Chapter 2

A whole fucking year. That's how long it's been since I fucked shit up and plunged the entire earth to hell–literally, in this case, since hell now ran the place.

Things had quieted down since the sky tore open–well, if you ignored the constant screaming in the distance and tortured souls by the fountain. And the fact that my boss was… Grog now.

Humans hated me too. Somehow, the Devil found it ‘nice’ to attribute all of his ‘success’ to me. The girl I liked hated me now. And everyone wanted nothing to do with the man who betrayed humanity.

The Devil himself, apparently feeling generous, decided to make my ‘wish’ permanent and let me keep my job. Now I'm back to the same costume, same foam head and same spot outside Universal Film Studios.

The only difference was the fiery theme.

“Mister Captain X," a small demon child said, scratching at my foam boots with a clawed hand, “make place hotter."

“Oh, buddy," I said with a laugh, placing my hand on my waist, “Captain X doesn't control the thermostat."

“MAKE PLACE HOTTER!" he screamed with a voice that actually sent shivers down my spine.

Times like this actually make me miss those entitled rich human parents and their sticky, overfed human kids. At least all they wanted were photos and Cheerios.

But these human overfed creatures–they wanted the sun to personally suffer.

I was midway through explaining, for the hundredth time, that no, I could not make Hell any hotter, when I caught a hooded figure suddenly step out of the line.

They were tall, robed, with a face shadowed by a hood. They carried a presence that, before the apocalypse, would've gotten the police called. Now it fit right in.

A horned sexy-ass demoness–they can be hot though, won't lie–came over and dragged the complaining child away. Sighing, I put on my cartoon voice again and turned to the approaching cloaked figure.

“Welcome to Universal Film Park, where your greatest nightmares come true!" I said, spreading my arms wide. “Your tickets, please." Then, under my breath, I added, “You shit."

The figure remained still, silent.

“Sir–Ma’am–demon?" I tried again, “You're holding up the line so–”

A hand suddenly shot out from the sleeve and touched my chest before I could react. Then the entire world went out like a light.

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A loud gasp tore out of my chest as I dropped to my knees onto the floor.

No. There was no floor. There was no… nothing. Just a flat, featureless black nothing that stretched endlessly in every direction.

“Oh, shit," I said, my voice trembling as I slowly rose to my feet. "Okay, okay, okay. Where… where the hell–actually, am I in hell? Is this a new hell? Have I been promoted?"

“You're not in Hell, David,” a voice said behind me, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

Snapping my head around, I found the hooded figure standing there, patient, hands folded like we were about to discuss my car's extended warranty.

"You!” I hissed, angry now as I pulled the foam head off. "You brought me here? Who the hell are you?"

The figure slowly reached his hands up and drew back his hood, revealing a face that–I kid you not–was made entirely of night. I squinted, my eyes searching for a nose to focus on.

"I am Mickael," the figure said, in a voice that was as soft as a whisper. "Angel of Light. Archangel of the Heavenly Host. Leader of the Angel Corps. Bearer of Good News."

I stared at him for a solid three seconds before muttering, "Not this shit again, man.”

Mickael tilted his head. "Language, David.”

"It's Davi–” I paused, my eyes widening slightly. "Oh, you said my name right.”

The angel tried to speak, but I raised a hand, cutting him short.

I rubbed my tired eyes. "Look, no offense, Mickey–can I call you Mickey?"

He didn't answer.

“Anyways,” I continued nonetheless, "I've done the whole ‘mysterious powerful being pulls me in to ruin my life' bit already, and frankly, the Devil has better… rendering quality.” I shook the memory away. "Can you just… take me back to work? I clock out in like thirty minutes, and Grog would be pissed if I'm gone too long."

Mickael simply lifted his glowing hands, and with a small motion of his fingers, a screen shimmered to life between us. The screen showed me, right now, standing at my post in the park. I looked like I was chatting amiably with the Angel's hooded figure.

"Not the finest illusion I've made,” Mickael said with a shrug, “but it should hold. To anyone watching us, we're simply having a conversation."

I stared at the flickering screen. “Yeah. Not suspicious at all."

"Alright, let's take this from the top." With a clap of his hand, the screen vanished. “I am Mickael, Angel of blah, blah, Archangel blah, and… yeah, bearer of good news."

I frowned at his vague, holy PR lazy bit. “What… good news?"

“Well, as a result of your carelessness, naivety, and greediness," he began, in an almost professional tone, “the Devil has now claimed total dominion over the entire universe."

“Well… that doesn't sound like good news,” I mumbled, swaying from foot to foot… when it hit me. “Wait, did you say the entire universe?"

Mickael opened his palm, and another screen bloomed in the dark nothing, spreading all around me. It zoomed out of Earth, past stars, and revealed starfields, fleets and whole planets folding in on themselves like a crumbling house of cards. Bright cities went dark and chained figures were pulled out of wreckages by demons holding spears and crude weapons.

"Whoa," I said, quietly, watching the entire thing. "I–I thought it was just Earth."

Mickael made a scoffing sound. "You humans are limited to what your eyes can see, and are so certain that it is all there is.” He closed his fist and the screen folded shut. “It's in your nature. So I'm not surprised your greed led you to hand over the gate of every living thing to the single most evil being to ever exist."

“Well," I muttered, scratching my head, "Every human’s come to hate me after the devil announced my ‘aid’ to the entire fucking world."

“Stating the obvious."

“Yeah, well… it's a vibe, Mickey."

“But there is good news," Mickael went on, his voice brightening. “The Angel Corps requires your assistance with a task. In exchange, we will petition the Maker on your behalf so your eventual sentence in Hell will be reduced by half an eternity. When the time is past, you will be granted entry through our gates, rather than his.”

"A task," I repeated.

"A small task.” He already has glowing hands. “The universe is here to offer you a chance to undo the evil you've brought upon this world."

"Right." I swallowed. "The evil I brought."

"Correct!" Mickael clasped his hands together, delighted with my grasp of the obvious. "Isn't it wonderful, the opportunity to fix your mistakes?"

I remained quiet for a moment as I thought about the demon kid screaming for a Hotter hell, the girl who used to barely notice me now flipping the bird at me when she sees the suit. I thought about the destruction he'd shown me–all because I let the Devil fool me.

"Okay," I said.

Mickael seemed to blink. "Okay?"

"Yeah.” I nodded. “I'll do it."

"You haven't asked what the task entails."

"It really doesn't matter." I shrugged, my voice steadier than I felt. “Look, Mickey, I broke the whole damn universe, and I've taken my time to learn about the consequences of that. If there's a chance to undo even a piece of it, I'll take it.”

“Oh, joy," Mickael said, spreading his arms like he was unveiling a prize on a game show. "Welcome to the Angel Corps, David. Your commitment to atonement has been noted and will be reflected favorably in your file."

I frowned. "I have a file?"

"Everyone has a file." He was already turning, robes whispering against nothing. "Follow me, please. Mind the void."

Mickael snapped his fingers, and the black void folded away. In an instant, we were back to the park, standing exactly how the screen had shown us. I looked around, a bit surprised that no one suspected a thing.

"Follow me," Mickael whispered, already turning, his light barely visible from the hood.

I looked down at myself–my foam suit, the stupid bag of Cheerios still clutched in one hand–and cursed. Grog was going to get mad.

Tossing the bag to the side, I followed the angel of light into the dark.

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