From Heaven tHROUGH eARTH AND bEYOND

Today was the day.

“Did you hear the news?”

A veiled woman moved closer to a small group of men standing outside of the fisherman’s bazaar, turning her eyes to the rising sun coming from the east, adding light to the slowly fading darkness. She already knew what it was but she was curious to know how the announcement would be spoken to others.

“That Jesus man-he’s set to be crucified this morning,” an elder spoke. “They called him blasphemous. Said he believed himself to be the Messiah."

Of course he did. Because he was. It was the one thing he always claimed to be.

“You don’t believe him?” another-a much younger one questioned. “I heard he did miracles. Brought a man back to life.”

And he did.

“Nothing but witchcraft!” the third spat out, spittle landing in his beard. “He’s of the devil! Of evil!”

The woman covered her snicker behind her hand. Jesus was many things. Honest. Anointed. A bit sanctimonious. 

But of the devil he was not. 

Not in the way they thought at least.

“What about you?”

The three turned to her. She was pleasantly surprised to see that they wanted her opinion. Normally most wanted her to refill their cups of wine and feed them fruits or grant them wishes or worst, give in to them carnally.

“I think he’s whatever he thinks he is,” she answered smoothly. “If he believes he’s the King of the Jews and the savior of mankind, who am I to tell him differently?”

The eldest was about to speak but a commotion was coming around the bend. 

When they said Jesus the man was getting crucified in the morning she expected it to be much later, when the sun was a bit higher in the sky. But no.

There he was, behind two others convicts, dragging his own cross with great difficulty and escorted by several Roman soldiers. She only got flashes of his dark hair adorned with his crown of thorns and his bloody and tattered clothes in between all of the bodies crowding them, rotten fruits, vegetables, and vitriol coated words tossed at him. The chaos of it all fit the momentous occasion.

This was the big event. The Sacrifice of the Holy Lamb. The event that had been foretold for generations. A weird feeling swirled inside the woman as she slipped into the passing horde, narrowly avoiding the flying vegetation. She kept her eyes on the back of Jesus, wondering how long he was going to pretend that the cross was heavy to bear.

She had seen him literally pull off feats no man could ever do, and now he wanted to seem normal? It was pathetic in her opinion. She would never.

And she wouldn’t let him act like this. He would have his head held high during this, it’s the least he could do. Being humble did not mean he had to be weak.

“Em-”

Jesus fell flat on his face and the cross fell on top of him. Immediately several people rushed to help him but they were stopped by the weapons of the soldiers, barking commands to stay back. One man was grabbed and tossed over to Jesus, commanded to carry the cross on his behalf. Once he pulled the wood off the fallen man, he started to move and soldiers dragged Jesus up on his feet and shoved him on his way, making sure to dig their hands into the wounds on his back.

The woman hissed in pain on his behalf, the noise being buried in the clamor.

And so they continued to their destination. To Golgotha.

It felt like it took longer than usual to make it to the outside walls but when they arrived, the three men were separated as they were further mocked and ridiculed. Fortunately for the two, the crowd had their focus squarely on Jesus.

He took it all, the words, stones, and the rotten foods.

She watched him, an unreadable look on his face. The soldiers offered him a wine vinegar drink, but he declined. A series of elderly women came to him and the thieves with the chance to alleviate their pain before their crucifixion but Jesus turned that down too with a grateful demeanor. It was interesting seeing him in such a manner. The last time she saw him was a few weeks prior to this morning.

He had narrowly avoided being arrested for the fifth time. She told the soldiers looking for him that they had left the city and if they left, they’d be able to catch up to him before he got too far.

“Good day Jesus son of Joseph.”

She could recall the small smile on his face at the greeting. It was odd to see him look so…human. To see not the mighty and eldest of the archangels Emmanuel but a simple carpenter of only thirty something. It was fascinating to her.  She grasped his face, examining him. 

“You’re being reckless.”

She couldn’t help but chide him about it. It was one thing to go around and heal the sick or tell stories but it was another to publicly announce himself as the Savior.

“I have to be. How else will I do what I am instructed to do?”

A roll of her eyes as she ignored what he said.

“It’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”

The memory of the man’s words burned as she shook her head. She couldn’t think of the past. Only the now.

He had more pressing things to worry about. Like his upcoming death.

“Gather around to see the Messiah!” 

The mocking tone was disgusting. He was the Messiah. They didn’t realize just how wrong they were. And here he was, subjecting himself to this entire farce just to spare them from eternal damnation.

Willing to be nailed to a cross for them to sit and mock him. But this was all a part of the ritual. And she would bear witness.

So the woman watched it all. Saw the Romans strip the man bare, others fighting over his clothes when they were tossed aside. Listened as Jesus pleaded for their Father to forgive them for the transgressions. She thought it was fruitless.

