His Love In Time: Volume I
Chapter 2: Trouble

I DID NOT SLEEP WELL DURING THE NIGHT, EVEN AFTER I took melatonin to knock me out. I carry constant wonder about what I am going to do with my family. I should respect God’s wishes, but I am not entirely sure that it is fair. I am trying my best to make sure that I don’t think about it. However, I am not able to fall asleep. Not until after it is daytime, when the big blue ball is a beautiful baby blue color.

Once I do roll out of bed, I can hear the whooshing from the water below, hitting the rocks. I will miss this the most, and I’m not sure where I will find it on earth.

Breakfast alone is never fun. My wife usually leaves in the middle of the night but is back in time for lunch. She tells me it is for the baby, but I think it is just her way of being able to have alone time. It does not bother me, I trust her. But while I am alone, at my breakfast table, I can’t help but notice all of the unmatched patterns here. The dark cherry wood cabinets, with yellow walls, and the beige and purple square floor. It makes me happy to know that I am either at work or sleeping, so it has never bugged me. I would go crazy if I had to see it day after day, no wonder Lynn leaves. Over the large fireplace in the living room, there is a giant poster, picture frame of our wedding. We look so great together. Below the picture frame mounts my white sheath and sword. Something that I know will have to stay here. Not too many people allow a battle-ready sword on earth.

Looking around the apartment makes me sad, knowing that I will not be here much longer. I do not want to leave any earlier than usual, but being in this apartment makes it hard to sit still. I grab my new halo and my sword and head out the door. Looking around at Limbo, I notice something that is unusual. There are clouds in the sky. A dark blue and light blue mixture of clouds. They accent the red sky nicely, but it is hard not to wonder. I have lived here for eleven years and have never seen a cloud in the air, ever.

I look down at the long drop below, and wonder, how does Lynn get down while I am sleeping? I take a step off the balcony and feel a rush of air hitting my face. Approximately ten feet above the ground, my wings naturally open and slow my descent down.

Inside my car, it is nice to relax for a moment before heading to work. It is apparent that my wife drives the car, most of the time. There is a Hawaiian flower hanging from the rearview mirror. The smell of her lotion scents the air with a new car smell. It is a clash of the scents, but a scent that I enjoy. The engine roars like a lion, which is music to my ears. I rev the engine to hear the horses gallop. It is a well-tuned machine, that is for sure. I soon turn the engine off and exit the car. I want to make sure that Lynn has the car if she needs it.

I flap my wings, slow at first then faster to pick up speed. Before long I am lifting off the ground to the sky. Flying to work is fun, and it is easier to find. All I have to do is see the line of people coming out of the portal, towards the pearly gates. It looks like a long line for a famous concert, waiting for tickets. Flying above, I can see the front of people, Saint Peter’s podium, my security gate, the stairway to heaven, and the elevator to hell. The only problem is, the elevator and the barriers seem to be open.

I land near the security booth to investigate what is going on. The sky now has thick blue clouds. I glance at the building with the words ETERNITY above it, and even this building seems a little different. No one else is around, with the exception for the thousands of people in line, waiting for judgment.

Near the entrance, it is dark and grim, with an eerie feel to it. Saint Paul’s booth is empty. The giant book, with all the names of souls, is missing. Near the security booth, my office is a tall, dark and handsome man. It is Lucifer, arms crossed, leaning against the stall. He is wearing his typical black pressed suit, tailored just right.

Lucifer snarls towards me, “The prodigal son returns.”

I laugh at the comment and say, “You must have me mistaken, I’m Jacob Sprite,” I inform him, and see the glare in his eyes, squint smaller. I am expecting him to lunge at me and try to tear my head off. We never do get along, I’m the last remaining half-breed angel. Which means I have something that he will never possess. The ability to forgive.

“I know who you are,” he says. He straightens up and begins his creepy walk towards me. His hands part his coat and enter his pant pockets. “I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time, Mr. Sprite, and even Father answers my prayers. Because here you are.” He brings an eerie feeling with him, and it is far from pleasant.

“Um, it’s Jacob, if you please.”

“Of course, Jacob.”

