ARCHANGEL Read online

  ARCHANGEL

  by

  Bernard Lee DeLeo

  *****

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Bernard Lee DeLeo

  ARCHANGEL

  Copyright © 2011 by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  *****

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. Please respect the author’s work.

  Chapter 1

  Abaddon

  “Do you feel it, Michael?”

  The illusory figure halted reluctantly from speeding through space and time, soaking in majestic colors incorporated by the varying continuum. Unmoving now in star clustered space, the being called on as Michael allowed reality to flow over him. A valiant, biblical form of the Archangel Michael shimmered solidly into view. He sensed amusement in the being responsible for stopping the Archangel’s flight.

  “What amuses you, Gabriel?”

  A matching figure of angelic majesty materialized: the Archangel Gabriel.

  “These forms you enjoy so much.” Gabriel gestured around them with a flourish, his wings expanding on the gesture as he moved. “We have no need of them, yet you revert to the form as if you are clinging to some childish memory.”

  “If you have no need of form, my friend, why bother communicating at all?”

  “Please don’t give me your how many angels can dance on the head of a pin comment,” Gabriel replied wryly. “It was merely an innocent observation.”

  Michael nodded, having traded these familiar barbs countless times.

  “Yes, I felt it,” Michael said finally. “All is not right on lowly Earth again, so ripples of frustration eat away at the very fabric of existence. As to these forms I supposedly adore, if you have something better in mind why not express yourself? We fought in these forms. Our power can only be manifested while in these forms.”

  “He needs you back, Mike.”

  “Are we still allowed our private thoughts?”

  “Of course,” Gabriel answered impatiently. “He has never broken his vow. Why would you ask such a thing?”

  “Because each time his favorite makes headway down on humanity’s cesspool, all reality is suddenly at risk. He should send Raph down as he did when Asmodeus decided to start killing off all the suitors of… ah… what was the human’s name…”

  “Sarah, and you know very well what her…”

  “I know,” Michael cut him off with a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, he should send Raphael to clean things up.”

  “He did,” Gabriel stated quietly, his words like a whisper of something incomprehensible. “Lucifer is not the favorite by the way.”

  “His name means light,” Michael repeated the refrain he always invoked when speaking of the fallen angel. “Does your name mean light? Mine either.”

  “Get over yourself.”

  “There is no self to get over,” Michael smiled for the first time, and then his smile vanished. “What did you mean he sent him?”

  “Ah, you did hear that, did you?”

  “Don’t play games. What happened to Raph?”

  “The angel of light bound him as if he were some little cherub, hanging on a Christmas wreath. It seems our earthbound brother has managed to eke out a power base amongst the teeming billions of souls who keep reaching for the dark side he dangles out in front of them as if it were the chalice of heaven.”

  Michael shrugged. “Our Father could crush him.”

  “You know he won’t do it. It’s not his way.”

  “Well, maybe it should be,” Michael hinted for the billionth time.

  “He won’t ask but he needs us.” Gabriel ignored Michael’s time worn rebuttal.

  “If Lucifer has Raph, we can’t afford another loss. What caused this facedown?”

  “A woman he has great plans for. What do you mean another loss?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” Michael replied sharply. “Lucifer was our match when he was sent down the first time at a staggering cost. You may entertain selective memory of how this all started. I don’t. We had our celestial butts kicked. Now you tell me he bound Raphael, thereby siphoning off his power. I…”

  “You bound him the first time, Mike. You can…”

  “Forget it,” Michael cut him off angrily. “We both know I wasn’t the one who cast Lucifer down. If not for him, whose name we cannot mention, Lucifer would have wiped us out of existence, including you horn-blower.”

  “There is no reason to get nasty, my brother,” Gabriel admonished.

  “I’m only trying to remind you of reality, Gabe.”

  “Will you come with me? Cascading through the continuum because you wish to avoid what you sense to be...”

  “I’ll go with you,” Michael interrupted, resignation plain in his features.

  * * *

  Instantly, the two Archangels stood on the grass of a familiar breathtaking vista they knew as their Creator’s simple house - an encapsulated panorama of blue skies, wispy white clouds, gentle waterfalls flowing into threads of streams and small lakes, with mountains and greenery ablaze with flowers and rainbows. In the midst of this heavenly pageantry a Shepherd tended his small flock, walking amongst them in white robes and sandaled feet. Michael and Gabriel exchanged knowing looks.

  The Shepherd approached the Archangels with his hands out in greeting, his bearded countenance crinkled into a welcoming smile. He clasped their hands in his, each for but a moment. The celestial Seraphim felt the touch of their Creator rocket through them with a sense of well-being so intense the two fell to their knees in exaltation.

  “Welcome, my sons,” the Shepherd said simply, pulling his stunned Archangels to their feet. “It has been far too long since last we spoke.”

  “We felt your sadness, Father,” Gabriel whispered. “You have lost Raphael.”

