Phillip Simpson - Rapture

And then it happened.

The Rapture.

The sky was suddenly awash with light, the clouds pushed aside as if by the breath of God. A million rays of light beamed down from the heavens, seeking out and lifting up the faithful. Sam knew that he would not be one of them, but yet a part of him still held out some hope that he would be. Perhaps he would be taken up to Heaven with Aimi, Hikari and the rest. Even if it was by mistake; even if somehow one of the beams hit him accidentally and he would be transported to join them … In the direction of Jacob’s Ladder, he saw many of the beams lancing down to Earth. None fell around him. Not even close.

Still, Sam experienced a presence that filled him with joy, and he knew with complete certainty what was happening. He closed his eyes and basked in the glorious feeling, aware of the image of Christ in his head. Jesus was smiling at him. And it was wonderful.

He couldn’t have said how long it went on for, but as suddenly as it began, it was gone, leaving him with such a feeling of loss that he would have wept if he could. He sank to his knees, completely shattered by the feeling of abandonment and despair. ‘Aimi …’ he started to whisper, but as he heard a crack of thunder, Sam looked up. Already, dark clouds were massing above him. The Tribulation was beginning.

Beneath him, the ground shook. An earthquake. The rocks around him trembled and then shook ferociously. A nearby rock spire tumbled ponderously to the ground, accompanied by a terrible roar. If he hadn’t already been on his knees, the earthquake would have thrown him there.

He knew he couldn’t stay here. It wasn’t safe — but that wasn’t his most important consideration.

He wanted to see her one last time. To say goodbye properly. To tell her one more time that her loved her. He had to try, even though his heart and the rational part of his mind were telling him it was too late.

He leapt up and found himself sprinting, running faster than he ever had in his life.

And then the sky began to rain fire.

When he got back to Jacob’s Ladder, many of the buildings were ablaze. The few people he saw were staggering about in shock, making no effort to put them out. Main Street was littered with empty cars, their occupants all taken by the Rapture, their clothes left empty on the car seats and sidewalk. His own clothes were smoking after being hit by several burning fragments but he simply ignored it, hardly registering the blistering pain.

Sam knew that the eight hundred odd residents of his town were mostly devout. He’d surreptitiously followed Aimi and Hikari to church on a number of occasions and he’d seen that the small church was almost overflowing with devotees. Standing room only. In fact, Father Rainey had spoken of building a new, bigger church, although Sam wondered why he was bothering. Hikari was even on the fund raising committee for it.

Despite an urge to help the few people he encountered, he didn’t have time. He raced to his house. It seemed to have been spared the worst. The earthquake had hardly touched it although something on the roof appeared to be smouldering. The front door was ajar and he stormed in, shouting wildly. There was no answer. He raced up the stairs, darting into each room, impossible hope pounding in his chest. All empty. Downstairs was the same. The dining room table was already set for the evening meal. In the kitchen, many of the cupboard doors were open, some of their contents lying smashed on the floor.

Of Hikari and Aimi there was no sign. They were gone. Gone forever.

With heavy steps, he returned upstairs and sat down on the floor of Aimi’s room. Her summer dress was still on the bed. She must have been sitting on it at the time. He touched them gently, reverently, smelling the perfume that still lingered.

He felt something trickle down his face and he wiped it away irritably. When he looked at the back of his hand, he found trails of red. He had never cried in his life; in fact, he could not cry with no tear ducts. But now, at last, he was. He was crying tears of blood. For her.

He sank to his knees, absolutely full of despair and sadness. For a long time, droplets of blood continued to fall into his lap.

Sometime later, he roused himself and went downstairs. He sat at the table staring despondently at the three settings, the feeling of loss so strong he thought he could taste it. He served himself the last meal Aimi had prepared and ate it in cold silence, more as something to do than from any feeling of hunger. She had made him his favourite food, but now it tasted of ash, almost as if the dust falling from the sky had got into the dish.

Later still, he found himself sitting on the couch in the lounge, not quite sure how he got there. He couldn’t remember moving. He sat there for what could have been hours, so still that someone entering the house at that time might have mistaken him for a statue.

Eventually, he shook himself like a dog removing excess water from its coat and stood. And then he began to scream. His scream was more of a roar, pouring out of him in a great torrent. Screaming for his loss, venting his pain. He kept going until he was completely out of breath and then he began again. After some time, he was spent and collapsed back onto the couch.

This was exactly what Aimi and Hikari wouldn’t want him to do. Wrapping himself in his grief and misery, while understandable, was hardly a positive step. He had to go on. To move on with his life and do what he had been tasked with. For their sakes.

He needed to do something. Anything to keep him busy and take his mind off the shattering events of the last few hours. Taking a bucket of water from the large rain barrel they used for watering the garden, he climbed up onto the roof. It didn’t take him long to extinguish all the embers from the hail of fire that were starting to smoulder.

Back in the house, he went upstairs and into his bedroom. On the only shelf in the room was his sword rack. His swords were nestled within it, waiting for him.

Strapping them on, he returned downstairs and left by the front door.

It was dark now and the street was deserted. The lights were still on but Sam didn’t think that would last long. Some of the less damaged shops had lights on, too, but Sam suspected that they were automated. The practical side of his nature told him that he’d have to check those shops out shortly for supplies but that was a job for another day.

Right now, he had something more important to do.

Providence Street had survived the earthquake more or less intact. The front veranda of Father Rainey’s house had collapsed though, making entry that way into the house almost impossible. Sam was forced to go around the back. Inside, the house was as empty as his own.

It looked like the priest and his nephew had both been taken by the Rapture. After pacing around the house for a while, Sam finally noticed that something was different: the lack of nausea. Normally, being this close to the church would make him sick to his stomach.

Curious, he left the house and walked up to the iron gates that marked the entrance to the church. Still nothing. Experimentally, already wincing in anticipation of the pain, he placed one foot in the grounds. He almost cried out with the surprising lack of … well, anything. There was absolutely no sensation.

He took another step. Nothing. Confident that the church grounds had suddenly lost their ability to hurt him, he started walking towards the front door.

Then a smooth voice that he recognized immediately stopped him cold in his tracks.

“We meet again, Samael.”

Sitting on the roof of the church was the demon he met many months earlier — the one that he’d promised himself he would kill.

“You’re looking well,” said the demon sarcastically, his eyes running over the scorched parts of Sam’s clothing.