Date: Tue, 24 May 2005 19:02:19 +0000
From: Jason Parker <archangelmatthew72@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Angel: Chapter 24

	Author's Note: All right, sorry this chapter took so sooo sooooo very long.
It just... did. I wrote it about 9 different times, and I still wasn't
really happy with it until I just left the first half alone and got onto the
second half. I was feeling quite emotional at the time of the second half,
so if it seems very emotional and fast-paced, that's why. Hope you
enjoy.

	Disclaimer: This story is, as you aught to have noticed by now,
about gay guys. However, in addition to that warning, this chapter bears
it's own warning that in the following pages, you will be forced to deal
with some rather... difficult subject material. If you are very religious
and easily offended by different religious views or ideas, you may find this
chapter unsettling or aggravating. That said however, religious intolerance
is just as bad as racism or homophobia, so grow the fuck up and stop being
so pig headed. Um... and if you're not? uh... sorry about all that then.
lol.


***

'Though I love to rule in Hell...'


	Nodiesha stood up from the
heap of pillows and picked up a fairly transparent gown, which she slipped
on.
	"Who are you? And where am I?" Jason demanded, still clutching the
pillow to his loins. "And where are my clothes?!"
	She waved her hand
absently and then boredly informed him, "I'm Nodiesha, this is Hell, and I
had to cut them off you so I could heal your wounds."
	"I liked that shirt,"
Jason pouted quietly. Then he frowned. "Take me to whoever rules this place,
I DEMAND to be sent home. Now!"
	"Spoilt much, are we?" Nodiesha curled her
lip.
	"What?" Jason was stunned. The last time he'd been in Hell, he'd ended
up being treated like a King. "No I'm not!" he said hurriedly. "Well, maybe
a bit but-- wait! What? No!"
	She stared at him in stony silence.
"Yeeeaaaah... well, anyway, you're having dinner with the Lord of the Realm
in a few hours, so you can just wait 'till then."
	Jason's mouth worked
silently before he managed, "I'm NAKED!"
	"Yeah, bear with me on that." She
whistled shrilly and eight piles of clothes came racing through the doorway.
They deposited themselves on the floor, revealing the small red imps that
had been carrying each. Two of them quickly ran to close a set of curtains
that blocked Nodiesha from sight.
	One of the imps, slightly larger than the
rest and with more of a purple tinge to his skin, hopped onto Jason's chest,
it's tiny claws prickling his skin, until it perched on his sternum.
	"Look
kid," it's voice came out, strangely deep for such a small creature. "There
are two ways we can do this. Only one involves you staying conscious.
What'll it be?"
	"What do you want me to do?" Jason didn't relish the
thought of falling unconscious again. The last time he had, he'd woken up
very naked and next to an equally naked woman.
	The imp grinned... impishly.
"Stand up."
	Jason complied, careful to keep his genitals covered with the
cushion.
	"Lose the pillow. It won't go with anything we have
here."
	Several small hands reached up and the pillow was snatched away from
him. Jason quickly covered his groin with his hands.
	Immediately the imps
scrambled to grab clothes and tug them onto his body. After just a few
moments, they stood back to admire their handiwork. Their leader looked at
the blue, Elizabethan get-up they'd forced Jason into, complete with doublet
and ruff.
	"Too dated," the leader snapped, and instantly the imps were back
on him, tearing the clothes from his body, before starting with another set
of clothes. Garments of purple velvet, lined with white fur, soon covered
his body.
	"Too pretentious!"
	Again, he was stripped, and again, they began
tugging on a fresh costume. Within moments, green of every hue bedecked
Jason, in the style of a business suite that was several sizes too
small.
	"Too garish!"
	Jason felt like screaming as once more, the imps
swarmed all over him. They began forcing him into some hideous maroon outfit
that Jason could tell already was too big. He snapped and screamed as he
suddenly grabbed two imps by their feet, flinging them through the
curtains/
	"You wretched little beasts!" he snarled. "I can bloody well
dress myself!" He caught another pair of imps with his hands and launched
them after the first pair. Another charged at his leg, its teeth bared, and
Jason lashed out with his foot. He caught it under the chin, and his little
red body tumbled backwards across the floor and out of the curtains.

