The Devil Waits

It wasn't that the devil owned the night. It's just that so much beautiful destruction could occur under cover of darkness. 

He waited outside the inn watching her closely. The way she moved, her fragrance, her hair; every ounce of her flesh beckoned him to her. The moon shone brightly in the sky, full and low. Her pale skin looked too sallow in the day, but at night it reflected the soft moonlight in the most agonizing ways. 

He wanted to touch every inch of her skin. His fingers trembled at the thought. Just once, just one night when she was so pure, so white. He wanted to wreck that beauty. His mind was twisting images of her. In his mind he saw her naked and open before him. He paused and held his hands just a fraction above her breasts. Then in a moment of perverse pleasure he imagined it. 

His hand fell upon her silken skin. A finger traced a swirl of a line from the nape of her neck down her collar bone. The black streaks trailing behind. Her face so calm, her doe eyes wide watching him in horror as a scream wells up. The breath she can't take shocks her and her eyes widen in horror.

He smiles at the thought of tainting her this way. Then a heavy sigh escapes him. In reality the one thing he wants more would be to touch her again and see her smile from pleasure. This is his torture, his soul's deep desire split between pleasure and pain. Wanting to bring her harm and enjoying the visions of ways and means to do so tears at the small shreds of love left in his empty chest.

He loves her. True love. And the angel loved him. He remembers every moment they shared, every touch, every kiss and embrace. His arms remember the weight of her body. She is free to live without these memories that bind him. Spotless and pure. He is shackled to them, fated to remember for eternity.

The endless fight between the love he remembers and the hate for all that she stands for. Endless tugging between wanting to cherish and desiring her destruction. This is the torment for his sins. That he must forever bring her ultimate ruin again and again. Each time he hopes it will be their last dance and each time at the end he sees himself in her grief. His reflection in her eyes show him how she despises him. He sees her remember each time before, remember it all.

And each time she rejects him again. His wounds freshly cut by the look she has for him. Each time he hopes she will find it in her to forgive him, and each time he is denied. Thus they dance again and again through the millennia. 

He watches her blow the candles out. Her sweet face glowing in the window. She pauses and looks straight at him. His blue eyes pierce the black night. Lightning strikes and he is seen. She gasps and snatches the curtains closed. 

The rain has soaked the hem of his blue pants. He had seen enough for tonight and he walks away.

The Devil

“And behold, others he flattereth away … and he saith unto them: I am no devil, for there is none—and thus he whispereth in their ears, until he grasps them with his awful chains, from whence there is no deliverance.”

Introduction Revised

The angel fell to the ground weeping. She was full of grief, of love, of loss. A sound escaped her lips like a wounded and dying animal. She was just that. The weight of her knowledge oppressed her mind and soul. She knew too much, of that she was sure.

His body lay crumpled in the tall grass next to where she fell. Red stains were spreading like fire blooming across his white shirt. He never wore white; she thought as she lay in the grass inches from him. The look on his face was burned into her mind. He looked so peaceful and happy. She clamped her eyes shut again and felt her chest shake and catch as the weight of the night air pressed upon her. She felt sure that she could not continue to breathe.

She heard the crunch of the devil’s shoes upon the railroad tracks. He was laughing in a soft but merry sort of way. Her back was to him but every cell in her body screamed at him. This was his fault… no… it was hers. Flashes of anger and sorrow hit her again pounding her like a storm and pulling her heart down into her stomach.

“Get up.” He commanded.

She ignored him and lay there staring at her love.

‘I command thee to get up.” He repeated.

She felt her body jerk and twist. “No!” she screamed at him. “I will not do thy bidding Devil!”

He threw his head back and laughed from deep in his belly.

“Oh my love. But you just did.” He smiled and stepped up to her. The devil picked her up by her shoulders and stood over her. He smelled of earth and fire. It was far from being unpleasant, a compelling fragrance that was as retched as he was. The cuff of his blue pants just touched the flesh of her love’s hand. A black stain spread from that spot and spread deep into his cold skin. She turned her head into the devil’s chest to keep from seeing it.

