Part 9: Genesis

The almighty creator beamed as I approached, pale blue eyes twinkling like sun rays shining through a cloud. Crow's feet crinkled with whimsy, grooves carved from millennia of laughter shared by good company, a simple gesture effortlessly placating any fears one might possess. This was God?

I examined the long snowy beard, his wrinkled hands, and the simple garments draped around that unassuming form. Surely the Absolute Being would have chosen a more commanding shape? But despite my doubts, the placid face held a pearl of quiet wisdom which belied the modesty, a bottomless ocean of knowledge that weighed heavily around those kind eyes, hinting at unspeakable sorrow.

God patted the pew again. "Do indulge me, my daughter. I know there is much you'd like to ask."

My legs carried me to the seat. I followed them in a daze, unable to process the fact that I was a foot away from the Big Man himself. Maybe I knocked my head a bit too hard in that crash and this was all just some vivid dream, a hallucination, any convenient excuse that might explain away these events.

I rubbed the obsidian wedding band on my finger as God chuckled. "It does take a minute for most people. Half the time they think it's all a trick, but I assure you there is no deception with me."

Opening my mouth, I blurted out the first thing which came to mind. "Can you... can you reverse all this? Like, go back in time before it all started? Is there a way to-"

He raised a hand. The answer was written on his face, making my heart sink before his soothing voice confirmed it. "I can do all things, child. But this was destined to happen, for I renounced interfering with worldly affairs eons ago. All things must end."

I hugged myself, feeling a painful tightness in my chest. "So this is it, then." My head bowed as I sighed. "Why did I bother fighting something I couldn't change? It was cruel of you to give me hope."

"Not so, Bell." God shook his head with a wry smile. "Don't you see? You've altered the course of things with your actions. By rejecting the mantle that Hell bestowed, you've thrown an awfully big wrench in the works."

"What do you mean?"

He pointed at my ring. "You and August promised yourselves to one another. That is a sacred vow that cannot be broken by anyone else unless either of you wishes it."

"But... everything ends. You said it yourself." I frowned, trying to comprehend what my creator was getting at.

Spreading his arms, the Creator broadly gestured at our surroundings. "It's the law of the universe. All things are finite outside of the divine realms. But your clever guardian found a loophole, a way to prevent the End of Times for a bit longer."

"Vern did?" I glanced over where the fallen angel hung in the air, arms outstretched as he clutched an immobile Lilith.

God cracked a grin. "He's a curious fellow, that one. But yes, he realized if you were to protect your chastity through a holy sacrament it would release any hold that Hell has upon you. One cannot be the Whore of Babylon by committing to a monogamous relationship."

"So... as long as August and I remain together, we'll stop the apocalypse?" I rubbed my aching forehead. It was all starting to make sense now.

"It will not happen in your lifetime, no." The almighty being confirmed, stroking his beard.

Our conversation was interrupted by a new sound, which broke the stillness of time's vacuum. A slow clap echoed in the destroyed church. I turned to face the noise, which came from a shadowy corner where no light could pierce.

Pale hands emerged from the darkness. They struck each other, creating mocking applause while the rest of the body stepped out. It was a tall man. He wore a lavish suit that clung to his frame like cobwebs, polished silver buttons gleaming, crimson silk tie shimmering as the unknown guest approached. His black hair was neatly combed back. An immaculately trimmed goatee sprouted from a sharp chin. Atop his head, two glossy curls protruded from either side, resembling curved horns.

I knew who it was instantly.

Cloven feet clacked on the tiles, matching the tempo of the derisive ovation. Then the Morningstar ceased clapping and straightened his tie while glittering eyes regarded us with cold menace. "Bravo, Father. I should have suspected it was your meddling behind this whole affair."

"On the contrary, my wayward son. I merely allowed Bell to make her own choices, there was no intervention from me." God smiled warmly, but there was a hint of steel in his expression.

Lucifer snorted, blue fire erupting from his nostrils. "You expect me to believe that? My loyal servant chose to refuse orders and received your blessing. Corrupting agents of darkness was not in the agreement we made."

