Angel

Chapter 4

Let the dead rise again to join

their past. 

Let the dead rise again to avenge.

Let the Barriers of Death

be broken.

Let the souls be

free.

Twenty-eight words.

Why was I so compelled to say those particular twenty-eight words?

I never thought anymore of those twenty-eight words than fancy lace traveling through my vocal chords and out my sass trap on that fateful day I opened the door of Death.

I was wrong. It's not that simple.

Gods have enemies. And usually, those enemies also hate godlings because of their parents. Somehow, billions of years ago, Mom became the arch nemesis of an evil spirit. This particular spirit also happened to be extremely powerful and had the nasty habit of holding wickedly long grudges until someone paid the ultimate price: their life. On that very day I raised the dead, that evil spirit was targeting me to make my mom pay and for life in all realms to suffer.

So she used her epic powers and controlled me to say one of the worst, twenty-eight word spells to raise the dead.

I'm sure that pissed Mom off. I'm probably going to be grounded for another million years.

***

The death in the air was suddenly wiped away, pulled far out of reach from my senses.

Or it simply disappeared.

But that's impossible.

Or is it ... ?

I felt threads of life, but life was no longer cut short. The threads had been restored, but ...

The new, restored parts of the thread were empty, hollow, stuffed with straw,

dead.

And that's when I knew something was really wrong. Never in my millions of years of existence have I felt anything this suffocatingly wrong.

And it was

all

my

fault.

I would've stood there for eons, gawking and sympathizing for myself, if it hadn't been for the flaming chariot that came hurtling out of the sky. Who knows what the humans saw, but I know I saw "trouble" in all capitals written in neon colors.

"Oh Angel ... How many times do I have to remind you that you cannot escape me for long?"

That voice was chillingly familiar. I've encountered this guy multiple times before.

The owner of that clipped, coaxing, and annoyingly masculine voice belonged to none other than the Sun God himself.

And that's how I knew I was in some seriously deep T-R-O-U-B-L-E in neon colors.