Visael

By Todd Kirby

Visael was a very inexperienced angel. Oh sure, he had been around for thousands of years, but he spent most of that time in remote areas. He had certainly never been assigned to one of the “sons-of-men” as a guardian. It was a good thing he was teamed up with Seren, a Captain of the Host, to guide him on his first assignment. Still, Visael was only a Reader angel, considered by most to be one of the weakest ranks of angels. What protection could he possibly add?

He finds out soon enough that the stakes are high, as he comes into contact with some of the nastiest demons in existence on his new assignment. How could Visael be expected to battle these dark behemoths? And even more concerning, how could he stand up against his former teacher, who sided with the demons during the Fall?

In the end, it’s about trust. It’s about faith. And it’s about destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Todd Kirby
• Release date: Feb 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463884379

Todd Kirby

Todd Kirby is a true child of the Midwest. Born in Ohio, he grew up in Indiana, lived for a short time in Tennessee and is now raising his family in Kentucky. Todd graduated Cum Laude from Kentucky Christian College with degrees in Bible and Psychology. Todd played bass guitar professionally for several years, touring with the Christian rock band Bleach. He currently alternates between playing bass guitar and electric guitar for his church praise team. Todd's "real job" is building custom websites, but he enjoys writing and has recently published his third book "A Song of Hope". Please feel free to follow Todd on Instagram (@toddkirby97).

Book preview

Visael

By Todd Kirby

Copyright © 2019

All Rights Reserved

The following is a work of fiction.

Any relation of the characters and events to actual individuals or events is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

I always thank God first, because I truly wouldn’t be where I am today without His mercy and grace. His providence and protection allow me to do all things, and I’m so grateful for Him.

I also thank my wife, Kim Kirby, for helping edit my books. She makes sure the plot flows smoothly and doesn’t contradict itself between chapters. Thanks too, to my father, Floyd Kirby, for helping edit. He makes sure my spelling and grammar are correct. Without my editors, I’m sure my books would be unreadable.

In addition, two others have provided their time and expertise for this book. Thank you, Inez Smallwood, for your advice on all things medical. Thanks also to Chris Burton for your input on police-related issues.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About the Author

Chapter One

Clem Ferguson was the frontman for Rokkit Fuel, a metal band who had just gone gold with their debut album. It wasn’t Clem’s first attempt at success; indeed, he had seen his share of failures in the industry. He finally made sure this time would be ‘the one’.

At the moment, he was hosting an ‘Industry’ party, and he had retired to the studio room with a female guest for a little privacy. As he sat on an exotic leather couch, drinking top-shelf liquor, Clem looked at the trophies on his wall. The album had gone gold first in the UK, then several months later in the U.S. Just this morning his manager called him and told him that the album made gold in Japan. Japan, for Pete’s sake. Yes, Clem and Rokkit Fuel had certainly arrived. After the video shoot tomorrow, they were scheduled to appear on the late night TV circuit. He was officially a rock star now.

The woman sitting next to him was a new... friend. She was a cute little blond with a California tan and baby blue eyes. Clem still wasn’t sure exactly who she was or how she got in to the party, but with these kinds of parties, there were always hangers-on that showed up. With her looks, he wasn’t asking too many questions, but he should probably know her name at least. Before he could ask, she pulled out a packet of brownish gray powder and a pipe from her purse.

What’s that? asked Clem.

Just a little ‘hell dust’,'' she replied. Only the best quality for you…"

Clem had been around heroin before, but never actually consumed any. He had seen people dissolve it and inject it with a needle, but never smoke it - which was obviously what she was preparing to do.

Umm… he began to object.

"Don’t tell me you’re afraid... she said, cocking an eyebrow at him. Clem, sweetie, you haven’t lived until you’ve smoked a bowl of this stuff. Seriously, there is nothing dangerous about it. Trust me."

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was something in her voice, but Clem’s resolve quickly diminished.

Yeah, okay… I guess so… he said as she passed him the pipe. He stuck it in his mouth as she held a lighter over the top of the bowl. Clem breathed deep, and it stung as it entered his lungs. A feeling of warmth quickly came over him.

