TheMadmanAndre
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Surprise, Exorcise, Vanish Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2024-04-14 07:30:55 +0000 UTCThe gates closed behind Ontos with a whisper as he gazed upon Paradise for the first time.
His eyes settled on the vast forum-like space, at once equally opulent and modest. He used the word in the Latin sense, as the greco-Roman architecture of the place all but called for it. Around him to either side were groups of two or three or sometimes more, people that seemed to be waiting for someone. Their eyes settled on him, perhaps wondering if he was the one.
He was not. Or at least, he very much doubted it. More likely they were waiting for relatives or loved ones to arrive as he did. He recalled that conversation, a moment and an eternity ago. A purpose, similar to the undertaking he had burdened himself with in life, but altogether wildly different and far greater in scope.
Behind him, the gates once more opened. He stepped forward to make way for the newcomer. They were a small child, perhaps a young boy. Two of the people standing off to the side dashed over to embrace him, scooping them up in their arms and wings in a tearful reunion.
For a moment, he wondered if there was anyone amongst the small crowds gathered that were waiting for him, like a relative holding a sign for disembarking passengers at the airport. A loved one, a relative or an old friend. He hadn’t had many, from any of those groups.
Ontos doubted it. None of the faces that looked to his were ones he recognized. A part of him wondered if his parents were there, somewhere. But he doubted they were. Neither had been good people in life, and once upon a time he had very good reasons for enlisting on his seventeenth birthday, so long ago now.
By his nineteenth they were both dead and buried in a potter’s field. His father had died in a drug deal gone horribly wrong, a rival gang deciding they wanted the drugs and the money. His mother’s death soon after had perhaps been more peaceful, a simple drug overdose.
Ontos looked away from the reunion. Unbidden memories had soured an otherwise happy mood that had been growing. With nothing else keeping him there, he walked away, his feet carrying him down the golden boulevard and whatever lay beyond.
--==--
Everything was clean.
That was what stood out to Ontos the most. The… cleanliness of it all. Everything looked well kept and brand new, as if it had all just been built, the scaffolding removed and contractors vacated moments before his arrival. The glass in the windows gleamed, the stone and brickwork of the buildings was immaculate. Metalwork shone as if polished. Even the pavers he tread upon were free of grime and dirt.
Fellow people, angels? Walked along the grandiose boulevard as he did. Said avenue was a wide one, with commercial shops and boutiques all along its length. Above those soared gleaming skyscrapers, their facades reflecting the bright sun from above.
To someone like him, it was well and truly breathtaking. He remembered a star-studded boulevard similar to this one, in a so-called city of angels. It was as much a far cry as anything could be from that desiccated place. Filthy streets, urban decay. A populace bereft of hope. It was funny that in his youth, he had once thought of it as the best place on Earth.
How naive he had been. It had been something he had realized in those last days. Despite being in such a position of power, he’d been so… so ignorant of the truth, of the reality of the world. And when he had finally seen it, beheld what pay past that masquerade with his own eyes? The truth had been blinding.
Ontos came to a stop. He had wandered off of the main drag and into a quiet and secluded park, a rounded space off to the side of the grand boulevard he had been strolling along. It was a sheltered place, at the center of which stood a great oak surrounded by a ring of soft grass, and a further ring of cobblestones.
It was something he had been a little slow to realize, just how… walkable, everything felt. It felt odd to him, like so much of Heaven did. He’d been accustomed to a commute to work in a government sedan, the soft voices of public radio during the drive. The closest he’d ever come to this experience were old Italian cities like Florence and Venice, built centuries before the concept of motor vehicles.
Looking up at the sky above him, he saw people flying up there to and fro, in groups large and small. There were other creatures there, perhaps people or something else. He observed beings made of wings, feathers, eyes and light. Were they like him, or some form of natural denizen of this realm?
More questions on a growing list.
He continued along the cobbled path, onto the grassy knoll and up to the great oak. The tree provided shade to the otherwise sunny space, its branches almost reaching out to touch the walls of nearby buildings. He found he quite liked the space.
Reaching out to the tree, he placed a hand upon it, feeling the rough bark on his skin. His hand was soft, sensitive and uncalloused, with a lighter skin tone than he remembered. There was a feeling of incongruity, of fleeting dysmorphia. It was gone as soon as it came.
