God's Gone AWOL

[1] The Grand Finale

[EPISODE 1: CINNAMON]

If a painter ever were to make an attempt at turning the word "Sorrow" into a piece of artwork, they would end up with the exact image of that morning on Pomegranate Hill.

Mist encased the small hillside. The sun hadn't risen yet, and even if it had, the rain clouds gathering overhead wouldn't choose to let it shine. Despite this, the flowers that littered the grass below the tree were starting to open anyway. The place was beautiful, but dark. Similar to the ruins of a once-great temple or a broken statue, it was nothing more than a remnant of a different time —a different world.

Two headstones were buried in the rose bushes, side by side. They were cross-shaped, as many headstones are, only these two had been placed upside-down like the cross of Saint Peter. One was older, and already bore both its name and epitaph. The other was brand new and completely blank. This headstone belonged to Bentley.

Someone stood before the set of stones. His face was blank and his movements were still. Two solid black eyes were fixed on the new stone, struggling to focus on it. Two black leathery wings were laying helplessly at his sides. Two curved, black daggers hung on either side of his waist. And even though this particular demon always wore black, his clothing seemed especially somber in the light of the occasion. He looked lost, empty, and annoyed all at the same time.

This, of course, was none other than Xander Hellbourne. The only survivor out of the original three Hellbourne siblings. Although his reputation wasn't quite as large and unwieldy as those of either of his deceased sisters, he had also accidentally made quite a name for himself among his own kind. Being both a resentful war hero and a major politician in the realm of Hell was enough to get some attention.

And now he was even more famous as the last surviving member of his family, although that would never be something he would take pride in.

With a sigh, Xander flicked his hand and two words traced themselves out on the stone in front of him.

Bentley Hellbourne.

After this, he stopped again. There was nothing worth writing after that —no words came to mind that Bentley would stand having above her grave for all of eternity. So Xander just found himself staring blankly at the stone again.

"You trying to come up with a good epitaph?" asked a voice behind him.

Another person had arrived. Even though the ages of ethereal beings such as demons had no affect on their physical appearance, the face of Smythe was older than Xander's, as seemed to be her mind. She walked up beside him on the hillside and gave him a look. Her eyes were kind, and filled with the sorrow that the other demon's couldn't seem to reflect yet.

"She'd kill us if we write something too ordinary," Xander replied "I need something... something like her."

At this, Smythe laughed a little.

"'A creature born to make noise and wreak havoc.'?" she suggested.

Xander didn't laugh. Smythe's statement was actually an accurate description of how his sister had been during her life. But he knew Bentley would probably find some way to slap him over the head through the afterlife if he put that on her headstone.

He scanned his brain for any alternatives and came up with nothing.

"I don't know. Maybe I should just leave it blank. Demons aren't even supposed to have graves anyway."

"Bentley wasn't a normal demon," said Smythe, "She doesn't need a normal send-off. Also, I think she'd be happier here... beside her sister."

She nodded towards the other headstone. Centuries ago, Bentley had carved the name with her bare hands. Even though many years had passed, the name was still written in the stone, as clear as ever: