CHAPTER 3

The table was filled with all kinds of food—bacon, waffles, Italian sausage, three cheese omelets, and even cereal—that John had prepared for breakfast. It was positively the best breakfast Camilla had ever had and the best meal John had ever cooked. Camilla ate to her heart’s content, but John had the lion’s share. His new appetite came as a surprise to Camilla because she had never seen him eat that much. In fact, she never even remembered John as a cook. The last time he made breakfast for her was over four years ago when he nearly burned down his apartment. It was also John’s first attempt to impress her in a romantic way and after it backfired, he never tried again. Even though today’s breakfast was no such attempt, Camilla couldn’t help but notice that John was never going to be the same frail little man she once knew. She sat on the sofa with her coffee and inconspicuously admired him as they spoke.

“So, you’re telling me there is an angel living inside of your body right now?” Camilla asked.

“Yeah, his name is Ahadiel. He’s huge but nice,” John added.

“What does it feel like?” she questioned.

“Well, everything is sharper and clearer than before. Not like putting on a pair of glasses though—it’s more like looking at things through a microscope or telescope. And I can hear and smell everything too, and everything tastes so much better! It’s actually pretty weird,” John answered.

“Can you read minds? Ooh, what color am I thinking of?” Camilla joked.

“Blue,” he said as Camilla looked at him in wide-eyed amazement.

“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed.

“Cammy, I can’t read your mind. I knew that because it’s your favorite color,” he said with a laugh.

“Ha-ha very funny, but seriously what can you do?” Camilla asked.

“You know, I honestly don’t know. The One never told me.”

“The One?” she inquired.

“Oh, it’s what they call him . . . them, Jesus and the Father. The angels call them The One.”

“Makes sense,” she stated.

“You understood that?” he queried.

“Yeah, sure I did. I’ve been going to Bible study on Wednesdays.”

“Nice,” he said with a genuine smile.

“All kidding aside, this is the most unbelievable story I’ve ever heard.”

“But you believe me, right?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at you . . .”

She admired his new physique. In her mind it was like he had been cut from black stone.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Camilla said. “When was your last physical?”

“What?” responded a bewildered John.

“I want to run some tests to see exactly what you’re capable of. Come on, let’s go,” she exclaimed. She waited for John to get dressed in clothes that were clearly too small for him and hurried him out the apartment.

They arrived at her parents’ medical office, which was closed on weekends, except for emergencies; she had John wait in the patient waiting room. When she was ready for him, she called him back to the examination room while donning a white lab coat and a stethoscope. John chuckled at seeing his friend in a doctor’s coat that obviously belonged to her father, because it was too big for her.

“Don’t laugh, it’s for effect,” she said as she laughed with him.

“No, it looks good,” he replied.

“Okay . . . now take off your shirt.”

John looked at her dubiously and gave into her wishes. As he took off his shirt, she observed every newly acquired abdominal muscle that he possessed, making his stomach look like hills and valleys on a chocolate-skinned meadow. She ogled his pecks that were perfectly symmetrical—not bulky like a massive body builder.

His body now resembled a finely tuned athlete who was in peak physical condition. She kept staring until John cleared his throat and looked at her, which snapped her back to the reason she brought him here in the first place.

“First, I’m going to measure your new height and weight. Step on the scale.” She insisted and John obliged her because he was eager to see what his measurements were. “Okay, you are now 6’2”.”

“Whoa,” John said smiling.

“‘Whoa’ is right.” And you now weigh 223 pounds,” Camilla responded.

“Good lord, so I’ve grown almost a foot and gained over 100 pounds in one night. That’s got to be some kind of record.” John stated.

“I . . . I don’t know, John,” she said in disbelief.

Camilla applied the stethoscope to his chest to monitor his breathing and heart rate and noticed that both were normal. She measured his blood pressure and it was perfect. Next she gave him an eye exam and told him to step back and read the smallest line he could. So he walked down the long corridor as far as he could, which was about sixty feet from the Snellen Eye Chart and read the smallest line he could see.

