Chapter 1 Azrael
Azrael
When the helicopter started to lower, the snow whirled into a snowstorm around us.
I leaned back in the seat. Did they really think flying me here would discourage me? They could have flown me to a volcano and dropped me on an island in the center of the molten lava, and I still would have found my way back to the steps of that building.
It didn’t matter how far he sent me away or how desperately he wanted to reform me, I would eternally come back with a vengeance. Mine was an insanity you couldn’t just fix.
When the helicopter finally landed, two men came over to meet us. They helped me out, my escort coming right behind me as if they feared I would do something as stupid as kill them and steal the helicopter myself.
It had crossed my mind once or twice, but I figured it was against my better judgment. Besides, I was curious to see why father dearest had picked this asylum rather than any other.
My first taste of what laid beyond the frigid metal door was the cross covered in snow they had pressed into the center of it.
The doorknob had a finger pad on it, allowing them entrance, the warmth flooding over us the second that door opened. An entire building made of stone, and they still managed to make it scorching inside.
The small entrance led straight to a narrow staircase, which only opened the moment we stepped off onto the first floor.
I knew what this place was the second I touched that red rug lined hall.
Someone here must have had some sort of brain because there wasn’t an average person in the world who could guess where my gaze would go and put a cross there. Everywhere my eyes wandered, up, down, sideways, there was another cross as if they were trying to bless the place in holiness.
On the tapestries that lined the walls were bible verses stitched into them, and at intervals down the hall were lit oil lanterns. There was clearly electricity here with the type of security they had, so why waste time walking through this building to light and blow out all of these lanterns?
So, our father wanted to send me to a Russian asylum to teach me how to rid me of my tendencies by using the good Lord above?
It made me want to laugh. While I believed in the man they called Jesus—only due to the evidence found over the years proving the stories in the Bible to be true—I also knew that we humans loved to omit things to control the narrative.
While I didn’t know why they decided to take out certain books of the Bible, I did know they did it to control us, those in power loved to do anything they could to control us.
So, was there a God? All I knew for certain was that there was a man who once walked this earth that did things that were unexplainable to those who lived during that time. I had my doubts that the people here could teach me any more than I already knew. Let alone enough to ‘reform me’.
After all, God was a preacher of forgiveness, but that didn’t mean He held back on His wrath when the time came.
I wondered which version they would preach.
The men led me down the long halls, doors lining each one, until we finally approached a set of double doors at the end of the hall. Very predictable little asylum, if I had my guess, this would be the sanctuary.
The two men opened up the doors, and lo and behold, it was an aisle, lined in pews, leading right to the altar where a cross hung glowing white.
A woman stood at the end of the aisle, very slight, hardly a curve, crows feet and lines around her lips covered in pasted make-up. Her hands were folded behind her back, her pointed chin lifted. The word that came to mind was a heron on the verge of death.
The men led me down the aisle, pulling me to a stop yards from the woman.
“Good morning, Azrael, you may call me Lady Elise.”
I looked around the room, taking in the small sanctuary, the piano on the small stage just to the right of the cross, and the long altar that cut between the stage and the pews.
“If you’re looking for a means of escape, I can assure you, you won’t find that here.”
My eyes found hers again. “It’s just a bit underwhelming,” I told her easily. “An Asylum of God? A bit…oxymoronic, don’t you think?”
Her thin smile was tight. “God is a refuge for the—”
“I’ve read the book.”
Her smile widened, revealing her cigarette-stained teeth.
“Well then, that saves us time. Boys, take him to his room. Azrael,” she started when they went to turn me away, “if you hear screaming, those are just my three boys. While they did manage to escape, they also willingly came back early this morning.” She shrugged.
“Once God touches your heart, you’ll find it’s difficult to stay away. ”
Yes, well, I was never planning on being here long. I had never worked well with others, but perhaps it would do me well to play nice long enough to find out how her boys had done it so I could improve it.
Once I got out, Malachi would realize that there was no changing the chemicals we were born with. I was a monster, and I would be a monster until the day I died.