	The
imp jumped to its feet and prepared to charge back in and attack Jason once
more. Nodiesha plucked the little creature off the ground, pinching the nape
of its neck. It struggled wildly for a moment, desperately trying to reach
her fingers, before it gave up and hung dejectedly.
	"He's right," she told
the imps. "You guys suck at dressing humans." She ducked suddenly as an imp
shot up over the curtain partitioner and crashed with a bump on the floor
beside her. The remaining imp and their purplish leader cut a hasty retreat
and backed out of the curtains.

	Alone, Jason pulled off the maroon
garments and deposited them in a pile. He started rummaging through the
piles of clothes, separating them in sets and matching what went with what
on the floor around him.

***

	Nodiesha finished leisurely brushing her
black hair and turned to face the curtains. The imps were stacked at the
parting of the curtain, standing one upon the other's shoulders in a tower,
their small heads pushed through to the other side of the partition. She
walked up to the tower, put her back to the curtain and sighed in annoyance.
She tapped the shoulder of the purple imp who was on the top, and he jerked
his head back through the gap.
	"What are you doing?" she asked.
	The imp
looked at her as if she were stupid. "Watching him change," he
answered.
	"Perverts."

***

	Jason eventually emerged from the curtains,
knocking over the tower of peeping imps as he did so. They sprawled on the
floor, looking up at him and his chosen outfit. It consisted of an elegantly
cut, black velvet business suit and trousers with fine red pin stripes
running up both. The shirt underneath was made of a silvery shirt he'd
found, complete with frilly lace cuffs and collar. He'd been quick to rip
these off, and it was a great improvement as far as he was concerned.
Nodiesha looked him over, checking his appearance. She grabbed a section of
silk drapery and ripped it into a long strip. She flicked it in the air and
it came down as a pitch-black silk tie.
	She moved close to him-- too close,
and started to tie it around his neck. She pressed herself in against his
body and he looked steadily at her, rather crossly.
	"I'm queer dear." He
said simply.
	She sighed. "Oh well, it was worth a try."
	Jason extracted
himself from her and stood anxiously a few feet away.
	"Gee kid, it's not
like I'd rape you or anything." She said with a wry smile. "Come on, your
ride will be here any minute." Nodiesha padded softly across the room and
slipped out of the temple doors onto the broad flight of steps outside.
Jason gave one look at the imps who were grinning evilly at him, picking
themselves off the ground, before hurrying after her.
	She accosted him on
the steps outside, grabbing his arm and dragging him down to the road that
ran along before the temple. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled
shrilly.
	"Don't get to near the front of the carriage. They tend not to be
sociable." She said quickly as a black carriage came hurtling down the road
towards them. It halted in front of the pair. The carriage appeared to be
horse-less, but something there huffed loudly and stamped its feet on the
hard cobbles. Jason skirted it and moved to open the door. It swung open
before he could reach it something slithered out of the door. It hardened
into a set of steps. He looked back at Nodiesha.
	She looked back.
	Jason
sighed inwardly and clambered into the carriage, settling down on the plush
velvet seats. Something snapped, sounding suspiciously like a large tooth
filled maw, and the carriage lurched forwards. The cobbled street shook him
violently in his seat. The carriage picked up speed and every bump seemed an
attempt to send him to the floor. He grabbed hold of the wall and leaned out
of the window to ask the cabbie to slow the pace.
	There wasn't one.
	Jason
blinked. There was no one driving the carriage! He looked ahead to see the
edge of a cliff fast approaching. He could see past it, a roiling cauldron
of fire and lava, surrounded by a vast city of metal works.
	"Nodiesha you
bitch!" He shouted and tried the door handle. It broke off in his hand. In
desperation, Jason threw his weight against the door, sending the carriage
rocking. Whatever was pulling the cart snapped loudly and snarled. The cliff
was rushing towards them. Jason hurled himself at the door again, trying to
break out, and then suddenly they were sailing over the edge. Jason screamed
and clutched the walls, bracing himself against the seat. He closed his eyes
and felt air rushing past.
	Jason eventually ran out of breath, and slowly
opened his eyes. The carriage wasn't falling at all. In fact, it was
coasting steadily onwards. He leaned out of the window and looked down. His
stomach churned from the dizzying height. Far below him, the city of metal
works and the churning lava slid past. I gauzelike substance seemed to be
directly under the carriage, carrying it through the air. He sat back in his
seat, breathing heavily. He stared straight ahead at the wall opposite to
avoid looking out over the dizzying heights.

