A crack of light woke Michael.

"Mother?" the young angel mumbled.

Michael was a child again, approximately six or seven in mortal years, long before he ever achieved the title of archangel. He awoke inside his childhood bedroom, dressed in is red and blue striped pajamas. The crack of light blinded the boy version of the destined archangel that he couldn't see what was happening. All he knew was that the light came from his bedroom door. The light faded immediately and the young Michael saw who entered his old bedroom.

It was his mother. She was considered the most beautiful woman in the universe, even by her husband God himself. His mother was always dressed in a plain long white gown and wore a veil over her even longer florescent hair, which always changed into a different colored hue pending on her mood. Her skin was oddly transluscent—light could always pass through her body—yet it had a warm glow around her. Her tranquil eyes, a featured that Mike remembered most fondly of, held a whole galaxy inside them.

"I'm sorry, my child," his mother softly spoke. Her voice was like loud whisper. "Did I wake you?"

"W-what's going on?" the boy Michael asked again while he rubbed his tired eyes.

"It's nothing," his mother reassured with her ever most loving smile. "I was just checking up on each of you." She seated at Mike's bedside and tucked her eldest son in. Mike saw her deep, glistening eyes reflected sadness, just as her hair morphed into the color of the ocean's darkest blue.

"Mother?" he asked shyly. "Is something wrong with Lucifer?"

His mother paused for a second. "No, my child. Nothing is wrong." she was lying of course. Mike didn't know it then but he felt that she was sad and afraid about something.

"But I heard you and Father arguing-."

"It's nothing you need to worry. Come morning and everything will be alright." she lied again. Michael's mother started stroking her fingers through her child's head. "Michael, can you promise me something. Promise me that you'll look after your siblings, especially your baby brother. Promise me you'll keep him safe. Promise me."

"I promise, Mother." Mike tried his best to be brave for her. "I promise."

"I love you, Michael." there was a weak tremble in her voice. "I love you and your siblings. So, so very much."

"I love you too, Mother." Mike leaned back up to his mother's side. He wrapped his small arms around her to give the largest hug he could. His mother smiled and returned with a hug of her own, knowing full well this would be the last time she would do so. She then placed him back on his pillow and tucked him in again. Her lips blessed his forehead with the sweetest kiss.

Inside the bedroom came a soothing hum. Mike's mother sang to him the song which always helped put her dearest children to sleep.

Hush my darling

Don't make a peep

I'm right here

While you sleep

Sleep in safe comfort

As I sing this lullaby.

Know that my love

For you will never die

After her gentle song was finished, the boy Mike drozed back to sleep. At last sound asleep so that he could not witness the tears drip from his mother's cheeks when she closed them.

An adult Michael stood nearby and watched. He remembered that night. It was the last time he ever spoke to his mother before her untimely passing. Everyone found her next to the crib of her last child Lucifer. It was still a mystery of how she died that no one could answer, not even his own Father. From then on everything changed. The children, their Father, and Heaven itself all changed.

Mike continued to watch his mother, completely shocked of what he was looking at. He wanted to say something to her, but no words came out. He wasn't sure if she was real or not. The last he could recall was saving his nieces before fading into black. He looked around the new environment and noticed they were now alone. The boy version of himself vanished before his eyes. His room was gone too. All that remained was his mother, who sat quietly on his bed and stroked the empty spot where her son was. White mist faded in and surrounded the area.

Was this Oblivion, Mike wondered. Was this where the souls of angels and demons, and the souls of other beings, go for their final resting place?

"Mother?" Mike whispered. His mother did not answer him at first. But he wasn't a ghost to her. She turned her head and opened her eyes. Those very elegant eyes were filled with sadness like before.

Mike slowly walked to his old bed where his mother sat. He tried to say strong, but the spiritual image of his deceased mother was too much. Her saddened glare made him weep. Tears gushed out of his eyes as he broke down. He dropped to his knees and rested on his mother's lap.