He walks around me, eying me, trying to get me scared. He leans in, from behind, and smells my hair. Grossing me out, I speak up, “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to figure you out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, last night the elevator to my kingdom was left open. Plus, the gate leading to heaven was open. Now, I know that you and Santa were on duty last night, so tell me how that is possible.”

I look at the elevator, the gates, and the podium. I am without words, for a moment. I honestly have no idea what happened. “Lucifer, I’m sorry, but I did not work last. Michael and Saint Paul were on duty.”

“You’re going to throw your own under like that?” Lucifer asks me, insultingly. “We shall see.” Lucifer walks towards the elevators and disappears.

When I get back to my security booth, I am puzzled by the accusations towards me. I have been working here for a long time, and would never think of leaving those doors open. I begin to wonder and worry. Where are Michael, Paul, and Peter? What about my wife? Were they taken from me? Am I to handle all of this on my own? I don’t have time to worry about this. I do what I know best. Stand guard.

After making sure that the gates and the elevator are shut, I return to my booth. I am watching the line grow, and grow. I never work the podium, and if I did, I don’t have the book to call on. How hard can it be? I think to myself. It can’t be that difficult. All I have to do is make sure that they step on the platform, wait for the light, and escort them to the proper area.

I do what I think is right, and walk over to the podium, with fear painting my face. I step up to the podium and stare, blankly, at the people in line. The first soul walks up to me and stares at me, with the same stare I am giving him.

Just before I open my mouth, in the distance, I can see a short and stout man walking my way. It is hard to make out who it is, but one thing is for sure; he is not from the portal. Perhaps it is a soul that is ready for judgment.

The man is getting closer, wearing a white robe, much like a messenger angel. Only, no wings, and he is limping. As the short man gets closer, I can see bruising on his face, and a cut lip. Who would do such a thing?

The short and round man, with a balding head and pearl white hair approaches the desk. He is trying to look at me, but his black eye makes it hard to focus in on me. “What happened to you?!” I ask him.

“After you left the bar last night, Samael decided that it would be fun to take his revenge on me,” Saint Peter says with a crippled tone.

It is hard not to want to go to hell and give that demon a piece of my mind. My luck, every soul that we greet will be saved, and I won’t have my chance until later. “Are you alright?” I ask him.

“I’m fine, but I think he’s the one that attacked the gates, also. Michael and Paul are in Eternity to talk about it. They were on duty, so they are the ones responsible,” his raspy voice makes me feel like giving him a hug.

I chuckle for a moment because I can see what Lucifer means by calling him Santa, but I am trying to keep my composure. I have a hard time keeping my straight face, but I am. I step down and walk to my spot, to allow Saint Peter in his.

“You must be Frederick Spencer. Due to my current condition, I will ask you to politely step up to the platform, please,” he is giving the vibe of an old man that has just been part of a domestic violence issue.

Frederick does as Saint Peter says, and I receive a green light. I watch him walk in the gates, followed by another and another.

I am beginning to think that what I joke about will become sincere. But new music to my ears happens, I see the red light flashing. I escort the unknown name because I am not listening, to the elevator. Leviathan appears, alone.

“Leviathan, where’s Samael?” I ask.

He shrugs his shoulders and enters into the elevator with the new soul.

“Jacob, is everything alright?” Saint Peter asks me.

“Yeah, I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what Jake?”

“Where that demon ran off to, it’s like he’s scared.”

“Maybe he is. He does work in hell, after all.”

“But I want to have some words with him.”

“Please, don’t stress about it. I’ll be healed by tomorrow. It’s not my first battle, and won’t be my last.”

Perhaps he’s right. The more that it bugs me, the less work I am going to get done. Besides, God will have revenge for us all.

We walk back to our spots and continue to work. Another free soul, followed by another damned soul. It is like they are going back and forth, and very little unfinished business. I have to admit; it is pretty sweet to see judgment just happen over and over again. The gates open up, or the demons receive.

Then a man, standing in line with the other souls, grabs my attention. He is trying to make conversation with the souls in front of him.

He was standing about four souls in, along with a fence. I recognize him, but I don’t know if it just a coincidence. Of course, here in Limbo, there is no such thing. He isn’t really talking, moving, or doing anything out of the ordinary. I just know that he doesn’t seem to belong here. Unlike most of the souls in the line, he isn’t making eye contact with me either. It is like I am invisible to him, but I know that he can see me.

