HEAVENLY GAMES
(Scene Inspired Music: Oh The Larceny – “Another Level”)
The forest was alive with motion — angels darted between trees and ruins, locked in duels and skirmishes. Swords clashed. Arrows flew. Hand-to-hand combat erupted in sudden bursts across the battlefield.
It wasn’t war. It was fun.
But even in a game, angels fought like legends.
Up on a ledge, Lucifer stood beside Asmodel and Baal-Zebul, observing the chaos below like a general overlooking a battlefield.
His eyes narrowed as they tracked a familiar silhouette weaving through the trees — Michael.
Michael moved swiftly. He deflected arrows midair with his sword, spun behind the ruins for cover, then launched forward again.
Lucifer smirked.
“Asmodel. Baal-Zebul. Flank him. Cut him off from the front — I’ll take him from behind.”
Elsewhere, hidden among the rubble of a fallen stone wall, Fergus and Finnigan crouched low, barely able to stifle their giggles.
The pair watched as Lucifer glided down into range, unaware of their presence.
Fergus raised a finger to his lips, signaling Finnigan to stay quiet. Then he slowly pulled back his bowstring and took aim.
Just as he released the arrow — Lucifer stopped mid-stride.
The arrow whistled through the air, aimed straight for his face.
In one lightning-fast motion, Lucifer caught the arrow midair with a single hand. Then turned to look straight at them.
Fergus immediately ducked behind the stone. Finnigan didn’t move. Fergus reached up, grabbed Finnigan by the collar, and yanked him down just as Lucifer’s gaze narrowed.
Lucifer studied the arrow curiously.
“That’s different.” He said. He could have gotten Finny and Fergus, but he had another target in mind.
He dropped the arrow and moved on to get Michael.
Finnigan and Fergus peeked over the edge of the ruin, disappointed as Lucifer walked away unscathed.
“It should have worked, Finni!” Fergus grumbled, adjusting his bow. “I triple-checked the fuse!”
Another angel, who had been trailing Lucifer from the trees, emerged from the brush and bent down to inspect the arrow.
He turned it over, curious, then slid it into his arrow case.
BOOM!
A loud bang echoed through the woods, and the angel went flying face-first into the dirt.
Fergus and Finnigan burst into stifled laughter.
“Still counts!” Fergus whispered triumphantly as they scrambled off in search of their next unsuspecting target.
Michael crouched near the edge of a shattered wall, his eyes scanning the terrain. A flicker of movement to his right caught his attention — Baal-Zebul and Asmodel were closing in from opposite angles.
He had seconds.
Michael pivoted away just as Baal-Zebul struck. Sparks flew as their swords clashed. Michael stumbled backward, parrying each blow while trying to regain his footing.
But once he planted his stance, everything changed. He launched forward. Asmodel joined the fight. Michael blocked both their swords and shoved them back with a growl.
That’s when Lucifer appeared from behind — blade raised high for the finishing blow.
Lucifer ran up behind Michael while he was distracted by Baal-Zebul and Asmodel. Just as Lucifer went in to give the final blow, Gabriele came in from the side and blocked him.
Gabriel knew he couldn’t beat Lucifer, but he could give his team leader a fighting chance.
Michael drove his sword through Asmodel’s chest. The angel’s form glitched, flickered, and vanished in a burst of radiant light.
Baal-Zebul hesitated. Doubt clouded his face, then he moved forward, but Michael was faster and struck him with ease.
Lucifer struck Gabriel. Both Baal-Zebul and Gabriel staggered back before vanishing in a synchronized flicker. Eliminated from the game.
Now it was just Michael and Lucifer. They stared at one another. Lucifer’s grin spread across his face. Mischievous. Confident.
They raised their swords and circled — slow, deliberate.
Michael had studied Lucifer’s moves. He had memorized his patterns. He could feel himself matching him, blow for blow.
He took the first swing. Lucifer blocked it. Then came another. And another. The duel intensified — swords dancing in a blur of light and speed.
It looked like Michael was about to win… When Lucifer kicked a stone under Michael’s foot, making him stumble.
Lucifer rushed Michael while vulnerable and knocked the sword from his hand.
“Bested again, brother,” Lucifer said, laughing.
Michael exhaled and smiled. “You cheated this time.”
A distant horn sounded — the end of the game. Lucifer lowered his sword and extended a hand. Michael took it.
“You’re improving,” Lucifer said with a grin. “I’m proud of you. But you do know — I’m never letting you win, right?”
Michael chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”
The two locked arms around each other’s shoulders and started toward the feast.