He had no idea what he looked like.
He needed a mirror, a reflection, something. His eyes fell on a nearby drinking fountain, an old design reminiscent of those from old Europe, except instead of wrought iron and stonework it was all polished gold and silver.
He strode off the shady knoll, over to the fountain to lean down and inspect himself in the mirror. He was… Handsome was the first thought that came to his mind. The face in the mirror had a passing resemblance to the face he remembered, but only just. His skin was shades lighter, his blue eyes were shades bluer. His nose a little shorter, chin a little longer, both more pointed.
His hands found his hair. He remembered it being dark brown, but now it had been bleached to platinum blond. Above his head floated a halo, glowing from within as if made of solid light. There were a series of five ornate eyes around its length, with spikes pointing outward from above and below each.
He reached up to touch it, to grasp it. Experimentally he tugged on it, feeling how it seemed to be almost magnetically attracted to the space right above his head. He pulled it free, bringing it down to inspect it. The material almost defied classification to his inspection. It was as if it were made of crystal, steel and glass all at once.
The impression he was left with was of it being forged by hands far beyond those that held it. It most likely was.
He let his halo be for the moment, the ring of crystal-metal floating back up past his brow. His clothing was almost regal, in some sense of the word. A fine robe, that despite its form-fitting appearance still somehow comfortable on his frame. He looked down at his feet and noticed the shoes he wore, a pair of simple brown loafers partially hidden by his robe.
Personally, he preferred a nice suit and quality pair of dress shoes. To his mortal sensibilities it was… a bit much, and far too casual. But it was better by far than a t-shirt and jeans at least.
And finally there were his wings. All six of them. He had been distantly aware of them, limbs that felt seldom used yet well worn all the same. Experimentally he flexed them, stretched them, and felt the sensation of air moving around them. His wingspan was easily double his height-
“You seem lost.”
At some point while he’d been lost in his thoughts, a group of people had joined him in the park. More specifically, a group of children like the one he’d seen follow after him earlier. They were perhaps all in their early teens, or close to it. One of them had broken away from the rest of the group to tug on his robe.
Their androgynous appearances made it hard to guess at a glance if they were boys or girls. They all wore plain, pastel clothing, which complicated it further. A couple of them wore robes like he did, while the rest wore pants and shirts. They had halos and wings like he did, though none had more than a single pair. Beyond that, a few of them were holding picnic baskets. He gauged that the one by side was the ringleader, or at least the oldest and tallest. Certainly the bravest.
“I am not lost,” he explained. “Not all those that wander are.”
“You’re poking and prodding your face like you’re lost in it.”
Ontos cracked a smile. He had a sense of humor.
“Hey Billie, don’t pester the big one, please?” Another of the group behind the leader spoke.
Billie called back over his shoulder, “I’m just asking is all.”
“Billie?” Ontos asked.
The boy looked up at him. “Yeah! Wait, how’d you know my name?”
Ontos couldn’t help but crack a smile. “That’s what your friend here called you, no?”
“Oh. Oh, right,” Billie scratched his head. “They’re my brothers and sisters.”
“I see.” None of the children had what he’d call a familial resemblance to one another. Save one pair, but he reasoned that they might have been twins. The features of the two were indistinguishable along with their wings and halos. A foster family, perhaps?
“Oh! There you all went!” A voice called out to their general direction. Ontos glanced over to the way he came, toward a woman that was flying toward them. Her wings flared just shy of them, and the gusts of wind kicked up by her wings ruffled his own. He could feel the wind gusting through his feathers, and the electric sensations made him shiver. “I was worried sick!”
“Billie just really wanted to make sure the park was empty,” One of the twins tattled.
“Kids, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you don’t have to rush here. You have all the time in the world.” The woman patted down her light blue dress, as if to dust herself off. “Apologies sir,” the woman curtly bowed to him, “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Ontos regarded the woman closely. He had passed other angels, other people, but he had given them all a wide berth. Up close, the woman seemed fairly normal, besides her wings and halo. Fair skin, full lips and bottle green eyes accented by a smattering of freckles. Her golden blonde hair was all bound up into a single long braid that reached down almost to her knees.
“They didn’t,” he answered. “I wasn’t aware this space was reserved.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, not really. Nothing formal, just these rascals wanted to have a picnic beneath the tree.”