"Free will is not a symptom of my actions," The Lord of all creation remarked calmly. "If you were paying attention, you'd notice I had a similar event from one of my angels a few minutes ago."

"One that you manufactured." Narrowing his eyes, Lucifer bared his teeth. The air around him wavered as his form shifted for a split second, revealing a hulking monstrosity beneath before reality coalesced back to the well-dressed figure.

I shrank back in my pew, a primal fear seizing my limbs. My heart hammered, cold sweat trickling down my neck at the merest suggestion of Satan's wrath. If he desired, the Father of Lies could have seized me then and there, dragging me down to the flaming pits below.

God placed a comforting hand on my shoulder before raising his voice. "Did I force you to fall from my ranks? I do not require obedience and love. It is always given as a choice if you remember." The stern tone made me shiver. Who would dare argue with that imperious power?

Clenching his fists, Lucifer glowered at his progenitor as the air crackled with electricity. My hairs stood on end, feeling the thick currents of tension between them, wishing I could make myself small and hide before the mighty kings warring over divine realms.

A small eternity passed before the Devil relented. He examined his long nails, polishing them on his suit, and flicked some ash away.
"So then, what now? It appears we're at a stalemate."

"That's up to Bell to decide." God nodded to me, sharing a conspiratorial wink as I blinked in shock.

Lucifer burst into peals of laughter, the hideous bleating echoing through the ruined church. "Leaving the fate of the world in the hands of a teenage girl? You've become even more delusional."

"Perhaps," The old man chuckled.

"Whatever. This changes nothing." Smoke billowed from the Devil's mouth as he furiously ground his jaw. "My legions will consume the earth, no matter how long I have to wait."

God crossed his arms and nodded. "It will be as written. Unless humanity has something to say about it, that is." His eyes twinkled with amusement, as though he'd just told a joke and was withholding the punchline.

"This shall not happen again. I will see to it myself. And Jezebel..." Lucifer turned to face me. I tried to flee from that intense gaze but was unable to look away as his irises shifted sideways, becoming goat-like. The earth trembled, his voice deepening to a terrible octave.

"Remember that the only bride you'll be is mine. This is a tremendous mistake and unlike my deluded father, I do not forgive."

Satan lifted a hand and snapped his fingers, never breaking his hateful fixation on me. The locusts sprang to life, burrowing into the earth. Death spiraled, twisting as it became a white mist that faded from sight. The green disease returned to the rotting giant which vacuumed all traces of plague before popping out of existence. After clicking its bloody beak, the massive vulture retreated from the broken window and flew off into the sky, unleashing a final cry as it vanished with the rest of the Horsemen.

A ring of fire blossomed around Lilith. She snapped her head around to look at me as the succubus began to sink back to the second circle of Hell. Her lips puckered, blowing me a kiss. I recoiled from the gesture, making her smirk before the fire consumed the demon queen entirely.

Lucifer backed into the corner where he emerged, the shadows swallowing cloven hooves, the pin-striped suit until only his burning eyes shone from the gloom. And then the scorching embers shut, leaving only their haunting memory.

I looked up at God, who was sorrowfully gazing at Laila. "I asked if she wanted to remain here and watch over you both... but that wasn't her desire." He glanced at me. "Her final wish was for you to tell August that she'll be waiting for him on the other side."

The angel was leaning against the pew's armrest, eyelids closed as her lips curled in a faint smile. It seemed as if she was asleep, having a pleasant dream. What was her last sight? Did Laila get to see us exchange rings? There was a lump in my throat I couldn't swallow. Whatever problems we had, at least now she was finally at peace.

"I just... I just wish we could have been friends." I choked.

God took hold of the angel's hands and shook his head. "Oh, Bell. Don't you see? You already were."

I wiped my nose and sniffed. "So... what now?"

"That's up to you." He smiled as the light around him intensified to blinding brilliance. I held up an arm, squinting through the painful illumination as the church bells began to clang triumphantly, celestial voices singing harmoniously, sweet incense filling my nose until the radiance ceased along with the heavenly chorus.

