30/XXX. Through My Disappointments (Remastered)
The next memory flashed before his eyes.
Greg Hughes, a Welsh native, one of the most famous head chef in the inner city London, participated in the TV show.
The clone checked out his apartment downtown and there’s nothing noticeable, and then Michael headed down to his five-star restaurant that only opens from eleven in the morning up to four in the evening.
Glamorous, completely opposite from his simple studio apartment, the restaurant was filled with glittered covered chandeliers, exquisite and rare sea creatures, and several small sharks in his wall-sized aquarium.
The establishment closed hours ago, but there’s light in the kitchen, the light that reflected from the kitchen gave the chandeliers glitter.
The angel heard the dancing of the silverwares, the collisions of each pots, and the sizzle of the meat underneath pressure and heat.
Michael carefully maneuvered around the tables as he enjoyed the static of the carpet against his armored feet.
He phased through the kitchen doors and failed to see the chef.
In the midst of the kitchen were cooked hamburger, fries, a camera, a burning stove, and on the countertop, different varieties of herbs and spices, and as he walked around the countertop.
A very cold, stiffening corpse lie awaits just next to the burning stove.
Just lying, waiting for someone to discover.
The angel wanted to find other clues as to how this guy operates, as he was the most probable suspect since he was an expert on herbs and spices and their effects, tastes, and smells.
“Captain! You’re here!” Michael turned around, it wasn’t that long since someone called him captain from the other side.
The voice sounded familiar, a soft, warm, gentle, and inviting hum of the vocal chords, one of he heard at the congregational praises in Heaven.
“Zmanel!” Zmanel awkwardly smiled as he was collecting the fragments of souls of the deceased in the spiritual realm.
“What happened?” He glanced at the light orbs that the angel was holding in his hands.
He wanted to hug him as much as possible. He wanted to at least feel the emotions he had when he went to Heaven.
Zmanel no longer fears him compared to before, and the Captain badly wanted to bond with the first angel he met after being sent to live on Earth as a human.
“I… uhm… materialized and kinda tasted his… food?” Those words kind of reminded Michael of the days that both him and Samael were a bit jealous of the first humans – Adam and Eve.
“Then?” Michael knew he wasn’t telling the whole story, and raised his right eye brow in curiosity.
“I should’ve collected this soul three hours ago, but…”
“But?” There it is - one fragment on his left side, and one on his right side.
“Aren’t you being a bit too careless with your work?” Michael’s quick remarks send a chilling shake to Zmanel’s spine.
“I—I… uhm… his food was really tasty at the time…” He stuttered answering the Captain.
His words sounded more endearing than chastisement.
“Just collect it fast, I don’t want any demon to be attached to its regrets.” Michael only sighed as his eyes averted around the kitchen.
He materialized in the physical realm, but remained invisible to the human eye and electronic devices.
He wanted to use the power of the Oracle to see the past and began touching the surfaces of the kitchen.
Fragments of his soul and his memories popped up in Michael’s head. As he gently slithered his fingers on the greasy counters – he saw Greg’s hard work throughout the years.
A dedicated man, a righteous one, one in a kind – Michael halted his steps and turned his eyes to the cold lifeless body of the man.
All his eyes could see in those memories are his smiles, preparing food for his customers, treating his staff fairly, and experimenting happily on new recipes alone late at night.
“What is it, brother?” Zmanel appeared to be intrigued as well along seeing the puzzled expression of Michael.
He curled his brows and darted his eyes from to and fro. He’s trying to make sense of the memories and how he garnered that criminal record.
“There’s something wrong…” He pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, and ran his fingers to his right temple.
“You… seemed distressed.” Zmanel manifested in the physical realm, and of course, through his original form of a ray of light.
“What is it?” He pressed Michael with his questions, wondering what perturbed the Captain in this man’s memories.
Michael’s eyes continued to be erratic, looking back and forth from the kitchen to the body and finally turned to Zmanel at the corner of the room.
“You collected all of his soul’s fragments?” He asked, still has his brows curled, and clearly annoyed by something that Zmanel do not have any slightest idea of.
As puzzled as he was, he knew pressing Michael further may mean inviting his wrath out.
“Yes, all of them.” Zmanel responded quickly, still left wondering what’s wrong with Michael.
“Did you see any regrets or blackened fragment?” Regret? He asked himself, and remembering the fragments just now, he answered him quickly.