“Snellen chart. Copyright 2013. Made in China,” John read aloud.

Camilla looked at the chart and wondered what line he was reading until she saw the tiny words written in a size smaller than the 20/10 line on the chart. She was stunned at his newly acquired visual acuity and whispered to herself how crazy she thought it was, to which John responded from sixty feet away, “Yeah, it is crazy isn’t it?” Which meant that John could also hear decibels that would barely cause a blip on a decibel measuring device.

Finally Camilla decided she should assess John’s stamina and strength, so she drove him to an abandoned junkyard in Jersey. Once there, John began lifting old cars and tried to find heavier ones that would push him to his limits. He never found one, so they moved on. He lifted cars and buses with one hand and tractor-trailers and trains with two.

Camilla was in complete awe as she watched him lift tons with the greatest of ease. She was more shocked that he said the heaviest objects felt like he was lifting no more than 100 pounds. His new senses and abilities were truly supernatural, and even though she couldn’t measure or discover all of his abilities, she knew that he had become something special and was destined for greatness.

John had wowed Camilla, albeit with his newfound supernatural abilities, but day was turning to twilight and they were close to ending their day of tests.

“I gotta say, John, you can do things that people only see in the movies . . . It’s really freaking me out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah . . . it’s just so hard to believe because . . . this is real life and people aren’t supposed to do what you can do. . . . And we haven’t even discovered if you can fly?”

“Only one way to find out”

“I don’t know, John”

“Well, I have an angel living inside me.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, angels can fly so maybe I can too.”

“But what if you can’t? It’s dangerous. You can get hurt.”

“No worries. I have superfast healing too,” he said climbing to the top of a junk pile.

“Yeah but you can’t heal if you’re dead . . . seriously this is reckless.”

Once John was at the top, the drop was much scarier than he had anticipated. Suddenly he was apprehensive. Then Camilla started making chicken noises.

“I thought you didn’t want me to jump.”

“Yeah . . . but you’re up there now!” she yelled back

Camilla only made louder chicken noises. John rolled his eyes playfully and climbed to the top of the pile. He looked down from the forty-foot pile and Camilla egged him on.

“JUMP, JOHNNY!”

John bent his legs and leapt from the pile and floated downward before falling really hard on the junkyard ground. John scraped his arms and hands and skinned his knees. Camilla rushed to his aide to check on his cuts, but his body was healing instantly. Camilla was in awe.

“Told ya.”

John shot up the pile again.

“Look, John, you don’t have to keep doing this. Maybe you can’t.”

“I can,” John said with a determination that she never knew he possessed.

John tried jumping into the air. He landed back on his feet and tried again. He jumped a little higher but came right back down until he heard a voice tell him to simply “think” fly. John stilled his heart and mind and thought about flying, and he slowly began rising into the air. He flew around the junkyard, trying not to bump into the crane and other objects. He was quickly becoming accustomed to the idea of flying.

Camilla looked up at him flying around, hardly believing what she was seeing. John made his way to where she stood and hovered above her. Camilla tried to say something, but nothing came out, however John found his voice.

“Don’t wait up.”

And he took off.

Pitch black darkness and endless, excruciating pain had become his reality for what seemed to be an eternity. Kenneth Rose couldn’t even think of a time when he wasn’t in perpetual anguish and darkness. Hell had transformed from a figment of imagination for people he considered to be weak and feeble to a place that was physical, with a foundation and rules. With each passing moment, the worms ate at whatever flesh they could find; when there was none, they sought bone. Even after they devoured his bones, they hungered still and ate at his soul. He wept, screamed, tried to sleep when the worms hunger seemed to be sated, and he even prayed when the worms began eating again.

He prayed for solace, for a reprieve, but mostly he prayed that Andrea, the wife he mistreated almost the entire time he knew her, wouldn’t find her way here. Maybe, just maybe, if God was listening he would find a way to reveal himself to her so that she would find him and be saved.