Only rubble and ashes lay in the wooden seats. But the fragrant perfume still hung in the air as I rubbed my eyes, contemplating the empty pews where I was visited by the most powerful being in existence.

Behind me, there was a sudden crash. I whirled to glimpse Vern tumbling into the pulpit as Father O'Connor jumped with fright. August opened his eyes, confused about where I'd gone off to during our kiss. The whole scene was so comical I couldn't help but laugh, tears spilling down my face, holding my aching sides until my lungs gasped for breath.

"The hell are you giggling at?" Vern scowled, limping over as I wheezed.

"We did it," I gasped. "Despite everything, we really did it."

August helped me to my feet as I wobbled down the aisle, clinging to his arm as the three of us emerged from the ruined church and out into the great beyond, where a new world of possibilities awaited.

Time passed.

We ended up roughing it in Nevada for a year or two before moving back to the East Coast. I thought the familiar scenery would perk up Vern but it didn't seem to do much to improve his spirits. He hardly comes around now. A few months after August and I got our new apartment, my fallen angel began to grow more dejected and gloomy. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, even though I had a strong suspicion why he could scarcely look me in the face.

"You don't need me anymore," He sighed. "It's alright. I've always wanted to do some sightseeing. Drink some fancy booze, maybe learn a thing or two."

I hugged my beloved guardian before he gently pushed me away. "Don't cause him too much trouble, eh?" Vern grimaced, wiping his eyes. "Damn allergies."

And just like that, he was gone.

Blissful years came and went, but not without their fair share of troubles. The scars left behind by the End of Days were long to heal, a collective trauma experienced by millions wouldn't be soon forgotten. Famine had eaten its way through crops, resulting in food shortages. Whatever plague Pestilence spewed was still running rampant and resistant to vaccines, though scientists assured us they were nearing a breakthrough. Fires of War burned steadily, fueled by the festering anger and hatred within rival nations.

And those who Death reaped... some considered them the most fortunate, having been freed from the suffering left in Hell's wake.

We buried our dead and mourned them. Normal citizens who turned criminals under demonic control gave themselves up, unable to come to terms with their actions. Not all were repentant, prompting searches for the fugitives. Most were successfully brought to justice, kicking and screaming. Yet a few still eluded capture. Evil will always find a way to exist, that's an irrefutable fact.

Nevertheless, some good did prosper.

Countries came together and struggled to understand what occurred, eventually blaming things on some bizarre form of mass psychosis brought on by external stressors which caused their populace to snap. Many who were possessed required therapy and treatment. Some recovered and were able to resume their normal lives, while the unfortunate ones were left broken, gibbering about monsters and devils.

The fallout resulted in a larger focus on mental health, improving the quality of life for the homeless and destitute, and providing universal health care to prevent people from falling into the cracks and being unable to receive help. A great many sacrifices were needed for these changes. Of course, there were always politicians who rejected these alterations but the contrarians were much fewer after witnessing what happens when the needy became neglected and begrudgingly signed off on the new bills.

August wanted to assist in these ventures. He dove into social work, quickly making a name for himself, and was encouraged to run for local government. Everyone was fond of his honesty and kind heart, which propelled his career to new heights. It wasn't long before he began campaigning for state senator. According to his political analyst, he was a shoo-in for the position after getting early poll results for the primaries.

"I might even be president one day," August boasted, combing back the greying hairs on his scalp. He was almost in his forties now. I kissed him goodbye as he left for the campaign trail. Though he always wanted me to come with him, I never felt comfortable being in the public eye.

My life was more... reclusive. Spurning all thoughts of travel plans and meeting new people, I was content to dwell in our lake house as I spent quiet days splashing paint onto canvases. Art was now a passion of mine. Critics praised my works as darkly imaginative, marveling over the hellish scenes inspired by my past. They went on and on about symbolism and interpretations while I hid my amusement behind a wineglass. If only they knew most of it was literal.