“Now that you have mentioned it, I don’t… I don’t think I had any of that.”
“When Abram got dragged into the spiritual realm, his soul was like the sun, shining with glory, a little larger than these fragments, but… if we combined these together, they’re almost at the same size.” Michael marched towards Zmanel and held out both of his hands.
Zmanel and Michael gathered the fragments centered in their hands and lo, and behold, the soul of Greg manifested.
“Let me check something in the other realm.” Michael phased back to the spiritual realm while holding the complete soul of the human.
A little beige, a little grey, there were little regrets, not blackish memories – one where he regrets not going after the girl he admires, one where he regrets not adopting that child, one where he regrets not taking care of himself more.
No more – a life filled with happiness, splendor, righteousness, and integrity, how did he come across a rape case?
As the two angels conversed and rifled through the memories of the soul, Greg’s consciousness woke up and found himself in a strange dimension, where everything was almost the same, but… feels different.
“Where am I?” He thought to himself, observing the vast skyline of London.
“This city seemed lifeless, and this place is familiar, I’m at the rooftop of my restaurant! What about my creation? I was… eating, and then there was a sharp pain…”
The lights that illuminated the city were non-existent in the spiritual realm, which is a direct replica of the physical realm, only the angels, demons, spirit of God, and souls have access to this side of the coin, and since Greg has died, his soul can freely roam the spiritual realm without any restrictions.
“What is this place? No lights, no people walking, no… where…” As the soul became aware of his situation, he faintly heard the sounds coming from the mouth of the two angels not far from him.
As he turned around, two giant of towering glory stood before him.
It’s as if he will go blind if he directly looked at them with his physical eyes.
Then-
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The shrieking echo of Greg’s shout got the attention of the two angels.
“His consciousness awakened.” One angel opened his mouth. He can hear them, but it sounded gibberish, he can see them, but they’re too bright, he can sense their presence, but it’s too strong.
Michael approached the soul’s consciousness and as he stepped forward towards the soul, he compressed his aura, and his glory into a smaller being.
A bright light has approached the soul cautiously.
“Greg Hughes, dyna'ch enw chi, iawn?” The bright being talked to him in Welsh and surprisingly, he understood the angel.
[Translation: Greg Hughes, that’s your name, right?]
“Ydy, mae'n I.” He responded, still confused about the whole situation, he was just relieved that someone spoke his language.
[Translation: Yes, it is I.]
Michael breath in deeply and roared in the spiritual realm, “TRANSLATION!” As he breathed out, a white smoke came out of his mouth with writings in neon lights.
The words that came out of the angel’s mouth became comprehensible to the dead soul and vice versa.
“What the heck is that?” The soul started speaking in English.
He was taken aback by the power of the creature that exudes warm light.
“Greg, I’m so sorry to tell you, but you are already dead.” Michael’s words confirmed what Greg already knew and deduced.
He was not a bit surprised about the dead part, but as he glanced around him, he wished and can only pray that this is not the afterlife that he dreamed of when he was still alive.
“Is this the afterlife?” He shyly asked.
“No, but this is the spiritual realm. I am Michael, and this is Zmanel, and he is here to deliver you to your rightful place.” Zmanel just waved at the soul from behind Michael as he searched his memories.
The light appeared to be truthful, at least that’s what Greg was feeling about his words, but he wondered in curiosity about his choice words.
“Then, what about you?” The glowing creature seemed to tilt his neck in wander.
“You’re quite smart and calm, for a dead man.” Michael began to draw the line. For a soul to be asking questions even after death was pointless, that’s what Michael was thinking that time.
“You haven’t answered my question.” Greg retorted.
Michael let a quick sigh, almost like smirking, “I need answers.”
“Whatever do you mean, I’ll make sure to help you find your answers to the best of my knowledge.” The soul drew near, his voice full of determination.
No, that was telepathy.
“I have no mouth, but I can talk, I have no eyes, but I can see, I have no ear, but I can hear you, and I know a person if he is lying to me or not, and I don’t feel that with you.” He knew that this wasn’t just a dream.
“I’m trying to track down a criminal, and your case is in one of the files. I’ve already dug into your memories, but I never found something that would connect you to the rape case that you’ve had fifteen years ago.” Michael started questioning Greg, the soul stepped back, appearing to lose his bravado earlier.
“I…” The sudden change in emotions obviously appeared visually with Oracle of Michael.
