The Fallen (Angelic Redemption) Read Online Free

exist. I must have a purpose beyond
this emptiness.”
    His outburst settled his nerves some, but not
enough.
    “I’m alive. I don’t deserve to be, but I am,” he
said more weakly, falling into a whisper.
    Outside in the world, men whispered about him in
all of the dark locales where evil men whispered about assassins. They called
him the Reaper, but Joaquin was not impressed by his own legend. It had been
created too easily and thus had no worth. Nothing had worth to Joaquin, for he
was an empty vessel. Unbreakable, but empty still.
    The failing sun granted a peculiar light to the
desolate land and to this miserable motel. Eyeing the gun in his hand, Joaquin
wished he might call it his favorite, but he had no favorites. An empty vessel
cares for nothing, longs for nothing, not even a fish taco or cold beer.
    Around him the room shifted, the light creating
shadows and donning illumination into dark corners. Even in moments like these
in a place so awful, Joaquin knew God existed. The devil might be Joaquin’s
master, but God still possessed power over it all.
    Setting the gun aside, he knelt on the dirty floor
and slapped his hands together loudly, welcoming the noise. Closing his eyes,
he pondered his words.
    “Lord, do I have any purpose beyond what has come
before? Can I be redeemed or am I no more than the evil I commit? Please show
me the answer or else I will stop myself the only way I know how.”
    Joaquin kept his eyes closed another minute,
waiting for a sign. Once sitting back on the bed, he wiped sweat from his dark
brow with one hand and retrieved the gun with his other.
    A small sign, something mundane even.
    Maybe the long dead air conditioner might expel a
puff of cold air? Joaquin stared at the unit affixed to the wall, willing it to
burst to life. Salty sweat dripping into his eyes was the only response.
    Joaquin pondered how long to wait for his answer.
Deciding no entity powerful enough to create the universe should need this much
time, he eyed his pistol again.
    “I can’t say I blame you for rejecting me, Lord.”
    Joaquin wasn’t afraid to die, even if he felt he
should be. He should feel a lot more than he did holding the gun, but this was
the point. He didn’t feel or need anything. Well he had needed an answer from
God, but the Big Guy wasn’t taking his calls.
    The gun felt cool against his chin, colder than
anything else in the room. His finger ached to press the trigger, but something
told him he might want to wait, maybe just to consider the gravity of the
moment. Joaquin was finished waiting though.
    An explosion startled him. For the slightest second,
he wondered if he had somehow missed. The gun rested in his hand, unused. Yet
another blast rang out. Slipping the weapon into his waistband, Joaquin
sprinted to the window. Peering from behind the curtain, he immediately
identified the cause of the ruckus.
    An expensive car - the kind men with something to
prove liked to drive - lurched towards the motel, finally groaning to a halt
twenty yards away. Smoke billowed from the engine and Joaquin noticed more than
a few bullet holes along the passenger side of the car. Easing his hand back toward
the gun, he waited for the driver to emerge.
    A pretty blonde fell out of the driver’s side
before finding her feet. Standing in a panic, she threw her head in every
direction, scanning for danger with her arms perched widely, ready for a fight.
Her attention soon turned to the motel.
    Whatever she feared was now approaching and she
took off running away from the smoking car. Pausing in the open distance
between the motel and a nearby burned out auto shop, the woman wiped her hands
on her dirty Texas A & M shirt then made her decision.
    Instead of choosing the motel, the woman dashed
towards a large dumpster. Tossing open the lid, she hurled herself inside. A
wisp of blonde hair was the last sign of her as she yanked down the lid, just a
minute before two cars sped towards the motel.
    Joaquin