Defeating Heaven

Chapter Ten

Rain was pouring outside and the wind was howling wildly.

Rowena cursed madly as she stepped through the mud, stamping across the grass towards the jungle Jim that still seemed so far away and lifting the hem of her dress and cape to avoid them dragging. If weather spells didn't take so long, Rowena would have preformed one by now to stop the water from soaking her to the bone. She could hear the foot steps behind her as the other witches and demons followed behind her.

They were at a park in the middle of Denver, Colorado where an nobody-angel had told them there was a doorway to Heaven. 

Of course, an army of demons and witches couldn't just walk into a park and expect a doorway to open and let them right into Heaven. But Rowena and her friends had spent quite a bit of time looking for a door opening spell. And they had found one that they were sure would work.

All they had to do was find the doorway (which they had been told would be in the sand box) and cast the spell, forcing the door open. It couldn't be much more difficult than that?

Rowena stepped into the park, just feet from the sand box, and stopped. 

"Can't you do anything about this rain, mother?" Crowley demanded as he stomped over to her.

Rowena glared over at him. "Of course I can, Fergus. But those spells take much too long and I'd rather not waste time."

"You are not welcome here," someone interrupted. 

Rowena looked over to see a soccer mom approaching the group, a teenage boy with dark hair and large headphones on her heels. 

"Well hello, Amitiel," Crowley cooed. "It's been a while. When was the last time we saw each other?"

Amitiel--aka the soccer mom--snarled. "Don't play games with us, Crowley. What do you want?"

"To get into Heaven, of course," Crowley said, nonchalantly. "You have something of mine and I want it back. I tried playing nicely--torturing lowlifes and whatnot--but it didn't work. So I'm going to have to do it the long way and force my way into your Monkey Clubhouse."

"You're a demon," the emo kid in the background spat before actually spitting into the ground angrily. "If you took one step into Heaven the wrath of the angels would descend upon you faster than you could blink."

"Haziel," Crowley sneered, "I didn't think I'd be seeing you for another century or so. I thought you were in trouble with the Man Upstairs."

Haziel's frown deepened. "Raphael is dead."

"I know, but your slip up wasn't small--"

"Shut up!" Haziel shouted. "It's not important now."

Crowley held his hands up in surrender, but he was smiling. He knew he'd gotten under the angel's skin. 

"I'm done with the chit-chat," Rowena said, boredom seeping into her words. "Can we get down to business?"

"Yes, mother," Crowley agreed. "We'll take care of these angels. You can cast your spell."

Rowena smiled and returned to the sand box. Amitiel made a move to follow them but a demon appeared in her way. 

"Ah, ah, ah," Crowley sighed. "I can't have you interrupting her spell casting. Why don't you stick around? We'll have our own fun."

* * * * * * * * * * 

The cafe was practically empty. The leather benches at the booths were cracked and the black and white tile floor was scuffed and fading. Malachi looked around at the few occupants. There was a gothic couple in a corner booth sucking face and an couple of old fishermen sitting at the bar. The only two women on duty were dressed in orange dresses and white aprons and were both behind the counter: one was lazily moving a rag back and forth over the counter while the other was making a pot of coffee.

Malachi didn't see how God could possibly be in here. But Gabriel wouldn't have lied to him. If Gabriel lied, he knew what Malachi would do to Sage and it wouldn't be pretty. Malachi could tell that Gabriel cared about Sage more than he cared about himself and probably more than he'd ever cared about anything. Malachi had learned a long time ago to never give anybody that kind of leverage.

He made his way to the counter and slid into a seat down from one of the fishermen.

"What can I get for you?" One of the waitresses--her name tag said Betty--drawled lazily. She was holding a pen and pad of paper in her hands but her eyes were half closed.

"I need to speak with God," Malachi told her. Surely He was around here somewhere. If He wasn't out here, then He must be in the back--cooking food or managing his cover cafe.

This got Betty's attention and she put her hands on her hips, her eyes actually opening and looking down at him. "This ain't a church, mister, and I ain't no preacher. If you're just playing games, I suggest you go somewhere else."

Malachi frowned. "I know He is here and I need to speak with Him." He looked at the waitress in front of him. Why would God have a mortal girl guarding Him? He's an all-knowing, all-powerful being. Why would he need this puny nobody?

Malachi reached forward and gripped Betty's forehead. In a second, her eyes were burned out of her head and she crumpled to the floor. This got everyone in the diner's attention. The other waitress jumped and screamed, dropping the coffee pot on the floor which shattered. The two fishermen jumped off of their bar stools and started screaming curses at the angels in the cafe. The couple in the back jumped back and the girl started screaming.

Malachi got to his feet and looked around. None of these puny human beings were anything special. They weren't even worthy enough to become vessels. Gabriel had lied to him. Even though he knew what would happen to him and to his girlfriend. He had lied.

Malachi screamed and threw his arms wide, disintegrating the humans in the cafe and shattering the windows.