  “No, Gabriel.” The Shepherd sat down in the meadow, gesturing with a hand. “Raphael is not lost. Please, sit with me for a time, my sons.”

  The two Archangels sat down clumsily on the gnarled wooden bench which sprang up near them.

  “It is true I sent Raphael to answer the fervent prayer I could no longer ignore. The blackness of my fallen son hid his intentions from me,” the Shepherd admitted with a slight tremor coming into his voice. “I will not remake existence, nor will I allow this darkness to overcome the Earth. You came, Michael, though I feel in you doubt. What troubles you?”

  “Father.” Michael met the Lord’s eyes steadfastly. “I led your hosts against Lucifer once. We left to do battle against the hordes corrupted to Lucifer’s fold unafraid. With Gabriel and Raphael on each side of me we swept down upon the angel of darkness. Our blinding light which was heaven’s host broke on the anvil of Lucifer’s wretched minions. They pursued us in our ignoble retreat to the gates of heaven. The bright shining host I led was in disillusioned ruin. If not for…”

  The Lord held up his hand, stopping Michael instantly. “It was not your failure, my son. If not for your leadership I would have lost the host completely. If not for the bravery of my Archangels the entire host would have been destroyed. I underestimated the malevolence because I loved Lucifer so much.”

  “Please, Father, let me finish,” Michael begged, with Gabriel shifting uneasily next to him.

  The Lord nodded his acquiescence without speaking.

  “If not for he who cannot be named, whom you did not send with us at first, Lucifer would have triumphed.”

  “You may speak of my son, Abaddon. I asked you and the others to erase him from your thoughts because I did not wish to contaminate the very fabric of heaven. I know now the time has come when I can no longer allow my weakness concerning Lucifer to blind me.”

  “
Thank you, Father,” Michael gasped in joy at the words, kneeling and covering the Creator’s hands with his own. “I must speak then of my brother, Abaddon, conjured to face the fury of Lucifer as he met your retreating host at the brink of destruction. His fury turned Lucifer’s hordes as no other power but your own could.”

  Gabriel pitched to his knees next to Michael in his fervor, reaching to cover Michael’s hands with his own. “We acceded to your wishes never to tell you of what transpired, Lord. We had been cut to ribbons. As the horde poised screaming in triumph for the final assault, Abaddon leapt among them. He raced past us into their ranks with ferocity we could not even grasp. We all carried the swords and shields of heaven. Our weapons were as feathers in the wind until Abaddon struck.”

  “The rebels fell before him. No blow from their horde could stop him.” Michael’s face glowed in remembrance of the battle for heaven itself. “A roar of fury grew amongst Heaven’s host. We charged into the midst of the fallen behind Abaddon to die or live at his example. We drove the horde back until Lucifer himself had to take part. I met him on the battlefield. In the instant my sword touched his, I knew I was lost. Still, I battled on until…”

  “Lucifer defeated you,” the Shepherd broke in, disbelief evident in his bell like voice. “Lucifer’s darkness had hidden everything from me until I heard the cries of my vanquished host. In haste to save my children I forged the Angel of the Abyss, my Abaddon. I could not bear to look upon the work of my avatar until the end. I did not know I almost lost you, Michael.”

  “I was gone, Father. Lucifer swung the killing blow. Out of nowhere Abaddon struck aside Lucifer’s sword. I looked into Lucifer’s eyes when he faced Abaddon. They were as if forged from the same mold but Abaddon fought with a merciless intensity Lucifer could not match. The hordes and your host stopped in the midst of battle. The blows struck by Lucifer and Abaddon rocked the foundation of reality. Lucifer fell at Abaddon’s feet, flinging away his sword and clasping his hands in supplication, begging for mercy. Abaddon looked upon Lucifer with a visceral hatred I recognized at once as the ingredient missing from the rest of us. We could not hate. Abaddon struck at Lucifer with a blow to sweep the Dark One from existence, only to be stilled by your hand, Father. In your mercy, Lucifer was spared.”

  “Not so, Michael. You sensed everything correctly except that. It was disappointment in Lucifer and the loss of so many which fired the fury of what I created in Abaddon. Lucifer’s pathetic cries as he begged for what he refused to give convinced me I could not allow darkness to end. I realized the fabric of what I intended to weave must contain shadow as well as light. Now in my ignorance of Lucifer’s dark soul I mistakenly sent Raphael to set right what was far beyond his scope of power.”

  “Let us go and ask your avatar to return, Father.” Michael bowed his head before the Lord.

  “You have been with him, Michael?” The Lord asked.

  “We all have visited him, Father,” Gabriel answered for Michael. “We did not want to hurt you but as Michael explained, we would not exist except for him. Raphael visits him often. He will take it very hard if Lucifer has destroyed Raphael.”

  “Raphael is unharmed. Lucifer holds him hostage against me. Please ask Abaddon to come to me here.”

  “Father.” Michael raised his head. “Could you not ask him yourself?”