There is just something different about him.

The soul that is standing in front of him; I can tell how he died. A bullet to the head, and he is wearing something out of the French revolution. He looks like he is just out of the war, as the angel Azrael takes him to the waiting room for the home.

Another one, behind him, is smoky. I don’t mean that he has some steam coming off of him, I mean it looks like he has been pulled straight from a fire with smoke beaming off of him. It is kind of cool to watch it with the blue light shining through the smoke. It looks like computer graphic imaging, even though I know better.

But this next guy is different. He doesn’t look like he died prematurely. He doesn’t look like he died due to a medical condition. In fact, he doesn’t appear to be dead, at all. It’s like he found the gateway, the portal, to here and he’s trying to get in to see more. I’ve never been in a situation like this before, so I will just stand watch. I’m not afraid to use my sword if I need to.

There are two souls in front of him before Saint Peter can question him. First is a young woman, shorter than average. Appears to be in her mid to late eighties or more. She looks like she’s lived a long life. My guess is that she just died of natural causes. I have to admit when a day goes like this, it’s interesting to hear what Saint Peter has to say about the new souls.

“Abigail Smith,” Saint Peter says. “Mother of two, wife, and devoted Christian. You served your church for the last… twenty years?! Wow. And it says that you, for the most part, lived a great life. Oh, wait, not a Christian. You’re just a member of the church, why?”

“Because I never got around to getting baptized,” she responds.

“Don’t you remember what the bible says about salvation?”

“Of course I do, I taught the Bible during Sunday school. But when you’re teaching the classes, when does one find the time?”

“Please,” Saint Peter raises his arm towards the platform, “step on the platform.”

The entire town grows pitch black, and a bright light beams down on her. The sad part is, we never get to hear the conversation between a soul and God, that is strictly personal. I just find out the after effect. I stare at my light board to wait for the cue. Chances are, she’s going to have some unfinished business.

The green light turns on, He truly is a merciful God. The pearly gates open, and she walks in. Happy, peacefully.

The soldier is next. Entirely different, and yet, the same result is going to happen. Unless he’s done something that’s really bad. Most of the time, the soldiers are accepted into heaven. “Colonel Andrew Redford, says that you died during the French Revolution. I’m sorry to hear that, but you have a beautiful wife and daughter. Not to mention the other girlfriend and son? Why?” Saint Peter asks.

“Over sea’s I got lonely.”

“But your girlfriend lives in the same town as your wife,” with a concerned look on his

face, Saint Peter continues to read. He shakes his head and shows him to the platform. The

results from him and God don’t take as long as little miss Abigail. It is like God already knows

what the results will be. But to my surprise, he does not get the green or the red light. It is

white. Perhaps God is showing mercy on him because he is Christian. Which, means that’s

my cue.

I walk up to the man and escort him to the Eternity building. Once we are inside, I

do my same old song and dance and tell the receptionist behind the counter that “Andrew

Redford will be staying with us for a while. He knows of God but has forgotten a few crucial parts of Him. He is to try to discover them.”

The lady behind the counter reminds me of any young librarian you’ve ever met. She wears thick glasses and has a thick New York accent. Her red hair is short and bobbed under her ears. But she knows what she is doing too, “Here you are, sweetie. Have a wonderful time.”

“Thank you very much,” Andrew says and takes his key. Two messenger angels fly down and escort him to where he is to stay until judgment comes. One of the messenger angels is the one that was being picked on in the bar.

I glance over to see the man that I am concerned about waiting for his turn. Saint Peter cannot ‘interview’ anyone until the security guard is back, which is me. I hustle to my spot, to take care to listen to what Saint Peter and he have to say.

I wrap my fingers around my sword, ready for whatever may or may not happen. All I know is that this guy is not supposed to be here, at all. I am not convinced that he is human, but I’m not confident that he is a demon. He could just surprise me, and be exactly what I think he’s not. But after eleven years, I have never felt this way towards anyone.

He smiles as he steps up to the podium. Saint Peter is flipping through the pages of his book. He looks lost, I think to myself. The sheets are flipping fast, and it would seem like he is confused. He speaks, “Name?” Saint Peter asks the man.