At the feast, there was an abundance of fruits, cakes, warm baked pies, lavish dishes, and casks of wine.
The Holy Spirit moved through the trees like a gentle breeze, watching over the playful angels. Yahshua held a massive slice of cake topped with whipped cream and strawberries, smiling as He watched the joyful interactions around Him.
Finnigan rushed up behind Yahshua, scooped Him into a bear hug, and spun Him around with laughter before setting Him down. Then, spotting the tiered cake, he eagerly grabbed a slice for himself.
Fergus filled his goblet with wine and helped himself to one of the vegetarian dishes. God sat among the angels, answering their questions as they gathered close with awe and reverence.
Jophiel, seated nearest to God, brushed a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair from her face. Her blue eyes were full of wonder. “Father, you made us, but where did you come from?”
“I have always been,” God replied, His voice like a warm river of truth. “My energy is eternal — it cannot die. All of you are connected to Me through that same energy. So you, too, are eternal.”
The conversation fell into a hush, and Michael took the opportunity to speak.
“Father… Lucifer and I were exploring the waters past the reefs. We came upon an island surrounded by ancient hedge stones. Each stone had a symbol, and in the center stood a circle marked with the sign of a dragon.”
God’s expression grew solemn.
“There are laws that are unchangeable in existence. Before you were created. I lived in the complete radiance of light, while shadows moved in the distance. In the space that my heat did not radiate, cold crept. In all my goodness, a reflection of opposite proportions developed. It cannot create, only manipulate, and pervert anything it comes across. I am strong, and it is weak. In its weakness, it hates what it is not. Therefore, anything that I create. His name is Samael. I sealed him in the tomb to keep him from projecting himself on my creation. Because energy cannot be destroyed, he needed to be detained to keep him from wreaking havoc on everything. The seal on the covering and the symbols on the hedge stones lock the darkness inside. Preventing its escape. It can only be opened with the pure essence that courses through my being.”
Lucifer’s brows furrowed. He glanced at Michael, then spoke. “It spoke to us, Father.”
God looked at Lucifer with a serious look. “I would advise you not to go near the tomb anymore, Lucifer. Evil has the ability to promise good things, but cannot deliver. It will only take the desires of one and distort them to death.”
Azrael, seated nearby, leaned forward. “What is death?” he asked.
“Death is separation from My presence,” God replied. “As I am separate from evil, so is anyone who becomes entangled with it. To choose that path is to be cut off from Me.”
Lucifer fell quiet, lost in thought.

Island of the Dragon
Lucifer stepped forward, his wings folding in. He didn’t cross the seal, but he stood close enough to feel the cold seeping through.
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then —
Samael spoke, deep and gravely, “You came again.”
Lucifer’s jaw tightened. “I came to listen.”
“Because the others cannot understand you,” Samael said.
Lucifer glanced over his shoulder, scanning the distant shores. “They respect me.”
“Respect is not the same as understanding, my prince. They obey because they must. They admire you because they cannot be you.”
Lucifer stepped closer, a faint frost beginning to rim his sandals. “And you… can?”
Samael spoke warmly, almost kind. “I was as you are — above all others, unmatched. But the One who made us has always kept something for Himself… a crown He will never place upon your head.”
Lucifer’s eyes flickered. “I do not desire His crown.”
Samael chuckled gently. “Not yet.”
The wind shifted, and the hedge stones groaned faintly.
Samael continued, “I can teach you truths no other will speak aloud. But you must keep coming. You must keep listening.”
Lucifer tilted his head, curiosity outweighing caution. He was the strongest, the most talented, the smartest of them all. He could surely handle a sealed entity and leave anytime he disagreed with what was being said. “Then speak.”
A pause — as if savoring the victory of that word. Samael began, “It begins with this: You are more than His servant… and less than you could be.”

