Then Michael Came and Other Stories

Then Michael came. Yes, the angel. He was simply there, standing in front of a group of other angels, all of them wearing white flowing gowns with golden armour over their chests – just the way you would expect angels to be. He, Michael, was clearly the leader here, and yet he somehow looked more human and less heavenly than the rest-there must have been about 6 to 12 other angels behind him. That otherworldly aura and gleam was less pronounced with him, but it was clearly there. He just looked more detailed; he stood out. Come to think of it, I guess that was why he could easily be referred to as the leader; that, and the fact that he stood in front of them and exuded authority.

I never saw them fly in or appear into the scene, they were simply just there all of a sudden. In what seemed to be a rather tight rectangular shaped clearing – sort of like an elevator space. Their wings were not clearly visible but there was the implied knowledge of their presence; it was obvious the wings were there, latch on their backs, almost transparent, almost invisible. Michael had short hair, was clearly handsome but managed that with ordinary features and a plain looking face. I even noticed a freckle or 2 – none of these human blemishes could be seen on the others. Yet, he was clearly their leader, with his short auburn hair and slightly freckled face. Just as I realized he was Michael without knowing how I knew, I realized he was more human looking perhaps by choice, or perhaps as a reflection of his love of God extending to the love of his children -man. As it is known, we try to imitate and sometimes look like those we love. It could also have been because of his obvious hardwork and diligence as he continuously and endlessly engaged in battles for his Father and His children. It could also be because he was humbled by being chosen by the Father for such responsibility and his humility was so great, it permeated his spiritual form, making him appear simple and kind and approachable when seen by human eyes. It could be any of these reasons that he appeared more human, but just as I knew he was Michael, I just knew as well that It was all of these reasons – not just one – and perhaps more. The spirit realm is guided by rules not yet understood by man and I knew I could only guess as to all the elements that contributed to my vision of the angels.

And just as suddenly as they appeared, they began to disperse. Michael’s mission was clear to him, as it was to me. He was going to address the opposing leader here, the head of the cult, for the unconscionable violence, torment and despair he had wrought on the people here.

And suddenly he was with the cult leader, alone, speaking directly and clearly. His authority was apparent and implied. He was saying words in the line of, “ …Enough… “ and “… No longer tolerated…”, and while the cult leader tried to put on a bold face, he was clearly frightened by the presence before him. For he knew that for Michael to be here, it really was enough and he could proceed no further with his evil. But he was annoyed. Oh, so annoyed. How dare this pretty boy come to his space and stop him. He ruled over the denizens here, the beasts, sinful, stupid humans, the transformed – humans turned beasts - and even the weather. He had been given power by his lord over everyone and everything here. Besides, he wasn’t the only one who was performing his duties here, he clearly remembered soaring through the skies one dark afternoon and seeing a transformed father devour his family after hours of torture. It was so pleasurable to him, he actually time took out of his busy schedule to watch as the father, infected with the virus after being bitten by a dog beast soon after he left their hideout in search of food, stabbed his wife and drank… It really is too horrible for me to recount. But for him, he chuckled under his breath even now as he remembered the scene…stupid, petty humans, he thought, as though he wasn’t one of us just a few years ago.

As though reading his mind, Michael shot the cult leader a stern look, making him freeze in fright and shock. Michael just as suddenly turned away, his look softening in a mixture of sadness and pity, he looked beautiful then, his hair longer and bright bronze, his face had obviously changed. Without notice, perhaps even by him, Michael looked more like his subordinate angels – face smoother and unblemished, hair to his shoulder and browner than black and eyes an unearthly and wonderful colour. He was truly beautiful and looked even more so as he reflected a deep sadness – thus supporting my theory that an angel of his calibre probably looked like they felt, a soldier when ready for conflict, a harmless saint when sad and crestfallen. Michael was sad not only for the people he came to relieve but also for the cult leader, for he was once human and is a child of the Father, whom he loves. He knew how deeply the Father loved each and everyone of His children and was heartbroken on how one could be so lost, perhaps never to be found again. But he was a soldier, and just as if it was never there, his softness was replaced by sternness and his features strengthened and became sharper, his hair ever slightly shorter and blacker. He said more in the way of “Final warning” and “Enough” and “Watching” before his wings became opaquer and more visible and with barely a clap, he was gone.

Even cult leader noticed the emptiness brought upon by Michael’s sudden absence and for just a fraction of a millisecond, he pondered on what he had lost. But it was only a fraction and he was subsequently filled with revulsion and hatred for the being that just left him with threats and went off with a light display. What petty tricks, he had real power. See what he had done. For his followers, he had performed miracles, even cured cancer. He had felt the force leave him and Madame Francois stood up and knelt before him and worshipped him – exclaiming she felt no more pain, she was cured. Yes, he was powerful, he could even fly. His lord called it some new form of technology only given to cult leaders of his calibre. He was beyond cars now. He could just take off. He only needed to hum… Anyway, so why did he feel that brief moment of regret and loss. It was the time for the intelligentia to rule, those who opposed Him. He had chosen the right side. He now had so much power, was richer than ever, had immortality, and was even visited by angels every other decade – so this was not a surprise. He had prided himself in his hard work and diligence in performing his duties and punishing opposition: transforming them, torturing them and converting them. His success had seen him rise through the ranks and receive the technology enhancements of flight and immortality. Yes, he was powerful. So powerful that a high calibre angel paid him a visit. Perhaps, he should work even harder. But just as the thought crossed his mind, the absolute fright he got from the angel’s stern glance resurfaced. He knew he would have to take a few years off and reduce the punishments. He had no choice. Even his lord feared angels of that calibre. And was it pity he saw from him? What nonsense, it couldn’t be, for he was so powerful.

In spite of the era it was, the Love of the Father was so much that He sent His angels to relieve those who stood in belief in Him. No, they were not visible to them, but they felt these beings whisper to their souls a song of hope and perseverance. Perhaps, that is why they had held out for so long. It had been many decades since the End, and Grace had left the world, so the children left behind could no longer directly reach the Father. Michael joined the others spread throughout the world, standing by the children’s sides and whispering words of hope. They would soon leave, as in this era, they should stay no further than said. Suddenly, he smiled, the torture had gone too far in one instance several thousands of miles away, and the body of the tortured had given its life, freeing the soul – a soul which had been freed in Faith. A tear ran down Michael’s cheek as he smiled, “One comes home with us today…One comes home.” He whispered further words of hope to the sleeping, hungry child hiding out in the city sewers; raised his head, looked left and then right, and nodded, giving his approval for all to leave. And just like that, all the helpers the world over left abruptly, and the world seemed a dimmer and gloomier place at their departure.

As the helpers moved through the stars, Michael praised the Father. One comes home with us.