At least someone would be because he knew there was no one coming to save him, until one day he felt something that he hadn’t felt for a long time—movement on the outside of his coffin. He felt sand falling around it. He also began to feel the sensation of something being raised or dropped, but he couldn’t tell in which direction. Kenneth’s fear began to overtake the pain and the eternal darkness that lived with him in the coffin.

Before he was thrown into the casket the demons told him that his coffin was close to the Sea of Fire and that it had already claimed thousands of coffins and carried them off to sea. Dread gripped his heart, knowing that there were that many coffins filled with living souls dealing with the horror inside the coffins, coupled with being subjected to the worst torment that hell offered, the Sea of Fire. The thought that his coffin was next to suffer the same fate was unbearable.

With the movement of his coffin, he certainly knew that he was next and there was nothing he could do about it. Suddenly the movement stopped and he could hear voices outside. A strong, feminine voice dictated orders and another weak, masculine voice obeyed. He had not heard voices other than his own for quite some time. Soon the voices grew louder, clearer, and he heard a loud crack as the casket was opened.

Lilith and Ornias looked upon the unfortunate soul and what they saw was an all too familiar sight of a withered and tormented being. Kenneth was mostly all soul with very little bone and little to no flesh on his body. Though the hellish sun beat down on the desert, it felt like cool air after being trapped inside the coffin for so long. Lilith and Ornias spoke among themselves, but Kenneth only heard muffled voices because his ears hadn’t grown back. The full and lethargic chemaworms poured out of the coffin. Ornias picked some of the creatures up and tossed them aside, but one got away and slithered close to Lilith. She crushed its head.

“I can’t look,” Lilith said. “The sight of a tortured soul is always a disturbing one.”

“Really? I kind of like it. How come it doesn’t bother you when you disfigure others?” Ornias asked.

“Simple. I’m the one doing the disfiguring and I love to admire my handiwork, but enough talk. Can we move him?”

“No, he isn’t well enough. If we take him through a gate in this state, then he may be lost inside the portal. But if you’re desperate to move him, we can carry him,” Ornias replied.

But when Lilith gave a look that signified her disgust, he corrected himself.

“I mean I can carry him . . .”

“How long will it take for him to completely heal from his injuries?”

“With this amount of damage, it will take at least a full day or two.”

“A DAY?!” she yelled. “Surely demons on their routine patrol will discover what we’ve done.”

She thought for a bit and decided on their next move.

“Place the coffin back into the sands, cover it, make something to carry him, and let us begin walking before a patrol spots us,” Lilith commanded.

“Yes, mistress,” Ornias responded.

Ornias followed his orders and began crafting a gurney out of thin air using the power of his mind to create it. He crafted the wooden frames and even a cloth material to form a bed. He placed Kenneth on top of the gurney and Ornias used his mind to lift it. The three were ready to travel. Most demons in hell had not mastered this trick that came to them as second nature when they were angels. In heaven, crafting things from the mind was a power made possible by drawing power from the Holy Spirit to create. Anything that one could imagine could be crafted with practice; however in hell, the Holy Spirit was absent.

Creating anything took more practice, more patience, and more time because it required that a demon draw the power from their own spirit. Lilith mastered the technique eons ago, but what was the sense of having a slave if one didn’t take advantage of their presence? They hadn’t walked but 100 yards before Raum and Nicor, two demons on patrol, landed before them and accosted them.

“Well, what do we have here?” Raum asked.

“Lilith, how interesting it is to see you and your slave outside of your cave,” Nicor said.

“Hello, boys,” Lilith greeted the two ruggedly handsome human-looking spirits. They were tan-skinned with black hair. Raum sported a neat beard, but Nicor chose no facial hair. Both were strong and menacing, donning swords, and they worked well as a team. Their duties were to ferry souls to the Ottocom Desert to begin their eternal punishment. They frequently kept accurate counts of the guilty and could tell when a grave was disturbed. When they noticed a disturbed grave, they looked around and noticed two spirits traveling north and flew in to interrogate.

