• I stood cold and wet from the night’s rain in front of Saint Jude’s cathedral while a crisp autumn wind blew over me. The grass shifted in all directions as the last of the light was leaving the horizon. I stared down at the hallowed ground of the church. I closed my eyes and listened to the heavy white oak doors open, groaning like two war laden soldiers. I felt my blood run cold down my left arm as the doors continued to beckon my entry. I opened my eyes and slowly began walking up the steps toward the church, each step growing heavier on my heart and body. My mind riddled with unquenchable memories of a past long since mine. A past that I feared I might soon return to. My legs became weak as my fear continued to solidify and upon the last step I fell, my knees caving in beneath me. I threw out my right hand and caught myself and with what little strength my arm had left I pushed myself up and began my march into the main hall of the cathedral. As I walked in Father Paul Kingsley grabbed me by my only good arm and held me in front of him. He looked over me with his blind eyes paying close attention to my face and then my bloody shoulder. His countenance grew stern and his brow wrinkled with frustration as he caught the scent of sulfur on my cloths.
    “What are you doing here Jacob? I told you not to come today.” He said “You Know what your coming here means?”
    "Yes, Yes I do," I said glancing back at the barren field I had just walked out of. “And apparently they know too.” I gave a small nod toward the field which was now swarming with those we call Collectors. Father Paul looked with amazement at the horizon behind me.
    I pushed him out of the way and continued to walk, finding my way into the center aisle of the chapel. I followed the narrow path made by the pews as I trudged by, my legs moving on their own without my consent. I came to the front alter and slowly began to look up. My eyes held back countless tears as I caught the shadow of an open casket. I looked up and stared with a peaceful hate at the lifeless corps of my wife sleeping blissfully inside, with a soft and gentle smile shining off her darkened face. I began to shuffle my way up the stairs, my feet and legs moving again without my control. My arm quaked and my legs wobbled with each step upward. I lost my footing on the third stair and with a grim euphoria I once again fell, landing on my left arm. I crawled with all the strength my right arm had, leaving a wide straight bloodstain on the carpet of the steps where my other arm dragged. Reaching the top, I slowly staggered to my feet and limped toward the casket, kneeling when I finally reached it. My tears could no longer be held back. I laid my head down on the coffin and wept, softly looking over the now cold and hallow corpse of my wife until I had no more tears to give up. Several hours passed but I remained in my place. Like a guard at his post keeping watch over what was left of my wife.
    Kneeling over the casket face down in the cold flesh of my wife I felt a dark presence wash itself over me. An odd wind blew my black hair out of my face. My body shook with a fear I had felt many times, but never from myself. I huddled to keep my fear from consuming me, watching as the darkness of the room began to collapse inward on itself and a form from the shadows began to take shape.
    "You of all God's creation should know that weeping over a corpse will not bring it back from death." A deep growl said from the darkness. "You know because you've seen enough people waist there lives away crying over loved ones. Haven't you, Jacob?"
    I had heard this voice before, and I rose from my kneeling to face the skeletal reaper before me.
    "Your theatrics gain you no merit Gazreal. I know why you're here." I said, slowly regaining what little composure I had left.
    The skeletal figure quickly melted away to reveal a soft and gentile face, white hair, pale blue eyes, and a grey pinstripe suit, his wings soundless, as they flapped behind him.
    "Your here for me I suppose. Well in that case, kill me; I know what must be done." I said, knowing well the fate that awaited me.
    "Is heaven really that bad, Jacob? Is it so bad up there that you have to spend all your time with these humans to feel any kind of joy?" Gazreal sarcastically smirked, his voice now sweet and soft.
    "Your kind wouldn’t know the hurt that I've felt for these loathsome humans. You will never know anything even close to the pain I endured. Your kind gets to send messages and inspire. I was the only one up there aside from The Father, with a real job to do, or do you forget the scriptures? Don’t you remember, The Flood, Sodom and Gomorrah, the first born of Egypt, should I continue the list? You couldn’t begin to imagine the sting of separating a mother from her child. Your kind could never handle the ache I have felt after ripping lovers from each other’s arms. You have never had to kill that which God loves most, you filthy two-wing! I have! And while your kind was assigned to attend to the sick or to watch over Christ while in the desert, I was the one who had to take his life on the cross!” I yelled facing downward and trying my best to stay standing. “The only difference is that he came back three days later. That was the only solace I could find those three days; the knowledge that he would be back. And what did your kind suffer? Nothing! You spend three days singing praises to him in paradise while I was forced to wait in his tomb.” Gazreal’s face grew angry, but he did not loose his temper.
    “My kind has had to endure quite enough since you’ve been gone. We have had to keep your true identity a secret from the other side, not to mention the dirty humans. If I wasn’t as obedient as I am I would call you by your real name and end it all now” Gazreal said regaining his smirk.
    "I will not be taken by a messenger so easily, Gazreal. You'll have to take me by force with or without the power of my name." I said.
    "That will not be necessary Jacob. I’m not here for you." he said fiddling with the cuffs on his suit.
    I stared at him in anger and confusion, my blood now boiling with rage as his words settled themselves into my ears.
    "What’s wrong Jacob, you didn't really think I was for you did you? You’re not dead yet, so why would I be here for you?" Gazreal laughed
    “You can’t do that.” I whispered. "You can’t do that. That was part of the deal that I would have to take them when I died, that the souls would wait and then I would take them!" I said my voice more harsh now.
    "Orders from the top Jake, you know as well as I do that you cant stop orders, especially not his orders" Gazreal was now standing next to the casket on the opposite side.
    "This is different Gazreal." I looked up at him from across the coffin trying to look solemn, but it wasn't working. My tears had cheated me. "She wasn't supposed to die. Not like this".
    "Lots of things weren't supposed to happen. Man being expelled from the Garden wasn't supposed to happen. The Golden one wasn't supposed to leave heaven and start his little war on The Father. You weren’t supposed to..."
    "What" I interrupted, "I wasn't supposed to what?"
    "You weren't supposed to be human Jacob!" Gazreal yelled. "You weren’t supposed to make your little deal. You know what kind of mess you caused. Both Heaven and Hell are out looking for you and only The Father is keeping your location safe from those who would kill you while in human form." Gazreal was circling the casket, keeping a tight grasp on the edge. I stared him down trying to read him, his all seeing eyes were motionless and his stance rigid, but his position was failing him and he loosened his grip on the coffin when he felt he was safe. He moved around, slowly until he was at my side, leaning weightlessly on the side of the casket.
    "So why are you really here Gazreal? Why did God really send you when I know full well that the deal was that I would return to my job as the Angel of Death when I died?"
    "I surely don’t know what you talking about Jacob" Gazreal said.
    “You know damn well what I'm talking about, you were sent to convince me to give up and go back" I said. I threw a punch having regained a little strength, hitting him in the chest. He flew back into the church’s large pipe organ sounding the pipes, but as an angelic being he didn’t break them. He landed in a crouched position and looked back up at me his face now wrinkled with a cold glare. He was angry but he knew that even as weak as I was, he was no match for me.
    "So you caught me Jacob, but just remember, you can't live forever" Gazreal said as he left in the way he arrived.
    As the shadows replaced themselves within the room, I could feel Father Kingsley's blind gaze meet strongly with mine. He was blind but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see. I walked down the steps toward the center aisle and sat down in the pew next to where Father Kingsley was standing. He sat down next to me and began to pray. I didn't blame him; after all he was a priest.