***

	Nodiesha stood on the
steps a moment, watching the carriage roll away. It lurched suddenly as it
approached the cliff edge, and then again before it shot over the
precipice.
	"Oops, I forgot to warn him about that..." She chewed her lip
and then shrugged, shedding her human form. There was a loud rip as the
nurse's uniform shredded under her scales. "Fuck," she cursed. "I forgot
about that too..."

***

	The carriage lurched and struck hard ground and
Jason's eyes tore open. He sighed in relief to be on solid ground again.
Soon after, they came to a gentle halt and Jason looked out the window. For
miles and miles all he could see in one direction were grinding metal works
and churning refineries. The door on his other side swung open on it's own
accord and the steps curled downwards. Jason scooted out and stepped down
onto the blackened steps. They were highly polished and rose absurdly high
to a palatial structure with gold doors. He looked back momentarily at the
black carriage, but the beasts drawing it snapped loudly and they tore off
along the cobbled road. They were soon lost to view as they passed around a
bend. Jason looked uncertainly back to the doors and began mounting the
stairs, cursing under his breath the uselessness and absurdity of having so
many decorative steps.

	Jason placed his hand against the golden doors,
expecting to have to strain to budge them. They parted easily, welcoming him
into a long hall full of columns. He looked around for some sort of greeting
party, but apart from shadows, the hall contained little. He ambled through
it, his heels clicking on the polished marble floor. A second set of doors
marked the end of the hall, this time made of sturdy oak. He grabbed one of
the rungs and tugged to pull the portal open before slipping through.
	The
scene that confronted him took some moments to register. Pillows and
couches, chez lounges and carpets crammed the room full of decadent
lifestyle. Creatures of all sorts lounged around the room, eating and
drinking. Some were humanoid but wore gothic garb. Some were covered in
scales or had multiple limbs or even tentacles. The noise of the room
assaulted his ears like physical blows, causing him to wince. The door
slammed shut behind him and the assemblage turned to look in his
direction.
	The silence that followed was as sudden and deafening as the
commotion before. The creatures quickly split down the middle of the hall,
forming a long corridor of bodies. Jason stepped forwards tentatively. If he
had a dinner appointment with the lord of this place, he assumed the other
guests would make way for him. He slowed as he again reached the end of the
room and yet another door. Looking back quickly, he found the gathering had
turned to follow him with their eyes as he walked, filling in behind him and
closing his route of escape. And yet, there was no sense of threat from
them. More a mixture of reverence and curiosity. He stared at them. They
stared back. And then Jason felt the door behind him open itself inwards and
Jason turned his back on them once more. He straightened his jacket and
braced his shoulders before breathing heavily and passing through the doors
to meet, he assumed, master of all he'd seen.
	Jason strode purposefully
into the room and then stopped. It was empty. There was a door at the far
end, but other than that, it was barren.
	"Oh good," someone said. "You're
here."
	Jason looked for the source of the voice and ended up slowly tilting
his head up to look at the ceiling. He jumped back against the hard wall and
stared.
	An elegant dinner table was set with food and chairs, on the
ceiling! The man who occupied one end of the table looked down at Jason from
his seat. His thick, brown locks fell around his shoulders like a lion's
mane and he gleaming white business suit with a crimson shirt underneath. He
gestured to a door on the ceiling that faced him and his sleeves glittered
with gold cufflinks.
	"Please," he said, "join me."
	The door at the end of
the hall and the door the man faced on the ceiling swung open
simultaneously. Jason could now see an exact replica of the dinner table
laid out in the next room. He quickly skirted along the wall, crossed over
the threshold and found it was no replica. He looked at the very handsome
man who occupied the far end of the table and then looked up. The floor he
had been standing on was now the ceiling. He saw the door on his former
floor close and heard the door behind him swing shut in unison.
	He darted
to the closest chair and sat his weight firmly on the seat, gripping the
underside with his hands until his knuckles turned white. He swallowed hard
and tried to not look up-- or was it down? Jason couldn't tell which
anymore.
	The man eyed him and casually cut into the steak that sat on his
plate. "I assure you Jason," he said between mouthfuls. "You're quite safe.
I say we sit here, so we do."
	Jason stared at him. "Who ARE you?!"
	He
laughed. "Isn't that obvious?"
	A double image overlaid itself with the man.
Twin spires of twisting black horn rose from his forehead. His hair, now
tumbled down into a crimson velvet cloak, and from his back and shoulders,
six pairs of pitch-black wings sprouted, each pair sifting gently as he sat.