Didn’t avert her gaze when they nailed Jesus to the cross. Then the two thieves.

Felt her stomach turn when the mob cheered as he was raised up, hands and feet pinned to the wood, blood pouring from his piercings and soaking his posts. 

She felt like turning away in shame.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be him.

Seeing Emmanuel-Jesus- up there was too much to bear. Not because of the barbaric view of it all, she had seen much worse. Certainly caused and contributed to far more grotesque violence.

But because it was supposed to be her up on that cross.

She was commanded to be the savior of humanity. A role that she initially felt honored and privileged to have. One she prepared for eons and eons. All of the angels had their roles in their Father’s plan. 

Emmanuel. The Keeper. He was supposed to be the one to hold all of them in line as the eldest.

Michael. The Warrior. He would be the sword of God to exact his wrath and justice upon the evil of Humanity.

Raphael. The Healer. He treated the garrison of Heaven and the holiest humans on Earth.

Gabriel. The Messenger. He announced their Father’s will to humanity.

And her. The Supposed Champion for Humanity. The one to save them from themselves. 

She carried the mantle with pride. Then reality started to set in.

The sacrifice. The torment and torture. Her future was extremely bleak and what she would give up was far greater than anything in the universe. Michael always spared a moment to let her know the agony she would endure. She would be born as a girl of the world, much like her brother now. But where he was only mocked and ridiculed for his beliefs, she would be ostracized and sold out for her sex on top of trying to minister to the masses.

A deep rooted resentment began to form in her. Some of her brothers were sympathetic to her pain but none of them understood it to her great frustration. They never could when their father gave them much more…manageable responsibilities.

“S-Sister.”

He spoke the language of angels. Words only a few knew. She heard the call of her familiar title but didn’t move a muscle. Of course he would know she was there. Her and the human Emmanuel weren’t as close as they had been before but she still cared about her elder brother. The others couldn’t be here and it wasn’t right for him to die alone without some sort of family.

“Lu…ci-”

“Stop it,” she hissed out.

A man stared at her with a confused expression but she simply pulled her veil further over her face to conceal her identity. Not like anyone would know her anyways. But the sharp tone would definitely cause a second glance. So she pretended to take in the audience. All of them gave off strong and varying emotions that it was a bit hard for her to focus on anything.

The Marys were gathered together, not sure where one began and the other ended, distraught sobbing as they held one another.

His disciples were nowhere to be found, though to no surprise. They’re only human and humans are weak willed. Judas didn’t take much whispering in his ear to betray Jesus and as soon as the act was carried out, he killed himself in shame.

Pathetic.

She did imagine she’d be seeing the rest scattered amongst the crowd, cowering away from the fate of their shepherd but not a soul of them were to be seen. None except John, the man closest to the front. Jesus’ most ferocious and loyal supporter. It was obvious he wanted nothing more than to tear him down, to protect his leader from this fate but he stayed his hands. He believed in the plan and she admired him for it. She also thought he was an idiot but this was their life to live. He’d be rewarded nonetheless. Not like the priests.

With the smile of contentment on their wicked faces, their heretic paying for his so-called crimes.

And her? All she wanted to do was walk away. She had no interest in staying until Jesus died, not when her own death kept flashing in her mind.

“Sister. Hear me.”

To everyone, the man on the cross was groaning incoherently as he slowly perished, the others, yelling out their distress and trying in vain to pull themselves off. But Jesus-he was brave and emotionless in the face of his demise, no attempts to leave at all.

But she knew the truth.

“Lucifer I’m scared.”

She casted her eyes towards the man. Through the throngs, he locked gazes with her, revealing his true feelings.

“It hurts.”

Of course it did and she didn’t blame him for being afraid. She had always known what was coming and that’s why she tried multiple times to warn him. Humanity wasn’t worth the pain. She had seen first hand how depraved and awful they were. There wasn’t but a handful of them that were worth the effort and they would be fine without his death. Without him being a lamb to slaughter on an altar built by their own father.

It was completely unnecessary. Suffering just to suffer.

“You are a fool,” was her simple statement, spoken barely above a whisper.

The same words she gave him every time they met.

Whispered in his ears as a small baby, tucked in his sleeping mother’s arms.

In the wilderness when he fasted.

When he was almost arrested.

And when she left Heaven, never to return again. The day he declared that he would take her spot as the Sacrifice. The day he begged for her to reconsider leaving. That he would speak to their father and allow him to take her place so she could stay with their family.

“Emmanuel it’s not too late,” Lucifer whispered. “You can come down. You don’t have to do this for them.”

The man cast his head.

“Please don’t leave me.”