The devil smelled her hair and slid his hands down her arms from her shoulders to her wrists. He spun her around as a gentleman would while waltzing with a fine lady. His arm slipped around her waist as she heard the metal chains tinkle like tiny bells. It should be alarming her that he was slowly binding her hands and feet but with each caress of his hands she felt her emotions draining. It was as if her heart had died on the grass with her love’s and she had cried her life out with each tear. Now she stood an empty shell bound and about to be led off to hell.

“Ah my love. This is always my favorite part of our dance. These moments when you are whole again and know me. These moments when I touch you and you know that I own you. I love the smell of lavender on your skin and in your dark hair. How your eyes flash green with despair and sorrow. It’s a pity that we never get enough time to fully enjoy this.” He leaned in and pressed her lips with his. He lingered and left black smoke trails where he kissed her. 

‘You know what happens now. Hold out your hand angel and kiss me goodbye again.” He brought her hand palm up, tilted her chin and kissed her deeply. She whimpered and took one last glance at her love. She had to remember his face. She had to remember how she got here and what she did. The devil bends over her love and they are auddenly both gone.

The angel stands alone in a field near railroad tracks. A solitary figure standing in the moonlight in a thin nightgown. Her dark hair whips in the wind. Her hand is stretched out, palm up ready to receive.

The shock of lighting striking her hand is amazing. Her assignment is given to her. A mission she must not fail at. 

His face is burned into her sight. She gasps at the image. He seems so familiar yet she has no real memory of him. It's clear and crisp. This is the man she is supposed to save.

A shiver travels down her spine and she feels a dark chill. Darkness has touched this man and she has little time left. She runs to her black horse waiting by the wooden fence posts. She pats her bags checking the tethers holding them. Tightening her grip, she vaults into her saddle urging him into motion. This would be a long ride to find him.

Angel's Assignment

My first attempt at drawing, scanning and adding photoshop color/effects...

The Crone

I arrived in the little town of Salem and really had no idea where to start looking for him. I decided to start by finding shelter for the night. The people in this town didn’t seem overly friendly to strangers but once I started talking, people are naturally put at ease. They can’t see that I am not human, but they all feel the warmth and glow I give off. It’s a similar effect for most demons. They look human but you can feel a tingle up your spine and a chill in the room when they enter. Of coarse the really nasty ones delight in letting humans see them for what they are.

I was told where the inn was and found it easily enough. I tied my horse up to the rail and walked through the heavy wooden doors. As soon as I entered the room I felt him. He stood behind the counter arguing with a woman. She was yelling and cursing him while he stood patiently. I watched with much interest. He did not yell at her but firmly told her that his mind was made up and he was not coming home.

Ah ha… she was his wife. What an odd paid they made. She was thin and tired looking, like she hadn’t eaten in many days. The scowl on her face had etched lines into her forehead and creases around her eyes. Her eyes had no love for him. His eyes had only sadness and a tired look of resignation. I was so wrapped up in their faces and body language I didn’t actually hear what they were arguing about. Other than he had said he was not going home to her.

She turned towards me and pushed me aside to leave the inn. It was almost as if I didn’t exist to her until her skin touched my shoulder. Then as if she had been stung by a bee she turned her head and whipped her cold eyes upon me. She scanned me from head to toe with a sneer and a look of contempt. I stepped back from her in shock. She grunted at me with a huff of air and quickly left the inn. The ugly crone seemed to be human but there was something very dark in her soul.

Introducing the Crone

I haven't decided but I think she has pointy teeth. She's pure evil and out to the the dark man to kill himself so the devil can have his soul. 

Inspiration:

Plot lines

I have the whole plot laid out with 38 sections / chapters. I'm still toying with the graphic novel idea. It would  take at least 74 illustrations. Gonna be a ton of work. I need my computer with Photoshop to work again.

Angel's Assignment

I played with color tonight. 

Hmmm... I like how the angel turned out. Mostly. I need to work on her wings so they are more artistic. The sky was not what I wanted but it's ok because I figured out a lot by playing with the oil pastels. 

I had lightning but really hated that. So I gotta work on it. 

I love her hair though. Might be my favorite part! 

Page 1

The angel stands on the edge of a cliff waiting. She had been there for hours watching the churning sea below and praying. She feels the electricity thicken in the air. Her long dark hair lifts in the wind whipping her cheeks. 

She jumps to her feet and smiles. It was coming. The angel timidly extends her hand, palm up in the wind. The shock of lighting striking her is amazing. 

