This ordinary woman had a sort of complexity to her that wasn’t meant to be held by humans; she carried numerous burdens that were too many for one
brain to handle. Why hadn’t she prayed to have the burdens lifted from her? Why hadn’t God or one of the angels freed her mind of all this
“No, that’s…” He began to understand the answer to his unspoken questions.
He felt so very heavy now, his soul one with the body he now inhabited. And, to top it off, everything around him felt wrong as well; the link was
gone. He couldn’t sense the angels anymore, couldn’t hear their calls in the air, couldn’t reach out to any of them.
There was only one thing that could sever the connection to the angels.
It was a terrible thing… a monumental, catastrophic thing…
“They’re gone.” He uttered in astonishment. “They’re… gone. I can’t feel them. They’re all gone forever. They don’t… they
He couldn’t feel the presence of The Lord, that infinite feeling, that imminent glory that would sweep over men and angels alike, striking
everyone with its almighty power and purity. No, that was completely gone from the world. Now, there was nothing but a small room containing a few
ordinary humans, none of whom had any faith.
But now, there was nothing for them to have faith in.
How could the world around him become so very vacant? Were all his brothers truly gone? Was he the only one to have survived?
There were no omniscient presences in the world now.
He was unsure if he could even call himself holy or omniscient. His energy surged, his palms hot as he enclosed his fists and his stomach searing as
it attempted to heal itself, but apart from him—apart from the fiery, inhuman soul trapped at the core of this body—there was no angelic energy
left in the entire universe.
Feeling as though he might have misread everything, he placed his hands on the woman’s cheeks, pressing his forehead against hers and forcing his
way into her mind even further. The convoluted, stress induced thoughts remained ever prominent in the surgeon’s head. He hadn’t made a mistake.
There was no God, and this human, as well as presumably every human in the world, was dealing with life’s problems on her own, without a God,
without guidance from any guardian angels.
“H-h-how are you…” The woman sputtered.
“I…” The man said. “I think I… I must have latched onto a human when I was close to death. It was a last resort, a way to save myself,
before I… yes… I had no choice. There was a war. There was a war…”
The memories rushed back to him a little too quickly.
“There was a war, between the angels and the demons… and God was losing. He was losing because his power had weakened, yes, I remember… he
became weak when the people lost faith in him. And so, the demons raged over the earth… the angels were dying… and I… I was the last one… I am
the last one…”
The surgeon woman was petrified, and she didn’t dare move. The other two surgeons watched from yards away, and the man didn’t remove his hands
from her face. He continued gazing into her with rapt attentiveness, then, his eyes drifted over her body, her surgical outfit, her white jacket, and
the little nametag on the left side of her chest, which read; Aziah
“I… oh.” He mumbled. “I’m supposed to be… wearing clothes.”
Only just realizing that he was naked, the man wandered out of the room, his hand clamping over his injured stomach once again. He entered the
hallway, leaving a tiny trail of blood on the otherwise spotless floor as he did. The first closet was a couple of rooms down. He opened it, located a
pile of folded surgical gowns on one of the middle shelves, and began dressing himself.
He managed to slide his legs into a pair of thin, green pants by the time the woman had stepped into the hallway, watching him curiously.
Once he was fully dressed in his light green scrubs, the front of the shirt had already started darkening from where the blood was escaping his open
stomach. He grasped it again, gritting his teeth and giving the surgeon woman another long stare.
“I may borrow your name. I can’t remember mine.” He told her. “Is that okay?”
The woman nodded.
“Aziah.” He deemed himself. “I… I quite like it.”
The angel man attempted a smile before turning and walking slowly towards the next room. This room was empty, with no surgeons, archeologists, or
corpses inside. The only thing occupying this room was an open window.
Just what he wanted.
Aziah slid the window open. It was definitely large enough for him to fit through, but after he looked down, he realized he’d have a huge fall if
So, he climbed into the window and attempted to channel his power, ignoring the pain in his abdomen.
He made the leap.
As he descended, he noticed he was falling much faster than he wanted to. Perhaps it was the weight of a human body, or that his power simply
wasn’t functioning properly.
Instead of hitting the pavement of the street down below, Aziah landed in a huge metal box filled with plastic bags of garbage. The dumpster lids had
been left open, thankfully. He lay awkwardly in between the endless, smelly bags, his body lost amongst them and his limbs sprawled in every
direction. The landing didn’t hurt him, but his stomach was positively screaming in pain now.
It took him a moment to dig his way out of the garbage bags, and the horrid scent nearly gagged him. He pulled himself out of the dumpster and
flipped over the edge, landing harshly on the sidewalk beside the road.
Aziah balled his hand into a fist, glimpsing up when he heard the low rumbling of a vehicle nearby. A silver car rolled by him, and the driver gave
him a strange look in passing. It was followed by a green minivan, then a small pickup truck. He gave each of the vehicles a studying glare as they
The machines were completely new to him. He never imagined that a human could travel by sitting comfortably inside of a huge metal contraption.
Cars continued to pass, and Aziah’s attention shifted to the other streets, all full of vehicles, then to the buildings a little ways north; it was
a city, and it shone with the intensity of a thousand stars under the sunlight. Humans built those enormous buildings? Was that even possible?
Aziah stood, the blood from his wound seeping through his scrubs and oozing between his fingers.
This wasn’t the world he knew.
There were no Gods or angels, or even demons.
There were only humans.
But this advancement, this progress, this ridiculous world before him—how could it have happened when the humans had been left without guidance for
so long? These beautiful vehicles, those towering buildings. Were they truly capable of creating such amazing things by themselves? Had the times
really changed that much? How long had he been gone?
Aziah glimpsed around until spotting a middle aged man leaning out of a truck, his arm folded on the window’s edge and his eyes narrowing at the
angel man. The truck driver had stopped in the middle of the road, halting traffic and causing a few of the vehicles behind him to blow their horns
out of irritation.
“Hey, buddy. You alright?” The truck driver yelled, motioning towards Aziah. “You’re bleeding.”
Aziah wandered over to the truck without bothering to look both ways before crossing the street.
“I’m lost.” Aziah said in a raspy voice, his wound stinging terribly. “Where am I?”
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