Afterlife: A Fall of Angels Novelette by Keary Taylor

Author:Keary Taylor
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: K&T Publishing
Published: 2011-11-08T06:00:00+00:00

"Midway upon the journey of our life,

I found myself within a forest dark,

For the straight foreward pathway had been lost."

-Canto I, Inferno, Dante

The score was even. In this game where the other team wasn’t even aware it was playing, Cole had settled the score. The game was about to end and Jeremiah was going to learn just how many points Cole had beaten him by.

The final straw had been when Jeremiah dared try to murder Jessica at her own wedding.

Even with Cole’s twisted side he knew Jessica deserved that day, after all he and his kind had put her through.

And so Cole had taken the one thing in this life Jeremiah still cared about.

Feeling the familiar pull within him, Cole knew it was almost time. The council was being called for trial.

Everyone’s time had run out.

Settling into his seat, an evil smile curled on Cole’s face. As Jeremiah settled next to him, Cole felt the stir of victory grow within his chest. A man was brought to stand before them, his name read.

Cole heard Jeremiah half gasp, half choke.

“Grandpa?” Jeremiah whispered so quietly only Cole could hear him.

The old man stood on the catwalk, his face covered, his hands bound. The old man from the rest home.

“Please,” he started to cry. “It wasn’t time. I told them there was something wrong with my medication. I didn’t… I didn’t get to say good-bye.”

But it was too late for reasoning. The man was dead.

The leader of the exalted started the trial and soon the deeds of this man’s life were being rattled off.

Jeremiah squirmed in his seat, his fingers threatening to crush the stones beneath his hands.

There was nothing quite like the satisfaction of revenge.

Grandpa was soon tried and unlike his posterity, was granted blue eyes and escorted to the above.

Jeremiah sat very still with two of his fingers pressed to his lips as they waited for the next poor soul to be brought before them.

The next man was brought before the council. Cole couldn’t help the glee that shone in his eyes.

His timing had been perfect.

“Uncle Harold?” Jeremiah breathed, disbelief filling his voice.

Uncle Harold wasn’t so lucky as Grandpa.

With Jeremiah still reeling in his seat, Cole leapt from his own and accepted the branding iron.

Never before had a branding felt so satisfying as he pressed the hot metal into Uncle Harold’s neck. The man screamed, begging for mercy. His fingers clawed at the stones beneath him. As Cole pulled the iron away, the man collapsed onto the ground.

As his followers around him leapt to the catwalk to drag Harold to the below, Cole turned to Jeremiah, meeting his eyes.

The look of realization started growing in Jeremiah’s face.

Once the walkway cleared, Cole returned the iron and flew back to his seat.

Jeremiah didn’t say a word, just stared at the stones of the catwalk. Cole sat silently, relishing in the sweet feeling of justice.

Harold was followed by close friend Tom, followed by former co-worker Di. Followed by second-cousin Catherine.

“What have you done?” Jeremiah finally breathed, his voice sounding on the verge of cracking.

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