“Orias Forrester,” the man replies. He has an extremely monotone voice, thick, and disturbing. Tall, muscular in built, but dark and mysterious. If I were a woman, I would be attracted to him, physically, but there is something about the way he talks, I can sense a lot of pride. Even here in the afterlife, there is something off about him.

“Orias, I apologize, but I cannot find you in the book. Either Azrael has taken you too soon or…”

I interrupt, “He found the portal.” They both look at me in despair. Orias steps away from the podium and inches his way towards the platform. I draw my sword and stop him just in time. “Saint Peter has not given you permission, yet. If you do not belong here yet, go back through the portal you came in and go home.”

He glares at me with disgust. I want to take his head, but that would be considered murder. The only gratitude I would have is that God made me a guardian for a reason, and I would be guarding this place. But he is still human.

Samael and, finally, Leviathan creep up behind Orias. “You heard the winged boy, it’s time for you to go home,” Samael says. They, firmly, grab Orias by the arms and lift him up. Together, they walk to the closest portal and escort him back through. The three of them are gone.

I begin to worry that they are using this as an opportunity to travel to the other world. But I have to stand here with confidence that they will return, after doing their job.

As I am staring at the portal, waiting for their return, I can’t help but notice my wife is walking my way. Excited to see her, I get out of my booth and hustle to her. However, before I make it all the way, the two demons return, right behind her. They grab her by her arms and begin walking to the elevator. The only thing that comes to my mind is, ’They think that she’s an evil soul.’

“You are sentenced to eternity in Hell, because of you…”

I run after them, but it is difficult to get farther than a few inches. It is like time is standing still, and I am pushing myself through. The sentencing is being carried out, and if I don’t get there fast, my wife and unborn child will be in Hell forever.

“Once we enter that elevator, you are never to return to Limbo City. You are never to be given a second chance…” Running with everything I have. Feeling like something is holding me back from running to her.

Not willing to give up, I can’t help but notice that Lynn is standing there, fearless, like she knew this time would come. Every ounce of strength that I can muster up is being put to the test. This has to be a test from God, I think to myself. But I will pass! My right hand clenches into a fist and I swing as hard and as fast as I can. Landing a punch on Samael’s face, causing time around me to speed back up to standard time. Samael is forced backward a good fifty feet. Leviathan let’s go of Lynn, to fight me.

I walk backward, to give us some room, and to urge him on. Leviathan performs a perfect, spinning back kick towards my face. I arch my back away from the kick and avoid contact. A swing with his left, followed by his right, I dodge every blow to my face. I counter his attacks with a kick to his ribs. But he doesn’t step back as much as Samael did. I realize now, that just because Samael is bigger, Leviathan is stronger.

Now Samael has made his way back to us to join the fight. I draw my sword and twirl it around my hand for a moment, to show that I know how to handle the blade. A flame of the spirit engulfs the edge, to give it more power. Samael tackles me and knocks me to the ground. My sword comes loose, and the flame goes out. Samael gets up, and he and Leviathan begin kicking me in the ribs. I can feel the bones start to soften and eventually start to crack. My spiritual healing isn’t as fast as they are. Leviathan, stops for a moment and pulls a massive broadsword out of Samael’s back. He rises the sword up, above his head, and is about to swing down, like an ax, at my neck. I catch Samael’s foot, pushing him off and towards Leviathan. Causing him to fall on top of him. I roll over, to get out of the way. However, as I am on all fours, getting myself up, I see a familiar face.

It’s the bartender, coming to help me out. She doesn’t like Leviathan or Samael. She is running towards us but begins to run on all fours like a werewolf. She leaps into the air and is now a full-fledged dog, hairless, and scary. The bartender morphs into a hellhound. A big one, too. She is easily six feet tall, on all fours, with a mouth that can eat a small person in a single chomp. Her skin is a fiery red, and her eyes have a red glow to them. The slobber leaking away from her teeth, makes her look hungry. The only problem is; she isn’t staring at the two demons. After landing as the hellhound, she is staring at me.

“What are you?!” I say with a definite scare to my voice.