	The image slowly faded away and Jason gasped. "You're Lucifer!"
	He
inclined his head. "The one and only." He smiled. "Please, you must be
hungry. Heat."
	Jason's stomach growled noisily as if to press the point. He
looked down at his plate, which was suddenly filled with all assortments of
foods. "Can I eat it?" he asked.
	Lucifer wrinkled his brow. "Of course you
can!"
	"I-I mean," Jason paused. "I'm not going to end up like Persephone am
I?"
	Lucifer laughed heartily. "No, don't worry. We don't really do
that."
	Jason needed no further assurances. He quickly set about devouring
the food on his plate. However, after his third mouthful, he froze, his form
halfway to his mouth. He stared at the pale circle of scar tissue on the
back of his hand. Suddenly, he wasn't so hungry anymore. With a clatter, he
dropped the knife and fork he was holding and ran his fingers over the pale
circle. He gasped as he noticed a similar mark on the back of his other
hand. His fingers trembled as he turned them over to inspect his palms.
	He
looked up at the fallen angel, his hands held out before him, trembling.
"Why?"
	A grin split across Lucifer's blemish-less face.
	"Why'd you let him
do it?" Jason's voice was hoarse and scratchy. He could feel his temper
rising at the sight of Lucifer's grin.
	"Because," Lucifer told him, his
grin broadening further, "I needed to know if you were strong
enough."
	Jason felt his anger start to boil over. He'd almost been raped--
as a TEST?! He grabbed his knife and flung it at the fallen angel.
	Lucifer
simply flicked the blade aside with a finger and it span away to burry
itself in the wall of a shadowy corner of the room, mere inches from a
gloved hand.
	"And you were strong enough," Lucifer continued undaunted.
"You kept fighting 'till the end."
	That was too much for Jason to bear. He
jerked up from his chair, pushing it backwards as he snarled and swiped his
arm across the table. His hand caught his plate, flipping it up into the air
where it hung momentarily before tumbling upwards towards the floor. It
shattered loudly and Jason's body heaved with rage in the silence that
followed.
	"Tell me Azrael," Lucifer asked him at last. "Why is the mortal
spirit so proud?"
	Jason's body stiffened and straightened up on it's own
accord. "What?"
	Lucifer was looking at him intently now. "William Knox
asked that question." He paused and then started to recite:

	"Oh, why
should the spirit of mortal be proud?
	Like a swift-flitting meteor, a
fast-flying cloud,
	A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
	He
passeth from life to his rest in the grave...

	The hand of the king, that
the scepter hath borne;
	The brow of the priest, that the mitre hath
worn;
	The eyes of the sage, and the heart of the brave,-
	Are hidden and
lost in the depths of the grave.

	The saint who enjoyed the communion of
heaven,
	The sinner who dared to remain unforgiven,
	The wise and the
foolish, the guilty and just,
	Have quietly mingled their bones in the
dust...

	'Tis the wink of an eye; 'tis the draught of a breath
	From the
blossom of health to the paleness of death,
	From the gilded saloon to the
bier and the shroud;
	Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be
proud?"

	Jason's reply came un-bidden to his lips:

	"The surest thing
there is, is we are riders,
	And though none too successful at it
guiders,
	Through everything presented, land and tide
	And now the very air,
of what we ride.

