The Worst Job in Heaven

Azrael

Well...um...where do I begin?

Oh, my name of course; Azrael.

Age, 6005 years.

Hair colour, blonde, don't really know why that information necessary but oh well. Occupation... *sigh*... Angel of Death.

I kill when it is one's time to die and be with Yahweh, never violently, and I'm always sure to warn them of their fate. I do not, however, personally take every human, merely the few Yahweh personally decides to "bring home" when he deems appropriate. His reasoning? An idea, I had not, a choice, I also had not, and agree with him, I did not.

If given the option centuries ago I would have IMMEDIATELY changed positions. I mean, Benjamin, my closest friend up in heaven, he's the Commander of our Lord's army! Constantly leading battalions of us angels into glorious wars with the traitors down below!

Gabriel, an Archangel like myself, oversees the lower angels and manages them, all the while living comfortably in the Lord's palace. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but I wouldn't mind luxurious living for ONE day. *sigh* but no... I'm always out and about on the earth, carrying out the biddings of God, albeit the darkest ones.

Oh, don't doubt it for a second, not everything Yahweh does is pretty, necessary of course, but not pretty. "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away", I am the vessel through which He 'taketh' away. I did not come, however, to steal, kill, and destroy, only to reclaim what was rightfully the Lord's; your spirits.

Not all whom I reaped from the earth continued worshiping Yahweh at their end, for countless reasons, but for those who did, those who collapsed upon their knees and repented, I found myself pondering the same two questions many times:

Did they accept Him out of love, or desperation? And why did Yahweh choose them for death?

I am Azrael, The Angel of Death, and the following recounts are of reapings that forever changed my view on life, death, and God.