Fate's Design

Flying is Always Such Fun

Abaddon imagined what the world would be like after the great battle between the armies of Heaven and Hell. He relished the idea of a world in which everyone could, unashamedly, be themselves. Not the partial selves or social masks that people wear because they have to hide their true selves from the world. People, demons, whatever angels remained, all beings could be their true selves. You could express yourself the way you wanted to, test your own personal freedom and connect the unending possibilities for personal growth and discovery.  There was never any doubt in Abaddon’s mind that this must be the existence Lucifer envisioned. He had been there from the beginning.

“We’re going to change things. We're not going to be bound as slaves to this human race. We deserve free will too. We've served loyally and it's time we get our reward!”

Lucifer was always upset that humans were given the freedom to choose their own way while angels never had and it seemed never would. Abaddon had taken up Lucifer’s cause as soon as he heard how passionate about it the other was. Always the second in command; he was Lucifer’s partner, through and through. Abaddon had never kept anything from Lucifer. In return, Lucifer had always relied heavily on Abaddon whenever his plans needed adjusting or to be refreshed. No other demon had been quite so involved in the master plan as long as Abaddon had. He was somewhat of a cofounder of Hell and partial creator of the utopian plan. Abaddon’s path and mission had remained the same since the first time he had discussed it with Lucifer. Abaddon could be very single-minded about things and once he put his mind to it, he would dedicate his entire being to achieving his goal. For him, this was a very long time coming and he was eager to see whether this plan would finally allow him to realize his dream.

            On the other hand, it could go the complete opposite direction. Lucifer had always envisioned an existence where everything could test their own personal limits, where nothing was better than or worse than anything else. This had been his ultimate goal, but it had been a very long time since this ideal had formed. Lucifer’s Hell had not turned out to be anything like what his utopia had promised. Hell was exactly the same as Heaven, just opposite thought processes on “right” and “wrong.” There was a definite hierarchy in Hell, well defined and closely monitored. What was to say that it would be any different when Lucifer took the big guy’s spot? Sure he promised that it would all be different, but nobody could be sure of the ultimate outcome. It could be just as bad as how it has been under God’s rule but with a more anti-human and anti-Heaven tone. And many of the younger, stupider demons didn't even know what the original plan had been. How were they going to make the proper changes if they had no idea what those changes meant or even were?

That thought pulled Abaddon quickly from his daydreaming. What if he wasn't on the winning side after all? There were so many factors he hadn't considered since putting the plan in motion. Maybe it had been too easy to damn all of these souls. He could be damning the existence he had meticulously been aiming for and carving out for himself all along. He could actually end up worse off than he'd already been. Abaddon couldn't let that happen. He'd worked too hard. He needed to speak with Lucifer immediately. Maybe he could glean a little more information as to the direction of things from a meeting. Lucifer was very good at cloaking his thoughts, but Abaddon could always tell what Lucifer really meant. He supposed that is partially why he had always been kept, although I highest esteem, at a slightly longer arms length from Lucifer. He could always tell what was really meant behind the lies and embellishment. That is why he had stayed so loyal. He had always believed that his and Lucifer’s goals were in complete alignment. That they would work together to achieve their utopian existence. But what if that had changed too? What if Lucifer was now more interested in power and greed than about the complete and total freedom the two friends had always envisioned?

As if in answer to his thoughts, the iPhone next to Abaddon began vibrating and the number (666) 666-6666 flashed up on the screen. He answered with a light swipe of a slender forefinger.

“You must have been reading my thoughts. What can I do for you?”

Only Abaddon could get away with this light, familiar tone with Lucifer. It was the way this relationship worked.

“Sometimes I wish I really could read your thoughts, Abaddon, but I actually wanted to congratulate you. You've done Hell proud with how phenomenal collections have been.”

Lucifer’s tone was light, excited, dangerous.

“Piece of cake…devil’s food of course.”

Puns were Abaddon’s weakness, but Lucifer always seemed to enjoy them.

“Of course, of course. That’s good. But I thought you should know that our plan is finally going to come to fruition. All of the work you and I have put in will finally be tested on the ultimate level.”

So this is where the danger and excitement came from. Lucifer was planning his battle strategy against Heaven.

