My name is of no importance. You are hiring a murderer. Not a friend. Our contact outside of this job should be minimal, to ensure neither of us gets caught. I would enquire after more details of this particular heist, but I can understand if these are to be kept a secret until an applicant has been successful. I have successfully done with 613 victims over the 32 months I've been working in this industry. Though I have only been working for a little over 1 year, I receive an average of $8921 per heist but would like to request this to be raised for this particular job, as your advert appears to suggest a more long-term service. I am not your average killer, as my age will surely surprise you once I reveal it. You may find yourself thinking that I am too inexperienced, but believe you me, I can kill better than the rest of them. After all, they've never found the bodies of those who didn't hire me when I applied to them.

They said Lucifer was a male angel. They were wrong.

Lucifer wasn't male - she was female. Lucifer was in God's innermost circle of archangels. She was the best of the best - the lightbearer. So enhanced were her thoughts and beliefs, that she was essentially silently running Heaven. God's name may have been pasted on everything, but she knew what was going on all the time.

Heaven was a place of free will and free thought, and Lucifer was the first to enjoy her freedom. She was always out and about, making friends with other angels - no matter their station - and learning more about them. She loved being social and adding to her list of friends.

Other angels loved Lucifer. She was beautiful and smart, and always had time to listen and attend to another angel - no matter the reason. She listened to them and gave advice freely. 

Over time, more and more angels turned to Lucifer when they needed something, rather than turning to God - as they had previously done for many years. Of course, there was nothing wrong with this, as Lucifer was only too happy to help, and God was usually otherwise engaged anyway.

Eventually, God realised that no angel had come to Him on any matter for a very long time. This was quite unusual, as angels - though they were inherently good - were not entirely perfect, and did sometimes require guidance. 

Somewhat alarmed, God did what He thought would help and called for Lucifer. She immediately rushed to him, a smile on her face, and asked, "Yes, God?"

"Lucifer, I haven't had any angels come to me to request guidance on any issues lately. Can you please check to make sure that they are alright?" He turned, dismissing her, but Lucifer began to explain.

"Actually, my lord," she began, "I have been helping the angels. They have been asking me for guidance recently, as my lord is usually busy and they wish not to disturb you." She smiled, thinking that the reasoning was flawless.

"What?" God was enraged. "Lucifer, you are not a perfect angel. Such an angel does not exist. Have you even given thought to what might have happened had you given the wrong advice?"

Lucifer was bewildered - she did not expect God to react thus. "Oh. Well, I apologise, my lord. I shall refer them to You, shall any angel require guidance henceforth." She bowed at the waist slightly, indicating her respect.

"I did not dismiss you." God spoke, his tone calmer than before. Lucifer abruptly straightened and looked at God. "It's alright, Lucifer - you made a mistake. Such is an angel's life. I know that you are the sole angel closer to perfection, but do not let it go to your head. You can still make mistakes. You are not quite that much more perfect than others." He analysed the angel stood before him, before turning away, dismissing her.

Lucifer was frustrated as she left. What she had been doing was causing no harm to anything or anyone at all! She huffed, but pasted a bright smile on her face as she passed Azriel, another high archangel, who was going in to visit God. "Hello, Azriel!" She smiled.

Azriel only huffed. "Lucifer." He flew quickly forwards, leaving Lucifer behind.

Astonished by his rudeness, Lucifer continued on. An angel suddenly flew up to her and asked her for guidance on an issue that had been deemed relatively important. "I apologise, Dina, but I have been instructed by God to pass along all queries on to him." She apologised to the angel of learning. Dina, thankfully, was full of graditude for passing along the instruction and started to make her way to see God.

Not too long later, Lucifer received a summons to see God. Curious, she made her way to attend her summons.

"Lucifer," God's gentle voice seemed slightly harsher than usual, "you are being stripped of your title and your position, and shall henceforth be a regular angel with no set purpose."

"May I ask for the reasons behind this?" She asked, stunned and confused.

"You have abused your position by performing acts only to be completed by those of a higher station. You have defied my direct orders to stop, and have continued to do so without a thought."

"Lord, that is untrue. With Dina, angel of learning, as my witness, many other angels included, I have referred them all to you for guidance. Ever since You had given me those direct orders."