He could touch her as she touched him with her hands through his head, like what she used to do for him as a child. It felt like her. It smelled like her. Her natural scent of a fresh garden in blossem. Her tranquil, soothing voice sounded like her. Mike figured it must be her. But how? Why? He could not bring himself to get answers. He wept loudly and wrapped his arms around her. It had been too long since he did that. She was still silent as the ghost she was. Still feeling through her son's thick hair.

"I... I'm sorry, Mother," Mike kept weeping. "I let Lucifer be corrupted to our adversaries. I hurt him. I couldn't... I couldn't protect him. I failed him. I failed you."

His mother still remained silent. Her gentle hands lifted his head for Michael to get a good look into her eyes. He saw that she was no longer sad, nor was she angry at him as he feared. She was smiling that ever heartwarming smile she had. Happy that she can be with him again.

"No, my son." her tender whisper echoed the realm of Oblivion. "You haven't failed me. You never failed me. You still are keeping your promise. You're still watching over him. Him and his family. Our family."

His mother wiped away the last of her son's tears and kissed his forehead, like how she did when he was younger. The archangel felt as though the sun shined through the clouds, providing him the warmth and comfort by his mother.

Suddenly there was a whisper from the distance. "Michael?" it was another woman's voice. Younger and with an Arabic accent. "Michael?" the voice whispered again.

The Archangel of Justice immediately recognized who called his name. "Malaika?"

"Go to her, my son. Follow her voice home."

Mike then felt himself being pulled out of his mother's arms. He tried to resist but he was powerless as he was dragged away towards a new light. His mother had her arms out to him but she was not reaching for him. She was pushing him away. She was pushing him home. The last thing Mike saw before being consumed by light was his mother still smiling for him. That same ever most, loving smile she will always be remembered evermore.

Mike's eyes finally opened slowly. He felt the air touch his lungs as he took in a deep gasp. The lights above blinded his vision, but he could tell that he was somewhere else. Not Oblivion but definitely Heaven. A hospital most likely. When his sight regained he met someone waiting for him.

It wasn't his girlfriend Malaika. Instead it was two girls, Rosemary and Regan, who were overjoyed upon his return home.

#sinsofthefather #fiction #fantasy #comedy #horror #angels #heaven

She felt golden in that hour, but in that hour golden was not what she was . A deep bluish-black like the deepest depths of the ocean overtook her. Darkness. All because of that mask.

Two days earlier, Layla received an invitation. It was cream colored card stock trimmed with glinting flakes that reflected the sunlight. The black ribbon tied through two holes at the top was already tugged at by Layla’s dancing fingers. She bit her lip and stared at the intricacies of hand drawn masks, champagne flutes, and dancing couples on the front of the invitation.

You have been cordially invited to Reynard Charles Upton the Third’s twenty-fifth birthday celebration. It will begin promptly at 8pm and take place at the Salazar Palais. Formal attire and masks preferred. Please present this invitation upon entrance.

Layla had known Reynard since early prep school. Every year they had classes together and every year the two became closer. Layla confided in Reynard her soul, the secrets that made her heart breath and the nuisances that made her mind tick like a clock. She thought he had done the same, but she had not truly seen into his depths until six months ago.

I️t was six months ago that Layla had let Jack Daniels flow through her blood and take over her body. I️t was Jack Daniels she let hear her worries and her defeats. This time, Jack heard about her break-up-gone-wrong. And Reynard was there to witness and contribute to the unfolding events.

From across the dance floor Reynard could see Layla stumbling, her feet going against her will. He offered to talk the belligerent girl home, but at a price that Layla could not remember.

The next day Layla woke up aching and blood ridden in her secret garden. Her hair felt matted and smelled like a wet mutt. She thought back to last night and could only remember in bursts. Bursts of laughter. Bursts of dancing. Bursts of falling asleep in Reynard’s bed. Bursts of Reynard thrusting inside her as she pushed and screamed. Bursts of black. And then nothing. Layla choked back tears and walked home slowly, heart heavy from the night before.