Both wore black robes with black bat wings to identify themselves as demons, differentiating themselves from the fallen angels that wore gray robes and black-feathered wings resembling those of a crow. Upon meeting the two demons, Ornias simply bowed low and tried to hide their precious cargo. However, Kenneth Rose was oblivious to what was happening and moaned and groaned periodically as his body was slowly but surely healing itself.

“Do you know that Raum and I keep an accurate count of the guilty in this desert?” Nicor said.

“And we can always tell when there is a disturbance in a grave site,” Raum followed.

“Do you know anything about a disrupted grave less than 100 yards south of here?” Nicor questioned.

“No, I do not. My slave and I were just admiring the view of the Sea of Fire. It’s actually quite beautiful until you realize that souls are being eaten alive by it every day,” Lilith answered.

“If you are going to play stupid, perhaps you should try it several miles away from where you just committed the crime,” Nicor said.

“Crime?”

“You should assume that we already know the truth of the matter,” Raum added.

“And that would be?” Lilith asked.

“THAT YOU STOLE FROM US. KENNETH ROSE IS OURS!” Nicor yelled and drew his sword and pointed it at Lilith.

“I’ve seen bigger,” Lilith smirked.

“If you give him back, then we will not tell General Deviat of your treacherous thievery,” Raum said hoping to avoid a confrontation.

Lilith sought an altercation from the moment they landed and was the first to attack. She drew her short sword and met Nicor’s weapon; she attempted a roundhouse kick in Raum’s direction, but he ducked and drew his sword. Ornias took the gurney and tried to move away from the fray. Lilith was graceful and deadly as she easily parried their advances and began to take control of the fight.

Nicor raised his arms to deliver a killing blow, but Lilith caught his arm and stabbed him in his chest twice before he knew what happened. Nicor fell to the sand, clearly hurt. Then she turned her attention to Raum, and as they fought she began pushing him toward the sea, hitting him in the face and body with elbows and knees while blocking every attempt he made.

Nicor rose slowly to help his partner and made his way toward the melee. Raum made a slashing attempt, but Lilith ducked and stabbed him in the neck; her sword went clean through to the other side. She removed it and her next strike landed in Raum’s eye. He screamed and Lilith let out a blood thirsty roar as the demon fell to the desert floor with her sword still in his eye socket.

Nicor’s war cry gave away how close he was, and Lilith turned around weaponless. She leaned to the side to dodge a stabbing attempt and then another. Nicor made a high-arching stabbing motion with his right arm and Lilith turned into him, grabbed his right wrist with her right hand, and in one continuous motion used his own momentum against him, plunging the sword deep into his chest as she moved away from his devastating blow.

Lilith grabbed his waist with her left hand and rushed him to edge of the Sea of Fire and threw him in. Nicor fell screaming into the beyond boiling liquid oil, sword sticking in his torso and out of his back as he swiftly submerged. She watched him until he vanished into the blackness and dusted her hands. She returned to finish what she started with Raum, who was now up and limping toward Ornias and Kenneth with the sword still in his eye. Before he could reach them, he suddenly burst into flames.

He screamed so loud that others would have heard, if he hadn’t been in the Ottocom Desert. He kept burning until his skin melted, then his muscles, next his bones, and then the rest of him until he was nothing but ashes that blew away in the desert wind. Lilith had finished Raum until he was a spirit floating without a body, and there was no telling how long it would take for his spirit to even begin building a new one.

With both witnesses dealt with, the only thing that was left from the battle was her sword in Raum’s eye socket lying in the sand. She grabbed the sword and the skull, and the three of them continued on the journey back to Lilith’s cave without further incident.

Early Sunday morning, John was ironing his shirt for church. Adjusting to his new body and powers was taking some getting used to, but he felt more and more comfortable every day, even though it had only been two days since his change. The knock on the door was none other than Camilla, and he was elated about seeing her for a third day in a row. They were going to accompany each other to church.

Breakfast wasn’t quite as lavish as yesterday’s, but it was still quite good. Camilla sat down and enjoyed it and turned on the news. The big story was the grand opening of the Freedom Tower. New York City had been constructing a new building since the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. They watched as the news showed footage from the ground and the air, including reactions from ecstatic New Yorkers celebrating the opening of a new landmark.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to see that building finally completed,” Camilla said.