"Azriel has been keeping an eye on you, and has said differently. As you will be talking in your own interest, I have reason to hold his word with more reliability than yours. Your witnesses also are redundant if I cannot trust your word."

Hanging her head, Lucifer accepted her unfair punishment. She vowed to never leave her home again, as she had no reason to. With no purpose, she was not required to do anything.

Many years later, she received another summons. She attended the meeting, her head down and her posture repentant. "Lucifer." God's voice turned cold and harsh. "You are being charged with failure to uphold angel standards. I am casting you from Heaven, and you shall be tasked with overseeing Hell, from its deepest and most terrible circle."

Lucifer said nothing, just closed her eyes as she felt her wings being ripped from her back. They had grown weak and frail with disuse, and ripped off her body easily.

The next thing she knew, she was frozen up to her waist, with an overwhelming hunger. She screamed in agony at her loss. She knew where she was: the final pit of Hell, Treachery.

Midnight, and the whispers begin.

I sigh, twirling my pen. The spirits'll want out again. Today, leaving alone All Hallow's Eve, is the one day of the year that the spirits get restless. 

On All Hallow's Eve (what the mortals foolishly refer to as Hallow'een), it's allowed - advised even - for the spirits to rise into the mortal world. After all, that's why they get antsy. All Hallow's Eve is the one night where the veil between the worlds thins and they can enter the mortal world and scare the pesky creatures. That's the one night that they can feed off of the living.

But today is not All Hallow's Eve. Today is... Christmas. A foolish holiday for the foolish mortals. Christmas is about love and presents and the gift of life... or something like that. Being a psychopomp - you may know me by my Greek personality, Charon - means that I'm not exactly up to date with all the new mortal celebrations. 

Regardless of what day it is, I must keep the spirits here. If they venture to the mortal realm, they will regain humanity but in a twisted, deformed way - much like the current mortal obession with a zombie apocalypse. Well, I can't let a zombie apocalypse occur.

Using my 'god voice', I shout, "Calm down!" ... Well, something that can be translated to mean that. Truly, it is those words said in all existing languages all at the same time. The spirits hear the language they know. It means that everyone knows what I'm saying at the same time. "Nobody is going to the mortal realm." Some spirits groan. "This is the sacred holiday they call Christmas. Just because the same energy surge is present now than there is on All Hallow's Eve, does not mean that that day has come!" I say, firmly.

Some newer spirits start crying.

Oh, lord, not again. I roll my eyes, settling down as order is restored. Bored, I begin twirling my pen again.

Okay, here's the deal, Saint Nick: I know I'm supposed to be real good and ask for something like world peace, or homes for everyone, or for the end of poverty, but...

I'd like my grandma back.

See, she died not so long ago, and I want her back. In case you need reminding, her name is Lesley Nottinghill. She's in Heaven, I know she is. Can you get her back? I mean, you have to know God to be able to get around the world and visit every house in one night, so can't you ask Him to help?

The way God took her was a bit unfair, and I kinda want more time with her.

If not, I'll settle for more socks. Just like last year.

But I'd really like her back.

Thanks,

Annabelle Nottinghill

They say where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.

I agree - but only in some instances.

Blissful ignorance would have kept me from a lot of hurt. A lot of pain.

Blissful ignorance of the harsh reality of stereotypes and discrimination would have kept me from a lot of hurt and pain. Discrimination against being a woman, being a person of colour, being a lot of things.

Ignorance is bliss as a child. A child's hardest decision is the colour pencil they will use today, or which flavour juice they want. Children also have no worries. They believe in Saint Nicholas and the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman and fairy godmothers. Their fears extend to spiders, monsters hiding under their beds, and supernatural creatures. Children also have no actual concept of death. They believe things pass away when they get old, but don't see a future in which they themselves age. They live every moment in the present.

In the real world, as a wiser adult, my mind disputes all I have laid before us.

The hardest decision is no longer quite so easy, nor is it so easily settled. As more knowledgeable adults, we know that Saint Nick, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, and fairy godmothers are the fabrications of storytellers. We know that those characters were created to instill a - hopefully - long-lasting sense of imagination in young people (that will inevitably get more or less beaten out of them during their time in the educational system). We know that, rationally, we should not fear spiders, nor should we worry about fictional things such as monsters or the supernatural. Once we have realised how short human life is, and have realised that our deaths are reaching us at every accelerating rates, some things seem less important than others, as we live for that short future that we may or may not have.