“I see.” It would explain the picnic baskets. “I suppose I stopped for a rest here myself.”
“Would you like to join us?” The woman asked him.
“I…” Ontos trailed off. The coterie of children had migrated to the base of the tree, where they busied themselves with laying out a blanket and breaking down the baskets’ contents. “I wouldn’t want to impose myself.”
“Nonsense, it’s not every day we get a seraphim down from Administration,” the woman said, stretching out a hand. “I’m Lisa, by the way. I take care of them.”
“Ontos,” he replied, leaning down to shake her hand. Despite, from his perspective, how… dainty, his hands felt to him, Hers was practically swallowed by his. It was almost comical, how small it seemed…
He realized why, glaringly late. It wasn’t that she was so small, no. He was so big. He had leaned down to shake her hand. He had leaned down to see his face in the mirrored surface of the fountain a moment before, which would have been eye level for Lisa. His hand had swallowed Saint Peter’s, back outside the gate, and he hadn’t realized it.
He looked down at Lisa. He wagered that the young woman might’ve been about as tall as he’d thought he himself was supposed to be, at five-nine or so. But he towered head, shoulders and even chest above her.
“Is something wrong?” Lisa asked him, looking up.
“No,” Ontos lied, gently letting go of her hand. “It’s just that I’ve… recently arrived here.” He wasn’t sure how else to phrase it. “I am still a little unsure in regards to things.” He was still a good liar, coolly playing off his internal turmoil.
“Oh. Ooh. I… I didn’t realize.” A moment passed in silence. “I haven’t been here very long myself, just a few years.”
“Are they your children?”
“Yes. Well, no, not exactly,” Lisa stammered, shaking her head. “I… never had any children. I had wanted them, but then I, well…”
“I understand, you don’t have to talk about it.”
“I look after them,” she explained, smiling. “There are plenty of children that arrive before their parents. And, well, it’s the least I can do. Look after them until they’re grown, or until their parents arrive and are able to care for them.”
“I see.” His earlier suspicion had been confirmed. Not only that, Lisa was a sort of foster parent and guardian for children whose parents had not yet passed on. “You called me a seraphim a moment ago. What did you mean by that, if I may ask?”
Lisa blinked. “Well, that’s what you are. Aren’t you? The wings give it away, only the seraphim have that many. I think. And, well,” she gestured up at him, “You’re pretty tall too, like Lady Sera is. Well, she’s huge, like a lamppost, but you’re pretty tall too.”
Ontos sensed Lisa might’ve been a fan of this Sera, whoever she was. “I wouldn’t mind meeting her.”
“Most of the seraphim here in the Old City live within The Palace,” Lisa explained. “Or, at least that’s what I was told once. They’re apparently very busy all the time.”
“And where could I find The Palace?” he asked.
“It’s at the end of the Boulevard,” Lisa answered with a smile. “If you keep going down the Boulevard away from the Gates, you’ll reach the Palace.”
Ontos visualized the places in his head, a map taking shape. Pins in a corkboard, with thread running between them. He would inevitably find his way to said Palace, but at the moment? He had no interest in going there, not yet at least. He needed more information. Not just places, but people too.
“Tell me, Lisa,” he asked, “Do you know of any restaurants or eateries nearby? Places with perhaps a friendly face behind the counter.”
The question made the young woman smile. “I know a wonderful place! I take the kids there all the time.” A glowing endorsement, almost literally with how her smile beamed. “It’s called Slice of Life, they serve shawarma. Sandwiches, wraps, even over chips.” She pointed towards its general direction. “It’s just a few doors down the way, back down the path to the left.”
“Shawarma sounds wonderful right now,” Ontos smiled.
“It does. I might visit it tomorrow.”
“Then I will leave you all be, Lisa. I suspect your children might devour all the sandwiches without you.”
“They would,” she smiled. “It was nice meeting you, Ontos.”
“Same to you.” Ontos turned and left back the way he came, Lisa returning to Billie and the rest of their group. He mused he might see them again, or perhaps not.
If Heaven was anything like LA, then you could get lost forever on its streets. But LA would also eat you alive if you weren’t careful, as an acquaintance had so aptly put it. It had been something that he in his youth had learned first hand, and reaffirmed quite literally in those last days.
Hopefully that wasn’t the case here.
