These Eternal Chains

I can’t really remember at what point in the whole creation process everything fell apart. What I can remember, though, are the stars as I fell from heaven. It was surprisingly calming, falling through all of that emptiness, surrounded by glittering diamonds.

“Don’t look at them,” One of the other demons had told me as we fell.

“Why?” I’d asked.

“That’s the angels, watching us fall.”

I’m not sure if that was true, but I kept my eyes shut afterwards.

And so there I was, floating downward from heaven, and here I remain. I’m not sure how long it’s been, since we were casted out and sent to wherever we’re heading. Hell of a lot longer than I’d thought it’d take, that’s for sure.

I wish I would’ve just stayed neutral. I was a lesser angel, nothing special. No one paid me any mind. I could’ve just turned a blind eye and went on my merry way, whistling as I strolled down the cobbled, golden streets of heaven.

But the war grew worse and worse, and I had to decide, had to pick a side. Obviously, I’d picked the wrong one.

I remember being told stories as a young angel. They were always very clear; there’s a good side, and there’s a bad side. The bad guys are bad and the good are good. There was no grey area in those stories. You knew which side was righteous and which was wicked from the get go. But that’s not how real life works.

Lucifer had some good points. God did too. Neither were more wrong than the other, or more right. Sometimes, people just fight for no point at all. That’s what happened, I think. The entire universe was a few days old and needed a good conflict to drive the story forward.

And so, I joined Lucifer. There wasn’t any specific reason why I joined him, but I thought I might as well try to get my name in the history books, and there’s a romance inherent in rebellion. My job was to polish the armor; again, I wasn’t renowned for anything, least of all being a warrior.

The rebellion had seemed like it was going well, but one side had to lose, and so we lost. We were casted out of heaven, and have been falling ever sense. Really, I don’t blame God for doing that. What else was He going to do with us? He couldn’t just pardon us and let us go.

Anyway, suddenly we weren’t angels anymore; we were demons. I wonder why our name changed. Nothing else did. I look the same now as I did then. I guess there had to be some difference between the winners and the losers, and “demon” does have a better ring to it than loser.

I wonder sometimes how long I’ve been falling. Its been centuries since I’ve opened my eyes. Have the others already landed? Did I miss wherever we were heading? I could look, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen the dark. Besides, it wouldn’t make a difference. Regardless if I’m alone or not, I know I’m still falling.

Sometimes I wonder if God would take me back. I wasn’t really involved in the rebellion. I’d joined in the final weeks, and never even saw a battle. I never killed anyone, so why not? Could I pray to Him, the Creator, and ask for His forgiveness?

“God, I’m sorry.”

There, I said it. It’s not the first time I’ve tried. I used to beg every day, pleading to be brought back. I never got a response, and I didn’t want to keep pestering Him. I’m sure He has more important things to worry about.

To this day I’ve heard nothing. That’s okay, I get it. I picked the wrong side, even if I didn’t really participate. But I’m not evil. Some of Lucifer’s boys were, but most of us were just normal angels, forced to pick a side in a conflict that we didn’t really understand. God had some bad eggs on His side too, you know.

I was never a big fan of Michael. I remember he and Lucifer were close. They were the rock stars of heaven, after all. I always thought he was an ass, if I’m being blunt. He walked around the pearly gates with a pompous look on his face, like he owned the place.

I was surprised that he wasn’t the one to rebel. He always acted like everyone owed him something, just for gracing us with his presence. Lucifer, on the other hand, always seemed quieter, grateful for what he had.

To this day, I don’t know what caused the war. I remember seeing Lucifer headed toward God’s throne, a smile on his face, as always. But when he came back, something had changed. He was angry. I swear I’d never seen Lucifer angry.

He flew up to a few angels, said something quietly to them, and then the war started. In a minute, everything had changed.

I’ve had a lot of time to think it over, and I truly believe it was all planned. It’s said that God knows everything that is and will be. That’s what we’re told, anyway. So, if God truly knows all, how could He not have predicted Lucifer would rebel? He could’ve struck him down in an instant, and then there wouldn’t have been a war, and I’d still be up there with my brothers and sisters.

No, it just doesn’t add up. Like I mentioned before, I heard many stories when I was younger, and one unfortunate theme ran through all of them: there has to be conflict. Without it, the plot doesn’t move forward. We don’t get to the happy ending. The hero can’t save the day if there’s nothing to save it from.

Heaven was at peace, and peace doesn’t make for a very interesting tale.

And so, and again, this is just my theory, I believe God called Lucifer and told him, “Hey, I’m going to need you to rebel.” Probably not in that exact phrasing, but something like that.

It’s almost peaceful, if I’m being honest, to know there was some point to it all. We weren’t told anything, us lesser angels. They told us to pick a side. When we asked why, they looked at us curiously, Lucifer and Michael, and said, “Because we’re at war,” as if it were the simplest thing.

I struggled for so long, in the early days of the Fall, trying to figure out what caused the war. Why did it have to happen, and why did we have to lose? And then I realized; it happened because it had to. It was all just a story, and every great tale has a knight and a dragon.

I had thought to myself, “Why would God betray us? Doesn’t He love us?” I remember hating the humans, and how they received special treatment.

But you have to look at it all through the lens of a novelist, or an artist, or any creative thinker. It was just another puzzle piece that needed to be filled. Without it, the puzzle would be incomplete, and we can’t have that.

