Azrael Abaddon, known better to his demonic peers as âThe Destroyerâ has been summoned to Heaven on a mission of mercy to reunite Eve with her murderous son, Cain. Motivated by a rare, undemon-like desire to aid the infamous mother, Azrael pits himself into Satanic conspiracies, angelic assassinations, and matches wits with apocalyptic angels, an enterprising antichrist and Almighty God, Himself. But when the devil is found dead, Azrael realizes a far more sinister game is being played and the mysterious Godthread may be the most important piece of all.
Azrael Abaddon, known better to his demonic peers as âThe Destroyerâ has been summoned to Heaven on a mission of mercy to reunite Eve with her murderous son, Cain. Motivated by a rare, undemon-like desire to aid the infamous mother, Azrael pits himself into Satanic conspiracies, angelic assassinations, and matches wits with apocalyptic angels, an enterprising antichrist and Almighty God, Himself. But when the devil is found dead, Azrael realizes a far more sinister game is being played and the mysterious Godthread may be the most important piece of all.
I stood like a black stain against the white garment of the kingdom of Shemayim, the place the flesh call âHeavenâ. The eyes of the other angels seemed to urge me to leave lest I start to set.Â
Though they might have disagreed, I had been invited. Iâd found the shriveled pieces of fruit, like figs, or plums tossed outside of my den . The fruit had been thrown over the bottomless breach that separated Sheolum from Shemayim. It had not happened once or twice; like most things in scripture, it came in threes. My only clue on who delivered it was, if they were from Shemayim, it was a hell of a throw.
I had only to look a hundred or so cubits to see where the fruit had been plucked. The Tree of Life burst with plump golden fruit; I could see beside it, the line of saints, hungry for this seasonâs portion of immortality.Â
Until this moment, the angels had been content with staring at me. But now, as though with a single voice, their opposition escalated into speech.Â
âThatâs far enough, demon!â
I had always considered it an unfair moniker. But it was accurate. I had long ago traded my figurative halo for figurative horns.Â
My six wings and several arms I received to serve in Shemayim. My soot and armor I received after choosing poorly during the Great Rebellion. Chains and hooks ran over my shoulder and down my right arm. On my head was a helm crafted from the skull of a buzzard. Beneath that, sat my smirk.
Threeâalways threeâgathered around me. They were cherubim class and not even permitted to wield a sword. They were creatures created for worshipâthat made four of us.
âState your business,â one called.Â
âI was summoned here. I assume to talk.â
âI meant what is your name? Are you a demon of Wrath, Sloth, or Complacency?â
âMy name is Azrael Abaddon,â I braced myself for their reaction.Â
They didnât disappoint.
âThe Destroyer?â they said in unison.Â
Every word means something. In Shemayim, you have to know your Greek, Hebrew and it doesnât pay to be a slouch in Aramaic either. Donât pay attention to the meaning and it will get you in trouble every time. Â
âTechnically, thatâs the translation,â I said. âBut I havenât destroyed anything in a long time.â
Another angel fluttered down. This one I knew. He was called Zayin, meaning âswordâ, if youâre interested. His looks matched his name as he had multiple arms shaped into long, sharp tools, and a winged head which looked suspiciously like a fancy hilt. He folded his other four wings behind him and the image of him as a flaming scimitar came into focus. Â
âBegone, Azrael,â Zayin said. âIâve had a demon-free week so far and Iâd like to keep it that way.â
âThen one of us isnât doing his job,â I said. He was already in a bad moodâit didnât help.
His eyes pierced the shadows in me, telling me I was a moment away from having his sharp limbs turned against my hide.Â
âDisarm,â he said . âIf you do have business here, youâll leave your darts.â
âI donât have any,â I said. In my defense, it was true.
âThis one doesnât need weapons,â another angel shouted from further up and further in. âLet him in.â
The angelâs name was Taleh. He was jovial, friendly, and everything the flesh would want an angel to be. If I liked any of them, it would be him.Â
âHe says he was invited,â Zayin said. âTaleh, do you know anything about his demands?â
Taleh made no motion to move closer, but the kindness in his voice gave him a disarming amount of intimacy.Â
âOnly that he has a right to them,â Taleh answered. âLet him up.â
Zayin and the others prepared to launch a rebuttal but turning towards the blinding light of the kingdom of Shemayim seemed to make them a little less self-righteous.