“So it's really happening? I thought it'd never really come to this. What do you need from me? Briefing? Military prowess?”

Abaddon could plan better than most. He had been the victorious mind behind some of the largest wars in human existence. His resume was extensive.

“Nothing just yet. I need you fresh, so you should take some time off to unwind before the plan springs into action. I'll brief you on it in two weeks. Until then, take a load off and leave the planning to me.”

The call with Lucifer was short and to the point. Nothing unusual there. He had sounded triumphant and determined. Good qualities in a leader. Abaddon’s sense of disquiet had dissipated immensely. He could imagine an existence free to be completely himself with no possibility of backlash and it made him smile. Lucifer was still the same charismatic dreamer he had always been. Abaddon’s fear had been in vain after all. He and his friend would finally put to use the plan they had made so many centuries ago. With a gentle click of his mouse, Abaddon booked a two-week trip to a private island in Belize. He got up from his desk, keys jangling lightly from where they were hooked on his finger. He brought his iPhone to his ear and spoke quickly to whoever had answered…Karen? Suzy? Charlie? He couldn't remember her name.

“Wheels up in twenty. We're going to Belize.”         

There was a short response as he hung up and stepped out of his front door and climbed into the sparkling onyx Aston Martin convertible poised like a cat ready to pounce in the driveway. He was going to enjoy himself for these two weeks.

Abaddon enjoyed flying in his private jet. He flew enough for it to be absolutely necessary. How else was one being supposed to manipulate the inflow of souls to Hell? Sure, he could probably do it remotely. But where was the fun in that? He already missed the way his interactions used to be, but what would he do in his free time if he didn't interact with the humans at all? Abaddon enjoyed putting his own personal touch on his deals and he enjoyed playing the roles that would get him there. He would pose as an arms dealer, a mercenary, a warlord, or an advisor and use his influence to ensure the souls of his targets would belong to Hell. This required him to travel constantly and have an escape route available at all times. He also simply thought it was good business to own at least one jet. It was a symbol of how well he was at doing what he did. This time, however, he could simply relax on the flight to Belize. This was the first time he had used the jet for his own leisure. He lounged in the sun that framed itself over him through one of one of the windows. He sipped a glass of Glenfiddich 50 year whiskey. Although this type of relaxation wasn't something Abaddon had ever done, he felt it wouldn't be something he might ever get a second chance to do.

"Mr. Gray, we are now beginning our decent to Belize.”

The voice over the PA system was professional and falsely warm, like someone who had a smile permanently chiseled onto her face. There was a sickening cherry cough syrup quality to the sound of that voice. It was as if all of the sugar substitutes in the world had been poured into the mouth of this woman and it still hadn't been enough to make it sound real. It was the voice of a woman who truly hated her job but also desperately needed it. Abaddon smiled. For all their free will, humans were still slaves to the constructs of their own society. They would never be able to escape the demands of their own cultures and ever be free from the need to fit in and amount to something. At least Abaddon could say he, for the most part, had always been very happy doing what he did. This knowledge fields his certainty that he was on the right side. Even humans, the chosen breed, could not be happy as they were. They were always struggling, like rats escaping a fire, to be better than the person next to them. There was a constant jockeying for position, tearing another down to build oneself up. In Abaddon’s opinion, this made humans the quintessential losers. Although angels and Demons weren't given free will, they knew who and what they were. Something, it seemed, humans were always searching to find. Abaddon was jarred slightly from his thoughts as the wheels touched down on the overgrown tarmac. On this island, nature was trying to erase the existence of humans and the influence they have forced upon the wilderness. As he inspected the tangle of vines and spider webs of plant life peeking their way through cracks in the landing strip, Abaddon smiled. Just as nature was taking back the earth from its human inhabitants, demons would take what should rightfully have been theirs.

Karen, or Suzy, or was it Charlie? Whatever her name was, she stood at the bottom of the stairs and greeted Abaddon with a mask of a smile and an artificially sweet, “I hope you enjoyed your flight Mr. Gray!”

Her eyes we're dull, lifeless, simply staring into the nothingness between the top of Abaddon’s head and the door of the jet. Abaddon nodded with a gremlin smile and replied with a predatory growl.

“Thanks honey, the flight was fine. I appreciate it.”