And so I accepted my fate, and took on the badge of demon. This is who I am now, because this is what the story demanded.

I just wish I could stop falling.

I completely understand why I was casted out. I know that it had to happen. Even if I’m not evil, or at least no more evil than any other run of the mill angel, I get that someone had to be the loser, the bad guy. The dragon had to be slayed, I get it. But why am I still falling?

I can’t remember what anything looks like, except, of course, the darkness itself. I just want to get to wherever I’m going. I don’t care where I’m heading. Earth? Fine, I’ll make it work. Hell? Okay, I accept that. Just get it over with.

Unless, of course, this is our punishment. What if this fall is Hell? Am I to continue on like this forever, until the end of time? Must I never reach my destination? It doesn’t matter where I’m going, it couldn’t be much worse than this.

Maybe I should just open my eyes. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I could see where I’m at. I could look for my comrades, my fellow demons. I could ask them if they’d seen anything, any clue as to where we were heading, and how much longer it would be.

But then I’d have to face Him. I don’t believe that the stars are the victorious angels, staring down at us in eternal judgment as I was told so long ago. That was just a fable, the rambling of a poetic demon who was trying to come to terms with what had happened.

I was there when the stars were created. I know what they’re made of, what they consist of. Those aren’t the eyes of angels, at least no angel I’ve ever met. How do I know for sure? Because I am an angel. I know what I’m made of, what I consist of. Our eyes? They’re just eyes, nothing special about them, certainly not bright enough to light up the night sky.

But I know whose eyes they could be. I know someone who’s powerful enough for such fantasies to be plausible, and He certainly isn’t an angel. I’ve never seen Him, not once. Angels like me, we weren’t chosen; we were just created. To exist, and that’s all. No real purpose.

So how could I say that those stars, that I’d seen so long ago, couldn’t belong to Him? There were millions of them, how could I know that two of them weren’t looking down at me, curiously studying the angel He’d created but could not name.

That’s why I can’t open my eyes. If I met His gaze, what would I do? What would I say?

I feel cheated. I could say that, but what difference would that make? Thousands of angels were casted out that day, many of them much more powerful than me, and I’m sure most of us felt cheated, only pawns in this galactic game. My suffering is no different than theirs, so I can’t say that.

Why. That’s what I could ask Him. Why? What purpose did it all serve? How did the plot move forward? My fall from grace, His grace, why did it need to take place? I’m nothing special. I’m not malicious in anyway. I was just an angel, His creation, pulled between two opposing forces. Lucifer, I can understand why he fell. He’s the antagonist in this story. But me? I’m merely a footnote, a number, a statistic. One less fallen wouldn’t have made any difference. So, I could ask him that.

I won’t beg for forgiveness because I know there’s none to give. I won’t curse him for sending me away because, in the long run, it’s my fault for choosing the losing side. I’ll simply ask Him why it had to be me that fell in His story.

Okay, I’ve decided. It’s time. I’ve been shrouded in darkness long enough, and it’s time to search for some answers. I’ll open my eyes, and search for His.

Wait; something’s different. I’m not falling anymore! I don’t feel the wind against my cheek, the gravitational pull yanking me from the heavens. In fact, I don’t feel anything.

Odd. I’ve opened my eyes, and yet all I see is darkness. My fellow demons are nowhere to be seen. My limbs, I can’t move them. My breath, it’s ceased. Have I arrived at my destination? If so, where is it? Where am I?

I think I’m beginning to understand. I’ve faded. This story, it’s moved on without me. Lucifer and God will battle it out, each with their mighty army of angelic beings, but my part in this tale has ended. Where does an angel go when it’s no longer needed? Where does a demon go?

I lost consciousness. I’m not sure for how long. Was I asleep? Although it only feels like moments ago, I know that time has passed. I feel…older. Not physically, because we don’t age, but emotionally. Not like someone who’s aged too much, but rather who’s experienced too much.

I see something now; a light in the distance. I’m heading toward it. It’s growing brighter and brighter as I move at unfathomable speeds. What is it? I can’t tell. It’s blinding, I can barely see. I hear a trumpet, the music vibrating my very soul.

I’m on my knees now, in front of the light. I can’t look up without going blind. I want to close my eyes, but I can’t, I won’t. Not again.

I remember now. I know what’s going on. This is Judgement day. The story’s at an end, and I’ve been called in front of Him. I can feel Him staring down at me, wondering who I am. Doesn’t He recognize His creation? I don’t blame Him. I know what His hands have made. I know what He’s breathed life into.

I hear a whisper. Although I can’t understand what was said, my heart knows. I’ve been judged unworthy.

I want to beg, plead for mercy. I didn’t mean to betray Him, I didn’t know. It’s not my fault. But I know it wouldn’t change anything. I made that choice, long ago. I have to tell Him something before I go. I have to get one point across.

I look up at the light, my eyes watering from the pain.

“I’m not evil,” I say, shaking my head as the tears roll down my cheeks.

The whispers begin to grow louder, coming closer and closer, surrounding me, echoing within my soul. At first I couldn’t understand, but the whispers begin to bind together, forming into one coherent sentence:

“I know.”

I begin to fall, just as I did before. Millions of stars surround me as I descend away from His majesty, twinkling far in the distance. These eternal chains dig into my wrists as they pull me down. I should be sad, I know, but I’m not. Why? Because I know where I’m going.

And this time, I won’t close my eyes.