Gods of Death

12 : Theological Holes

The cool breeze coming off the Mediterranean sea was the first thing that Victor noticed, and the first thing he was thankful for.

"What the f**k?" he said to Emma, lying back on the sandy beach and staring into the glorious sky. "What the actual f**k?"

"Are you OK?" Emma disentangled herself from Victor's wrist and hovered above his chest, her flapping generating a second, not unpleasant breeze

"Go there, do this, come here, balance on a f*****g rock floating on lava, justify yourself, go there, kill that, justify yourself some more." Victor blinked, squinting to see her in the warm sunlight. "Who the f**k do they think they are?"

"Gods?"

"Yeah, what is that about anyway. Gods! It makes no sense."

"How's that?"

"There's God, right. Big, powerful, long beard, created the world. God singular. You can believe whatever religion and hokey that you want, but the fact is that we've spent the last while chasing around after Archangels. We have visited Hell and Eden -"

"- and Gothenburg, and now, if I'm not mistaken, Greece. Kos."

"Yeah, OK. My point is that it's all very Christian, or Catholic, or whatever; I never understand the difference."

"And?"

"And there're no f*****g 'Gods of Death' in any bible I've heard of. In fact, there're no Gods of Anything. Sure, in Greece - is that where we are? Never been here before. In Greece they had a God of This and a Goddess of That, but not in Christianity."

"So?"

"So it doesn't match up. It's a mess, a swirling pot of shit."

"And?"

"For f**k's sake Emma, and we're being taken for a ride. There's something else going on. I don't think the Gods of Death are Gods at all."

"But you think it is Hell they live in?"

"Well, it's f*****g warm there, I think you'd agree."

Emma laughed. Victor sat up.

"On the one hand we have Hell, without the Devil by the way, as if he has gone on holiday. Then we have Chamuel and Jophiel, Archangels I'd never heard of. We have a place that may or may not have been Eden and another that may or may not have been Sweden."

"Nice rhyme."

"The Gods of Death are just three f****d up old men."

"You want to risk that?"

"I think I somehow took some really bad drugs. I'm probably lying on the floor of a c***k den in the East End with a needle in my arm right now."

"Is that something you did?"

"No, but it's as good an explanation as the one we are believing."

"What does that make me?"

"A f*****g figment of my f*****g twisted imagination."

"So you are talking to yourself?"

Victor shrugged and went back to lying on the sand. "I'm taking a break."

"Do you think that's wise?"

"I don't think they can tell what I'm doing. I think our next Archangel is in no rush to die, and try as I might, that does seem to be what happens to them, and I think I've had just about enough of this s**t as I can take. Plus, this is a nice place. I'm warm, the breeze is pleasant and I'm tired. Why shouldn't I just give up?" He closed his eyes.

Emma was quiet for a moment. She landed on the sand close to Victor's shoulder and gently tapped him there with the tip of her tail. Victor turned his head to look at her, eyes half open. He could see her true-form, as he liked to think of it, hovering behind her.

"Yes?" he asked.

"You can't give up. I need you to do this. I need you to win."

"You?"

Emma dropped her eyes. Victor sat up again and looked down at her. Even sitting he was more than three times her height.

"Emma, I need to know what you know. I'm going crazy here. At the beginning, I just took it all as it came; the deals, the training, you, even the mission. But it's got to the point where it all feels a bit too much and I can't make sense of any of it. Gods in Hell who the Archangels didn't know about, my slaughtering beings who have been alive since what? The dawn of human belief? Now, I have a f*****g imp or devil or whatever you are asking me for help. What the f**k is going on?"

"They are new."

"Who?"

"The Gods of Death. They just appeared one day, at least, that's what I heard. He's been gone forever; Satan I mean. I've never known him around and I've been in Hell a long time. A very long time." She paused and folded in her wings. Standing there like that, she really looked just like a miniature person, Victor thought.

"They just turned up and took over. No one thought anything of it; demons come and go. But this was different. They started to wage a war, recruit the dead, force the dying to do what they want. That's what they have done to you, you know. You're not dead. You're dying. They lied."

"Dying?"

"Yes. This, all of this, it happens so quickly. Time is meaningless. In the way of it, in your timeline, you are not dead yet. That's how they can offer you life. It's not a resurrection, it's a healing. I don't think they are quite good enough to bring back the dead."

"I'm not dead."

"Of course you are going to f*****g focus on that part of it. Victor, that means nothing. You will still die unless they choose to set you free."

"Can we go to me?"

"What?"

"f**k Greece, f**k this beach. You can make the portals. Can we go to where I am? Be there outside of me? You know what I mean?"

"I have no idea."

"Shall we try?"

"It sounds dangerous."

"And fighting another Archangel doesn't?"

"I can't open another portal yet. I don't have the power. Not until he is dealt with?"

"The next angel?"

Emma nodded.

"f**k it, let's go find him then. One more. I'll kill one more. This can be it though. I’ll just go in swinging; third time lucky. Which one is it? What's his name?"

"Gabriel."