“Yeah, I remember the attack like it was yesterday, but like New Yorkers, we always pull through.”

“So . . . are you going to tell me about it?”

“About what?”

“Flying! How was it?”

“In a word? It was incredible, exhilarating.”

“That was two . . .” She smirked halfheartedly. “I called you late last night but you didn’t pick up so I figured flying must really be something special.”

“It is.”

“Where’d you go?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“. . . I went to Dubai, then Rome, China, Hawaii, Mexico, and then I came home.”

“Impossible.”

“I can fly fast . . . I mean really fast.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Well, I left you late afternoon and didn’t get back home till three this morning.”

“You traveled the globe in under ten hours?”

“. . . Yeah . . .”

Camilla was at a total loss for words.

“Hey, I’ll be right back; nature calls.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Camilla continued to follow the live coverage as John answered nature’s call. Then one of the news helicopters showed a military tanker traveling down the West Side Highway. She called out to John who also came to watch. They both thought it was odd but assumed it was a part of the grand opening. The same news helicopter also picked up what appeared to be a military helicopter off in the distance.

Suddenly a missile was fired from the military chopper. It hit another news helicopter, and the whole sequence was captured on video! Simultaneously, the tanker also began firing on civilian cars. John and Camilla knew then that this was another well-planned terrorist attack on the city. The M1A/2 Abrams Battle Tank began riding over civilian cars. Some people were able to escape but others couldn’t. The AH-64 Apache also kept shooting missiles at nearby buildings and cars.

John knew that this was his first test. He didn’t really know what he was supposed to do, but he knew that he couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, just sit back and let whatever was happening continue to happen without his interference. He felt a tug in his heart and heard a calm still voice tell him to go to the roof of his building. When he ran out of his apartment and raced upstairs, Camilla followed him. Once there, he felt the strange inscription on his forehead begin to pulsate and glow.

Camilla was right behind him, wondering what was about to transpire. What she saw next left her astounded. The burning sensation was intense and John thought about his armor. Instantly the suit powered up and began growing on him almost robotically. It started at his chest and progressively covered his torso, waist, thighs, legs, and feet. His head and face were last. Then it was complete.

“Amazing,” Camilla whispered. She had never witnessed an event like this, and it was all very surreal.

John settled down and thought about flying and began to rise off the roof. Suddenly he was off. He looked back at Camilla who was getting smaller by the second as she waved good-bye before leaving the roof. John could see the Apache helicopter and noticed that it was on a trajectory course for the newly opened Freedom Tower. He didn’t know if that was the pilot’s intended course, but he slowly put two and two together, and it made the most logical sense to him.

He was next to the pilot’s window within seconds and knocked on the window of the helicopter and pointed downward, trying to give the terrorists a chance to end their madness. The pilot was completely astonished that there was a man outside his window. Of all of the terrorists’ contingency plans, none included dealing with a flying man. The pilot took out his pistol and emptied the clip in John’s face. John fell back toward the tail and punched a hole in the fuel tank.

The Apache began to plummet. As it did, he was caught by the rear spinning blades. There was a mini explosion at the collision, and he was thrown a bit. The pilot managed to steady the AH-64 and fired a final missile. The entire time John was busy trying to stop the craft, the pilot had locked onto the Freedom Tower and waited for a perfect moment to fire.

John looked at the rocket and followed its projected course. His assumption was confirmed. He also noticed that the pilot jumped from the chopper without a parachute. Obviously this was a suicide attack by both the pilot and the driver of the tank. John didn’t hesitate and flew straight down to the pilot and caught him about twenty feet from the ground.

The Apache crashed to the street just a moment later, crushing abandoned cars. John slowed his momentum very awkwardly but gathered himself and flew toward the missile. He followed the smoke trail and could see the distance was closing both on the collision and how close he was to catching it. He reached out to grab it and wrapped his hand around it.

Success!

