The angel and the man (Short story)

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The angel and the man had blood on both their hands.

Not the metaphorical kind of blood, when you’ve done something naughty behind closed doors and now you felt guilt. No, it was the sticky, red, normally pouring through the veins of humans kind of blood.

The angel had spent enough time in the human world to learn that everything belonged to someone. He would have liked to feign ignorance, and wonder to whom the blood could belong, but the still warm body sitting on the floor was kinda giving it away.

He’d been taught to give back whatever wasn’t his, but he wasn’t really sure it would do much good in this situation.

His protégé was mumbling to himself, shock and terror taking turns in his eyes as he tried to wish the murder away through sheer willpower.

“I’m a murderer…” he mumbled to himself.

The angel slapped him. He slapped him hard. It was a long time coming.

“Get yourself together”, he said coldly. “And wipe the blood off your face”.

He had a lot to think about in a very short time. Why hasn’t Heaven sent someone already? They see everything, all the time. He would just wait for them to come, and then he’d find some sort of appropriate explanation and everything would be all right.

NOBODY IS WATCHING, the croaky voice resounded through the walls. You see, one would normally require a tongue and a rather complex apparatus to speak.  This was not the case here.

“You freak stop scaring me like that”, the angel responded, startled by the apparition of Death. “What did you do? Why isn’t anyone here yet?”

I DID NOTHING. IT SEEMS NO ONE IS PAYING ATTENTION UP THERE.

If anyone knew how to use silence in a dramatic, poignant way, it was Death.

THE QUESTION IS, WHAT WILL YOU DO.

“It’s obvious. I have to report this. This is what I have to do”.

INDEED.

Angels are raised to understand obedience. Obedience of the law, obedience of hierarchy and of all that is holy. You just didn’t disobey if you were part of Heaven. The history of people who did it painted a gruesome picture of the consequences: the first humans were exiled from heaven, Lucifer got his wings ripped out and then flung down to the depths of hell. He had to obey.

“I mean, it’s not like there is any other choice”, the angel continued.

THERE ISN’T. YOU’VE TRIED YOUR BEST, REALLY.

“I did try my best! I did…”

For a moment there was more silence. If only that silence could feel like eternity, but it never does when you truly need it. Time was certainly not on his side, whatever was keeping the Eye of God from prying on the situation was not going to bless him with a siesta.

“I mean, then again, what you don’t know can’t hurt you, right?”

I KNOW A FEW PEOPLE WHO WOULD DISAGREE WITH THAT. IF THE DEAD CAN DISAGREE, OFF COURSE.

“Like, it’s not like you feel the need to tell anyone about this, right?”

OH, YOU MEAN… KEEP IT SECRET?

“Yes! Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

INTERESTING IS CERTAINLY AN APPROPRIATE WORD FOR THE SITUATION.

“That’s it, then. Let’s see how that would work out. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a body to dispose of”, the angel clapped his hands, glad to come to a decision. A decision that seemed incredibly bad and he was quite sure he would regret it, but for some obscure reason he thought it was the right thing to do in the circumstance.

I’VE ALREADY DONE MY BIT.

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