Taleh did not draw a weapon or cross his many arms. Instead, he shook his mane of long, flossen wool that mostly covered his face and let pure gold light pour from his seven eyes.Â
âWeâll surrender him to your custody,â Zayin said proudly, steam emanating from his body as I walked past him.Â
âWho are you here to see?â Taleh asked me.
âIâm going to the garden,â I said as I began to hike up the dirty hill covered in amethyst and garnet until I reached Taleh. Standing beside the angel, I succeeded in getting a better view of the expanse of Shemayim.
The âCelestial Cityâ, as John Bunyan described it, spread out, separating us with its twelve gates and jasper walls. The city of gold lifted upward to reach even higher into the sky on which it already sat.Â
Outside of the city, on the edge of the firmament, were the seven angels of judgment. The impossibly large monuments each held their bowls of plague and punishment above Eretz, the great experiment called Earth.
Each of the angels was specific to their place. At the appointed time, Krysis, the chief judgment angel, would lead the others in pouring out disaster upon the globe. His bowl would cover Eretzâs population in festering sores. Tiamet and Nahar would turn the seas and rivers to blood, respectively. Ayelet would pour out his bowl of brimstone upon the sun and scorch Eretz with fire. Erebus would then bring darkness upon Eretz while Parat's bowl would bestow a substance that would dry the River Euphrates. Eolic would serve the final blow, wiping out the major cities of Eretz.
Most of the demons agreed that Eretz didnât need the help.
âThey ever get a rest?â I asked.
âI donât think Krysis would take it if we gave it to him.â
At the heart of Shemayim sat the Throne, where rested Elohim the Almighty. Around Him the cherubs danced, surrounding El as if to beckon me back to my position of endless worship.Â
Close to the Throne there was a space the angels refused to allow themselves to pass or to occupy. The space was not marked by a platform, a pedestal and certainly not a cloud. The air about the position seemed permanently molded to the figure of the one who held it. To rise above it seemed seditious, to take it seemed self-indulgent.Â
The angels refused to speak of that station, that axis, where the Morningstar, better known as the Devil, had performed. It was no mystery why the Morningstar rebelled. If a flesh couldnât keep from pocketing change from a register or skimming a few hundred thousand here and there, then it was unavoidable that Shemayimâs leader of worship would eventually want his cut.
The Almighty shouldâve seen it coming.
 âAre you ever going to fill that position?â I asked Taleh, even as I knew he wouldnât bother to answer.Â
He fulfilled my expectation by responding with silence.
I pointed below the Throne to our destination. There, it was impossible to tell whether the Tree of Life flowed up or whether the base of the Throne turned into the long-spreading branches and descended toward the middle of the garden: Edenâs final resting place.Â
âDo you know who it was that summoned you?â Taleh asked.
âI have a good idea,â I said. She couldâve thrown gems or gold bricks, and no one would have missed them. But she took a risk sending me a token that meant something. It could only mean she was in trouble.
âUh, huh⌠I canât just let you talk to one of the redeemed. We canât allow them to be tormented.â
I looked around and saw Talehâs point. What danger could she have possibly found herself in? What darkness could lurk in the Celestial City that I had not brought with me?
I deflected him. âAnd what torment do I look fit to give?âÂ
âNo more and no less than any other thing that crawls outside of Shemayimâs wall. And isnât that enough?â He didnât condemn meâhe spoke only the truth. âI once heard the Devil himself destroy a life with a sentence.âÂ
âOh, donât tell me youâre one of those angels, Taleh. Do you blame everything on us? Iâm sure the Morningstar only presented an ideaâthe flesh burns itself.â
We came to where leaves of jade and emerald marked the edge of the green. The forest was a transplant, a redeemed and uplifted Garden of Eden. We marched through, finding as much underbrush as memories in the age-old glen.Â
âWhat does the Throne have you doing now, Taleh?â
He didnât answer.Â
âThatâs not very polite for an angel of the Host,â I said. âI heard you were on guardian duty. Stationed in a slum of a city in Northern AmericaâŚwatching a nobody.â
âNobody is a nobody.â Taleh smiled. His smile was genuine, heartfelt and it burned to look at it; I hated it.
âYou brought down the left flank at Babylon. You were in the Upper Room. You touched the coal to Isaiahâs lips. What did you do to screw up so badly?â
He laughed like he didnât understand anything I said. âI donât think Shemayim rewards the way Sheolum punishes.â
We continued walking as the brush separated into a clearing. She sat in the middle, bare skin in the dirt, tending to Godâs garden. Behind her, the Tree of Life stood like a column of white marble.