He stopped the missile within fifty feet of the Freedom Tower and landed on the street, missile in hand. Most drivers with operational vehicles drove out of harm’s way, but there were still a bevy of destroyed cars lying in the middle of the street. John gave the terrorist to the NYPD officers on hand and dropped the missile at their feet. They watched without moving or saying a word. They were utterly amazed at what was happening in their city before their very eyes. And then John spoke to them.

“You guys got him?” John asked.

No answer.

“Hey . . . cop? Take him. I gotta go.”

Stunned faces. But the police sergeant did try to formulate words.

“Oookaaay,” and John walked off to deal with the Battle Tank. Just then the officer found his voice.

“Fr-Fr-Freeze!” But John had already left, leaving the terrorist and officers in wonder.

The police scattered and watched as this heroic, incredible, godlike being walked into imminent danger with an Abrams Battle Tank bearing down on him. The tank approached John and stopped about 40 feet in front of him. The main gun on the tank took aim at John and fired a direct shot. John dug his heels into the street and took the shot directly to the body, and the explosion surrounded him. The dust rose and set and the smoke began to clear.

John was standing tall. He did not even take a knee. He advanced on the tank and punched the front end and completely smashed it in. He then climbed onto the tank, grabbed the main gun along with the turret ring, and separated it from the hull. He softly tossed the main gun and grabbed the front of the tank and flew into the air about fifteen feet. John held the driver’s hatch upside down, and the driver fell out of the tank—shaken but relatively unharmed. John grabbed him and flew him to the police officer, where his accomplice sat in handcuffs with an array of guns trained on him.

When the whole ordeal was over, news reporters, pedestrians, and even police officers surrounded him. John was swamped by the flashing lights of the cameras, video cameramen rolling their continuous live feed, and reporters asking him 100 questions at once.

“Who are you?” asked one female reporter.

“Seraph,” was his answer. And then he bent his knees and flew into the sky, leaving the crowd of people shocked and awed by what they had all just witnessed.

Kenneth healed nicely over thirty-six hours. Bone grew; flesh, muscle, sinew, and other tissue grew around it. His skin had completely regenerated, and he even had hair on his head and chest. He appeared to be a young, fit athlete, as he was in his college days, instead of the overweight middle-aged man he was when he died. Although he had physically recovered, the mental, emotional, and spiritual toll on his psyche was significant due to the never-ending torment he endured during his time in hell.

His ordeal left him exhausted, and he slept peacefully without torture and pain for the entire time he was rescued. He didn’t know that his rescue was almost short-lived, had Lilith not been able to dispatch Nicor and Raum. But they were dispatched and Kenneth was sleeping like a baby.

Ornias watched over him, but not out of love or care. He was simply protecting their investment until Lilith got back. Suddenly a bright red glare appeared from around the rocks, coming from the mouth of the cave, and Ornias could hear footsteps. This was either going to be a good thing or a bad thing. He reached over to grab an old rusted sword Lilith left lying around and prepared for whoever was coming. When he finally saw who it was, his heart stopped racing. The beautiful Lilith had come around the corner.

“And what do you intend to do with that?” Lilith asked glaring at Ornias who was standing there with sword in hand.

“I’m sorry, mistress. I thought it might be someone else.” Ornias answered letting the sword down.

“How is he doing?” Lilith inquired.

“Well, he’s been sleeping the entire time you’ve been gone . . . Where did you go?” Ornias probed.

“I don’t see how any of that is your business.”

Ornias looked dejected by her response.

“I’ve been to and fro, on earth and heaven, if you must know,” Lilith responded.

“Heaven?”

“Yes . . . I went to see The One.”

“Why?”

“. . . Because sometimes I like to see my Father,” Lilith snapped. “. . . wake him.”

“Yes, mistress.” Ornias obeyed and woke the slumbering man.

When Kenneth Rose awoke he saw the two demons and screamed loudly. Ornias tried covering his mouth with his hand but Kenneth bit him. Ornias struck the man’s face with his talons out of anger, and Kenneth screamed again and tried to get away. Kenneth looked at Lilith, and his attraction to her stopped him dead in his tracks. Ornias moved in to punish Kenneth, but Lilith raised her hand, and he made no further advances.