She just looks at me. Leviathan and Samael walk up behind her, both looking at me with an evil glare. All three of them begin to walk and circle me, slowly. All three of them, keep their eyes on me, and don’t blink for a single second. Samael is the first of the three to make his move. He swings at me with his right. I get out of the way. Followed by Leviathan and even the dog. Dodging all of the attacks with little ease, I am able to survive for the moment.

I catch Samael’s fist and force him to hit Leviathan. I know that it won’t cause much damage, but it’s enough to cause them to stumble over the hellhound. Making the three of them fall to the ground.

The hellhound is the first to get back up and lunge towards me, tackling me to the ground once again. I am holding the large hellhounds neck, preventing it from biting me, but she keeps trying to sink her teeth into my throat.

Samael gets up and uses this disadvantage to his advantage. He grips his hand around my halo and begins to pull. After pulling hard, he is able to get the halo off of my head. He knows that it is part of my strength, and wants to weaken me. He throws the halo, like a Frisbee. The hellhound gets a glimpse of the bright glow, hurling in the air. She let’s go of her gaze towards me, and runs towards the halo. Like any dog would, she jumps up and catches the halo in her jaws. She begins to rip her head from left to right, trying to tear it up. She is distracted, for now.

Samael and Leviathan are making their way to Lynn once again, hoping to finish what they have started. I kick myself up and run towards them. Leviathan, being the stronger of the two, is my first target. I manage to jump onto Leviathan’s back and wrap my arm around his neck. With a squeeze of my bicep, I am cutting off the circulation to his head. After a few moments, he falls to the ground. Passed out, cold. Samael turns towards me and swings his fist. His, colossal fist, makes contact with my face and I fall to the ground. He grabs my ankle, picks me up, and throws me to the hellhound.

The hellhound jumps up, let’s go of my halo and grips her teeth around my neck, and forces me on my back. The pain is more than anyone can bear. I can feel her teeth sinking into my throat. If she bites just a little harder, my neck will fall off. But Samael wants to do the honors. He grabs his sword and repeats what Leviathan tried. The sword is coming towards my neck, above the hellhound. But Michael, out of nowhere, stops the blade from cutting me. He kicks the hellhound off of me, and looks at Samael, “Where’s your brother?” he says.

Samael and Michael begin to fence, back and forth. Michael taught me everything I know, about fighting. But it would appear that he was holding back. I turn my gaze on the hellhound, while they are fighting.

Running towards her, I pick up my sword along the way and bring the sword above my head. I swing down, to cut the air. She is skilled, even though she is a dog.

“Where’s Lucifer?!” Michael yells.

“He’s doing what your Father cannot,” Samael teases.

“Father can accomplish anything,” Michel defends.

Samael and Michael continue to fence with one another. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Leviathan grabbing my halo. Or what looks like my halo, it was no longer glowing. Probably something that happens when a demon gets his hands on it. It is more of a dull green and brown color. But I am not going to let that stop me from saving it. The hellhound has my sword in her teeth, and she isn’t letting go. The more I pull it away, the tighter her grip. Realizing that I will not be able to remove the “stick from the dog’s mouth” I let go. Running to Leviathan, who was a couple feet from the elevator doors, I perform a roundhouse kick to his mid-section, miss, but hit my halo out of his grip. I react to my mistake, and kick him in his face, knocking him out once again.

I turn my gaze towards the hellhound. She begins to charge towards me, with my sword in her mouth. She jumps in the air and transforms back into her human form. While morphing, she manages to get the sword out of her mouth and in her hand. Spinning, she nearly cuts my neck, but I am able to get out of the way. She strikes down at me with my sword. I block the sword with my halo and cause the sword to go flying in the other direction. She watches the sword flipping and landing, sword first, in the ground about fifty yards away. I kick her in the gut, slide beside her and run to where the sword lies. Performing a cartwheel, I manage to free the sword from the ground and run towards her once again. Grasping my sword, I spin, sweeping at her feet. She leaps, but I catch one of her feet, bringing her face down. I thrust my sword to her throat, stopping inches from the skin. She freezes for a moment, looks behind me and smiles. She grabs my ankle, pulls, and I fall. While I am falling, my wings spring out from behind, wrapping me in a cocoon for protection. A large ring opens up and swallows me into the ground.

Silence.

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