Joshua Graham - Terminus

She tried to keep her eyes on his, and managed to say, “Yes, oh yes,” then her gaze went a million miles away and she smiled as if she’d just seen something unutterably beautiful. Her eyes closed, but the smile on her face didn’t fade. “Nick…don’t be afraid…It’s just a dream, it’s all just been like a dream. We’re going to wake up one day and…”

“Hope…don’t.”

A look of perfect peace fell over her.

Nick kissed her, and wept softly.

He’d failed as an angel.

And on his first day as a mortal, he’d failed the woman he loved.

The dark vapor fell over him.

Enveloped him.

IN THE ABSOLUTE BLACKNESSS, Nick felt neither cold nor warm. He felt no pain. In fact, he felt nothing at all. So this is what death is like for a mortal.

How long before the dark reapers came for him?

An eternity—at least that’s what it seemed like. He’d lost all sense of time.

Whatever happens , face it with dignity. Like a guardian. Like the warrior you once were.

The darkness began to lighten, gradually turning from dark to pale grey to bright white. Nick rubbed his eyes and looked around, but with no discernible point of reference he couldn’t tell where he was.

A thin strand of black smoke wove through the air, growing longer and wider before him. He soon recognized it as the dark vapor, yet he didn’t fear it. The thought of its constant presence at pivotal moments in his existence comforted him. And then, for the first time in all the thousands of years it had followed him, it transformed into something.

Or someone.

“Johann?”

As usual, the tall angel didn’t speak. His dark glasses concealed his eyes—no way to tell if he came as friend or foe. Or otherwise. He stretched out his hand and gestured to the side, where a dark portal opened.

“I see.” With Johann at his side, Nick approached the portal. “You’re a dark reaper, aren’t you?”

Johann didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at Nick. He just accompanied him into the tunnel through which Nick had taken countless human souls to the Terminus. Only this time, he was the one getting on the train.

With a dark reaper.

“Right. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

A moment later—it could have been centuries, hard to tell in this realm, now that he’d experienced life and death as a mortal—they arrived at the Terminus. Only it wasn’t quite the construct he’d created every time he escorted a soul. No, this was an amorphous sea of light and consciousness. Rather unnerving, actually.

“Would you mind?” Nick said. “A construct, please?”

Johann turned his head to face the expanse and there it was, the construct.

Nick’s construct.

Victoria Station, 1907.

Johann motioned for him to go through the open doors of the train waiting on the platform.

For the entire ride, he sat across from Nick without word or expression. No one else was in the car they occupied, so it was quiet. Nick could not stop thinking of Hope, though a multitude of thoughts crowded his mind.

“You know, for as long as I can remember,” he said, “I’ve always wanted to take one of these rides, see what was on the other side.” He shook his head.

The corner of Johann’s mouth twitched ever so slightly.

At last, the train stopped.

The doors hissed open.

Face it with dignity. Nick took a deep breath, stood up, and left the train with Johann.

Once again, an absolute void. The train doors slid shut behind them and left them there, alone in the dark save for a narrow beam of light that drew a circle on the wall where they were standing.

“What are we waiting for?” Nick said.

Johann became the dark vapor, and vanished.

“Brilliant.”

The circle of light on the wall grew wider and wider, revealing a great gate on either side of which stood a magnificent creature. Their wings rose high above their shoulders, and the swords in their hands blazed. Nick resisted the impulse to fall at their feet.

Before him stood the archangels Michael and Gabriel.

He held his head high, prepared to face the same judgment as Lucifer and his demons.

THE GREAT GATE SWUNG OPEN without a sound. A figure emerged and came forth. Nick could not have described it because the light emanating from it overwhelmed his sight. Its presence caused him to fall to his knees and bow his head. No angel of his stature had ever stood so close. That was reserved strictly for the holiest.

Or those facing eternal damnation.

Nick could barely speak. But he did, with fear and trembling.

“Father.”

“Nikolai.” He didn’t exactly hear the voice, he perceived it. And the voice didn’t just resound—it rippled through the universe. “You stand before the judgment seat, having touched humanity, having intervened and taken on their likeness and nature. What have you to say for yourself?”

“I make no excuse, Father. I’m ready to accept the consequences of my actions.”

“Have you no advocate?”

Michael stepped forward, scowling down at Nick.

“There is one, Father.”

The dark vapor appeared again.

Nick drew a sharp breath. Not Johann.

The vapor became Johann, then it evaporated into a glowing cloud which coalesced into…

“Tamara?”

The dark vapor? Johann? They had been Tamara all along?

“I vouch for Nikolai, Father,” she said.

“Then you have taken full responsibility for his actions,” He said.

“I have.”

“May I speak?” Michael said. Father nodded, whereupon Michael proceeded to cite each count of Nick’s “flagrant” disregard for protocol. “And the most grave of all: He was found to be in collusion for a time with the Dark Dominion.”

Though Nick hadn’t realized it was them until it was too late, there was no use trying to explain. It would only make things worse.

Father passed his hand before Nick, who now found himself wearing what appeared to be the dress uniform of an officer in the British Army, circa 1900. The medals on it and the sword at his side evoked his glorious stint as a decorated guardian.

Now, before his cosmic hanging, he would have his medals stripped, his epaulets torn from his shoulders, his sword broken in half over Michael’s knee.

Father’s eyes were fixed on him with a look both terrifying and compelling.

“Come forth, Nikolai.”

Nick obeyed, his back ramrod straight.

Michael held out his hand.

Nick turned over his sword.

Tamara removed his coat.

“Bow, Nikolai,” Gabriel said.

Nick bowed. Down on one knee, face to the ground, he awaited the final blow that would send him into the fiery pits, to suffer everlasting torment as a mortal.

NICK CONSIDERED ABANDONING HIS PRIDE and throwing himself at Father’s mercy, and begging for forgiveness. He never got the chance.

“Arise, Nikolai.”

When he lifted his head, Father stood over him, shining like the morning, a brilliant smile spread across his magnificent countenance. Nick got up.

To his surprise, Tamara put a purple robe over his shoulders. Michael handed him a new sword so brilliant, it seemed to blaze with white fire.

“I… I don’t understand.” Nick looked all around.

“My son, do you not see?” Father placed His hand on Nick’s head as though in blessing. “Once you were lost but now are found. Once you were dead but are now alive.”

“But I chose to defect. I broke the law.”

Father laughed, the sound of it remarkably like thunder.

“Did you really think any of what you did could go on without my knowledge?”