The Demon, the Sinner, and the Intercessors

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Roger Carver, 35, living life to the fullest, and in for one hell of a wake up call, and a long wait to be reunited with the person he cares for most.

Submitted: May 30, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 30, 2013



 A man in a dark suit leaned against a building, not to far away from a four way stop. He exhaled a large puff of cigarette smoke as a car sped down one street, and straight into another car, going the opposite direction. He smiled, almost wickedly, as a bystander near by quickly fussed to grab their cell phone.

The man flicked his cigarette at the two cars, lighting a small fire. The hospital wasn't to far away, so the small fire that had been lit by the cigarette would only do the amount of damage intended at that given time.

A tall man wearing a red plaid shirt walked out of the wreck. He was swearing violently, and as discretion to any of the more fairer readers, I shall not document exactly what he said. He rubbed his light brown hair as if it were still on fire, which, with him now being a ghost, it was not.

The other man pushed off the building, “Roger James Carver, 35 years old, youngest of two, not married, though you have had several girlfriends and even more one night stands.”

Roger looked at the man, now very confused, “Who are you?”

“Oh no one of particular importance,” The man in the dark suit replied, “I'm just here to take you to your final destination.”

“Final destination?” Roger tilted his head, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

The man in the dark suit pointed to the car wreck behind them, the ambulance had arrived and was now taking Roger's mangled and burned body from the wreckage, the ghost stared in horror.

“Is that-?”


“So I'm-?”


Roger turned, “And you're-?”

“Not an angel.”

“Oh...” The ghost seemed to shrink from the demon.

The demon smiled, “I always love it when the realization sets in.” He snarked, “But enough dilly dallying, you've got a place to be Mr. Carver. And it won't be fun for yo-”

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” A blinding light appeared next to the demon, causing it to flinch away, Roger just stared, like a moth attracted to a flame.

“Nooooo!” The demon moaned, “Come on! You can't be bloody serious!”

The angel cracked their neck slightly, “Never get used to last minute flying...” The celestial being sighed, then changed to a very formal stance, “Roger Carver, I am here to inform you,” The angel shot an almost-glare at the demon, “and your former guide to your destination,” Back to Roger, “That someone has interceded on your behalf.”

The demon stuck his tongue out at the angel, “Always being interceded for, at this rate I'll never reach my quota!”

“Goody for humankind then.” The angel held out their hand to Roger, “Come, we have a stop to make before you go where you shall wait out the rest of your sins.”

“Wait out the rest of my sins..?”

The angel laughed slightly, “You didn't think you would get a free pass to Heaven with all your wrong-doings did you? No, there were only two in Heaven who cared enough to intercede on your behalf.”

The demon rolled it's eyes in disgust, “I'm out.” He snapped his fingers and was gone.

“Who?” Roger asked.

“Take my hand and you shall see.”

Roger slowly took the angel's hand, and found himself on a different plane.

This plane was very much reminiscent to a young girl's bedroom. Bright blue paint covered the walls, broken only by indoor rock climbing rocks. There were toys scattered through the room, but clear paths had been made, so one would know where to step, even in the dark, but it never got dark here, not unless it was wished for. The bed in the room was not a large ornate bed, but rather a small bed, big enough for a young girl and her stuffed animals.

The owner of this room ran through the door on the far side, latching herself to Roger. “Daddy!” she cried happily.

Roger looked at the angel, startled by this young girl who apparently thought he was her father. “What's going on?”

“This,” The angel said, kneeling down to pat the young child's head, “Is Rachel Jones, daughter of Samantha Jones.”

“Sammy?” Roger stared down at the girl, now seeing the resemblance. Rachel shared his blue eyes, and had Samantha's round face, as well as her dirty blond hair. “But... I never... We never...Wait... No.....”

He recalled when he and Samantha had been together. They were happy, it wasn't just a hook-up, Roger and Samantha were a nearly perfect couple, laughing and kissing, an image of pure happiness. But there was one this that brought it all to a halt, it was one party, they had both gotten drunk and fooled around. A few weeks later, Sammy told him the 'good news'. He wasn't ready to be a father, so he had told Sammy to do what many others had done.

At first she wouldn't have it. “Life was precious and meant to be created and lived.” She had defended, but after many fights she finally agreed. It had seemed so innocent at the time. One procedure, and they would be back on track, but he hadn't noticed how weak she was getting. He never realized that she couldn't have possibly survived. And when it came time... He lost not only his precious Samantha, but the child she had been carrying as well.

He took in a breath, “Does that mean...?”

“Hello, Roger.”

The ghost of a man looked up to the door way and saw a woman, one he hadn't seen in a long time. She looked almost exactly the same as she had at prom. Her long dirty blond hair, done up in a bun, a rouge on her cheeks, a nice workable blue dress covering her ghostly form.

Samantha joined her daughter in hugging the husband she might've had had she not gone into that dreary building on that similarly dreary day. “I'm sorry we couldn't do more for you, Roger.”

Roger shook his head, shocked at this turn of events, he hugged them close. “It's... It's alright...”

The angel stood up, “Roger, you have somewhere to be.”

Rachel let go, turning to the angel, “Azri! Just a few more minute!”

Azrael smiled at Rachel, “You'll see him again, dear one, do not worry.”

The small girl pouted before smiling again, “Okay!” Rachel turned back to Roger, “I can't wait until I see you again daddy!”

Samantha let go as well, she smiled softly, “We'll be waiting, just don't forget us.”

“H... How could I?” Roger asked, reaching out for his family one last time before Azrael touched his shoulder.

Suddenly, Roger and Azrael were in a different room, this one much less decorative than the other. It looked like a doctor's waiting room, only the posters that had tips on staying healthy were replaced with sayings such as, “Don't worry, it's only a few years.” and “They're waiting for you, just like you're waiting for them.”

Azrael gave a thoughtful sigh, “Your Purgatory is by far more snarky than most.”

Roger looked around, his arm dropped sadly to his side, “Seems about right...” He said dryly.

“Well, I'll leave you to your waiting.” The angel disappeared.

Roger didn't even bother sitting in one of the many seats. He simply collapsed against the wall, over come with emotion. After everything he'd done, all the beer, women, and cussing, Samantha still loved and believed in him. Rachel, his daughter, the one he never knew he truly wanted until he lost both her and her mother, loved him, even though it was his fault she never got a chance to live.

He cried. For the first time since Samantha's death so very long ago, he cried.

© Copyright 2020 minimandy910. All rights reserved.

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