He started to pass the pipe back to her, but the girl said, Get one more good toke, then I’ll hit it… So Clem took another deep drag off of the pipe. Soon he felt his heartbeat slow way down. At first it was nice, but then it became hard to breathe. Clem started feeling dizzy, and his stomach rolled - he felt sick. And then he heard her laugh.

As Clem looked at the woman beside him, her form started to change. He wondered if it was an effect of the drug or if she were actually morphing into someone else. Her hair became jet black and her skin became pale white. Her eyes were green, and her lips were an unnatural red. Clem recognized the new form immediately. His eyes shot to the records on his wall and he said out loud, No, that wasn’t the deal…

In a voice much more sinister than the one that tempted him, she said, "Oh, but that was the deal, Clem."

No! Clem’s voice quivered as he felt his consciousness begin to fade. You said three gold records, that was the deal!

I see three gold records on your wall… said the woman, looking around the room.

Those are the same record! Clem argued, just different markets!

The woman smiled and leaned in close to Clem. She spoke more slowly now, I… see… three gold records on your wall.

That’s not fair! Clem was panicking now, but it was too late.

Fair? she said, leaning back and crossing her arms, Do you think it’s fair that you get what you want and I just get left hanging? She slid closer to him on the couch and leaned in again, Do you know the deals I had to make to get you those gold albums? Seriously Clem, your music stinks. I’ve heard church worship teams with more talent than your band.

Clem’s heartbeat was so slow now that he thought he felt it stop. Oh, Clem, honey… the woman said, almost apologetic. Now you’ve gone and overdosed. As darkness overtook him, the last words Clem heard were, I’ll see you soon, sweetie. And the woman’s laugh echoed through the darkness.

__________________________________

Clem Ferguson, of the metal band ‘Rokkit Fuel’, was found dead in his Los Angeles home earlier this morning. said the man on the television news station. The apparent victim of a heroin overdose, survivors include his parents, a brother and an estranged girlfriend...

Interesting… said the man sitting up at the bar. ‘Big Mike’ was a beast of a man, standing about six foot six, built like an NFL linebacker, and sporting a full, thick beard. He looked more the part of a Norse deity than a barfly. Clem didn’t do heroin...

Evidently he did. replied the bartender, as he picked up the remote and switched the television to a sports channel. Tom was a good bartender. He didn’t offer his opinion often, and never regarding religion or politics. He knew his regulars well, and when he saw them come in the door, he usually had their drink setting on the bar by the time they got to it. He also kept the winos out so they didn’t bother the regulars. One such poor wretch was Jimmy, who just now came stumbling up to the bar.

Hey Tom… Jimmy slurred, how about you spot me one beer and I’ll pay you tomorrow…

Get out Jimmy, Tom replied. Don’t make me call the cops again…

I smell foul play, said Big Mike.

You think he sold his soul to the devil? Tom said with a chuckle. And the devil came for his due?

Something like that… answered Big Mike without looking up. But then, you don’t believe in the devil, do you Tom?

Come on Mike… Tom countered. God vs. the devil… the cosmic forces of good vs. evil in a battle for the human race? No, I guess you could say I don’t believe in that.

Half a beer… Jimmy slurred. Just gimme half a beer and I’ll leave… I promise…

Jimmy... said Tom, a little more sternly now.

Well, it’s not really God vs. the devil, Big Mike returned, downing the last of his drink before placing it firmly back on the bar. God is all-powerful, all-present, and all-knowing. The devil is just a fallen angel. He can tempt you, but he can’t ‘make’ you do anything. He has no more power than I do.

You a fallen angel, are you Mike? Tom said with another chuckle.

Big Mike kept a straight face and said, Not exactly… He got up and walked over to where Jimmy was leaning against the bar. Jimmy looked up at Mike with glossy, bloodshot eyes and smiled a weak smile. Suddenly Mike waved his hand over Jimmy’s eyes, and his eyes opened wide and became clear. Tell me your story Jimmy…

Almost in a trance, Jimmy spoke with clarity, I… I was a pastor. I had a growing congregation and the respect of my peers. Then one day while I was driving home from a wedding, I was T-boned by another car. While I was recovering, I got addicted to pain pills. I started out doctor shopping, but when they got wise and I couldn’t get pills, I turned to alcohol. I lost everything to my addiction. My job, my friends, my family… everything. I need help.

