His cursed dreams - 2

[In Morpheous's dream]

'Clank!'

A sword was flung in his direction which landed inches away from his foot.

"Pick it up!" roared his father.

His hands trembled as he picked up the rusted sword, clasping on onto its hilt. But the moment he wrapped both his hands around that hilt, the entire sword scintillated with a faint glow like it was being refurbished again. Words of gold got etched into it - 'In the end, only the chosen one shall prevail.' A strange magic pulsed through his body, humming through his veins, something invigorating yet alien to him.

He dropped the sword immediately, unable to get what sorcery was happening around him.

"See father! I told you. He has a monster within." He heard the accusing voice of his older brother Nubeous and immediately turned toward his father only to find a defeated look on his face.

"Father trust me, I do not possess these powers. I do not know how… I am a healer. You know that right? You believe in me right? I don't know what is happening. I have nothing to do with ..."

"You liar!" The voice of his father echoed like a clap of thunder.

'Boom'

In a fraction of a second, before he could finish his sentence, a light perched up in the sky, and there was a noise of murderous thunder. It was no ordinary light, for it was the bolt of death cast by his father that had struck him.

"Father!" he uttered in disbelief before the pain consumed him.

"Arggghhhh..."

He screamed in pain as his wings started to burn. But more than the pain of the burn, he was hurting because his own father chose to distrust him.

His deafening cry echoed in the universe and the sky which was lit up by the brilliant gold of the sun turned grim. The air started howling in the tone of melancholy. Dark clouds scattered all around, hiding the face of the sun.

"Cast him away father, for in heaven we have no place for evil!" yelled his second brother, Oberon.

He knelt in pain and turned towards his brothers for mercy, wanting to explain them that they have it all wrong. But in the next second he felt as if his entire body was being hurled into an astral dimension.

His body was spinning continuously and his eyes couldn't even trace the path that he was treading, but then all of a sudden everything stopped and a gut-wrenching pain started in his lower abdomen as if a sear had pierced through it.

.

.

"Come on. Pass the ball. Hit it!"

"Haiyaaaahhh!"

He woke up from his nightmare, upon hearing the screams of children playing in the adjacent park. His hands immediately clutched his abdomen, which was perfectly fine. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he looked around and realized that he had been sleeping for hours.

The rain had stopped and the sky had been lit with a hue of reddish-orange, ready to swallow the sun. Getting up, he looked at the sky, his eyes pleading, as if he was begging someone to rescue him.

'How could you? How could you father!'

He mumbled and started walking ahead, his eyes again muddled with tears. He had no idea what he was supposed to do or how to escape from this place.  Earth had become a purgatory for him.

"Bam!"

"Watch out dude!" yelled a man with whom he collided.

But before he could open his mouth to apologize, he saw his sin count increase.

10997452188715

'So it's not just her!' he mumbled to himself and walked towards the intersection where there were a few shops and a mall. His eyes traversed up and saw a film poster on display -

"Angels and Demons"

A short breath pursed through his lips.

'How Ironic?'

But was it a message from God or his fate mocking him? There was no way to know. Crossing the road, he went inside a mall, wanting to check his back.

Averting the gaze of people he quickly went inside the washroom and patiently waited for all the humans to leave the stalls, and when they did he latched the door. His fingers rushed to open the knot of the shirt, and he turned his back towards the mirror.

Craning his neck, he saw the two distinctive curved scars on his back, the root of his wings. His angel wings. His fingers curled in a fist in anger and despair. But what he couldn't understand was why he got a scar because given that he was an angel, he was supposed to heal back, just as his abdomen had healed.

But then, his father had burned his wings with the bolt of death. A fire that no power of the universe could douse. A weapon that only his father could yield. 

"What am I supposed to do here?"

"How am I supposed to prove to you that I was not at fault father?"

"Can you even hear me?"

His desperate outcry echoed within the empty stalls of the washroom. His vulnerability made him unknowingly flex his shoulders, wanting to flap open his wings that didn't even exist. 

Broken in despair, he leaned on the sink and ran the tap. But before he could splash the water on his face, he felt as if someone was etching words on his back. He turned back and saw a writing revealing slowly in his reflection.

"The sinner can seeth nay heaven."

He read and re-read it again before the faint blue ink vanished into the thin air.

"Knock Knock!"

"Knock!"

"Hey! Who is inside? Open the door!"

Hearing the voice outside, he quickly put his shirt back on and opened the door.

"What the hell man? Why would you lock it from inside."

"I am sorry, I did by mistake!" Apologizing, he left the bathroom and came out of the mall. He looked around and saw people chattering and walking happily but his mind was occupied with what he had read. 

Who was that message from?

'How can I get rid of this bad karma? How can I become sinless?'

'Thulp! Thulp!'

"Oh! Oh! My apples!" sighed an old man in front of him. The weight of the apples was too much for the paper bag that he had been carrying the apples in. So the old man quickly bent down to stop the apples from rolling down the pavement, but suddenly stopped midway and clutched onto his left arm as if in pain.

He was about to collapse but Morpheous rushed towards him and so did a few others, and he caught him before he could hit the pavement.

Since he clutched onto his left arm before collapsing, Morpheous knew exactly what was wrong with him. Kneeling down, he immediately lifted his head and placed it on his thigh, and rested his right palm over his chest - 'A coronary blockage', he mumbled to himself.

"Hello 911?" another passer-by made a call.

But Morpheous's healing touch set him all right in no time, and that old man slowly opened his eyes, as if he was waking up from a deep slumber.

"Yes. What is the issue?" asked the operator.

"Err… nothing. Looks like the man is OK." The passerby replied in confusion.

Morpheous placed his index and middle finger on his pulse to check for any erratic rhythm. But he seemed fine.

"Are you feeling OK?" Morpheous asked.

"Yes, thank you!" the old man said and propped himself up and looking at him, with grateful eyes, he said - "Wooh. Look at that. Must be some head rush. Thank you for saving me, son!"

"It was nothing!" he replied and helped him stand up and then dusted his palm and clothes before bending down to pick the fallen apples. Just when he was about to pick up the last apple, he saw his sin count etched on the pavement.

Only this time, the number had reduced.

A smile etched on his face.

He had found his way back to heaven!