Finding Mercy

Chapter Three

Fear shot through me, splitting my newfound calm like an axe. His face was contorted into its customary friendly half-smile, but where there was usually a glimmer to his eye there was only a blank, glazed void. "Jan?" I called, my voice regrettably panicked. What if this was just a glitch--everything has glitches; even heaven must have them.

He just stared at me: stared, with sinister, unblinking eyes, Bleached fog twirled around its depths. And suddenly, his smile took on a different feel--nothing about its form had changed--but now it brimmed with an evil type of confidence that felt to me like it was certain it could overcome me.

A rusty creak issued from his jaw as he opened it to speak: "You will not find yourself...you will not find safety...you will never find yourself...never...never...until..."

I stare in mystification at him. What was happening? His voice had taken on a baritone echo, one that in my imagination belonged to an apparition of the ages. And the worst thing was that the voice didn't sound threatening: it sounded pitiful, worried...warning.

"Until what?" I whispered. There was no one here--as far as I knew, that's what I thought earlier--but I felt this urge to keep secret whatever Jan was going to say to me.

"...You must find mercy. Find mercy, woman, you must."

Find mercy.

The words struck me to the core. They had some significance, I knew it--call it my sixth sense, but whatever sense that might be hadn't failed to predict what was in this house. It wasn't just a warning, it was a challenge... a challenge that would have some consequences if I failed. And who knew what lay beyond the distant iron gates of that challenge, who knew what kind of reward it would hold. Happiness? Simplicity? The true embodiment of heaven? Or, maybe, thank Go---I mean, Lord, closure...

I wasn't an idiot. It had only been a few hours, but I knew that in my past identity was a collection of secrets and mistakes; there had to be a reason my mind wiped the memories away--they were too painful, or too embarrassing, or...too dangerous?

And maybe it was connected to mercy. The mercy I had yet to find. For mercy is forgiveness, and I guess there had to be something to forgive, right?

I couldn't be forgiven unless I knew what I did that needed to be forgiven.

In that moment, something changed. It had the consistency of an electric pulse, of something slipping over an icy precipice and soaring, falling though it didn't feel that way, and knowing that even if it was a long way down to the ground, I was going to hit it anyway.

It was the beginning of a new era for me, even if the last one was a mere day or so, even if the last era was my downfall. Funny how quickly an angel can change their mind about things.

Footsteps glided outside. My first thought was, they should be pounding. But they were gliding. I flung open the back door, wielding my forearm over my forehead, but the blinding white light still slipped around its bounds and made my eyes ache. My hand gripped Jan so tightly that my hand shook and turned pink. His body quivered in my hands. My wings folded protectively against my shoulder blades. And then, I felt the pull.

The pull. Like a giant trying to suck me in with its invisible breath. I closed my eyes, and the light spun through. Something about this felt so, so wrong. Was I supposed to be scared in heaven?

Just before the pull dragged me off my feet, I opened my eyes and saw it. The purplish vortex, twirling with graceful violence before me. It was so beautiful. So wild.

Then I gave in to the pull.

I felt myself flying. I felt the emptiness of the air beneath my feet, and I smelled the sweet nothingness around me. I felt myself racing the light, sprinting alongside me in determined beams, and I felt myself winning. I saw the time slow down, and I saw it go at the same time, so much faster. And then, it what could have been seconds or could have been eternity, it all ended.

I stumbled onto the white, ever-changing ground, dancing around me like mist and swarming to support me and Jan. "A cloud," I commented, noddiing my head approvingly. "Just like folklore."

The footsteps glided.

I looked up, and needless to say, I blanched. They were there. The angels. Their wings were hanging submissively off their backs. Their robes graced the ground. Their heads were bowed. They didn't look like they were alive.

I cant say how many of them there were. Hundreds. Thousands, maybe. All marching in perfect unison. None of them cast a second glance to the red-haired angel, with a shivering blond boy in her grasp. "Mercy," he murmured. He had gone limp now, and his eyes were closed. Evil was draining from his face. It left him thin and weak and tired. "Find mercy, you must."

The gliding was so loud; I found it hard to bear. It glided its way through my mind, through my heart, and what made me hurt was that people definitely, 100% deserved to be here. I wasn't sure about that. I didn't even know who I was.

I knelt down next to Jan, trying in vain to block out the sounds of people marching, marching, marching in perfection. "Wake up Jan," I tried again. He stirred, and his eyes opened into slits.

"Sia?" he said. "Will you--will you find mercy?"

"Yes," I said. With absolute conviction. "I promise you, I will find mercy." But first, I have to find myself.

Then, with one swift movement, his wings unfurled, and he soared from my grasp. My fingers jerked away, and I saw him alight on the clouds yet again, but this time, he was standing, no, marching. No different than any of the other angels. Almost brainless.

"Humilitas est virtus, est mundat dolor. Oboediemus. Et egredientur."

The words rose from the crowd in waves. Beating me like a drum. Somewhere, I caught Jan's voice. "Misericordiam consequetur."

Find mercy.

I sank to the ground. I wanted to scream, but I didn't know why. I just wanted to know why this was so suddenly happening. Was this simply what happened in heaven? Maybe that was why it disturbed me so much. Because this--having strange seizures, marching together chanting--was normal, not scary, and I wasn't normal.

I wasn't normal.

As quickly as it had begun, the chanting stopped. The gliding faded into swirling mist and stilled feet. Some of the angels walked into the mist and vanished into the purple vortices. Others gathered into groups and chatted casually. I rose slowly from my knees and approached the crowd. None of them paid me any heed, and I couldn't decide whether or not I was relieved or disappointed.

The mist cleared somewhat, and above me, the sky was blue-purple, like water falling into darkness. I saw others who, like me, drifted alone.

Then, I saw him.

It was the hair I saw first. Chestnut. Curled. Then, his eyes. The green cut through the remaining wisps. And it was with those eyes that I knew something. I knew him.

And with that thought, guilt washed me over.

I knew him.

I killed him.