Taleh held out one of his seven arms to stop me. I let him.
âYou may not need your darts, but you do overcompensate.â He smiled as if his strong-arming of me wasnât literal. âAnd you do like to lie.â
I opened my wings and dropped my armaments. My bolt shooters clamored in the gem-laden dirt.
âThanks,â Taleh said.
I took one step into the garden, and I could already hear the buzz of Zayin and his cronies as they swarmed to catch up. I knew Taleh would hold them offâI didnât know for how long.Â
The woman saw me and turned her shoulder blade towards me in a show of apparent rejection. She waited until I was only a handful of cubits away to finally acknowledge me.
âDonât come any farther.â She pinned me in place with her words. I had to obey her. It was how He commanded it. âI donât have any locks of hair to give you or toenails or whatever else you want to sell in Bethesdaâs little icon shops.â
âI didnât come for any of that,â I forgot sheâs more than just a woman to many of the denizens of my district. Sheâs the first.Â
 âReally, then who sent you?â Eve said in a hushed whisper that made her blonde hair ripple away from her shoulder. Her skin shone with the afterglow of innocence; it was a new look for her.
âYou did.â My demonic nature allowed my patience to slip. âOr did you simply aim wrong when you were tossing the fruit of the Tree of Life.â
Eveâs head turned and she peered at me from over her shoulder. âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
It was my turn to smile. I knew a lie when I heard it. But then I remembered where we were. âI thought you called me to say, âthank you.ââ
She looked at me quizzically. I decided to help her along.
âWhy are you hiding, child?â I said.Â
Her reaction was instantaneous; her face distorted into disgust.Â
She remembered.
***
âChildren? Children, where are you?â The Almighty had asked.
He was bigger than creation; it seemed hard to believe He couldnât see both Eve and her husband hiding in the shrubs off to the right.Â
The man must have known this. He stood first.Â
âI heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so, I hid.â
And He said, âWho told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?â
One child tattled on the other and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.
The man said, âThe woman you put here with meâshe gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.â
From my perch it seemed as if she would bite him, but her fear kept her from further indiscretion. As she trembled before the Almighty, she looked cold.
Two fawns grazed in the cool of the evening. I took out my sword and I killed the first living creatures. I donât know if I knew what the blade would truly do to living flesh, but I knew from my experience in the rebellion it was unlikely they would be able to trot away after I skinned their broken forms. With only a few folds and a quick tie, I made clothes for both the man and the woman and laid them outside the garden.Â
The couple collected them. I like to think if they had not been encumbered with tragedy they might have smiled.
***
âThat was you?â
I nodded; my modesty had been burned away long ago.
âI had named them,â she said despondently.
âWould you have preferred tortoise skins instead?Â
Now, millennia later , she allowed herself to laugh. âYouâre right, I should have thanked you.â
âSo, howâd it go?â
She looked at my soot-stained and black-winged form. âA little better for me than it seems it did for you.â
I shrugged. âI canât complain. Iâm free.âÂ
âFree?â She traded hiding behind her shoulder to hiding behind a smile.Â
âFree. I can walk in Shemayim, Sheloum and Eretz.â
âBut you can only stay one of those places.â
I didnât let a beat pass. âHow did the rest of your 940 years treat you?â
Her eyes dropped, going back to her glittering garden.
I didnât let the silence stay. âSomething I always wondered: how does the garden grow if the only dirt here is diamonds?â
âI think weâre done, donât you?â
Zayin saw she wasnât talking to me and started marching our way.
âCain misses you.â
Her eyes turned back in an instant; she was finally done pretending.
âHe remembers me?â
âSome would say thatâs the problem with Sheolum; he canât forget.â
Zayin was only steps away, but I said it anyway, low and under my breath. âWould you like to talk to him?â
Her eyes grew wide enough to swallow me.
âAlright, you,â Zayin said. âWhy donât you get back to Sheolum?â
Colloquially, he was telling me to go to Hell.
âCan you tell him to take a number,â I asked Eve.
âGo answer a prayer, Zayin,â Eve fired back.
Disgruntled, but obedient, Zayin left, stopping when he was fifty cubits awayâeven he would struggle to hear the rest of our conversation. We continued in hushed tones.
