty statue of you there. This is a place of faith, the right faith.
” Careful, the chief prince turned his head, to the right, as if he knew instinctively.
And, yes, there was a figure on a podium there, named San Miguel, beautiful and blonde and pale-skinned, one hand lifting a sword and one foot over the coiling of a dragon.
“But I’m sure you already know this nation, this town, is not Babylon, and so then I wonder what you’re doing standing here?
Why are you looking for the anti-Christ?
If you want to fulfill the prophecy, then Babylon must fall before the anti-Christ is killed. ”
“Don’t quote the scripture at me,” Michael snapped, turning back to face him, and the devil could sense he was clenching his teeth. “I won’t kill him—”
“Only capture him?”
“And I will capture you too, Satan,” the prince added, lower.
“You will be brought before God.” Lowering his gun, the devil shook with laughter.
“In exchange for Hell, you swore that you’d return to the Lord, and you would accept His resurrection of the angel of worship that you destroyed.
But, instead, you’ve schemed, time and time again positioned yourself like a god of this Earth.
Christ, the Son, was crucified because of you.
And you committed an abomination because of your recklessness, your pride.
And I will bring you before the Lord so that you repent before He tears you apart and creates a reborn Lucifer from your corpse. ”
Satan was quiet, smile falling slow — all the humor gone.
Silence. It was enough to seemingly unsettle Michael, who shifted, waited.
Over a shoulder, the handle of his sword loomed in threat.
But the prince, in all his pale armor, gleamed the church’s light.
He could have been a ghost, standing among artifacts of saints, angels, of a bygone time.
“The prophecy of the Revelation,” said the archangel slowly, almost with a nervous shake, “will occur. It’s greater than you, than me.”
“Those were words written by a man.”
“God inspired those words.”
“Maybe God inspired a lie,” replied Satan, then he watched as the chief prince turned to show him his back, wings curling in to tuck into them, perhaps slip back into his body. “And where are you going now?”
“The anti-Christ will have no choice but to reveal himself soon, and I’ll wait until then. Consider this my covenant with you.”
Satan, then, snorted. “Didn’t you say you’d torture me for refusing to tell you where he is? You haven’t changed since we last spoke, too cowardly to hurt me, too cowardly to save me.”
“I have seen your face everywhere on this Earth,” said Michael, marching toward the door. “You are their performer and their priest, their god. This is a wicked place, and all there is to do is destroy it, as God has promised to do. The evil will suffer and the good will rise to Heaven.”
“And replace the angels?”
“The time of angels has passed. We are all corrupt. It is because of you that we are not worthy to care for God’s eternal city any longer.
” Michael paused, then he turned back one last time, helmet still shielding however much he might be frowning or hurting.
“You will not be victorious against God, Satan. You did not win the war for Heaven, and you will not best our Father this time. I will follow the prophecy. It has been written. God will be victorious. He is good.”
The devil slipped his weapon back into his cassock, bit the inside of his cheeks, and waited before it was obvious that Michael was the one who wanted to hear some final words, perhaps a goodbye. “But are you good?”
“I will do as He says.” How dearly Michael must’ve missed talking to Satan.
“Because we angels are all sinners now, I will not bother with sanctity when I hurt you.” If Satan could pity, he might’ve pitied him.
“I will treat your body with no grace, no holiness. I will desecrate every inch of you. When I capture you, if the Lord allows me to be the one to kill you.”
“You love it when we argue. I give voice to your doubts.”
“Farewell, Satan. I will burn you when we meet again.”
“You will miss me.”
“Perhaps, I will burn us both.” Then, the angel lifted the board he’d placed over the doors, set it aside haphazardly.
Michael tried to expel all the fury in his heart that should be fiery anger but was weighing into dense misery he could not do away with.
God, help him, God, help him. Every step forward in the dark evening was an inch toward apocalypse, the few stars above twinkling in the dark abyss.
‘It will not be like before.’ He would do it right this time.
But, his heart ached as he admitted who he must speak to, who he should have come to first, no matter how furious it may make her. ‘Joana,’ he thought. Joana.