October skies

Preston knew the Lord would forgive him that small lie; there was no cure for these creatures. But he was a man of compassion and love — he would make its death a mercifully swift one.

How can a man be so blind, so unaware of the space around him?

He stood behind Preston, now no more than an arm’s reach away, swaying silently and struggling to keep from laughing aloud. He couldn’t wait for the stupid, arrogant idiot to turn round and see him.

You are so blind, Preston.

The tall man in front of him, calling up a tree like a fool, was going to die in just a few moments. But before he died he wanted Preston to know who it was that was going to kill him… as he’d managed to do with Eric Vander. Saul Hearst’s killing had been unprepared; it had happened in the blink of an eye, amidst a red rage that had clouded the moment. He would have liked to have taken his time with Saul, to let the dirty old man understand what fear truly was, for him to comprehend what a despicable creature he was… but most of all, to have him know for certain before he died that he would burn in the pits of hell for eternity.

He’d had that exquisite pleasure with Eric.

And now it was Preston’s turn.

A gentle breeze tickled his bare skin as he rose up from his hunched posture, now standing straight, the soft clink of bones unheard. He whispered.

William…

Preston spun round at the sound of the gentle hiss of his name.

‘Oh my!’ His voice froze in his throat instantly. The head-rush of fear and awe, terror and elation left him momentarily rigid and silent, his pursuit of the child-imp in the tree completely dismissed from his mind.

Preston… the apparition before him hissed again quietly.

He dropped to his knees, and looked up in stunned, silent awe at the tall skeletal form standing over him. Love, joy and elation forced a choked sob from his throat.

‘Nephi, is it you? You… you’ve come to me at last!’ His voice quivered with gratitude. Tears rolled from the corner of his deep eyes, down hollow cheeks into the dark thatch of bristles beneath his jaw.

‘Oh thank the Lord! I thought I had disappointed Him, disappointed you somehow… that you’d sought someone else for this work.’

The angel remained still. Preston’s eyes wandered up the pale form, over the spines and bones that protruded from it, up to the long, horned skull and two dark eye sockets through which he thought he saw the reflected glint of his flickering oil lamp.

‘It’s done! We… we have cleansed this place as you asked.. cleansed it of devilish parasites; they’ve all gone.’ His voice trembled with excitement. ‘Pure enough that y-you’ve come back to us.’

The angel raised a long bony finger up to a jagged row of teeth. Shhhhh.

Preston felt the dark eye sockets studying him intently and was certain he sensed the angel was pleased with him — proud of him for having the strength of purpose to see through what needed to be done.

‘Do you wish to b-begin our work?’ Preston asked, ending the still and silent tableau. ‘The golden plates are w-waiting in our temple, ready for us t-to begin-’

Shhhhh.

Preston stopped.

You have waited long for this, William — to revive me. He nodded, feeling tears of joy welling in his eyes. ‘I’ve wanted to see you, to talk with you, to hear the voice of an angel…’

But, William… why would an angel come to you?

‘What?’

Why would God trust you to deliver His word from those sacred plates? Hmm?

Preston shook his head, confused. ‘Because… He… He brought them to me, asked of me that I-’

No! You are a fake! A liar. A thief!

‘No!’

Eric, Saul and you… the false prophet. You know what happens to false prophets?

Preston shook his head.

The angel suddenly took a step forward, one hand swiping across Preston’s belly.

Preston was startled and confused by the sudden movement. It was only when a twisting tendril of warm steam flickered past his eyes a couple of seconds later that he understood the angel had just cut him open. He looked down to see a growing pool of dark, viscous blood soaking into the snow at his feet, and a coil of glistening intestine protruding from the ripped gash in his clothes, hanging pendulously towards the ground.

He looked up at Nephi. ‘Why did…?’

There are so many interesting things inside you. You’re going to see them all before you die. The angel giggled like a naughty child.

Preston felt an emerging sting of pain from his opened belly. But his confused, struggling mind was trying to comprehend a more important thing.

‘Why? Why… do… this?’

The angel swung a hand of long, razor-sharp fingers across the open wound, catching the bulge of intestine and pulling a long loop of it out onto the snow. Preston felt the tender tug pulling him forward. He collapsed onto his knees.

Because you are not a good man. Not good enough for God.