“Kenneth Rose. Do you know where you are?” Lilith spoke.

Kenneth looked around and all he could see was the faint red glare of the candles and rock. He appeared to be in a cave of some kind and he answered her accordingly.

“Yes, but do you know where?” She pressed further.

Which led Kenneth to shake his head no, she then instructed him to sit and he acquiesced. Ornias was also commanded to sit and he obeyed his mistress while keeping a watchful eye on Kenneth.

“Where am I?” Kenneth asked.

“This is hell. You are presently under my protection as long as you remain inside my cave and prove your usefulness to me,” Lilith said getting right down to business.

“Who are you?”

“This is my slave Ornias, and I am Lilith, your mother.”

“My mother? My mother’s name is Diane Middleton,” he responded.

“Of course it is, and I am her mother too. I am mother to every man, woman, and child on earth for I was the first woman,” she answered.

“What? Wait, I thought it was some chick named Eve,” Kenneth asked skeptically.

“That is what many would have you believe. But I was the first created woman, and I gave birth to the first human child,” Lilith countered.

“Okay . . . why are you telling me this?” he queried.

“Because I love my children. All of them, and one in particular, are in great danger.”

“What does that have to do with me? I’m stuck in hell. How can I help anyone? Furthermore, why would I help anyone?”

“Considering who it is and how harshly you treated them, it would behoove you to help me or I’ll personally find a punishment worse than the one you’ve endured for so long,” Lilith threatened with fire brewing in her hands.

“Alright, I’ll help; please don’t hurt me,” Kenneth cowered.

“That is more like it, coward,” she responded.

“Who is it?”

“Andrea Lewis-Rose.”

“My wife?” he asked shaken.

“She is no longer your wife, swine,” Ornias interrupted.

“Relax, Ornias,” Lilith said with a grin.

“What’s wrong with her?” Kenneth asked.

“Some very evil demons have conspired against her, and they seek to kill her and drag her down to hell.”

“WHAT? NO! SHE CAN’T COME HERE!” he yelled.

“She most certainly will be brought down here if you cannot help us convince her to leave Wilsonton, Kansas.”

“Wait, how can you help when you’re here in hell with me? Aren’t you demons?”

“You impudent human,” Ornias exclaimed. “How dare you speak to Lilith, your rescuer, in such a manner?” Ornias rose to strike him.

“Ornias, keep calm and sit down. It is a fair question. We are here as secret angels. I believe they are called spies where you are from. We saved you from your torturous coffin; would a demon save you from anything here?” Lilith spoke with assurance.

“I suppose not,” he said and believed.

“If Satan ever found out what we’ve done, we would have to escape back to heaven where we are from. But we came here to rescue you so that you could tell us how to best save Andrea. And in return, I was assured that you’d be given a reprieve from your punishment and allowed to enter heaven,” Lilith said confidently.

“REALLY? I COULD GO TO HEAVEN?” Kenneth hoped.

“Yes . . . so will you help us?” she responded.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked.

“Excellent, all you must do is tell us about Andrea. What would make her want to leave Kansas so the demons cannot find her?” Lilith pressed.

“I’ll do anything to protect my wife, I mean Andrea,” Kenneth replied.

“That is good, very good,” Lilith said smiling.

“Okay, when she was younger she wanted to be a model and an actress, and she could’ve been; she was very beautiful. She still was, even when I died. . . . She likes luxury, cars, homes, money. She loves kids and her favorite color is yellow. Do you need to know more?”

“No, my son, I’m so very proud of you. You have done more than enough. This will be so very helpful and I will definitely tell The One about your complete cooperation in helping us protect Andrea. Ornias prepare to leave at once.”

“Wait, is that all?” Kenneth questioned.

“For now. Yes,” Lilith said.

“Is there any way I can give her a message?” he wondered.

After thinking about whether she would allow him to contact Andrea, she had Ornias give him an orb. “This is a messaging orb,” Ornias said. “Simply hold it and speak to it, and it will record your message. I will show it to Andrea.”

