Angels and Demons

The Beginning

In life, you're given a role to play. Some say that it's all a small part of God's big plan, some say that it's you who decides what your life is to be. I, however, am somewhere in the middle. I was given a role by God, but I ended up creating more of that role on my own. I'm thankful to know now that the role I chose for myself not only helped improve the lives of others but ended up improving my own existence as well.

They say every human has a shoulder demon and angel, right? Well, I didn't know it then, but I ended up falling in love with someone else's demon. And part of the reason happened the day I fell into the Underworld.

I had to have been about six years old. At that age, young angels usually follow their parents to the Land of the Living. For you see, for us in Heaven, things were, well, different than how most humans thought. We angels were born, not created from the Souls of the Departed, those former Land of the Living dwellers who died and earned the right to live eternally in paradise. Some of us angels had certain roles to play: granting miracles, welcoming Souls of the Departed. But the greatest honor any angel could have was definitely becoming a Guardian Angel. Most angels born of the original Archangels of Heaven were granted this honor when they came of age.

But as children of the Archangels, we follow our parents to the Land of the Living to learn how to be Guardian Angels. Knowing how to guide our assigned humans to the path of righteousness and show them how they can do more to help other humans. My mother and father would often take me to the Land of the Living to do just that. My sisters, all many years older than me at the time, already had their times to walk about the Land of the Living to know these things, but I had much to learn.

One day, during a trip to a place in the Land of the Living that went by the name Rust Bank, I was following my mother around a local cemetery. At the time, she was assigned to be the Guardian Angel of a lonesome and widowed gravedigger. And while she was talking alongside her human, I was playing around the graves and trying to catch some butterflies. Normally, Mother would've kept a closer watch on me whenever I played in the Land of the Living, but that day, she hardly paid any attention to me. If she had, I wouldn't have fallen into that hole.

I wasn't too scared when I was falling, it was more of the shock of what had happened that got to me if I'm to be honest. And when I finally reached ground again, I found myself landing on some odd soft rock in an even odder sort of place. It looked like a cavern, but with no other exits other than the hole I fell through. I looked to see where I had landed, only to find that surrounding the soft rock was a vast pool of boiling hot oil. I dared not to swim in it, knowing that it could hurt me.

I started to get more scared at that thought. I was in a strange place, with no way out unless I hurt myself. And an angel at my age has no wings to fly out. No way I could've escaped. No one was there to save me. I looked up at the hole I fell in and called out for my mother.

"MOMMY!"

No answer came. My mother didn't show up or hear my cries for help. I was stuck in this strange place with no one to help save me. I sat down on the soft rock, my eagle-like legs were huddled up to my chin as I wrapped my arms around them for comfort. I started crying softly as I buried my head into my knees, mortified at the idea that I would never see my mother again.

However, it turns out that someone else down there heard me.

The rock underneath me started to move. I tried scrambling onto something to try and keep me from falling into the oil, but when I found what I thought was a large branch to hold onto, I gasped when I realized that I wasn't on a rock at all. That branch I had found was a dark blue clawed finger. I was in the palm of some creature's hand. And I got to see what this creature was when he brought me up to his face.