Page 1 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Angel

It’s quiet. Not a sound reaches me in this place where I stand, and the air around me is so dense I feel like I could grab it. Like I could tear a chunk right out from in front of me, and when I open my palm, a piece of it would lie there.

I stare at two vastly different paths in front of me leading in opposite directions.

Squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, I try to wrack my memory for any clue as to how I came to be here. Anything to explain this phantom ache in my chest. It twinges and pierces deep, spreading out like shockwaves after a bomb.

I rub at it to lessen the menacing pain, and when I take another breath, flooding my lungs with this thick air, red flashes behind my eyes.

I can hear myself screaming, feel the terror grip me from the inside out. First my bones, then my blood, and finally my heart. It beats, beats, beats, until suddenly it stops all together.

My eyes flit open as if the choppy pieces of memory were nothing but a bad dream, then study the scene before me.

To the right lies a path surrounded by loose trees where the sun filters through the gaps.

Flowers bloom brilliantly and I can even smell their sweet scent.

The trail is covered in a thin patch of grass blanketing any dirt or mud.

Delicate whites and luscious pinks burst in patches against the vibrant green hues of the leaves.

On my left lies a darker path.

Branches entwine together creating a canopy overhead like an arched tunnel.

There are no leaves or flowers, no greens or pinks or whites.

Even the tree trunks are grey rather than a rich brown.

There’s such a void of light, it’s hard to see past a few feet ahead.

Roots, rotten and decayed, jut from the ground like the dead digging their way out from their graves.

A waft of algae, fungus, and perhaps death itself hangs heavily near the opening of the path, a very clear and distinct warning.

There is no turning back.

Behind me is a void of nothingness.

Just a vast empty space to lose yourself in and it’s even more unappealing than the dark, foreboding forest.

So, it seems I have two choices – right or left, light or dark, perhaps good or evil.

Hesitantly, I choose the most obvious path.

As I move forward, the soft, lush ground sinks beneath my feet.

In any other circumstance, I would yearn to press my toes into the earth, letting the blades of grass brush gently against them.

Despite the ethereal landscape that surrounds me, a dark thought niggles in the back of my mind, stealing my attention from the lush, leafy bushes I walk between.

The word death lingers there somewhere, weighing me down with a hefty nervousness.

While my thoughts reel, I subconsciously stretch an arm out and run my hand along their leaves, letting them tickle my palm.

The harder I try to focus on my last memories, the farther they seem to escape me.

As if the deeper I travel down this path, the less I seem to recall… or feel for that matter.

What was initially a sense of terror has slowly turned into a burning curiosity.

Where the hell am I?

I continue to walk for what seems like forever, yet my feet never ache, and I don’t grow tired of the journey.

The leaves become greener and brighter than before while the flowers change colors every few steps.

It’s like strolling through the inside of a kaleidoscope with an ever-present mesmerizing view.

The farther I get from where I started, I begin to notice a change in the air.

Here it’s crisp, so fresh that I find myself taking full, greedy breaths.

I fill my lungs until they expand so painfully, only I don’t feel the pain.

How odd.

To not feel pain where pain is expected. No, my lungs just merely refuse to hold any more air.

At some point, the path widens and the grass fades into a fine, white sand. The trees around me lessen becoming few and far between and shortly ahead, I can see a sleek, metal gate that marks the end of this road.

My gaze travels up the black, iron bars towering tall above me and topped with sharp spikes flaunting all the warning of a spear in battle.

With a strong grip, I wrap my fist around one of the posts and yank, causing the gate to rattle. It barely even moves.

“Come on!”

I groan, blowing a tuft of my dark hair away from my eyes.

I look to the right and left of me, but the fence goes on for miles in either direction. Suddenly, I grow weary at the dead end I’ve reached, knowing there’s nowhere else to go.

With my fingers still curled around the metal, I rest my forehead in the space between the bars, pondering my options.

“Just press the call button.”

A deep, patronizing voice pierces the silence.

Startled, I jump and spin in place to face a stranger. The first person I’ve seen all day.

Deep blue eyes set beneath thick lashes and trimmed dark brows glare down at me.

With a lack of self-control, I find myself studying his impeccable features: the straight and slender nose, the amused smirk gracing his full lips, and a jaw – sharp enough to cut, shadowed by dark stubble.

Unashamed, he studies me back.

His penetrating stare and cocked eyebrow seem to remind me that I’ve yet to say anything to him.

I snap my eyes shut, wishing I can erase the embarrassingly long time I took admiring his face.

“You just press it,”

he explains teasingly.

When I open my eyes again, he points to the left of the gate at a small black box with a single red button on it.

“Right.”

I stretch my hand out, but before I hit the button, I turn to him.