	What is this talked-of mystery of birth,
	But being
mounted bareback on the earth?
	We can just as the infant up astride,
	His
small fist buried in the bushy hide.

	There is our wildest mount-- a
headless horse
	And though it runs unbridled off it's course
	And all our
blandishments would seem defied,
	We have ideas yet that we haven't
tried."

	The words were unfamiliar to him, but they came naturally from his
mouth.
	Lucifer looked at him quizzically. "You know," he said after a
moments contemplation, "that's the best answer I've ever heard... because
you 'have ideas yet that you haven't tried,'" he repeated.
	"It's a shitty
answer." A heavily accented Russian voice snarled from the shadowy corner.
It was cruel and harsh and very loud.
	"You must forgive Beelzebub," Lucifer
said gently to Jason. "He doesn't quite agree with me on the matter of your
nature."
	"He's a fucking boy! Hardly even a man yet!" Beelzebub spat as he
stepped out of the thick shadows.
	He made a stark contrast to the white
rabbit of Jason's dream. He was a bull of a man, with not a shred of white
to be seen on him. He wore thick, black, ornate armor with swirling patterns
the color of dried blood all across the gleaming surface. Vicious spikes
protruded from his gauntlets and greaves, and a thick black cloak hung from
his shoulder-plates, draping around his steel-shod feet. As Jason looked
though, a ghost image formed over him. The pair of wings he bore on his back
were the largest Jason had yet seen on an angel, fallen or not. They dwarfed
the man's massive body. But even they were not the most startling aspect of
his double image. A second set of arms extended out from his sides, just
below the normal pair. Each hand wielded a wicked looking blade of some
sort. Jason blinked once, and the image was gone.

***

	Matthew blossomed
down from the sky amidst a heard of wild zebra. They eyed him casually,
sensing his true nature and knowing they had no reason to panic. Matt
extended his mind across the African savannah, using every ounce of his
senses to search for any trace of Miriam or his father. He found none. He
was about to launch himself off to search another location, when he felt a
gentle tug on his mind. He relaxed and a small window of light opened up in
the air before him.
	Ashley looked through at him. "Matt, I've spoken with
Ophiel, and he says Mom would regularly go to this one place, and then
disappear, ordering him to tell no-one." She paused. "She no longer has that
authority, so I convinced him to tell me."
	"What is this place Ash?" Marr
asked eagerly.
	"It's an old monastery in the Himalayas." She quickly sent
him a mental image of the place and then looked at him in concern. "Be
careful, OK? Ophiel says Damien's visited there more than once in the
past."
	Matt nodded solemnly and the window closed as he shot up into the
air with a shower of golden sparks.

***

	"Come Jason," Lucifer said as he
rose. "Let me show you something." His body exploded in a puff of inky
blackness before he reappeared besides Jason. He took Jason by the elbow and
led him back to the door he had entered from. Lucifer pushed it open and
Jason stared as, rather than the hall bellow-- er... above, he saw millions
upon millions of tiny diamonds. He stepped out onto the thin catwalk of
obsidian that led from the door. He felt Lucifer follow closely after
him.

	Mephistopheles emerged from the corner where he'd been silently
observing.
	'Russian?' Beelzebub projected at him. 'Why the fuck did he make
me Russian?!'
	'Don't project things like that Big B,' Mephistopheles
answered with the mind-speak. 'He can hear them.'
	"Bullshit," he hissed,
but all the same, Mephistopheles noticed he did so with his
voice.
	"Besides," Mephistopheles chuckled. "You should have seen what he
made you in his dream."