His face is burned into her sight. She gasps at the image. He seems so familiar yet she has no memory of him. It's clear and crisp. This is the man she is suppose to save. 

A shiver travels down her spine and she feels a dark chill. Darkness has touched this man and she has little time left. She runs to her black horse waiting by the wooden fence posts. She pats her bags checking the tethers holding them. Tightening her grip, she vaults. Into her saddle urging him into motion. This would be a long ride to him.

Sketching more

Graphic novel???

I have been wondering about the format of my book. I'm not sure it will be a novel, but naybe a graphic novel. I can sketch, but I am not a graphic artist. 

Maybe it should look like the angel's personal journal with her sketches in it. I think the art needs to be amazing though...

Here is my attempt at a page with sketches. I would love feedback! Feel free to comment below. 

A man touched by darkness asks an angel to pray with him. It takes nerve to ask this. Desperate pain threatens to burn him up. The angel is confused. He had just told her he was turning his back on her. Turning his back on the light.

Now he asks to pray?

The angel gently nods her head. That is why she was sent to him. 

The prayer

A man touched by darkness asks an angel to pray with him. It takes nerve to ask this. Desperate pain that threatens to burn him up. The angel is confused. He had just told her he was turning his back on her but now he asks to pray?

The angel quietly nods her head. That is why she was sent to him. 

They kneel on the bed with the sheets twisted under them. The room smells of sweat and tears. They hold hands and bow their heads. The dark man speaks.

As he prays she can feel her light spreading. She can feel her wings extend painfully from her shoulders and turn to wrap protectively to surround him. She can feel the darkness receding, retreating and growing thin. 

His words are begging for an answer. What to do? What to do? 

Amen

The angel said her own prayer in her mind for the dark man. And one for herself. Dear God is this why I was sent to him? How much of this pain can I take from him? The darkness is getting so hard to fight. 

She had traveled a thousand miles to a small town in the valley between the mountains to find him. It had been a journey of years but she had felt the tug and pull bringing her to him for as long as she could remember.

After the prayer, her white feathers are drained and ringed in grey. Their edges smolder from the exertion of will and light. 

The angel watches the dark man sleeping and she stands guard. This is what he needs now. Sleep and a moment of peace. She drifts off into her own dreams.

Her dreams are always in color. She remembers them too vividly. Her dreams have been so lovely for so long. She has dreamt of him forever. His smile lights up her heart and pushes the darkness that has touched him into the small corners hiding.

She wakes up and feels the light on her face. She smiles and basks in God's love, but the smile fades. The message sent was received and answered. The angels work is done. She must let him go. 

She turns confused. She watches him sleep in the morning light. When he sleeps he has the dark dreams but he looks so peaceful. It's the continuing duality of him. Let him go... How can it be? But the answer was clear. She must heal her wings and her heart. This errand to find him and return him was too hard and she got too close.

She examined her wings and sees the scars and charred edges. This damage will take a long time to heal. 

He wakes up scared and confused. He falls naked and collapses between the bed and the wall. She has work left to do before the day ends. 

The night before she had given him a secret map of how to return. It had images, landmarks and directions. He had read it back to her but she wasn't sure if he was on his own he would remember how to use the map. She prayed he would open it and follow it back some day.

She had others to tend to that were calling. The angel is torn and twisted. She was sent to him but was told to let him go. She had 2 others, small and frail that needed her light and love. She hesitated a moment then set into action. 

She made all the preparations. She helped lift the heavy traveling bags he had packed. He was supposed to have left the day before but they had one more stolen night. And now... Dawn broke into full daylight and they parted ways. It wasn't with gentle love or drawn out kisses. They were coming for him again and he wanted to draw them off away from the angel. She must not be found by them. All would be lost if she was taken.

The dark man leaves. He got the answer , the same message. A prayer answered in a way they never thought. The angel lies and tells him she felt his wings extend during the prayer. She wants to give him hers but she can't. They are broken and need to mend. 

The angel is told that others will take her post and watch over this man. He is important and needs the light to carry with him. 

The angel cries. 

Preface

We all make choices. Some take longer to choose than others. But in the end we all make our decision. Choices can be influenced by our history, out hopes or our fears. What you let sway your choice says a lot about your personal strength. 