A most simple and broken plea.

And she didn’t. She stayed right there as her brother spoke to one of the thieves next to him, very clearly sympathetic to his circumstances. His words were strong and unwavering despite the pain his mortal body was in, Lucifer holding her attention to the interaction. Even when nailed to the cross he still was trying to save as many souls as he could.

It made her wonder if this was their Father’s plan all along. He was all-knowing so perhaps he knew she was never going to be The Sacrifice. That she was fated to be The Devil instead.

And it was a role she fully embraced. Corrupting humans and helping them indulge in their worst instincts was a riveting endeavor for Lucifer. Of course she knew what her fate would be once it was time for war but she was perfectly fine with that. At the very least she would deserve her destruction. 

Emmanuel was always the more forgiving and loving of the five so it makes sense that he was the one to assume her place. Just a shame that it had to be this way.

“What’s going on?”

Lucifer glanced up at the sky at the question from a nearby child, staring directly into the sun. Despite it only being midday, darkness started to fall over the land, the crowd dimming into murmurs. Some of them started falling to their knees to pray, the soldiers and priests worried that they’re losing the people. A fact that they were. As the time continued to pass, she could see their hearts shift and change. They were afraid that they made the wrong decision in watching his crucifixion. Participating in his punishment. Reveling in the suffering of a man.

But she could see Jesus’ heart too. Burning bright in the darkness of the world. He was suffering. He was hurting. Despite it, he wouldn’t abandon them. He’d never. Couldn’t even think about dying without making sure he was taking care of everyone.

John was instructed to look at his earthly mother. A responsibility he would hold and maintain for the rest of his days. Also told him to forgive Peter and the others for their pusillanimity. She could see him protest but ultimately he acquiesced. Jesus was pleased that he submitted without much debate. Probably wished she was just as simple to heel. Would make his attempts to fix her easier.

Because like when Lucifer fell, he still tried to redeem her by taking her place. Tried to make things right and put them back together. Reunite their family. He was willing to lay down his life not only for humanity but for her too. Too bad his sacrifice wouldn’t work for her.

It was appreciated nonetheless.

“Lucifer?”

A weary gaze cut through dozens of people to land on the woman. Jesus looked directly at her. His brown eyes were dulling. She could tell the effort to talk was too much and she moved through the crowd to come closer to the dying man.

“Speak.”

It was unsettling to see him in this condition. To not see a warm smile on his face and a sparkling glint in his eyes. So devoid of life.

“I understand you now. Understand why you turned away from this.”

A sickening ache washed over Lucifer. Of course he’d reach enlightenment as the end neared.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you shouldn’t have been made to carry this alone.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and decided to focus on the steady stream of blood dripping from the posts. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Make your final statements Jesus of Nazareth.”

He shook his head and took in a shaky breath.

“My God!” he cried out, pulling at his restraints and causing even more blood to pour. “My God, why have you forsaken me?”

His voice was ripping and raw as he yelled, words eventually drying up on his tongue.

Lucifer wasn’t the praying type but she was willing to beg and plead to their Father to end this sooner rather than later. The point was made. His blood was shed and humanity had a chance at salvation. This could be over. So why wasn’t it?

She was willing to yank him down herself and let him die with some semblance of dignity. But something held her back. The knowledge if she did, all of his efforts-all that Jesus and Emmanuel did up to this point-would be in vain.

“I’m thirsty.”

One of the elders from before stepped up to offer up a drink but Lucifer brushed her aside, heading to one of the soldiers and taking the skin of vinegar wine from him before approaching the cross holding the Messiah.

She carefully climbed up the platform, reached for Jesus’ face and helped him drink. He gagged on the vile concoction when he had his fill and she pulled it away. Up close, she could really take him in. Paling from the blood loss, his skin clammy. Gone was that beautiful creature. But he would be reborn soon enough and would never have to feel this horror again.

“It is Finished.”

He gave her a tired and appreciative gaze.

“It is Finished.”

She wiped his mouth of sour and copper before he bowed his head. Lucifer then began her descent down, tossing the container aside.

When her feet touched the ground, the earth began to shake. The people all started to panic and look at one another in fear.

"Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!" Jesus announced with the last tendrils of his strength.

Lucifer closed her eyes as she recognized the activity.

“Thank you Dear Sister. And I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

With that, Jesus: The Son of God. Carpenter of Nazareth. 

The Savior of Humanity was dead.

Her Replacement. 

In a few days he would rise again. The perfect being he already was. Jesus would be Emmanuel once more and with that would begin the end of her.

As Lucifer walked away from the site, she shook her head and wiped the single tear that fell from her eye.

It should’ve been her. 

A demand to die for the damned was her calling.

But she had a new destiny now.