	Jason stood now in what he could see was the
centre of a massive sphere. The number of tiny diamonds that whirled around
them was countless beyond all possibility. "What are they?"
	"See for
yourself." Lucifer urged him, gesturing with his hands.
	Jason turned his
head back to look at the flickering crystals. Light lanced into his eyes and
pictures suddenly swam into vision. Each way he looked, Jason could see
scenes of people enjoying a paradisial life. They flickered past in the
millions, interspersed with vistas of people laboring in various forges and
foundries. He realized suddenly that there was a person for each of the tiny
crystals.
	"W-who are they?" He asked in a whisper.
	"Who aren't they?"
Lucifer retorted. "They're the dead."
	A chill ran up Jason's spine. He knew
instantly that it was true. "You have spies in Heaven?"
	"Heaven!" Lucifer
exclaimed. "Why would you think that? I-- Oh... I see. Matt never told you,
did he?"
	Jason looked back at the crystals and images instantly began
filling his eyes again.
	"You've been to Heaven, Jason. Tell me, how many
scenes of paradise did you see? How many souls did you encounter in
Heaven?"
	Jason thought back to his brief spell in Heaven. Lucifer was
right... he'd only ever seen other angels. But then, he'd hardly seen much
of the place...
	"The dead don't go to Heaven, Jason." Lucifer said quietly.
"They never have. That was one of the reasons for my 'fall from grace'." He
rolled his eyes at the last part. He took Jason by his arm and turned him to
leave the room. "Come along my dear Azrael, let me help you to
remember."

	Beelzebub looked at Mephistopheles. "What just
happened?"
	Mephistopheles grinned. "Luce just proved you wrong." He
chuckled. "Only an ancient could have seen anything in that room. Anyone
else would have simply seen a collection of diamonds."
	Beelzebub glared at
him. "That doesn't prove he's Azrael."
	"Oh come off it Big B, he's-- quiet
now, they're coming back."
	The pair quietly slipped back to the walls to
observe what transpired.

	Jason was led to his seat at the table and fell
heavily into it. There was a puff of inky blackness, and Lucifer was sitting
in his own chair at the head of the table.
	"S-s-" Jason started, his voice
trembling a bit. "So you're telling me that everyone goes to Hell, no matter
what?"
	Lucifer waved his hand casually. "You call it hell, I call it
paradise."
	"Well you would. You are evil after all."
	"Jason I'm surprised
at you!" Lucifer exclaimed, sounding genuinely hurt. "Do I really seem that
evil to you? More evil than say.... Miriam?"
	Jason had to admit... Miriam's
evil factor seemed to drastically out-weigh Lucifer's.
	"You know what you
saw in those crystals, Jason. I can see them too. This is no realm of fiery
torture. That's not what I wanted." He paused and looked at the boy from
across the table. "Would you rather be a servant in Heaven, or a master in
Hell?"
	Jason considered this for a moment. Then replied, "A master in Hell.
That way I could make it my own Heaven."
	Lucifer smiled warmly. "You see,
you do understand." He sighed. "Sadly, this realm is only so large. We have
long since reached the natural borders, but the dead never stop coming. It
was around the 14th Century AD on your world, that the land tore apart. The
fiery caldera you passed over on your way here was created when the fabric
of this world split apart. There are several of them now. It was
Mephistopheles who came up with the idea of actually creating our own
paradise. Not just transforming the land to suite us, but to create it
ourselves. The foundries and forges we at first used to create weapons to
defend ourselves from the armies of Heaven were put to use fabricating
sections of land. Now we attach them to the perimeters of our realm and
gradually expand it to accommodate the deceased.
	"Each soul serves one day
a year in making their own world. There is no punishment here, for there is
no crime. No one wants for anything in my kingdom. For here, the Kingdom of
Heaven is here and now. Think about it Jason, you know it's true. Why do you
think the idea of a Hell of fire and Brimstone only emerged in the 14th
Century?"
	Jason thought about it quietly. He mulled it over in his head. It
did make sense... to make your own paradise. It seemed... almost too good to
be true. "Why not Heaven then?" He asked. "Why don't the dead go to
Heaven?"
	"Ah, that's where you come in Azrael. The gates of Heaven have
stood closed to all but Angels since time immemorial. A shame really...
because Heaven bears an enchantment of sorts... you see, it expands to
accommodate everyone there. When I saw sentient beings dying and being
denied Heaven... I vouched in the halls of Heaven that the gates be opened.
And I was cast out for believe that mortals could ever be on par-- could
ever be deserving of what Angels have."
	"That's it? That was the reason for
your fall from grace?"
	Lucifer nodded sadly. "We're a proud race
Azrael."
	Jason raised his voice. "So where do I come in? You said 'that's
where you come in,' what is it you want me to do?"
	Lucifer looked past him
wistfully. "Azrael, it's never been so good here. This is paradise... but
though I love to rule in Hell... Oh how I miss the taste of Heaven. It
simply cannot compare." His eyes focused suddenly on the boy. "I want to go
home Jason. I--" He quickly composed himself. "You'll know what to do when
the time comes old friend. Don't be afraid to do what you know to be
right."