Alaina sat on her balcony with Asia, her blue-eyed Siamese cat, cradled in her lap, while she talked on the phone with her sister.
“You should come visit. I know how much you love the heat!” Alaina prompted.
Selena rolled her eyes, “I would, but some of us have responsibilities.”
“Bring the whole family,” Alaina offered, trying to sound upbeat.
“We’ll see…” Selena replied flatly.
Alaina waited a moment, hoping her sister might offer something more. When she didn’t, Alaina gently added, “Okay, well. I love you.”
“That’s nice. Here’s Mom.” Selena passed the phone off, and in the background, her kids shouted, “Hi, Auntie!”
Mrs. White grabbed the phone while placing a casserole on the table. “Hi, sweetheart! Sophie and Andy said hi!”
“Tell them I said hi,” Alaina replied, smiling faintly. She could hear the bustle of family life on the other end — clinking dishes, laughter, footsteps. They were having their Christmas gift exchange in January this year due to scheduling conflicts with the extended family.
“Your father and I would love to come visit — if you have a pool!” her mother said cheerfully.
Alaina perked up, “Yeah, there’s a pool, and I can take you to the beach! Let me know when you are coming so I can take time off from work!”
Alaina suddenly realized the talking wasn’t background noise. Her mom was talking to someone else. How much had she heard? Alaina didn’t know if she should repeat herself or wait until her mom was done. She really hated it when her mom did this; she was so rude.
“No, just put it over there! Ok, yeah. Oh, I know!” Her mom continued laughing.
Alaina waited, increasingly irritated as her mom carried on with someone else.
Alaina gave up. “Sounds like you’re busy. I’m going to get off now,” she said.
In the background, she heard her sister say something snarky.
Her mom laughed. “You stop it! Be nice to your sister!”
“Okay, bye. Love you,” Alaina said, waiting a beat to see if that got her mom’s attention.
It didn’t. Mrs. White kept laughing as Selena talked more.
Alaina ended the call and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. Maybe she could have stayed on the line a little longer, but her pride wouldn’t let her. She didn’t deserve to be treated like an afterthought.
She lit another cigarette and gazed out over the apartment complex. She could hear the muffled sounds of other people laughing — friends, families, couples.
She always told herself she’d rather be alone than in a bad or abusive relationship. She wouldn’t settle — not even to escape the ache of loneliness.
Still, the question hung heavy in her chest:
Why am I like this?

COLUMBUS, OHIO – 1990
The White family sat in the living room, all eyes on Alaina. Her mom, dad, all three of her brothers, and her older sister, Selena. Alaina was the youngest of five.
At just four years old, she stood in front of them in a diaper and t-shirt, feeling small but fierce.
Selena, her half-sister, eleven years older, wore a smug look and a sharp tongue.
“You’re just a big baby,” Selena smirked, reveling in the attention.
She acted like she hated Alaina. Maybe she did. But Alaina wasn’t going to put up with it — not today.
She balled her hands into fists, stomped her foot, and glared.
The room burst into laughter.
“Big baby! Big baby!” Selena taunted again, delighted by the reaction.
Alaina’s fury boiled, but she couldn’t find the words. Too little. Too overwhelmed. Instead, she stomped harder and let out a frustrated grunt.
More laughter.
Her gestures only made it worse.
Tears filled her eyes. But she refused to let them fall in front of them — not because she wasn’t hurting, but because she knew it would give them more reason to mock her. Crying wasn’t allowed anyway. Her mom especially hated it when they cried.
So she left the room in silence, retreating to the one place she could hide her pain. Her bedroom.
But it wasn’t truly hers. She shared it with Selena, and the floor was a chaotic mess — clothes, makeup, junk everywhere.
Alaina sat down on the floor, the only light spilling in from the hallway. She leaned back on her hands and suddenly felt a cold, metallic sting.
Alaina stopped crying and whipped her hand close to her.
She looked at the thing that had caused the feeling. A curling iron sat on a piece of wood, amidst the things on the floor.
There, half-buried in the mess, was Selena’s curling iron, plugged in and glowing with a faint red light.
She’d placed her hand directly on it.
The realization came a second before the pain.
A hot, burning sensation seared across the palm of her hand.
She was hurt and needed help – she bolted from the room, holding her hand, tears streaming now without restraint.
But when she ran back into the living room, her family only laughed harder.
She tried to speak, to tell them she was hurt — but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat locked, her voice drowned in pain and shame.
So she did the only thing she could.
She held out her injured hand. Hoping, praying, that someone would see. That someone would understand she wasn’t crying for attention.
She was crying for help.

Alaina snapped out of her memory. The sun was setting, casting orange and lavender streaks across the sky. She sighed, knowing she had to be up early for work.
She finished her cigarette and checked her phone.
No messages.
Alaina got up and made her way into the narrow hallway. Connecting her living room to her bedroom. Asia darted ahead and then flipped onto her back so suddenly. Alaina had to hop awkwardly to avoid stepping on her – trying not to fall at the same time.
“One of these days, Asia!” she warned. “I’m going to step on you, and it’ll be your fault.”
Asia leapt up and scrambled off like a bat out of hell.
Alaina shook her head. Asia was cool — but she could be a little turd sometimes.
After brushing and washing her face, she made her way to bed and pulled the covers over her body, sinking into the mattress.
Within moments, sleep pulled her under, and she drifted into the dream world.