Layla inhaled deep as she reflected on the incident from six months ago. It was crisp and biting. She stared at the invitation for a second more, then folded it up into a little square and placed it gently in her coat pocket.

Into an antique shop she meandered. I️t smelled of used books and at the right angle, the light revealed the dust floating like little sneeze causing snowflakes. She loved antique shops. The truly unique and antiquated items seemed to call to her. This time she had not gone far into the store. She stared at the trinkets beneath the glass counter where the cash register lay. A black, glittering mask lay hidden among the other knickknacks.

“Is that a real masquerade mask?” She inquired.

The wrinkly toothless man replied with a smile, “ Sure as hell is, lil’ miss. Shoot, actually just got this mask recently from some eetalee woman. Said she wanted it off her hands. Dunno why. It’s a real purdy mask.”

She smiled at the old man’s response. The owners of this store had a personality as unique as the junk in the store, “I’ll take it!”

“Sure thing, hun,” the wrinkly man let his just as wrinkly fingers softly package the mask and ring up Layla.

Her dress matched her mask. Sleek and sexy. Glittery like the night sky and undeniably a head-turner. She felt different tonight. She felt like a movie star or a queen. A perpetual amount of confidence transcended her being and she knew, she felt in her beating heart, that she needed to be at Reynard’s birthday celebration.

She floated into the party, laughters like bubbles, lighting like a rainbow, and melodic music thumping into her body. She was the sun and all gazes orbited around her, planets worshipping her every move. She felt god-like and wondered if Aphrodite ever felt this much love from her followers.

Reynard’s forest green eyes met her icy blues. And icy they were. Normally her eyes were a pale, grayish blue. Reynard stared, speechless for some time before speaking.

“I, uh, I’m glad you came,” he cleared his throat, “you look stunning by the way.”

Layla let a playful smirk sneak across her face, something she never let herself do, “I know. How have you been? Mischievous per the norm, oh wait, or are you still raping women, best friends hmmm?”

A panic look struck Reynard’s face quicker than lightning, “Shhh. Ok ok. I’m sorry. We were both drunk and I was stupid. So stupid. I should of... I don’t know, made up for it sooner. I really am sorry Layla, you have no idea how much I mean it. I do miss you.” His hand rubbed the back of his auburn hair and he stirred his drink as if it was missing something.

Layla looked him up and down. She could see right through him. Childlike and groveling because he never knew how to grow up. She felt golden and wouldn’t let Reynard stop that feeling. So she smiled sweetly and gently pressed her lips to his. They had the same warm feeling she remembered and she could taste the champagne that lingered in his breath, “I forgive you Rey.” She turned and ambled off before she could see Reynard cock his head and whisper some essence about never being called “Rey” by her before.

In that short hour she felt golden, as if she glowed. But truly, she was a deep bluish-black like the deepest depths of the ocean. As she slept sound that night, dreaming of happiness and future accomplishments, Reynard fell dead on the floor at midnight, bleeding from the mouth.

I twisted, turned, hopped, and leaped. Adrenaline rushed through my body, sparks of energy lighting up underneath my feet as I tapped across the floor. He held my hand, the lifeline in the chaos, as we danced. No, more than danced. We were fire.

He twirled me around, around, around, then spontaneously dipped me. I laughed, and threw my head back, but then I saw him standing on the wings.

Heartbroken.

Wishing.

Vulnerable.

Dale swung me up and started prancing again. I went through the motions, but the fire was gone.

I tried to smile. I tried to laugh, tried to mask my pain. He was the one who left.

He was hostile.

Hardening.

Slowly shrinking from my touch.

But somehow I can’t get the picture from my head of us dancing down the grocery aisle. Hr would spin me, dip me until I was dizzy with laughter and trying to keep the box of oatmeal aloft above my head. Or was it pancake mix?

The scene is already fading from my memory.

I turn our dancing around, look over my shoulder for Jake. Our eyes lock for a moment, and then he turns and walks away, slowly, and I am filled with agonizing pain.