***

	Mr. and Mrs. Parker returned from their afternoon walk. They
rounded the corner and found their driveway gate standing wide open. Their
eyes met briefly before they both tore off at a run, racing up the drive
towards their house. Mr. Parker slowed as he saw the sleek black car idling
before the front door. The passenger door opened and a brisk looking woman
with straight strawberry-blond red hair stepped out. She pulled her gloved
hands from the pockets of her black coat and nodded at him before opening
the rear passenger door for him.
	Mr. Parker turned to his wife, his mouth
open ready to explain.
	She beat him to the mark. "Oh no you don't! This is
Christmas day, your family is here, you are NOT leaving!"
	"Elizabeth, I'm
sorry. I don't have a choice. I have to go. I'll be back as soon as I can."
He quickly kissed her to silence any further complaints before striding to
the car and sliding into the back seat. The red head shut the door firmly,
looked at Mrs. Parker, gave her a half-bow and then got back into the car.
Before her door even closed, the car was moving, crunching gravel as it
curved around the new fountain and down the drive again.
	Elizabeth sighed
heavily before carrying on into her house. She called up the stairs as she
removed her coat and hung it up. "Guys, your father got called away to work,
it was an emergency. I'm sure he'll be back soon, it's just---"
	She was cut
short as Sara came racing out of the living room. "MOM! Jason's
been--"

***

	Mr. Parker took off his coat in the warm car. "You better
have a bloody good reason for taking me away on Christmas day, Nicole."
	The
woman in the front seat turned to hand him a briefcase. "It's started," she
said simply, and his breath caught in his throat
	He opened the briefcase
quickly and pulled out the manila file inside. The color drained from his
face. "Jason..." he mouthed.

***

	Matt shot down in a shower of golden
light from the sky, before crashing bodily into an invisible force in the
air. He cried out as his body took form in his shock and he forced his wings
to form to keep himself from falling to the distant ground. His wings
ruffled with the cold mountain air, and had he been human, he would have
been unable to breath, so thin was the atmosphere. He tried to transport
himself again, the golden light welling up around him. Once more though, his
magical body collided with the invisible force, and he was forced into
corporeal form.
	"My my mother, you do guard yourself well."
	Relying on his
wings alone to travel, he soared through the biting winds and soon passed
over what once must have been a Tibetan monastery. Now however, it was
little more than scorched rubble. The wind whistled shrilly, and he began
losing altitude. Matt beat his wings faster to stay aloft, straining against
some invisible force, but they were quickly failing. He just managed to
reach a crest, clipping the rocks on top with his feet, when his wings gave
out. He tumbled to down into the snow, his wings bending painfully as he
rolled down the steep incline. A crag of rock on the edge of a plateau broke
his fall. He groaned and crawled to his knees. He stretched his wings to
make sure they weren't broken, and winced as several of his gleaming white
feathers fell free. He stood and looked across the valley he now stood in.
High up on the next peak, he could make out a dark splodge against the snow.
His angelic vision zoomed forwards until he could make out a massive set of
ebony doors built into the mountainside. He drew his wings tightly around
his body like a cloak, shivering in the cold. As he trudged forwards towards
his distant destination, he forced layer after layer of warm clothes out of
his wrists to wrap themselves around his body.

***

	"Elizabeth--" Mr.
Parker said, answering his cell phone.
	"Jason's missing," she gushed. "Sara
said he was taken, and Matt's nowhere to be found either--"
	"I know dear. I
know. I can't explain now, but don't worry about Matthew. It wasn't him.
Tell Sara to get her people ready. Tell her it's started. Don't ask how I
know about her, please just do it? I'm doing everything I can to bring Jason
home safely. I'll be back as soon as I can." He folded his phone, hanging
up.

