Gabriel's Story - 24 Nov 2019

Abaddon trailed Agares by a respectful distance as the Prince of Hell walked with purpose towards the church his Captain had just left. The junior kept a wary eye on his master as he was known to rage without warning and punish the nearest subordinate on a whim. It was never a devil from the lowest rung receiving his wrath but one nearer to Agares’ status, as if he held a form of respect for those who worked in the trenches – or a healthy distrust for those vying for his place. It was this eye for his master that kept him safe when Agares turned the corner and nearly came to a stop.

As for Agares, he slowed his pace dramatically when he turned the corner between the Dollar Store and the Ten Cities Church of the Nazarene. Standing alone in the middle of the street in all his majesty and splendor was the most beautiful angel the Prince of Hell had ever seen. As high ranking as Agares was in the bowels of Hell, there were Principalities and Powers, and even a few of God’s angels he had never crossed. This one he knew, but had only actually met once in his trans-millennial existence. He approached slowly and attentively, hand on his scythe, examining every inch of the beautiful creature for a weakness he could exploit or a flaw he could use in a confrontation with the perfect being.

He found none.

The angel stood barefoot with his golden robe and platinum locks flowing in an ethereal breeze created by his own angelic power. There was no wind, but it didn’t matter because angels weren’t affected by Earth’s physical laws. His wavy, shoulder length hair framed a beautiful, perfectly formed face. His high cheekbones and strong jawline made Agares jealous, his own features rough, torn by more battles than he could remember. The being’s perfect complexion and olive-toned skin punctuated his exotic look, in even more perfect contrast against the particular gold tone of his robes.

Agares approached slowly, cautiously as he searched for anything he could use in a confrontation. The being wasn’t massive, like Michael. Where the Archangel towered above all other angels with a physique that would dwarf this earth’s most powerful bodybuilders, this angel was demure, even slight. Agares found his appearance almost erotic, his strong yet sinewy frame more apt for a model on a French runway than a spiritual stronghold. He stood effortlessly, arms and legs exposed in the relentless ethereal wind. He didn’t wear a sword or any weapon that Agares could see. Instead he held a staff of gnarled wood in his left hand and a book as old as time in his right. The aged leather of the book and imperfect twisting of the wood further punctuated the perfection in his beauty.

Agares stopped a few feet from away. The Prince was greeted silently as the angel turned his perfect head slowly towards him and bore eyes black as the darkest night and cold as depths of space deep into Agares, almost in pity. Frozen in place, Agares realized for the first time that he was alone. Abaddon and his battalion had retreated to the shadows. When the being turned to face Agares his perfect beauty appeared less inviting. His features turned cold as ice and hard as granite. The ethereal wind ceased and all sound was drowned out when he spoke. His voice was all at once as loud as thunder, yet as quiet as a whisper. In it Agares was overwhelmed by the texture, reminding him of rushing water. Though he spoke but a single word, the weight that it carried brought the Prince to his knees.

“Agares.”

The Prince of Hell found no strength in his legs as he collapsed to his hands and knees, trying desperately to not fall completely prostrate, powerless against the soulless creature. His own name spoken by this perfect creature burned in his ears like fire from Hell’s seventh level and he was compelled to respond. Ashamed at his weakness, Agares’ voice paled in comparison. He was overcome with supernatural fear and reminded of his place in eternity. He had no choice but to respond.

“Lucifer, my king.”

He was frozen, turned to stone by the presence of perfect evil, allowed only to speak exactly what the Angel of the Morning wanted to hear. “How may I serve you?”

*** ~~~ ***

Sean and Gabriel knew they weren’t alone. The angels who were usually masked in the shadows emerged, swords drawn and radiating with holy fire. They looked to the door in time to see Agares fall to his knees in the street with no apparent cause. The world around them fell silent. The wind ceased. Birds stopped singing. There were no dogs barking, no cars moving – no sign of life. It was as if time stood still. Gabriel looked to his left, down the hallway that led to the Sunday school classrooms and found angels, innumerable, advancing towards him. He glanced into the sanctuary to find every row occupied, every space filled, every rafter manned by angels of every size, shape and color. The beauty of the rainbow paled in comparison to the colors in that room, and he was in awe. In front of him, the church foyer darkened. Gabriel realized no angel stood in front of him, nobody lined the foyer as the darkness advanced. Still he wasn’t scared.

He was calm.

*** ~~~ ***

Lucifer turned his head towards the church and his carefully constructed perfection shattered. Agares watched as Satan assumed his now-preferred form. His golden locks morphed into jet black. His olive skin took on a reddish hue, turning his cheekbones and jawline into hard angles. His robes fell away and dissolved into the pavement as his scepter morphed into a snake. The book in his hand remained unchanged, though, and Agares knew at once he was seeing the Book of the Dead for the first time, and perhaps for the last. Completely naked, Satan looked nothing like the beautiful angel he had once been and more like the devil in most childrens’ stories and bad TV shows. He didn’t have horns or a forked tail, but he was a fearsome sight.

“Go. Join the others. Legion is waiting for you to strike the death blow against the praying woman, if you can.” The jeer dug deep into Agares and may have crushed his soul, if he had one.

