The following story is an original work. It may not be reproduced or published elsewhere without the author's permission.
To obtain permission or to get more info, contact Scuttles@ScaryPlace.com.
A Story in 4 Installments:
Lost Souls
Installment 1by David Brookes
Copyright 2001 All rights reserved
davidbrookesuk@yahoo.co.uk
"I don't get it," Mikhyl said. "Am I dead?"
Beside him the angel was silent, the feathery wings hung from his back fluttered slightly as he moved. Before him Mikhyl saw the wreck of the car, the light from the noon sun bouncing brilliantly off the glass and glaring snow. The cold Moscow wind didn't sting his skin any more, as it had done all his life, and it felt strange now. The light didn't hurt his eyes as it should have done. He knew as he stared at the crushed car that he should be able to smell smoke. He couldn't.
"I crashed?"
"You did," replied the winged finger beside him. A sigh escaped it's blue lips. "You should not have."
Mikhyl moved towards the window of the car, not realizing that he hadn't left footprints in the snow, and peered at the bloody figure by the wheel. "That's ... Me."
It wasn't a question.
The angel didn't walk, instead he flapped the huge wings slightly, rose and landed beside him. "I was sent to retrieve you. Maybe you can go back. Maybe not."
"I don't want to go back. Not to that." He continued to stare at the bloodied corpse slumped forwards in the seat. He finally looked up as he realized the world seemed dull to him; less colour, just a steady blue blanket that blotted the flare from the sun.
"Where am I?"
"This is where you go after death. You are a lost soul, Mikhyl Rhuzovich, and this is the Netherworld. I was sent to take you to where you belong."
"Please ... Where? Where do I belong?"
The angel had blue skin, white, fluffy wings. It's eyes sparkled with heavenly light as it gave it's deliberate answer. "You were not meant to die now. This was not the Design. The blue glow around you is the only difference between the Netherworld and the land of the living. It is a mix, of the Heavenly and Earthly planes. I shall take you now to the next level of death."
The Russian eyed the stranger. "I am to go to Heaven?"
"To see my master," the angel told him. "Then it shall be decided."
...
Mikhyl couldn't draw his eyes away from the wreck of his former car. The crushed Mustang he had had imported from America. The flaked, scorched and scarred blue paint was now black and rusted. He could almost smell the spilled gasoline that was leaking from the back end of the car.
As he looked the Moscow snow reflected colours, blue and red. His head turned to down the road and he saw the flashing of approaching police-cars, fire-engines through the blue haze of the Netherworld. He assumed there would be an ambulance as well.
The angel had moved closer, and spoke in his ear. "We must hurry, Earthling. This place is dangerous to those who linger ... "
"What does that mean?" the man asked.
"If you stay here for too long you will start to deteriorate. Your spectral form will begin to vanish, and your eternal soul will start to become mortal and weak. Your form will fade away until you are barely visible to other souls such as yourself, you voice will fade away until it is too weak to be heard. This existence is not preferable to what you could be."
"And what is that, angel?"
"You could become like me, a servant of the Heavens. You would become part of our armies and help to protect those of your former plane."
Mikhyl stopped and thought carefully. "How come I did not go straight to heaven? Was I not worthy?"
The angel now faced him completely, its back to the oncoming collection of emergency service vehicles. "The lost souls are brought here after death. Souls that are complete, that are given purpose and pray during life, are taken straight towards the Heavenly gates immediately. The Netherword becomes the home to the souls that are not complete, that are taken when the Design has not planned it to be so."
"My death was an accident?"
"Exactly. The ruler of Heaven plans the deaths of every man woman and child of Earth when they are created, a simple seed inside the egg of the mother nine months before birth. Your plan has yet to come to fruition: it was set, but now something has gone awry ... "
"But does the Ruler not have complete control over everything?" the Russian asked the angel.
The angel laughed in reply. It was the first time it had showed any emotion. "Even He Himself cannot control everything. Sometimes things beyond His control go wrong, and this is where the victims come to. Lost souls are very rare, Mr. Rhuzovich."
The man wanted to sit, but didn't feel tired, nor weak. He looked up at the angel and asked, "Is this the work of the Devil?"
Another laugh replied. "The war between the Heavens and the pits of Hell have long since vanquished. The Devil was defeated Centuries upon Centuries ago, and now there is only once place souls can go, where people are not punished, but forgiven. The light of Heaven fills the soul with knowledge and that knowledge shows the soul it has done wrong. They are instantly forgiven - all that remains now are the three planes; the Earthly plane, the Heavenly plain, and the Netherworld, the in-between, where we now stand."
The ambulances and fire-engines and police cars had arrived, and now the men had rushed out. Mikhyl watched as they pulled his own mortal body from the wreckage of the car. His eyes trailed down and he remembered the leak ...
"There's a leak," he told the angel. "There could be an explosion - I have to warn them!"
"That is not possible, I am afraid," the angel said. "It is all the Design of the Ruler ... "
"We can't let them die here!"
"It is planned!"
Mikhyl looked away from the angel, shocked and afraid, at the men worked at prying open the riveted door that blocked their access to his body. There wasn't much time, he had to warn them! He attempted to put a hand on the shoulder of the nearest fireman ... His hand passed through the shoulder and back into the non-air of the Netherworld. On the spectral plane he could not touch ... But could he be heard? He shouted, screamed at the man, but his voice did not enter the man's ear. He turned to another, and another, but non heard his cries of warning.
The sparks from the severed wires inside the body of the car were becoming more frequent, and by the time Mikhyl had given up trying to warn the men they had ignited the trail of gasoline by the engine of the old Mustang and a massive explosion was about to rush through the car, through the men...
...
The Russian and the angel were left untouched. Mikhyl stood as the fire blasted through him, leaving him unhurt and unharmed. He could not feel the searing heat that now struck through the men around the car, and his wails of painful frustrations could not be heard over the roar of licking flames.
The angel put a solid hand on his shoulder and said, "Come, forget this incident. Already the souls of these men are in Heaven, the pain forgotten, their new spectral forms enjoying the knowledge and forgiveness of the Holy light."
Mikhyl was crying.
"Let's leave, Mr. Rhuzovich. It is time for your audience with the Ruler of Heaven."
...
The angel looked confused, then shocked, then angry, all in the space of a few seconds. It's blue face turned into a scowl.
"What's the matter?" Mikhyl asked. "I cannot transport," he replied. "We are blocked from the Heavens."
"What does that mean?"
"We can't get access to the gates of Heaven - something is blocking us." He looked at the Russian. "I believe you are the problem."
"What? How can I be the problem?!"
"Lost souls have no place in Heaven. You do not belong there, you belong here, in the Netherworld, until the problem has been solved."
"So what do we do?" The man shuffled uncomfortably in the snow.
"I shall see the Ruler by myself, and it will be decided."
Mikhyl looked at the angel and nodded. "Of course."
There was a flash and the angel started to fade away into the blue murkiness of the Netherworld, and then a flash, a swirl of moving light. The angel disappeared, and Mikhyl was left on his own, alone in the strange blue land of the Netherworld. What strange creatures inhabited this place? What other lost souls wandered this land, alone and afraid, as he was. Was he, Mikhyl Rhuzovich, the only soul here? And what news would the angel bring back upon his return? Good, or bad?
Mikhyl sat down where he was standing on the snow that wasn't cold and looked out over the landscapes.