***

	"Mom?" Sara asked, standing before her mother. "What's going on?
Is he coming back? We have to tell him everything about Matthew and Damien
and--"
	Elizabeth hung up the phone with a trembling hand and set the
handset on the kitchen counter. "You father says to get your people ready
and that it's started."
	Sara stared at her for a moment. "What?"
	Elizabeth
set a kettle on the stove with trembling hands. She reached into the
cupboard and took down a mug. Sara watched as it tumbled from her shaking
grasp and shattered on the floor. Her mother crouched to pick up the pieces,
before sinking to her knees as tears welled up in her eyes and began
coursing down her cheeks. She looked up at her daughter. "Bring my baby
home, Sara. I don't want to lose another son..."

	Sara was out of the
kitchen in seconds. She ran through the living room and up the stairs. She
spied Drew and Scott at the end of the corridor, searching every room for
any sign of her brother or Matthew.
	"Scott, get your stuff to go. It's
started." She shouted down the hall to them before bursting into her room
and pulling open her wardrobe. She tore the hanging clothes aside and tugged
open the secret compartment. She grabbed the two duffle bags inside and
stuffed everything she could reach into them. She hoisted them onto her
shoulders and turned to find Scott already waiting for her at her door, his
two bags on his back. She took a step towards him and the glittering sword
on her bedspread caught her eye. She took Matthew's present to her in her
hands and drew the blade partway. "Let's hope you were right about this
sword Matthew..."
	Together, they rushed down the hall. Drew stood by the
top of the stairs looking like a frightened child.
	"What's happening?" He
asked them anxiously.
	"Don't worry, I'll come back, but we have to leave
right now. It's about Jason." Scott told him.
	Sara mounted the stairs and
then stopped, looking back up at the boy. "Drew, go into the kitchen. My mom
needs someone right now, and there's no-one else." She hurried down the
stairs, the door banging open as she and Scott left, and then slamming
shut.
	Drew hurried down after them and into the kitchen. He saw the
shattered mug on the floor beside Jason's crying mother. Instinct took over,
and he helped her up into a chair by the breakfast table. He turned the
stove on to boil the kettle that was already there, took two more mugs down
and got out the tea. He found a broom and carefully swept the shards onto
some newspaper before putting it in the trash and pouring the boiled water
in the mugs. He took the cups back to the table and set one before Jason's
mother and one before himself. Drew looked at her trembling hands as she
took a slow sip.
	"Thank you," she mumbled.
	Drew reached out and wrapped
his hands around Elizabeth's jittering hands. "What's going on?"
	She looked
at him, tears forming in her eyes. Then she looked quickly out the window,
never saying a word.
	"If it helps... I-- I know about Matt..." He said
gently. "You can tell me..."
	She looked back at him. Her lip trembled and
the sides of her mouth twitched as if she was about to burst into tears.
"They're going to kill Jason."

***

	Mr. Parker was bustled through the
busy corridor. He'd never seen Antioch so busy before. They'd driven at top
speed, joining up with a motorcade of other cars, all headed to the
motherhouse. Entire highways had been cleared so that the hundred or so cars
could move en-masse unobstructed. They'd pulled into the motherhouse along
with the others. There was no sense of joviality or welcome, just a sense of
urgency tinged with fear.
	He'd changed in the car, and now dressed in
snappy business attire, he blended in with the mass of people making their
way towards the council room. Their heels clicked down the corridors as
aides ran up and down, weaving in and out to deliver reports to various
places.
	Once in the council room, they all took their seats around the
massive round table, their secretaries sitting besides them. Nicole leaned
in close to him and whispered so only he could hear, "He's your son. Expect
to be put on the spot about this."
	He nodded his grim thanks to her as the
last members of the council took their seats and the meeting
began.

***



	Well... that chapter got really fast at the end. Um... I
wanted to get this posted quickly and not make you wait longer, so it's a
bit short. I'm going to go start chapter 25 now, because I couldn't figure
out how to carry this one on from here, but I know where to start that one,
so I'll work around a bit. I don't really have anything witty to say in this
one, sorry to disappoint. I don't know how many of you actually read these
anyway... oh well. See you in the next installment.