  “He has the small touch of shadow within him which allows my son to block his thoughts from me,” the Creator admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “He must be very bitter at how I treated him as he sought to do what I created him for.”

  “Abaddon’s face glows when he asks after you, Father. If ever a prodigal son existed who had sought only to appease rather than rebel, it is Abaddon. He never mentioned the battle again. He passes his time without luxury or manifestation of divine power. Abaddon abides in his own private hell. We will go and bring my brother forth to meet with you, my Lord.”

  “Why does he punish himself so, Michael?” The Lord seemed surprised at Michael’s declaration. “I never meant to harm him.”

  “Yet Father, you withheld your face from his vision,” Gabriel added gently.

  The Lord remained silent, his sadness palpable. After many moments, he bid his Archangels rise with him from the meadow ground. He gestured at the vista around him.

  “Lucifer gave me this when he stood at my side. He had such vision. I could feel the hatred Abaddon felt at the moment he held Lucifer’s life force in his hands. In my denial of reality, I have allowed more than the color of darkness. I have allowed the perversion of light. No longer will I abide the imbalance Lucifer strives for. Go now, my sons. I would be alone for a time until I meet with Abaddon.”

  In the instant of thought, the Archangels were transported to their exact location when first they decided to seek out the Lord.

  “I should have spoken on behalf of Abaddon long ago,” Michael remarked.

  “Now who denies reality?” Gabriel smiled. “Remember, even when we have visited our brother, we were never able to mention his name out loud. It is as if a barrier has been lifted. Let us go now and find Abaddon.”

  “Does he still reside in that Earth setting Raphael manifested for him as a joke?” Michael remembered the bleak place Abaddon had adopted as his home.

  “Yes, I feel it is so,” Gabriel acknowledged, concentrating for a moment. “As you say, Raph meant it as an amusement but once within the manifestation Abaddon embraced it happily. He embraces Earth-bound misery almost as much as Raph.”

  “Raphael finds it interesting. He does not envelope himself in it. Are you ready?”

  Gabriel nodded. Instantly the two Archangels stood in the midst of a mine, the only light cast from a coal oil lantern suspended from the main beam. Dust hung in the filthy air as if in suspended animation. A huge figure, his clothes and face smeared in black soot, straightened from where he had been swinging a huge sledgehammer into the rock wall. His light blue eyes literally gleamed in the lantern light as he turned to face the Archangels. With a welcoming smile of recognition he threw down his tool and held out his hands. As Michael and Gabriel grasped his extended hands the blackened figure cried out in reverent delight.

  “You have been with him, my brothers,” Abaddon stated with joy. “I feel his touch as if he clasped my hands himself.”

  “He wants you to meet with him,” Gabriel said. “Come with us now.”

  “I…I cannot.” Abaddon pulled away from the Archangels. He grasped his sledgehammer handle, twisting it in his hands uneasily. “Please brothers let us speak of something else.”

  “Your exile is over, Abaddon,” Michael stated. “You are needed.”

  Abaddon looked disbelievingly at Michael. “It has been eons since last my name passed your lips.”

  “Why do you abide in this hellhole, Abaddon?” Gabriel asked. “Raphael was merely having fun with you when he conjured this place. It has been centuries since we found you anywhere else. Have you not tired of this poor attempt at humor?”

  “I lose myself here,” Abaddon admitted. “I believe Raph knew this place would suit me, even though as you say, he gets much amusement from finding me here. He tries now to show me all manner of ridiculous places the humans create, but I am content with this artifice. It is good to hear you both speak my name.”

  “Lucifer intends to move against heaven again,” Michael explained. “He siphons the fuel for his unholy ambition from the teeming masses of Earth’s human spawn.”

  “What is that to me?” Abaddon swung a blow with his sledgehammer which disintegrated the entire wall, ending the illusion. “Our Lord does not wish Lucifer stopped or he surely would have allowed me to finish him long ago instead of banishing me.”

  Michael and Gabriel moved involuntarily back. All manner of manifestation dissolved around them until only Abaddon remained with his brothers in the blackness of space. The two Archangels, resplendent in radiant white light, retreated apprehensively from the formidable creature before them now.


  “Do not fear, brothers. It has been a long time since you saw me in my true form. I did not mean to startle you. Some thoughts dispel my illusions. Unfortunately I may need Raph to help me get them back. I am not as imaginative as he.”

  Michael and Gabriel looked at their brother in awe. Abaddon, encased in silvery armor, the shining shield of heaven lashed across his back, glanced down at the sword in his hand. The massive Abaddon gripped the handle familiarly in his huge hands. He moved the blade longingly from side to side. Muscles rippled in his bared arms with each movement. Shining black wings spread out behind his shoulders. Abaddon’s dark visage, scarred by thousands of demon thrusts parried at the last moment was bordered by a thick mane of jet-black hair. The feeling of uneasiness in his brothers’ thoughts woke the Lord’s Avatar from his reverie. Abaddon sheathed his sword, clasping his hands in front of him peacefully.