However, I also disagree - again, for some instances only.

I could have been ignorant to so many different facts about the English language, that being wiser has made me more knowledgeable (and more likely to win English Language points on any game show I may ever be invited to be on). I now know that the full idiom is 'blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb' and 'carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero' (meaning: seize the day, trusting as little as possible in the future). This means I can use those phrases in their intended way. It may have been bliss to stay ignorant of these and to use them as they have been, but it is not foolish to know of them - in fact, I prefer it.

I could also be ignorant of my impending mortality. This may mean that I wouldn't live every moment as if it may be my last. Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero and all that. Is it wiser to not have known and to live in the present, or live every moment like it's your last and to live for our future that is ever-becoming shorter?

So ignorance may be bliss, but ignorance is also a poison. Losing ignorance may have been hard, but it also must have been necessary.

Okay, I did not think I would live to see this day!

*throat clear*

Okay, I should probably explain. Today, the zombie apocalypse started. 

I should start from the beginning.

Today was a normal day... well, for me. I tripped down the stairs (didn't break anything this time, so... that was good), nearly missed my bus, and managed to make a whole shelf of books fall.

I had skipped lunch, so I was quite hungry, and ended up stealing some of T's trail mix. Not that she'd mind - we share everything else. She came in a bit later, while I was eating said trail mix, and only shook her head at me.

"Em, how many times have I told you not to take my trail mix?" She asked, smiling.

"T," I mocked, "how many times have you actually meant it?"

She grinned. "None."

I grinned back at her. Life was good.

We stayed in the bookstore, T was at the till and I was restocking shelves. After I put out the twentieth crappy YA romance book, I was sick of the silence the store had fallen into. This led me to the in-store radio. I turned the channel to a good music station, and nodded along to one of my favourites of the current Top 40. 

Suddenly, the radio station crackled, as if losing signal. Which was impossible - the store was close to a radio pylon. It switched back on to the radio show host sounding very very panicked.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a news channel has just gotten through to all radio stations in the area." A noise was heard in the background, before he screamed. "THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE HAS BEGUN!"

T and I stared at each other before panicking ourselves. We eventually calmed down, and I started making a plan, thanking myself that I had Doomsday Bags spread out around the town (what? I've been ready for the end of the world for a while now - you know that).

Halfway through my plan, T laid a hand on my shoulder. "Em. I don't want to go on."

"What?"

"I wouldn't be able to survive, and I'd only slow you down. Please. Go on without me."

"What... what will you do?"

"Kill me before you go. I don't want to be zombie food."

Staring at her, making sure she knew what she was deciding, I nodded. Going through my bag, I pulled out my knife.

I stared at it, and then at T, and then back again. "Just do it." She said, exposing her neck to me. 

I put the knife down, before walking behind her. I compressed her two carotid arteries for about five minutes. By the end of one minute, she had passed out. After five, I checked her pulse - she was dead.

I sat in the middle of our store, crying, mourning and grieving for T. Finally, I dried my eyes. T would not want me to end up dead because I was grieving her which led to my not noticing a zombie and then getting eaten.

Still sniffling, I ran out to the stockroom, climbed up to the highest shelf (that nobody ever used) and pulled out a rucksack. This was my first Doomsday Bag. I updated them regularly, so that the items in it wouldn't expire (yeah, I thought of food and medicine and stuff).

After thoroughly checking it for any damages, I ran out, a knife in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. I soon came across a guy distributing guns. Barely anyone was taking any, not seeing the sense in arming themselves and instead running around like headless chicken. I, however, put my knife in my bag, and quickly took a small handgun (which came with its own cute little leather holster which could hang on my belt). The guy gave me dozens and dozens of magazines for it before we parted ways. The gun remained in its holster (mostly because I was afraid of breaking it before I could use it).

All too soon, it was nightfall. I broke into a convenience store, and found three other people here. Two boys, one girl. We have banded together to find a safe space for ourselves. One boy has another firearm, the other boy carries a machete, and the girl continuously clutches at her baseball bat, terrified. We have decided to leave tomorrow. The others have taken as much food and drinks from the store as possible, so I quickly did the same. 

And now, I have to sleep. Let's hope it's not for the last time.

Signing off,

Emma C.