Divide the Sky

Chapter 1: Living Dead Guy

Tyler abandoned his broken body. His soul broke through into the next world and plunged down through storming waves. Rushing air became water, roaring in his ears and dragging at his clothes and hair. Grey waves wrapped tight around him, filling his bones with the chill of another world.

His brain still blazed with the fear of the fall and his chest felt too tight to breathe. He fought upwards through the churning sea until he broke the surface, pushing for the shore until the tide took over.

Tyler floated into the shallows and collapsed on frozen sand, throwing up seawater. Sand stung his eyes. The frost warmed under his jet-black fingertips, and he tried to focus on that.

He was dead. He was in the afterlife, somewhere, and he had to figure out where and what threats would be lurking. Tyler and Rafael had tortured angels before and forced out their secrets about what happened after death. Most of them only knew about Heaven, which was useless. They'd never see those pearly gates.

But he'd stockpiled every little piece of information they dragged out about Hell. After all, it paid to be prepared. Those captured angels had been very clear that Hell was where they'd both be heading.

These first few moments were crucial. It was vital to stay focussed, keep it together, and not get lost in being dead. What he didn't know was where to actually go, now he'd arrived.

Tyler reached for every coping mechanism he could think of, trying to ground himself in the moment. Pushing back memories of his own bones snapping and the way his brain jumped from frantic panic to stuttering juddering failing—

Stop. Try again. Stay grounded. You chose this, so get off your arse and deal with it.

He took a few shuddering breaths, spitting saltwater and sand. The beach was grey with early morning half-light, and the soft rush of the tide was the only sound. There were no gulls above, nobody walking along the tide. Not good. Daylight meant danger. This place was too exposed, open to any aerial eyes.

A tiny part of him thrilled at the thought of seeing, for the first time, an actual demon.

Tyler took off his shoes and socks, stripping off his finery. He'd dressed in his very finest for his last day: three-piece suit, a proper tie instead of a clip-on, lucky boxers. He'd even shaved, and the nick on his jaw that proved it stung from the saltwater.

Now most of it was waterlogged and useless—the waistcoat and tie he left on the beach; the socks and shoes he carried. He left his shirt and suit jacket on out of fondness rather than sense, shivering as the wet fabrics sunk down into his skin.

Apart from his crunching steps the only sounds were waves against the rocks, sweeping in a thick wall of sea haar.

Anything with a sharp edge went in his pockets: razor shells, broken stones. A piece of sea glass, still ragged at the edges, which bit his hand when he held it.

He still bled, then. Good to know.

Before he could make it into the shadows of the sea-cliffs, he heard the muffled thud and swish of an angel landing and kicking up sand. A familiar sound, horrifying in its feather-softness. Tyler turned, keeping the cliff at his back and the glass in his hands.

The angel was tall and ginger, freckled across every spare inch of skin, and he sauntered over despite the bulk of white wings at his back. On earth, the angels wore masks. But this one didn't need a mask. Its face was armour enough.

"Rafael," Tyler breathed. He hoped for a moment the angel would look surprised, hoped for a 'no', but the angel looked straight at Tyler's blackened hands and nodded. "Finally, something that makes sense. How many times did we joke about ending up in Hell together?"