While my lifestyle is better than most and I shouldn't complain, I feel even more lonely now than ever before. Was this what marriage is supposed to be like? Sitting by myself as the days grow long, accompanied by shadows and ghosts from my past? August is always busy of late. I know he's doing the right thing but I can't help these selfish desires to have him to myself.

But is that what I really want? Our love flourished deeply in the early years but now those petals have become wilted with age. He wanted children and I didn't. What if we had a girl? What if my curse got passed on to her? This sparked many heated arguments and plenty of exhausting fights. Eventually, he dropped the topic altogether. Yet I still see how his face gets when we come across happy couples chasing after little feet.

Even if my heart changed, it was too late for us both. I was no longer within childbearing years and August was taking more medication than vitamins.

People naturally drift apart. I just didn't expect it'd happen to our marriage. Whenever my husband returns from his electoral duties, he's usually pleased to see me, even if there's a growing rift between us. Neither of us wished to acknowledge it. It's an unspoken tension that only seems to deepen, realizing we are becoming different people than the two teenagers who vowed to cherish each other under the threat of world destruction.

If things were normal, the word divorce might be tossed around. Or maybe not. If only I'd been brave enough to have a baby, maybe that would fix everything. If only...

Those two words are constantly in the forefront of my thoughts these days.

I'm sorry for not being a good writer. This memoir is the only thing giving structure and reason to my melancholy life. It wouldn't be surprising if these pages were littered with grammatical and spelling errors, English was never my strong suit. A little voice inside me says I should go back and edit. Another one insists there is no point in fixing past mistakes, nobody is going to read this. Who is this book for, I wonder?

Is it for August? Some way for me to explain my actions, what was going through my head when I left him on that park bench so many years ago?

Or is it for Vern? Could this be nothing more than a farewell ode to a childhood friend?

While both are possible, neither is true. I understand what this manuscript is now after receiving perspective filtered through twin lenses: time and experience. All these words, hundreds upon thousands, amount to little more than a testament to my heavy remorse. It is an apology. To whom, you ask?

The autumn sun was kissing the lake as I listened to the crisp brown leaves murmur on sleepy branches. Dry husks tumbled from the trees, a shower of brilliant reds and yellows. They drifted upon the crystal waters, sending faint ripples across that mirror surface while I burrowed deeper into my woolen sweater, clutching a warm mug of tea with aging hands. Seasons come and seasons fade.

Camomile and mint tingled my tongue as I sipped the scalding beverage. I watched the falling leaves and felt much like those withered oaks, shedding my youthful appearance in perpetration for the long slumber. My dark hair was streaked with silver. Stubborn wrinkles greeted my reflection, heavy bags sagging beneath these turquoise eyes. Gone were the days when I could turn heads on the street, catching admiring looks from strangers as I hid behind raven curls, warding away lustful gazes.

Perhaps I was just being dramatic. They say your fifties are when you age with grace, but it's really when your body begins to feel the weight of years, mysterious creaks and groans arising when you go about your daily routine.

Feathers rustled behind me, a whisper I'd almost forgotten.

I continued to watch the cascade of dead foliage in the cool wind, warming my hands on the mug. "Hello old friend," I said quietly. "I didn't think you'd ever make an appearance."

He stepped between the setting star and shimmering lake, a familiar shadow obscuring the view. Although my beloved guardian was a silhouette against the copper sky, I could see Vern hadn't aged a single day since I'd last bid our tearful farewells. While that burgundy hair might be styled a bit differently, those umbral wings missing a few pinions, and the linen robes discarded for modern clothing, he was just as I remembered.

Vern leaned forward. I put my tea down and held up my arms, holding him tightly as we embraced. He smelled of exotic places, unknown spices lingering on his skin, and mysterious scents collected in his travels.

"Hell's bells," The fallen angel remarked, his dulcet tone filling my ears. "Has it been that long? It seems like yesterday I left a girl and return to find a silver vixen."