I have had more than a few times in my life where grief grabbed me by my heart and threatened to shake my hold on reality. I clearly remember making the choice to be strong and hold tight to the fibers of this world. But just standing on the edge of the bottomless abyss and looking down is enough to touch your soul with that darkness. 

I have seen others face the darkness and take that step over the edge. Sometimes they threaten to pull you over with them. That is when you have to choose. Do you let go of that lifeline you held to them and let them go over alone? Do you turn your back an run as fast as hell away from the edge? Or do you go over too?

Not too many people want to admit that they have seen or felt the edge of reality. The ones that plunged headlong over it don't care anymore. Maybe there are some here that haven't seen the dark face of madness. If they exist they are truly the blessed. 

The first time I saw it, I was 13 years old. I watched my mother get closer and closer to the edge. I saw her get lost in madness not knowing what was real anymore. I could always pull her back. But this one night... or was it day? My memory is only being on the edge of the water at the beach. I can't remember if it was day or night but the memory feels like night time. 

I remember it was colder, the light was grayish. I stood with her at the edge of the water. We were fighting and yelling at each other. I said something very mean about her leaving my father. She yelled a terrible lie at me that took me years to get over. It's not the lie she told that is the most memorable. It's what followed. 

I turned from her quietly and walked to the water. I was wearing clothes and didn't care if they got wet. I felt like I was watching myself from outside my body. I just walked to the water up to my waist and stood in shock. I don't remember anything after that. I must have returned, talked to her... It's all gone now. 

The second time was the moment my father told me my mother tried to kill herself. I was holding a towel. I was about to hang it on the hook on the back of my door and again I saw myself like I was watching a movie and the lead character just received bad news. I dropped the towel on the floor like it was just too heavy to hold a moment longer. 

I remember the look on my father's face. He was scared. He must have dreaded that moment for 17 years then for hours as he waited for me to come home to tell me. I can not imagine it. It had to be horrible. 

I don't remember how we got to the hospital. Actually much of my life around and after that day is a blur. I know it's my mind's way of healing. Like scar tissue over a cut. It blurred the details and lost some of the ones that hurt too much. 

The hardest moment was right after she died. I was sent to the hospital chapel and I stood there looking at a stained glass window. Was it Jesus or a dove? I can see both in my memory. They were both there at once. Jesus and the Holy Ghost. I stood on the edge of the black hole that just swallowed her and I begged for someone to save me. 

That was when I made my choice. I chose to stay in this world and stay connected to it. I chose not to leave it. I chose to believe in a power greater than I was and to meekly submit, for just a small bit of respite from the pain. 

Our church teaches that all humans made a choice to follow heavenly fathers plan and thus we came to earth. That is only part of the truth. Humans have souls that haven't completely chosen yet. That's why the war wages on.

Angels are those that chose to fight for Heavenly Father and his plan. To defend it with our lives. To fight the darkness at every turn and to help the souls that haven't chosen yet find the path back to the father. 

Demons also made their choice. They fight for darkness. They whisper to the souls standing on the edge that it's easier to just jump and let the darkness take you. They tell pretty lies to deceive. 

Humans... well humans are all the souls that are still deciding. When the war in heaven broke out the two armies assembled. In the middle were the souls that didn't want to fight. The ones that didn't know what to do. Many had faith in the plan and Heavenly Father but also had some doubts. Doubt is the devil's wedge. 

whoso believes in Christ, doubting nothing, shall be granted whatsoever he asks: Morm. 9:21 

It's the doubt that takes the longest to fully erase. But once a choice has been made and there is no longer doubt, the soul is bound to it's choice. The question is, what if doubt returns? 

I made my choice the night she died. I chose the light and that's when I lost my humanity. I was set apart that night. I was given perfect wings of pure white feathers. Feathers made of light and illumination. Once doubt was gone, the light filled my soul. 

I was given my assignment that night. I knew I was chosen for something important. I held to my new found glory but still was timid in believing I could help fight the war. I grew stronger as the years passed. My light shone brighter. Once, I truly believed I had fulfilled my assignment and was ready to return to the father for rest. 

That's where our story begins. With the end of my assignment on earth. You know now that I am indeed an angel fighting for the father. That I was once human when my soul was still anyone's gain. I had faced the darkness and won. I just didn't know I was going to have to keep fighting the darkness for so long.