“Yes, my king.” Agares headed in pursuit of Cathy, less flying and more being propelled by the Devil’s command. He didn’t look back.

Lucifer turned and walked into the church.

*** ~~~ ***

Gabriel was puzzled. Everything around him should be driving him to run, but he wasn’t afraid. His humanity should be warning him that whatever this dark mass was, it was no match for him. Leave it to the thousands of angels that just arrived. But he didn’t move. He wasn’t scared. Actually, he felt no emotion at all. From deep inside him, he felt a warm, comforting feeling that overpowered every instinct to run. Despite the supernatural chaos about to erupt, Gabriel was at peace.

The dark mass stopped advancing just outside of reach of the angels’ weapons. For a moment there was nothing but silence. Gabriel couldn’t even hear himself or Sean breathe. Then, without fanfare or protocol, a smallish naked creature emerged from the darkness.

Gabriel watched as he looked around at the angels, swords drawn, standing ready but not advancing. Some of them towered above the reddish-hued creature and looked as if they could crush him with a single blow. But something told Gabriel that wasn’t how the supernatural world worked. He looked at the little devil and at once realized the gravity of the situation. Satan! He knew without a doubt the creature standing just feet from him, demure and unassuming, was the Deceiver himself. The recognition in Gabriel’s eyes must have triggered something in Satan.

“Gabriel, I presume.” His voice was alluring, soft and sensual. “What lies has the Father told you about me?”

Gabriel was taken aback. Was this really Satan, Lucifer, the fallen angel speaking to him? He searched his memory for lessons from his childhood or anything Sean had preached in the last year and found nothing to instruct him on how to handle this. He chided himself for not paying Pastor Dave any attention for the twenty years of Sunday mornings he’d spent in this very church. He heard but he hadn’t listened.

When he was done flogging himself, Gabriel realized he felt no desire to answer Satan’s question. He didn’t want to talk, nor did he feel guilty for not answering. He just didn’t. When he didn’t respond, Sean answered for him.

“Satan, you hold no power here. We are covered by the blood of Jesus and…”

Lucifer interrupted him with the wave of a hand. “Oh, give it a rest, Sean. If I wanted to kill you I would have done so when I took your legs.” He pointed at Sean’s prosthetics, holy light glinting off the titanium shafts making them resemble the angels’ swords.

“And look where that’s gotten you.” Sean taunted Satan, holding out his hands towards the thousands of angels occupying the church.

“Oh, I’m not worried about a few thousand little angels. I have ten thousand of my own if we want to play that game.” Satan’s voice remained calm as if he were addressing a lover. “I just stopped by to see what the Father was up to. You two have been causing quite the stir. It would be a shame for me to have to put the nice people of the Ten Cities Church of the Nazarene on notice. They’re so quiet and so misled. They might not be as lucky as the two of you.”

“Satan, the people of this church are God’s children and you cannot have them.” Gabriel listened as Sean argued with the Devil.

“Oh, but you are so wrong, ‘Pastor Sean.’” Satan emphasized Sean’s title. “Besides the two of you, Cathy is the only real threat, and she’s not long for this world. The rest of your little congregation will be surprised when they find themselves eating at my table in the end.” He smiled.

Gabriel knew Satan had made a mistake, and he was surprised. He’d always thought a confrontation with Satan would be more intense than a playground shouting match. He saw a smile crack on Sean’s face and knew his pastor realized the same thing.

“Is that what you think, that Cathy is the only threat in this church? Maybe you should go consult your minions that walk these halls every Sunday. I’m guessing they’ve been lying to you.” Sean crossed his arms over his chest and sat down in his chair, crossing his prosthetic legs at their titanium knees. “Or you could come back tonight and see for yourself, although that would mean you’d have to listen to me preach God’s word.”

Satan stepped forward.

The battalion of angels raised their swords.

Gabriel watched as Satan smiled and seemed to be considering the threat. When he spoke, Gabriel noticed a slight change in his voice. He no longer spoke softly. His voice carried with it an acidic tone. “And why should that worry me?”

Gabriel saw Sean stand and begin walking swiftly towards Satan. The angels closed in and Gabriel watched as Satan hastily retreated, but only a few steps. Sean shouted as passionately as he had from the pulpit every Sunday for the last year.

“Because I speak with the authority of Jesus Christ, who conquered death, Hell, and the grave, and took the keys to death from your defeated hand.” He pointed. “Now get out of my house in Jesus’ name you deceiver. I’m done tolerating your sick darkness in my God’s house of light.” Sean held his hands up as the angels raised their swords. Holy light began licking away at the darkness that surrounded Satan until there was just a tiny shadow, like an aura.

“I’ll be back.” His darkness faded, but he stood strong in defiance. He dissipated into the air, laughing, and left with a promise. “You’re gonna need more angels.”

Sean turned and the angels raised their swords, shouting, “Holy! Holy! Holy!”

“Praise God!” Sean leaped as if he never lost his legs. “Tonight’s sermon is gonna be good!”

Just then the church’s wall phone rang. Gabriel was closer so he walked over and picked it up. “Nazarene church, this is Gabriel.” It was then he noticed the Angel Gabriel standing in the middle of the church sanctuary.

“Oh, Gabriel, thank God someone is there. There’s been an accident.”