My weary heart swelled with bittersweet pangs as if rediscovering a favorite song. I didn't have the willpower to exchange barbs. All I desired was to cling to this specter, unwilling to part lest Vern evaporated, fearing his appearance was merely the delusion of a forlorn mind.

"You broke your promise," I whispered. "You left me again."

Vern slipped out of my grasp and sat beside me, staring off at the horizon. "I know," He smiled wanly. "Got a bad habit of crossing my fingers."

My feeble hands released old grudges, all resistance melting away in his presence. I leaned against him. He placed an arm over my brittle shoulders as we watched birds fly south for the winter. Somehow, my handsome black swan returned to the nest. Maybe he'd felt the stirrings in his wings, that it was time to find a roost once again.

Leaves danced around us, scattering over brown grass and waving cat-tails, carpeting the lake with vibrant splashes of autumn glory. I was reminded of our island refuge, the broken dock where many summer evenings were spent admiring ocean waves and listening to the mournful seagulls' cries. It was such an odd feeling. Every facet of my life changed and yet it was as though no time had passed at all. I was still that rebellious girl, killing boredom with a wise-cracking demon.

"Tell me where you've been," I nudged him. "I want to hear all about your adventures."

Vern nodded, maroon eyes glazing over as he began to regale me of journeys to far-off continents, war-torn cities, and ancient ruins. I let him ramble on about the people he met, enemies made, friendships kindled, soaking in all the details, laughing at humorous anecdotes, cheering his victories, mourning his losses.

"It's an ugly world," He concluded with a sigh. "And it only seems to be getting worse by the day. Still, there's a few rays of hope to be found here and there."

Vern glanced down at me. "How's your man doing? I saw he's gunning for vice president now, quite a feat."

I rubbed my wedding band thoughtfully. "He's... good. Everyone adores him, I can't recall any politician that genuinely cares more than he does for the general public. August always had a big heart... But I just wish he could find some room in there for me."

"Ah," My companion muttered. "I'm sorry to hear it."

My fingers found his, squeezing gently. "It's alright."

We sat in silence for a while, witnessing the sun slowly vanish over the world's edge. I ran my thumb over Vern's knuckles and wished he came sooner instead of showing up during the twilight of my existence. Better late than never, as he would say. Still, two words haunted me with unspoken regrets. If only, if only.

"Did we make the right choice, back then?" I wondered.

Vern raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? We saved the world, didn't we?"

I nodded. "I know, but... I can't shake the idea that everything is just limping along now. All I did was prolong suffering instead of letting events take their course."

He said nothing as I continued.

"People are still dying out there. Wars are still destroying families, children are starving, poverty is at an all-time high, and corruption is worse than ever. Even August is struggling to push reform bills through his own party. Whenever I turn on the news it makes me want to throw up and curl into a ball. Why did things become so miserable? I didn't really save anyone, did I?"

"Humanity's always been unable to reconcile its greed." Vern shrugged. "You stopped the End of Days... but you can't prevent society from falling back into bad habits."

I looked at my feet, nursing my lukewarm tea. "Maybe we deserve extinction. Centuries of history, countless technological advancements, yet we still can't seem to get along with each other."

"Maybe so. Don't forget, people can still change."

"Yeah."

A crimson sliver peeked over a lake suffocated by fallen leaves. All the bright colors vanished as long shadows crept over the murky waters, leaving only the floating outlines of plant matter. I examined the clogged surface, dark shapes drifting about like silent wraiths. The evening wind grew colder, robbed of warmth.

"Hey, Vern?"

He turned, his countenance shadowed by the dying sunlight. I lifted a hand and touched the angel's face, gliding over raised cheekbones as my withered hand tenderly caressed those aquiline features. Vern gazed at me intently, maroon eyes faintly glinting. A wordless question arose. At long last, I was ready to give him my final answer.

"Kiss me," I breathed as the last rays vanished over the horizon, leaving us shrouded in gloom.

My guardian opened obsidian wings and held me in his arms with a cheeky grin. "And here I thought you'd never ask."