Chapter 15

When I prepared to go the American History class, run by Evelyn Howard (really Theresa, but how many knew that), I was stopped in the hallway by a rather rough-looking man, yes a grown man, who gestured to me that I needed to speak privately with him. I was impatient and running late for class (imagine that worry from the future ruler of the planet!), but I humored him, sensing that this mattered. Something was up, so I agreed and joined him in the men’s locker room, which was now empty.

“Okay, who are you and what is this about? I’m late for class, so this had better be good,” I told the guy, who honestly looked like a bit of a bum and smelled rather raunchy, enough that my lunch threatened to expel itself.

“Well, I have many names, but in history, or rather legend, I’m known as Jesus of Nazareth, or Jesus Christ. I flatter myself that the son of a preacher might have heard of me, even one that my true disciples and believers might consider to be the Antichrist. Listen, we need to talk. I’ve got plans and I know that you do, too. You’re the Archon, I get that, but my plans will help both of us. So, here’s the deal. I’m going to grab my folks and take them off Earth, leaving the rest of you guys behind to do your thing.

“Let’s be frank here. Your people and mine don’t see eye to eye. They see the world in almost polar opposite ways. To you, I’m evil and so are they. Vice versa for us. You’re a mortal man endowed with superhuman power by theurgy or magic created by your ancestors from the blood and other relics of the old gods. I’m the Son of God and an angel. Not God himself, despite what my followers think. I was never even a mortal man at all. I just appeared that way at times to some folks, despite what’s in the Gospels.

“You see, to make a very long story short, my Father got the power by overthrowing Ba’al, many centuries past. That’s how Constantine came to power. It’s also why the New Testament refers to the ‘god of this world.’ That was Ba’al, when he was still in power. Now, however, Father is weak and I’m just strong enough to quarantine the mortal plane from the celestial, to seal Heaven off from Earth and the material Cosmos, if you will. This will keep sin out of my plane, but free you from any influence by me, by Father, and by the Holy Ghost, not to mention angels.

“I’m doing this by launching the Rapture as planned and taking all those I deem to be truly Christian, as I see it, and leaving the rest of them to you. Oh, and here are the keys of the Gates of Hell. Feel free to do with Hell as you please, too, and all of the damned. As far as I’ve concerned, you’re all damned in my sight. Now, do you have any requests or suggestions or counter proposals for me before I leave and trigger the Rapture by ascending to Heaven with all of my saints?” the Nazarene informed me, much to my shock, as he handed me an actual ring with black keys.

“Okay, then. Here’s what I want: a complete renunciation of all plagues, apocalyptic suffering or torments, any judgments, etc. No vials, trumpets, seals, etc. No Four Horsemen, no Armageddon. Oh, and the following four people exempt from Rapture, plus my Sages and Companions, no matter how badly you might want them: Mom, Dad, Grandfather Lloyd Smythe, and Donna Davis. Do we have a deal? Oh, and what do you want in return for these?” I asked Jesus, truly curious now as to his intentions.

“Oh, I know why you want those people, not that I blame you so much for wanting to ensure justice. Also, why I don’t approve of sex, being an angel, I understand that you want the young lady in question. I grasp the logic behind it, perverted as it is. As for your parents, I prefer to assume that this is for reasons of sentimentality and filial love, nothing else. I’d rather not dwell on my fears of incestuous intent.

“However, I agree to all of your terms on one major condition: protect the Jews that don’t go to Heaven. Make sure that they’re safe from any pogroms or anything of the sort. Father made a covenant with them, and while most of them haven’t repented, so can’t go to Heaven, they must be kept safe from torment, murder, genocide, etc. Do we have a deal?” Jesus made his own proposition.

“We do. Shake hands on it?” I offered my hand.

“Just this once. But then, we’ll NEVER meet again. Oh, and my true name isn’t Jesus,” Jesus informed me.

“What is it?” I wondered.

“Michael the Archangel. Jesus was an alias I used as a human being. The Jehovah’s Witnesses got a few things right, even if they were wrong about blood transfusions, Hell, and things of that sort. Farewell, and, hey, I’ve gotta say it, just to keep my word, but don’t worry, it doesn’t mean what people feared. Depart from me, evildoer,” Jesus/Michael said as he cast off the “wino” look for a radiant robe, sprouted wings, and began to fly away.

“Yeah, the feeling’s mutual, buddy. Sayonara,” I chuckled as I watched not only Jesus but a bunch of other people just grow wings out of nothing and fly away, the Rapture literally turning these “saints” into angels.

As long as my people were safe, I was fine with that. I didn’t know if Jesus would keep his word, of course, and I didn’t know if this meant that Satan existed, but I would deal with that shortly. First things first, and with Jesus gone, I felt a new power course through my veins along with my blood. Instinctively, I understood what it meant. The presence of the powers of Heaven had partially checked or canceled out some of my nascent abilities, and now I was in my ascendancy. I also had the power of the Gatekeeper of Hell and I knew exactly how to use it. I used my mind and vanished from the Earth, hearing the screams of those shocked by the Rapture replaced by the shrieks of those being tormented in Hell.

I could feel the heat of Hell, too, the flames, and smell the brimstone, the sulphur, but I could no longer feel discomfort or pain from it. I no longer felt any nausea, either, in spite of the horrific sight of people roasting continually in bodies specifically made for that purpose. That was how they got around a lack of nerve endings to inflict torment, I realized. I took the keys, ignored the screams of those suffering the pangs of the damned, and turned the lock, opening the Gates of Hell at last.

Instantly, I was hit by a massive force the like of which I had never seen or felt before. It tried in vain to overpower me. A tall figure, resplendent and majestic, ascended from the abyss just inside Hell itself, as if only held back by these Gates. Other figures, eager to escape also rushed out, but most then suspended themselves as they watched the Devil himself confront me. Satan, Lucifer, the Morning Star. He stood before me and assaulted me again, but in vain. I blew him away with just my breath, much to his astonishment. I could understand his shock, feeling some of it myself: how did a teenage lad possibly withstand the Prince of Darkness?