“Thank you . . . May I have some privacy?” he apprehensively asked.

“You may use my private bedroom chamber,” Lilith replied. “Come out when you are done.”

Kenneth entered Lilith’s private chamber. It was enormous, beautiful, and elegant, yet dark and reminded him of earth. Many things she had in her chamber were things that reminded her of her short time on earth as a human. The massive room, just through the door, was a deep chasm where an assortment of creatures lived. Some flew, others grazed, and a few played, but most rested.

Her chamber had the feel of a dark jungle. Flowers, plants, bushes, and small trees thrived under a fireball that spun in the ceiling of the fissure. He marveled how something so beautiful could exist in a place inhabited by billions of tortured souls. Then he remembered why he was in the chamber in the first place and began recording.

“Andrea, it’s me, Kenneth. The first thing I want to say is sorry. I’m sorry for the way I treated you and for how long I treated you that way when the only thing you wanted to do was love me. I’m sorry for keeping you from your dreams and for killing our unborn child. I was wrong in so many ways, and I’ll never be able to make it up to you, but at least I am going to try.

“Lilith and Ornias are angels, and you should trust them. They can guarantee your safety if you go with them. You are in a lot of danger and demons are trying to kill you and bring you down to hell where I am. . . . I don’t want you to come here. It is the worst place imaginable. I am being tortured day and night. It never ends. Just constant pain and anguish.” He began crying. “There have got to be millions, no, billions of people being tortured here even as I speak to you. We’re all crying and filled with dread.

“THERE IS NO HOPE HERE. . . . NO HOPE. PLEASE DON’T BE FOOLED INTO COMING HERE. THE DEVIL IS REAL, I’VE SEEN HIM, AND HE WAITS FOR ANY SOUL FOOLISH ENOUGH TO REJECT GOD,” he screamed. “But I’ve also seen Jesus. He is real too. And he wants to love us. He died for us and rose from the grave. I believe that now, but it is far too late for me. Far too late. But it is not too late for you. . . . Please listen to Lilith and Ornias and escape my fate. I’m sorry and I love you. God bless you and good-bye.”

Kenneth finished his message and gave the orb to Ornias, who lied about giving it to Andrea. Lilith told him to stay in her private chamber because no one knew of its existence, and it would offer him protection. She also told him not to venture outside the cave under any circumstances. After he promised her he wouldn’t, she made a gate to earth and they stepped inside. Kenneth was left in Lilith’s cave all alone.

Camilla sat glued to the six o’clock news as continuous footage of the attack and the mysterious hero was shown by every major network. Seraph had instantly become a global phenomenon. The news showed the attack over and over again, and there was more video rumored to be synonymous with the new hero. The news began showing a video that was captured by a smartphone and placed on a very popular video site. The video had gone viral and it was of man stopping a taxi cab with his bare hands and then running off before anyone could identify him. John watched as well, but he wasn’t as interested as Camilla was. The news story brought assumptions of the origin of this new hero.

Pedestrians were questioned and offered their opinions. Some thought he was an alien; others believed he was a guardian angel. And a small number of people believed he was a government science experiment and that the whole attack was staged by the government as part of a conspiracy—especially when the apprehended terrorists happened to be Americans.

Camilla and Seraph got a kick out of the assumptions people made, but it was clear from a pedestrian poll that ninety-one percent of the people loved him. Seven percent were on the fence, and the other two percent either were apathetic or disliked him altogether.

Camilla loved Seraph, and the things he was able to do, and couldn’t wait to see him do more. As she watched the news from John’s cramped apartment, she noticed some things that she hadn’t before. His brown eyes, his broad shoulders, his ripped muscles, his New York accent, and even his scent were suddenly attractive to her. She was amazed that despite having the same scent he always had, it smelled better than ever. While she was always quite fond of his personality, she never loved him romantically and was never drawn to him sexually. This enabled their friendship to blossom easily. But now, she found herself feeling in ways she had never felt about her best friend. She was falling in love with him and she knew it.