“This might sound insane, but… where are we?”

He quirks a brow and combs an inked hand through his dark hair.

“Heaven, Angel.”

Rolling my eyes, I let out an amused scoff. “Right.”

He smirks, now crossing his arms over his chest as he presses me with his stare, urging me to get on with it.

“So, you’re really not going to tell me, then?”

With a hesitant finger, I push the button, triggering the gate to slowly crawl open.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

He stretches out his arm, gesturing me through.

“After you.”

I push past him and strut forward, but then realize I have no idea where I am going. Looking behind me, I expect to find him trailing along, but he’s already headed in a different direction.

“Wait!”

I call after him, jogging to catch up.

“Briar. My name.”

I pause for a moment to take a breath.

“My name is Briar.”

Botched it.

“Okay, Briar.”

There’s that smirk again. Maybe if he stopped doing that, I’d be able to focus on my own thoughts enough to speak like a normal human being.

His pace picks up as he walks ahead of me.

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

I ask as I try to match his stride.

“No.”

Huh. Okay then...

“Rude.”

“Trust me, you don’t want it.”

“Okay, stranger.

Where am I supposed to go?”

He nudges his chin behind me toward a building with an overly large banner deeming it the Welcome Center.

Before I can turn back around to thank him, he’s disappeared.

I climb the steps to an old, off-white colonial building with a roof that’s held up by four large pillars.

Then, yank open the heavy, navy-blue door. Its hinges are much quieter than I expect. Although, to hell with expectations because I still have no idea where I am.

Inside is an empty, well-lit foyer with white marble flooring and a reception desk at the back of the room.

It's stationed in front of colorful stained-glass windows that allow the natural light to leak through in just the right amount.

On the desk is a bell that sits directly in the center.

There’s no chair or computer, no paperwork... just a bell.

I listen to hear any sign of other people, but I’m met with a stifling silence.

This building looks like it should have folks bustling around, bumping into one another in a rush to get things done. Only, there’s not a soul in sight.

So, I do what my gut tells me to do and ring the bell.

The sound chimes loudly, echoing against the walls and glistening floors. Spinning on my heels, I follow the noise to the front of the building and wonder if I will see anyone descend the stairs to the right.

No one.

Not a sound.

“What the he?—”

“Not Hell.”

A chirpy little voice startles me.

Shocked by yet another person appearing out of nowhere today, I jump at her words, twirling back around to face the desk.

A middle-aged woman stands in a powder blue power suit that matches her eyes, and her blonde hair is coifed high into a tight bun. Her smile, framed by flawless teeth, makes her seem like a piece of living art.

A part of me wants to reach out to touch her, to see if she’s real, but I’ve hit my strange quota for the day. Instead, I smile back at her.

“Welcome, Briar. We’ve been expecting you.”

Her cheeks remain firmly dimpled with her stretched grin that hasn’t budged.

“How do you know my name? Who’s we? Where am I?”

I question, looking around the ginormous empty building.

“You’ve reached the gates of Heaven. I’m Magdelena, Senior Secretary.”

So, the stranger wasn’t joking...

Out of thin air a chair appears behind me and of its own accord, squeals along the floor, hitting the back of my knees to nudge me into sitting.

“What the he?—”

“Not Hell, Briar. Heaven,”

the woman corrects again, then gestures for me to take a seat as she does the same with another chair that’s appeared behind her.

This has to be a dream. One of the weirdest I’ve ever had.

“Sooooo, I’m dead?”

“Yes.”

“Well, at least I made it into Heaven,” I mutter.

“You made it to the gate. There are still a few more things to do before you are accepted.”

I startle as a computer pops up on her desk and she begins to type away as if this is an average thing that happens all the time.

“Do I have to make an appointment with God or something?”

Her eyes snap to mine, and the corner of her lips twitch just the slightest.

“No. God is too busy to greet every single person that makes it to the gate. I’ll be asking you a few questions and your answers will determine your penance and length of time to pay it off to stay in Heaven for the rest of your existence.”

“Well shit, I make it to the gates of Heaven, and I don’t even get to meet God.” I scoff.

“I’ll warn you now, cursing isn’t tolerated in Heaven. Here we appreciate a utopian atmosphere and words like Hell and S-H-I-T make the others uncomfortable. You wouldn’t want to be uncomfortable in your afterlife, would you?”

I pinch my lips from spewing out words I can’t take back, especially now that I’m about to get judged for my time alive. Instead, I just shake my head and let her continue.

“Great.”

She flashes her abnormally perfect teeth.

“We’ll start with the basics – full name, birthdate, parents, religious affiliation.”

