I watch the man laying limp and drained on the bed, the beeps of his machine fill the room with a dooming sound. It was a familiar sound for someone like me. I am an angel of death. That is right, I am death. No, there is not just one of us. There are many of us. And each of us specialize in our own areas. Some deal with the wicked, and they deal with the lost. Others, deal only with children. I am the angel of warriors. Those tainted by hardship or war, those with guilt thicker than the grand canyon. In my world, its probably the equivalent of a heart surgeon. Its the toughest area offered in my after life career. I deal with people who were shown the horrors of this world and it is my job to help them find the light within themselves. People talk of the light they see when their dying, they wouldn't be lying. But only those who are ready see that. They don't necessarily need an angel there, we just come so they are not alone through the process.
The ones I come to, their afraid of judgment, they feel unworthy of heaven and if I don't do my job, if I'm unable to help them. Then they get stuck here on earth, not belonging anywhere, or to anyone. There are many of those. They like to come and watch what I'm up to. They like to watch others process what they could not, others like to try and stop me from doing my job. It's a constant headache, but I leave the higher angels to handle the ones that create a problem. All I have to do is report them, and the higher angels come to where I am and remove them. No one has the right to interfere in another's journey, its not allowed. Not even by me. I cant make them see or feel anything, I cant make them believe their worthy. All I can do is guide them within themselves, show them how others view them and hope it is enough. Its a thankless job, but I never did it for a thanks. Bringing those who suffered to peace is thanks enough for me.
I was never a human, I never had a life on earth. I only know what I learn from each person I lead home or to hell. But humans fascinate me, I know I am not supposed to care, I'm not supposed to get attached, its just a job. But I have never been one to separate one from the other. That is just how I was created. Like humans, the commander in chief created his angels to be different from one another. I think I feel because it helps me do what I do better. I don't like to toot my own horn, pride is not something that matters to angels anyway, but I have never let one of mine get stuck. I don't fail. If I fail, all this soul has endured would be for not. They would never get the glory they fought so hard for. And I don't think i could stand for that for all eternity.
As I watched Ben drift into sleep, a weak smile on his face. I knew he thought of his wife when he smiled like that. I know everything about Benjamin Walker Sinclaire, age 94, born and raised in Syracuse, NY. He served five years at war in world war two, three in Europe and two years in the pacific. He was shot three separate times, but only reported one of them. He was lucky in the fact that there were exit wounds, but his sheer determination to stay with his friends, to fight in the cold or in the heat when his body ached with pain, shook me to my core. Even I respect this man. Its hard for me to understand why he does not respect himself. He felt guilt every time he took a life. He never bragged or called them names. Not even when they killed one of his own. He would pray in secrete in those long lonely nights away from home, not for himself or his own care, but that of those around him, to keep them safe, to send them home. If you could have seen the solider this man was, a thank you would never suffice for what he had done. His own platoon looked to him as their role model, his superiors always took his word as solid fact. He took his time to make sure things were being done the best way possible. He never panicked or stressed. It was witnessing a pure miracle to see a man in the worst situation, bodies falling all around him, incoming fire landing inches from him, and his hands didn't shake, he didn't freeze in fear. He got low, as others ducked for cover, he pushed forward, and because they saw him, they set their fear aside and followed. He was made for war, he was made to harbor it. He thinks he was a lost man. But he was never lost. God adored him, he often looked down on what he was doing. I could tell even he was amazed at the man. That is how he is with everyone at some point in their lives. He gives you a box with tools in it, what you build is up to you. So he watches in wonder as we do. And Ben, he is one of the favorites. I knew I would get him on my docket and I paid attention to him. He is special to me. Not just because he is the one man that never failed to be selfless, not even when he was a drunk, he still made sure his family had before he took. Ben will be my last death passenger. He is the last man on my docket. My duties as death will be complete upon his entrance to judgment. Once he is heard and ruled, I will begin the next aspect of my calling. Like humans, we have many jobs in our lifetime. You don't want to get bored with eternity, so every once in awhile a change happens. Its important to have fresh eyes, its the commanders favorite motto in his work. There is always a new perspective, a new beginning.
I only had a few more days until his body would give out. He was at peace, but still clinging to his body. Sometimes, their own will delays the process, sometimes it speeds it up. But when they did was on their own terms and they couldn't see me until they took their last breath. No one sees death before they go to judgment. You can die and be brought back, but you will not see me or any of the other death angels until you meet your true death. The one no one ever wakes up from again. He would fight until the last second, Its just the kind of man he is. His wife Margret was someone I had witnessed in watching Ben, but I am not to know anything about her process. However, I know that the moment she died, Ben was holding her hand and he felt the life slide out of her. I saw her walk to her angel, and then she was gone from the both of us. I did make sure she was not stuck here. She never stood a chance at that, she was a strong women of faith. She had no fear when her time came, and despite what he thinks of himself, Ben will not be afraid either. Fear has no real consequence to him. He only uses it as a tool, without ever giving in. Its actually quite amazing. So I would sit here, with his slow weak breaths and the endless beating, until his heart went still. Ben was fighting, hoping even at his age. That thought alone made me smile. I was glad he would be my last. Who could ever top him?
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