The Fifth Archangel

Epilogue: Back at it Again

In honor of The Fifth Archangel's first anniversary, I wrote an epilogue. Sorry if it's not what you expected or envisioned.

Heaven's not as nice as they make it out to be. I mean, sure, for a couple days, it was nice not having to look behind my back every second, and not having to deal with monsters and demons and shit like that. But after a few days, the peace got boring.

I craved adventure, excitement, the rush of adrenaline.

So I went to work, combing through every file on every living human, trying to find an long-lost relative of Rebecca Blackwell to be my next vessel. No one checked up on me; no one came to ask what I was doing. It was just me and millions of dusty files that hadn't been touched since, well, since ever.

It was a day in heaven like every other day in Heaven, angels milling around, no one questioning the archangel sitting in the dark room staring endlessly at a computer screen, when I found someone. She was Rebecca's fifth cousin, once removed. Her name was Ondine Blackwell. And she was a positive match.

I jumped up from my chair, closing the laptop and rushing out of the room. One of the angels--I didn't know him--looked at me funny, but asked no questions.

Stepping down one of the many long hallways, I made my way to door 42, the door out. I pushed on it. Nothing. It didn't move an inch.

I pressed harder, putting all my weight into it. The door still wouldn't budge.

"Where are you off to, archangel?" Hannah's familiar voice echoed off the hallway's walls.

I turned to face Hannah. "I'm going back."

"Back-- back to Earth?"

"Yes."

"But your vessel... it was destroyed."

I leaned against the door. "Yes, and I found a new one. A match."

"Impossible."

"Nothing's impossible." I said nonchalantly. "When did you start locking the door back?"

She didn't have a comeback for that one. Hannah frowned, but waved a hand dismissively. The door made a clicking sound. She turned, not saying a word, and walked away, down the white, endless hallway.

I breathed in, then pressed the door. It swung open in a burst of light.

I came out of the light in a sandbox. Standing up, I looked around. It was midday, and around me, there were a half-dozen kids playing around. Not one was looking at me or the glowing sandbox.

I came to the un-educated guess that I and the sandbox were invisible, since that seemed like the only explanation, unless this park was full of blind kids.

But that seemed improbable.

I teleported to Ondine, up somewhere in the mountains of Washington. The air was crisp, and the trees were swaying against a crystal-clear blue sky. There was a quaint grey house in front of me, a red door standing out in among the nature.

I knocked, hard, on the red wood, willing the invisibility away.

The door opened, and a young women stepped out. She had orangey-red hair, soft blue eyes, and a round nose. Her eyes raked up and down my face, full of suspicion.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice tinny but firm.

"I'm- well- it's complicated who I am. May I come in?"

She didn't move. "I said, who are you?"

"My name is Keistelle."

Her gaze hardened. "I haven't heard that name in many, many years." She stared at me for a second. Her voice changed from suspicious and tense to warm and welcoming. "Do come in."