“Uh, Briar Wren Fenton. Born on March 13, 1997. Mother is Gyllian Sanderson, and father is Bryan Fenton. I guess we’re religious. We went to church and shi—stuff. Prayed. The whole nine yards.” I shrug.

“Which God did you pray to?”

she asks, while glasses that weren’t on her face before now slide down her nose.

“I don’t know. THE God, I guess. Is there more than one God?”

“Yes. Depending on which God you worshiped while you were alive is the God that you will know in the afterlife.”

“Jesus, then. He’s technically God, right?”

“In your terms, yes. I’ll add him to your file.”

I’m not even sure what that means, in my terms. What other terms are there? How many Gods exist? After a few clicks of her mouse, she moves on to the next part of the test.

“Describe your devotion to your God while you were alive.”

I wrack my brain, trying to remember all the religious aspects of my life. We didn’t heavily worship. It was mostly to appease my grandmother who was more suited for Heaven. I wonder if I’ll see her.

“I was baptized, then went on to have my first communion and then my confirmation. When I was probably ten, I sang with our church’s choir. Obviously, every holiday, we started with a service before celebrating. You know – that kind of devotion.”

“How many times have you made a confession?”

“I don’t remember,” I answer.

Honestly, I may have confessed once or twice when I was younger after lying to my mom about something as silly as completing my homework when it wasn’t done. After that? Jeez, I can’t say that I have.

“Okay, then when was the last time?”

“Hmmm...”

I tap my chin with my finger.

Losing patience, she answers for me.

“Eight. Right after your first communion.”

My jaw drops, like the screws holding it together have fallen out.

“How do you know that?”

“We have everything on record.”

“Then why bother asking me all these questions?”

“To see if you can take accountability for your actions during the period in which you were alive.”

Great, this is so much fun.

“What are your greatest sins?”

“Oh! Um... I mean, I’ve lied a few times?—”

“2,487 times.”

Oh boy.

“Does that include, like, omission?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’ve had premarital sex,”

I offer, knowing that’s a big one.

“97 times with 3 different partners.”

“Two of those were committed relationships.”

I mention as if it excuses the fact that it’s still a sin.

“Drunkenness, pride, arrogance,”

she rambles on.

“Okay, so I’m not perfect. Who is?”

“The 250 Saints that have devoted their life to carrying out God’s will.”

“I wasn’t really asking,”

I grumble.

“Am I failing? Should I just give up now?”

“Failing? There is no failing. Heaven is a choice. If you wish to live out your eternity with God and his followers, then all you need to do is repent for your sins. Ask for forgiveness and it shall be given.”

“What if I said I thought God was female?” I test.

Her facial features fall flat, staring at me with unamused eyes.

“Not funny. Got it,” I mumble.

“Last part before we send you to repent,”

she continues.

“Describe a time in which you were most selfless.”

My fingers tap my bare knee as I try to shuffle through my memories. To be honest, the images are all distorted, like looking through a frosted glass bottle. I know in my gut that I had been selfless at times. I wasn’t a bad person, but I can’t recall anything specific.

“I don’t... I can’t remember much,” I admit.

Those glowing cerulean eyes soften.

“That will happen. The longer you’re here, the farther your life slips away. Memories might come and go, but only the good ones.”

The sound of that frightened me, all that time on Earth now means nothing. The people I met, loved, and learned from all fade into an abyss as if they never happened. All those experiences and places I visited, wiped clean. The only thing that lingers is what each piece left behind, sticking to my soul.

“Do you remember the countless times you comforted your mother, or sacrificed something of yours to help her in a time of need? Perhaps the moment you realized you would put aside your life to take care of her while she was sick?”

I flinch as clouded memories of my mother flash behind my eyes. My beautiful, sick mother. She’s there one moment with me, gone the next, fading along with everything else in my past.

I gnaw my bottom lip, and it seems Magdelena must realize that those were bittersweet memories for me, so she quickly changes the subject.

“So, this is how it works. You’ll head upstairs to the confessions office where you’ll meet with Saint Thomas. He’ll assign your penance. Then, you’ll face the judge and vow to repent, working off your sins to earn a blessed afterlife.”

The sound of paper printing to the left of her catches my attention. Page after page spits out and Magdelena catches each one. She stacks them nicely together, then staples them with a stapler that appears just as the printer and hands me the stack.

I take the thick packet, briefly looking through everything we discussed here, including an additional list of sins we never even spoke of. I groan, knowing that this will take forever to work off.

When I look back up to the woman, she’s standing there behind a blank desk, everything gone except for that silver bell. As soon as I leave the chair, that too vanishes.

“How did I die?”

I finally bring myself to ask, even though a part of me still believes I’m dreaming.

“You’ll have to remember that on your own. We don’t talk about death here, just life after it. The stairs are just behind you to the right.”