âCain canât come here,â she said.
âWe could do it over there,â I pointed to the cliff that overlooked Sheolum and, incidentally, my den. The overlook was called the Bosom of Abraham by the locals, though I canât imagine Abraham himself was too fond of the slang.
âSo, you can do it?â Eve said, dropping all pretense of not calling for me. This is what she wanted all along. I just didnât know why.Â
âYeah. I can do it,â I gave a side-glance to the Throne of the Most High. âItâs a tall order. Iâll need something to grease a few palms.âÂ
I started walking backwards with only my memory to guide me. I prayed, snickering as I did, that both Zayin and the Almighty would be blind to my movements.
âYou have something in mind?â she asked.
The bark of the Tree of Life burned me as I backed up against it. It was a familiar feeling. My talons reached out as I stretched my wings to hide them. My claws plucked a piece of fruit from the tree.Â
She gasped. Her eyes traveled immediately up the trunk to the Throne. For a moment I expected all of Shemayim to erupt in fiery swords and shouts.Â
But it didnât.
I tossed the glowing fig behind my back and clutched it to my spine with my wings.Â
Eve let out a sigh. âWhat are you going to do with it?â
I knocked my head back towards her Keeper. âBetter if you donât know. Iâll come back to tell you when to meet Cain. In the meantimeâdonât think about it.â
âOkay,â she said quietly.Â
I turned with the intention of bumping shoulders with Zayin as I left, but she called out. âWhy would you do all this for me?â
I didnât answer.Â
***
Adam was a work of sloppiness: a top-heavy specimen of crude misshapen words overlaid with perfunctory elements. He was obscene in his cut corners and embarrassing in his simplicity.
The addition of Eve, however, made it seem as if all of Adamâs misshapen crudeness was purposeful.Â
âHave you seen the flesh?â Taleh had asked me.Â
âOf course I did. I watched the Throne create the man. In fact, I stood next to you as He did.â
âBut did you see what the Throne is making out of the man?â
âAnother man?â
âA woman, Adam calls it.â Talehâs voice was full of wonder.Â
I look down at Eretz spinning below us. âI know it takes creativity to know creativity. But that doesnât sound original.â
âThatâs not the point. You have to see her.â
It, too, was a new concept. âHer?â
***
âI donât know,â I lied in answer to Eve. âWhy do you want to see Cain? It canât be easy to remember him. I thought Shemayim was the cure for all of lifeâs pains and foibles.â
Her eyes broke contact and she stared down at the gems in the dirt.Â
âNot love, apparently.â
Azrael Abaddon, better known as The Destroyer, has been tasked with an unusual quest. Reunite Eve with her son Cain.
Â
More than a little intrigued, Azrael accepts the task, even though the mere act of kindness is very un-demonlike. But Azrael has no idea of the interwoven stories and their butterfly effects he is about to encounter, both in heaven and hell, and places in between.
Â
When Morningstar meets his demise, uncertainty and chaos abound, which is to be expected, but Azrael can work off this. The Godthread, however, now thatâs a different storyâŚ
Â
When asked to review this, I had no idea how Iâd feel about it. Would it be a story filled with fire and brimstone and an Old Testament wrath, or would it be a satire on an old story? It was neither and yet it was both, written in a noir style that captured a fascinating way of looking at the relationship between the angels and demons, their history, their interactions with the devil and the Almighty, and their view of the âfleshâ on Earth.
Â
The author cleverly moves back and forth to the telling of the first sin and the repercussions, both at the time and later, with the punishment inflicted on those involved. As we are taken between the realms, the descriptions of the demons and angels (both terrifying) and the worlds and lands they are dominion over (both terrifying) are vivid and give new imagery to the idea of fire down below and clouds up above.
Â
Azraelâs journey is somewhat surprising in that some actions would not be expected from a demon, and the sub-plots and secrets, both with demons alone as well as demons and angels working together, are hinted at gradually until an ending that I did not foresee coming. Probably should have, but there were a number of ways this could have gone and the author definitely picked the right one!
Â
What let this book down were a number of different proofing errors. From action and dialogue tags being mixed up, which influenced punctuation and capital letters, to backwards quotation marks, to wrong words being used. The writing style, however, was fluid and so descriptive that it was easy to consume this story rapidly.
Â
A well-imagined tale, with the focus on a clever story, in a setting and with characters as old as time.