The Captain was losing his patience with the deceased soul. It was time consuming looking through his memories.
“You’re hesitating. You need to tell me the truth, or I’ll have no choice but to pull it out of you by force.” The angel sounded threatening, but the pressure in the air was still light, his words are threatening, but his presence does not exude violence.
If he can’t convince him through peaceful terms, the angel of mercy will force the information out of him.
“Alright, I’ll tell you everything.”
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Greg went on to reveal the truth about the rape case.
It was when he was just twenty-two years old. He started his cooking apprenticeship under one of the most prominent chef in Wales, Chef Mark Peter Wright.
The restaurant appeared to be thriving, and with the help of celebrities flocking around, it became world-class famous and even received three Michelin stars.
Everything and everyone appeared to be happy and successful, but when the door closes its business and no other customer is around, Mark and his wife, Gladys become overrun with anxiety for bankruptcy.
This went on for two years, until they found out that Greg was a son of a rich entrepreneur.
He had close friends within those people inside the restaurant – the servers, the waiters, and the other chefs are truly close to him, and one day, a recording was anonymously dropped in his locker.
He didn’t press anyone about the audio file, but listened to the recording halfway.
They’re going to blackmail his father to escape bankruptcy.
They’re going to accuse Greg or raping Gladys, and by the time the police find out the truth, it’ll be too late.
Greg knew of the bankruptcy, everyone did. When the d-day happened, Greg stayed silent all the way. As the workers saw Greg’s determination, they, too, stayed silent.
The couple was not able to blackmail Greg’s father, because Greg was arrested immediately as he was not participating.
Greg only told his father about his plan, and due to this, his father responded like the workers in the restaurant responded in Greg’s determination.
He wouldn’t want to involve his father in his mess, he wouldn’t want to drag everyone in the restaurant for a fight that may exhaust them more, and Greg stayed silent until the end and accepted the verdict.
He was instructed to pay a certain amount while the rape case was lowered to sexual assault case.
He served almost five years and got out due to good behavior.
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“Did you not find any other way to help them?” Michael curiously asked, cutting off Greg as he told the story.
Greg looked at the light with utter fascination. Humans can only move in their limited power.
“At the time, I just knew two things – either they ask my father, or their counsel won. I- I’m not a lawyer, I’m a chef.” He stuttered as he responded to the most obvious question that one may conclude in hearing the story.
“Then… are you not angry?” The angel of mercy approached and held his soul in his hands.
“The five years I spent in there, and the five years they’ve spent feeling guilty are my vengeance from God.” He felt the warmth from the hands of the angel.
“I think… that’s enough for bitterness and hate.” He continued.
The man spoke as if he was a man of God. No, a character nearest to David’s clever and skillful reasoning, yet a merciful and sorrowful person to boot.
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“BAM!” A loud noise startled the three in the spiritual realm. Michael and Zmanel quickly manifested in the physical realm, along with the soul of Greg in Zmanel’s hands.
The ray of light and the invisible angel spied around the rooms once more, and phased through the walls, it was not long ‘til they heard the wailing cries of a man inside the kitchen doors.
“Jonathan…” The soul softly spoke.
The man ceased weeping, as if hearing something, and looked upwards, as if there were no ceiling at the restaurant, and appeared to be praying.
“Brother…” Another word the soul uttered.
“Greg!” The man knew what he heard. It was a voice all too familiar with his ears.
“Zmanel, you need to go.” Michael telepathically connected to Zmanel and he replied. “Sure.”
“Say good bye, my little sweet Greg.” Zmanel smiled as he ascended.
The man definitely heard another voice, not too familiar with that one, but he knew his brother is nearby.
“Jonathan, I know that you know what all of this means. I just want you to know that I am now at peace with the angels. Please live your life as you please.” Greg ascended with the angel, and followed the string of glory back to Heaven.
“No, no, no, it’s not… it’s not yet your time, please… please come back!” Jonathan desperately wept and reached out to the air as if clawing something back to the body of his ‘brother’.
“NOOOOOO!” The wailing echo of his cries filled the restaurant.
The previous warmth that enveloped each room, the elegance, and the lights that give life to the place, suddenly appeared devoid of color, and became a bed-filled of death and coldness and emptiness.
Jonathan still tried to revive his brother’s heart through CPR, but it’s no use, he’s already been dead for about 2-3 hours.
He can only hug the cold, cold corpse of his brother as he wept tirelessly through the night.