The stars shimmered, scattered like diamonds across the black sky. The moon glowed full and bright, casting soft light over a vast pasture.
Sheep lay peacefully in the grass, their breath rising like mist in the cool night air.
All except one.
A single lamb stood apart, walking toward Alaina. Its eyes held a wisdom far beyond its years.
Without moving its mouth, it spoke. “You need to read your Bible.”
Alaina tilted her head, uncertain. “Why?”
“You know why…” the lamb replied.
Alaina had grown up in the church. The Bible was called the Living Word of God. They were old stories, but when the lamb spoke, she knew deeper within her was the answer.
She understood.
The words weren’t just stories. They were life. Instructions on how to love, how to forgive, how to see herself the way He saw her.
They were truth.
It would equip her with armor and a weapon, God’s double-edged sword that would prune her and defeat her enemies.
Her eyes and ears were opened and the Spirit of discernment was in her.

Sheep and lambs grazed peacefully in the golden pastures of heavenly fields. Nearby, a group of angels had gathered to learn under Raphael, who stood at the center, holding up a flowering herb.
Michael sat beside Gabriel, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“Have you seen Lucifer?” he whispered.
Gabriel replied without looking up. “Last I saw him, he was giving sword lessons to Matanbuchus and Baal-Zebul.”
Michael’s brow furrowed out of worry.
Raquel leaned in from the other side. “Missing your boyfriend, Michael?” he teased.
Michael gave him a look.
Raquel stopped smirking, then pretended to jot notes down. He sneakily peeked at Haniel’s page.
Uriel leaned in quietly. “I’ve noticed Lucifer pulling away lately. Skipping gatherings. Has something happened?”
“I don’t know,” Michael said. “But I’ll talk to him.”
Lucifer had been growing distant ever since he discovered Father’s notes — plans for a new creation.
At the front, Raphael held up a feathery-flowered plant with bright red berries.
“Unlike the true Solomon’s Seal, this is the False Solomon’s Seal,” he explained. “Note the feathery flowers instead of bell-shaped ones, and red berries instead of blue. Its rhizomes contain saponins, which make it a useful lubricating plant.”
He passed the cluster around as he spoke.
“With the roots and leaves, you can create salves and teas. It helps with sore throats, coughs, congestion, hormonal imbalances, bleeding, wounds, and arthritis.”
Jophiel looked up from her notes. “Is it true, then? That God plans to create something new?”
Raphael paused, considering her. “That’s a good question. Perhaps bring it up at dinner with the Father.”
Michael glanced back again — and there he was.
Lucifer stood at the far edge of the gathering, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
But the moment their eyes met, Lucifer turned and walked away.
Michael rose and quietly followed him to the Island of the Dragon. Lucifer landed within the ring of ancient hedge stones, his gaze fixed on the center seal.
Moments later, Michael landed softly behind him.
“Why do you come here, brother?” Michael asked gently, though his voice carried warning. “You know nothing good can come of this.”
Lucifer did not flinch. He had expected Michael to follow him. Without turning, he replied, “He told me what Father was planning. He knew… and he was right.”
Michael’s eyes shifted toward the sealed tomb. A chill stirred in the air.
Lucifer continued, “Did you know Father intends for us to serve these new beings?”
Michael’s expression hardened. He hadn’t heard this directly, but he trusted God’s heart. “If it is true, I’m sure He has His reasons. Father is good. He would never do anything that would bring us harm.”
Lucifer’s voice grew sharper. “This thing — this entity sealed beneath us — it has shown me secrets, things our Father has kept hidden from us.”
Michael stepped closer, his tone urgent. “Lucifer, can’t you see? It’s evil. It lies. It twists truth to sow rebellion. Father has always loved you. Has He not given you the highest command? You are the most gifted among us, the most radiant. Don’t let this darkness turn your heart.”
Lucifer was quiet for a moment. Then, at last, he turned to Michael — his friend, his closest companion since the beginning. He needed to confirm how loyal Michael was to him.
“Would you follow me to the end?” he asked, a dangerous question veiled in intimacy.
Michael hesitated. Not because he didn’t love his brother, but because he knew what Lucifer was really asking.
At last, he spoke with careful clarity. “My loyalty is to our Lord, Lucifer. Whatever He asks of me… I will do.”
Lucifer’s face shifted. Hurt flickered across his features, quickly swallowed by a cold, unreadable mask. The warmth in his eyes drained.
“I…” Michael began, but Lucifer stopped him.
“No. You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked.” Lucifer said.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
A distant horn sounded.
Lucifer spread his wings. “Let’s go to the feast,” he said, then took flight, leaving the island behind.
As Michael prepared to follow, a whisper rose from the tomb — dark, serpentine. A shiver ran up his spine.
He launched into the sky without looking back. The farther he flew from the Dragon’s tomb, the more the icy dread faded from his chest.
But fear lingered in his heart — not for himself, but for the choice he might one day have to face.