Answering the Call – Part 3
So, yesterday I dropped a huge theological what-if bombshell. I’m going to spend most of today elaborating the world Joseph Brindle has been thrust into. It’s fun to have a character entertain Faustian bargains. They open up so many potential avenues for writing and story development, not to mention a chance to give my own spin on theological concepts.
As far as writing the character of Joseph Brindle, I’m still working on who he is as a man. It’s hard for me to sometimes place myself in the shoes of my characters, and I haven’t quite gotten his reactions consistent with his personality. It’s going to be important, because Joseph Brindle is going to find himself in quite the pickle, courtesy of his new “benefactor” Azazel.
Azazel himself was also fun to create. I enjoyed very much taking a look at some of the theological demonic hierarchies while researching for yesterday’s writing. Honestly, theology is an endlessly fascinating subject, and one I could very easily spend the rest of my life learning about. All the different religions of the world have such disparate beliefs, and yet some incredibly striking similarities. I’m honestly reminded at times of the wonderful writing of Neil Gaiman for “American Gods.” It’s an incredible read if you’ve the inclination, not family friendly in the least, so bear that in mind before you crack it open.
All in all, I’m very pleased with how everything is developing. I did go ahead and begin referencing to Hell, the place, rather than it’s usage as a swear word. It felt a little strange to refer to it by another name, and sometimes you have to call a place by its name just to keep your own sanity as you write about it. The pacing so far is very consistent. The call and internal response style of writing is a bit simplistic, but it will become more subtle and smooth as time goes by. For now, it’s where my writing is at, and I’m the furthest thing from ashamed for being where I am. It’s been so incredibly fun to channel my imagination for a change, rather than just randomly being whisked away by it at inconvenient times. Good stuff.
Ladies and gentlemen, the next gripping chapter in Answering the Call..
Answering the Call – Part 3
It’s hard for me to remember, here in this moment, that less than 30 minutes ago I had been just your average moderately successful CPA moving into his own small downtown office building. I hadn’t even had a chance to unpack my new desk plaque. “Joseph P. Brindle CPA, CEO of Brindle Accounting” it read in shiny golden lettering as it lay somewhere at the bottom of the box on my desk. Now? A deeply crimson skinned, honest to goodness Demon sat across my lovely new handmade mahogany desk, wearing an expensive gray suit complete with stereotypical demon tail slowly lashing back and forth. Azazel was its name, so it had told me, and it had also just told me something that was equally chilling. Apparently, Satan hadn’t been alive in a long, long time.
“What do you mean, he’s been dead since the dawn of Creation? You’re the most cliche demon I could imagine, surely you came from Hell?” I stated with consternation as I tried to change my worldview to fit all the information that had torn so many holes in what it had been. “Mr. Brindle” Azazel continued with icy annoyance “I will remind you that I am here to make you an offer. It behooves you to curb your continuing insults until after the bargain has been struck.” It huffed in annoyance, and seemed once more to relax a little. “As this bargain will mean that we will be working very closely together, I suppose it does not hurt for me to make sure you understand the “Why” behind your offer.” That isn’t ominous or anything. I thought as I swallowed my retort.
“Mr. Brindle, I assure you, Hell is a very real place, one which all demons call home. And yes, before you ask, we very much detest humanity. You’ve no idea what you cost the hosts of Hell, and we will torment as many of you as we can get our hands on for as long as we exist.” It paused, gathering itself as if to say something necessary but painful. “Be that as it may, Hell exists precisely because we lost, Mr. Brindle. At the start of Creation, when all the plans for the Universe were laid before the hosts of Heaven, Satan objected to the role the Angelic Tribes were to play. You see, Satan correctly pointed out that we were gods first sons and daughters, and that we would never love anyone or anything as much as we did him. The debate raged for eons, each side gathering supporters until the Heavens were divided into two camps.” A brief pause, crimson hand on chin, as if deciding where to go next.
“Satan was the second brightest star in all the firmament. Second only to the Father, equal to the Son. None were even remotely on their level. When Satan could no longer stand the course the Plan laid out, he revolted against the Son. The battle was beyond anything I could ever describe to you. Whole sections of creation were lost, entire tribes of Angels destroyed in the titanic struggle. Eventually, the traitor Gabriel showed his true colors, and betrayed Satan’s last hope to the Father and the Son. It would’ve worked too.” An anger beyond anything human smoldered behind the black irises in that crimson face, and I quickly averted my eyes to avoid bearing any part of that hatred. “Forewarned of Satan’s plans, and with his second in command under the banner of the enemy, Satan’s time had come. He took to the Fields of Woe with everything he had. Eventually, the hosts of Heaven were able to overwhelm him, and he was struck down by the hands of the angel who had once promised to follow him to the ends of existence.” Azazel then did something most disquieting; it began shedding tears.
“The Morningstar fell through existence, slowly dying of the wounds inflicted by his blood-brother. All of us who had taken the field that day fell with him. At the last, Satan gathered us all to him, and used his power and body to shield us from the impact as we slammed into the dimension which would become our home. Not even the second most powerful being in creation could protect us all and survive such an impact.” Now it was Azazel’s turn to look away and gather itself. A pang of sympathy flashed across my mind as I saw it’s obvious pain. I quickly squashed it. From the looks of things, I was about to be offered a choice between death or my soul by this creature. Sympathy wasn’t a luxury I could afford in this transaction.
Azazel found whatever it needed to continue with the narration “When I told you Satan doesn’t rule Hell in the same fashion that the Earth doesn’t rule humanity Mr. Brindle, I meant that because Satan is Hell. Satan’s impact into the bottom most dimension of Creation destroyed his body, and all of those who fell with him live within his shattered remains.” I sat back, stunned at the story. I could almost imagine the vistas of Azazel’s description, the utter destruction of Satan’s impact, the twisted remains forming what would become Hell. The images my mind conjured had the same horrifying magnetism found in staring at a train wreck. I couldn’t seem to pull my mind from it. Thankfully, Azazel did that for me. “Which brings me back to the matter at hand Mr. Brindle. I’m here because I wish to hire you for a job. I need you to kill several of my escaped comrades.”
I looked at Azazel, poleaxed. “You need me to do what?” “Mr. Brindle” Azazel chided me “do not insult either of our intelligence. You know perfectly well what I just told you. I’m here because you are uniquely suited for the job. Quite simply Mr. Brindle, you’ll accept my employment offer because you don’t have any choice.” That was news! I hurriedly sat forward and leaned across my desk “Wanna run that by me again?” I stated in cold anger. Nobody, demon or otherwise, tells me what I have a choice in. “Mr. Brindle, I did not stutter. You will accept my deal. You see, I have something which you will be very interested in acquiring, and I am the only one in a position to offer it to you.” Azazel gamely stated to me, completely unperturbed by my looming presence. I snorted as I sat back, and bit off “What makes you say that?” It wasn’t a smile that split Azazel’s face from ear to pointed ear; it was the look a shark would have before it takes a huge bite out of something. “Because Mr. Brindle, I own your soul.”
To be continued…
Sharkfully,
Justin
