Chapter Four

The second Aeron opened the door to his apartment, his lungs filled with dirt and debris. What was once a semi-beautiful home had transformed into a grey, dust-covered hellscape. "Something tells me Malcolm never called that cleaner," he mumbled as he hacked some phlegm up into his hands. "Goddammit," he groaned—his sinuses were flaring up. He was quick to grab some tissues and, before the floodgates opened, tore one in half, and shoved the pieces into his nostrils. His new tusks were far from flattering, but they did their job. "This place is a gift that keeps on giving," the Cherub thought as he rubbed his sore temples.

At this point, all he wanted to do was sleep. And so, before he caught anything else, Aeron rushed to the bedroom. Several of the previous owner's suspicious items were still strewn about the room, but he tried his best to ignore them. And that was when he noticed the rats. They scurried off the bed in waves—forming a putrid swarm that completely covered the floor. That was the last straw. As soon as he was able, Aeron opened a skylight and flew out of the building. He'd have to thank God for giving this apartment one of the few windows in The Courthouse. "What should I do now?" the Cherub thought as he wafted into the rosy sky. Since he obviously couldn't stay in his quarters, he'd have to find somewhere else to spend the night. "I guess that leaves only one option," he thought as he scratched his chin. There was only one other place in all of Heaven that he could relax, and that was Downtown.

There were several mysterious aspects about Heaven, but one of the most thought-provoking had to be how Downtown gained its name. After all, Heaven as a realm was constantly expanding its borders. Millions of new hamlets had to be created every day to house new arrivals—each addition being more extensive and fancier than the last. Yet, somehow, this town managed to become the commercial center of Heaven. People didn't spend money here. Instead, they spent time. Like judges, regular folk could also earn themselves a wish. However, their wish would come at a steeper price—the average period clocking in at a whopping ten thousand years of hard labor. Of course, people capitalized on this system, and it didn't take long before shops and vendors infested the place. Once that started, God's paradise quickly transformed into a den of greed and deceit.

Even though Heaven had become a pit of mortal desires, it was still quite beautiful. Downtown, in particular, was breathtaking. "They've expanded the mall," Aeron sighed as he flew over a moderately sized marble complex. Downtown was utterly covered in similar buildings, but it was far from a sprawling metropolis. Most of the town was sat upon a ginormous, lush plain. A gentle breeze wafted in from the west, lightly ruffling the grass and causing a cloud of insects to fly out of the greenery. People of all shapes and sizes flowed in and out of the shops—creating a river of bodies. He hid in some passing clouds when he got to the town square, which was so stuffed with souls that it could've easily been mistaken for a swarming anthill. At this point, the last thing he wanted to do was get stuck in another interview.

After another thirty minutes or so, Aeron could finally make out his destination on the horizon. Near the outskirts of the town—surrounded by large mountains—was a building that looked akin to ancient temples. Several rectangular towers protruded out of the roof, with the centerpiece of the building being a small, glass penthouse. This majestic palace was the crown jewel of Heaven's entertainment industry, The Flying Wing. The most unbelievable bar and casino ever to grace God's garden.

As with every other place down here, he was the only one who had feathers. Aeron didn't know why, but he was oddly drawn to the mortals' type of entertainment. The bars bustled with a life that was nonexistent in the upper levels. Back in his hometown, the evening entertainment consisted of caroling and a few book readings. If there was one good mortal trait he could vouch for, it was that they knew how to have fun. Of course, their games couldn't compare to his work, but he saw them as experts when it came to exciting distractions.

Aeron landed behind a small grove of pine trees near the front of the casino. After taking a few seconds to brush the needle-like leaves off his coat, he slowly waltzed up to the main entrance. Hundreds upon thousands of patrons rushed around the plaza, the extravagant jewel-encrusted dresses and suits they wore so fancy a nobleman would turn in envy. Compared to them, he looked like a homeless bum. Thanks to his lacking apparel, he garnered quite a few glares as he walked towards the entrance. And even though he didn't care, the nerve of some of these people astounded him. "Wow, it only took ten minutes; that's a first," Aeron mumbled as he watched two bouncers move to intercept him.

"Excuse me, sir, but can we see your pass, please?" the leftmost bouncer asked. He was a giant of a man, but he didn't seem too threatening. He was the least intimidating of the two. The rightmost bouncer was much shorter than the first, but he had that unquenchable glint in his eye. This man was looking for a fight, and if the numerous dents that littered his baton were anything to go by, he probably wasn't the first person the man had to "help" tonight. As this minor roadblock started to unfold, several patrons stopped to watch the show. It was evident that the bouncers weren't the only ones in the mood for a bit of violence.

Sadly, Aeron would have to disappoint them. Like dangling keys in front of a curious feline, he slowly took out his wallet. He hindered every movement, every twitch, until he finally revealed his pass. It was an ugly little thing—just a pink rectangular card—but it spoke volumes. When he saw the rightmost bouncer's crestfallen face, Aeron let out a genuinely Angelic smile. He slightly revealed his silver halo for just long enough to observe the bouncer's horrified expression as he walked past them. There weren't many who cared about people like him down here, but everyone in Heaven knew that pissing off an Angel could lead to a one-way ticket to damnation. "Don't worry, pal," he said as he mockingly waved towards the two men. "I'm not going to squeal. I mean, it's people like you that make this place interesting." Once he was sure the pair had been adequately terrified, Aeron walked through the main entrance and strolled onto the main floor.

The glamorous interior of the Flying Wing was gorgeous. The entire casino was shaped like a gigantic spiral. The higher a person climbed, the higher the stakes. Thousands upon thousands of gilded slot machines and poker tables lined the walls. Ushers and bartenders bustled around the room, each carrying a veritable tower of wine glasses. The floor was covered in an unbelievably fine rug—with an exquisite pattern of Angels and crucifixes sewn into its sheets. "Hello, sir, welcome to the Flying Wing!" one of the hostesses greeted him as he walked up to the reception desk. Aeron took his pass and handed it to the receptionist as he had done thousands of times before. "May I see your watch, please?" she asked as she pulled a strange device out from one of the drawers. Said device was cylindrically shaped and had a small flashing light attached to the top. "The total for your visit today is six months. Is that option acceptable?" Aeron nodded as he handed her his small pocket watch. She then placed the strange device on top of the watch's face and, suddenly, the clock's hands started to turn counterclockwise. The device's light then flashed a rainbow of elegant colors, and it was done. "Thank you for your business, and enjoy your stay."

Eight hundred and ninety-five years ago...

I'm not sure how this happened, but the whole department got a day off! I wasn't too thrilled about it, but Malcolm and Jeremy were ecstatic. Of course, with no input from me, the two of them decided to spend this joyous occasion at some shithole called the Flying Wing. I don't know where they got the idea to take me, an Angel, to a place for mortals. But, if I'm being honest, I didn't mind it. I'll have to thank them for introducing me to that fine establishment. Now I finally have a place to spend my free time!

However, I'm not going to say that the Flying Wing is the perfect time sink. Maybe it's because I'm not a human, but a lot of the "entertainment" failed to spark my interest. The second we walked into that place, Malcolm and Jeremy rushed to the slot machines. If those two weren't so lucky, I swear they would have extended their period by four thousand years. That said, it was worth it. As that had to be the first time in my life that I saw Malcolm smile. We have been prodding him over it ever since.