Big Mike looked at Tom and said, Maybe we can help…

Mike waved his hand at the television and it flickered from the ball game to a preacher who was giving a sermon: So the man asked Jesus, ‘Who is my neighbor?’ And the Lord answered him with a parable…

Tom wasn’t smiling now. He looked at Big Mike, whose eyes were on the television, so Tom looked up at the television too. The preacher went on, A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

The preacher paused for effect, looking into the camera. Tom and Jimmy were both mesmerized. Then the preacher finished, So our Lord looked at the expert in the law and asked him, ‘Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?’ The expert in the law replied, ‘The one who had mercy on him.’ And Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise.’

Suddenly the power flickered, and the television switched back to the game.

You know that beer won’t help Jimmy, said Mike. What do you think will?

Tom looked at Mike like he had three heads, and said. What is this? Some sort of… reverse temptation?

Still maintaining his stone face, Big Mike replied, Temptation is just what happens when desire meets opportunity. Tom looked around the bar, unsure if all of this was actually happening. The only people there were himself, Big Mike and Jimmy. Jimmy was still mesmerized, and Big Mike was looking at Tom expectantly.

I suppose… Tom began, something practical. A halfway house or recovery center, maybe?

Hmmm… said Mike. That would be a good start. Do you know of any halfway houses or recovery centers in the area? Now Mike’s face softened into a knowing smile.

Tom sighed, and looked over at the phone. Then he looked back at Mike, and back at the phone. Finally, he went over to the phone and picked it up. He dialed a number and waited as it rang. When someone on the other end picked up, Tom said, Dad? It’s Tom. Do you still work at that recovery center on the west side? St. Mary’s? I need you to come… suddenly Tom’s eyes met Mike’s. I need to bring someone out there. Tom’s eyes shifted to his tip jar, it was nearly full. Yeah, he went on, I can donate some money to help. Okay… bye.

Now Big Mike smiled fully, Well done, Tom. he said, You’re being a great help to this man.

What just happened? asked Tom.

Desire has met opportunity. said Mike. It just takes some time. Weeks… months… years sometimes. We just have to be patient. Suddenly Tom remembered how Mike had come in for the first time, a little over a year ago. It was the same night that Jimmy came in for the first time. Tom had always just thought it was a coincidence.

There have been times when you had the desire, Mike said, snapping Tom out of his trip down memory lane. And times when you had the opportunity. Tonight, the two have met.

Are you an angel, Mike? Tom asked, almost fearing the answer.

Suddenly a woman’s voice from behind Tom startled him. He turned around to look and saw that it was one of the cocktail waitresses, Maria. Don't forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it. she said. Isn’t that what the Bible says?

Tom stood speechless for a moment, wondering what Maria was doing here at this hour. As he turned back around to finish his conversation with Mike, there was no one there. Then he turned back around to look for Maria, and she was no longer there either.

Come on, Jimmy… Tom said, picking up his jacket. He grabbed the money from his tip jar and walked around to the other side of the bar. Let’s get you to St. Mary’s. I’m going to introduce you to someone who probably knows exactly what you’re going through...

Tom helped Jimmy to the entryway, where he shut the lights off and locked the door behind him as he left. He didn’t see the figures of Mike and Maria watching him go.

His journey has finally begun, hasn’t it Captain? said Maria, as her voice took on a more masculine tone. Her form started changing, and she grew to a nine-foot tall man of indistinguishable origin. His dark hair was flowing in waves, just below his shoulders. He wore a white tunic that came down to his knees, and a gold belt which held a golden sword. His build was massive, much like Big Mike’s, and white-feathered wings sprouted from his back.

Yes Visael, said Mike, as his appearance began changing as well. ...and the Dark Ones will be visiting him soon. We’ll have to be even more vigilant now… The Captain’s form was similar to his angelic companion, except