Good Friday

They can’t stand to watch. Uriel has to look away, and Gabriel watches with silent tears at the horrors of torture for hours. He makes them stay away, citing uneasiness and orders from Father; Michael shakes with anger and clouds build in the sky. They wait for the command to swoop down and carry Him away–nothing comes. No orders from Heaven, no command from the One they would die to serve, nothing. They are left to watch in anger and horror and sorrow.

The moment He finally succumbs to death, takes his last breath, time stands still. They all freeze as the earth shakes; the sky grows dark, as if the sun had eclipsed.

“I did not cause it,” Michael says, his voice hushed and breaking.

Gabriel trembles softly, murmuring under his breath, as Michael continues, “Why were we not called? Why were we left to stand aside? We could have stopped all this before it even began.”

“Because this was meant to happen,” Gabriel says in a whisper. “This is what we were not meant to interfere with. It was His choice.”

Far away, the fallen stand to watch.

Jophiel laughs rather nastily, her eyes gleaming. “Lucifer, don’t you understand? We’ve won. He is gone, and we are free to do as we please. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Lucifer turns and gazes down to the tomb where they have buried Him, to where they have rolled the stone to over the entrance. “Something tells me this is not over. Do you not feel the power here?” He gestures down to those gathered wailing and mourning. “They do not know it, but something is coming. I can feel it.”

She looks away from him, as if she can feel it too but does not wish to admit it.

Lucifer feels no joy in this hollow victory. He does not know what comes next, what could possibly remedy this death, but he does not want to stay behind to find out. “Come,” he says. “We should go while the others linger here.”

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