In Hands of Men

The rain was clearing now. It made Elijah feel a bit better, he always hated to walk in the rain before work. Everyday he woke, he showered up, and then stopped by the cafe for a cup of coffee before heading to the bank. He was hired a month ago, working the counters, he didn't like it but he needed it. He had a degree in linguistics, not like he ever got to use it. East-Asian languages were his specialization, and if life provided, he would use it to marry his fianc and move to-- Well he really didn't care, but he was partial to the Philippines. As for his fianc, Emily, she was the one thing in life he was lucky to get, it seemed destined from the start. Never had they fought and never had they needed to. His parents would joke often, about his luck, that God had given him one token for life and that he used it when he met her. Whenever he heard it he would laugh of course, nervously. He took down his umbrella and looked up at the sky, the clouds seemed turbulent and angry. They twisted in an odd way he'd never really saw clouds do before, but the sun was showing now so it seemed like the worst was past. He sighed. A stroke of luck when the day seemed to start so bad, maybe he had some tokens left after all. He walked across the street and came across to a store window on the other side. It was a wedding store that had just opened, filled in it were the most beautiful gowns that glowered at him. He chuckled to himself. Emily had been putting hints on picking the special day, and if he didn't know any better he'd of thought she paid someone to put it there to give him the message that he probably needed. He knew he was taking his time, now very noticeably. There probably should be a set date by now. I guess we'll figure that out when I get home. He moved on in his daily walk. He saw the cafe coming up and knew he'd see Pete there again. Just a hunch. Pete was the local scoundrel that he'd gotten to know through his way to work. He often gave the poor old man a buck and chatted a bit before entering the cafe. Crossing the street, sure enough there he was, in the alley like usual standing near the opening. He walked up to him and reached for the dollar in his pocket. It was the man's normal spot. The alley was just a small crevice but it was enough for the man and his cart. The owners didn't care he was there and the customers didn't either. In fact most people loved him and didn't mind giving him a little change once in a while. He was different than other bums on the street, and if there was ever a professional beggar, he was it. He took the time. You'd talk to him and he'd remember your wife, your parents and he'd ask about them. Find out how you're doing and he'd always have a line to make the day seem just a bit brighter. The clouds began to really clear up now, Elijah couldn't imagine the day getting better. Hey Pete how's the... The bum let out a screech that grabbed every head and turned it their way. Elijah froze in his steps and nearly jumped out of his skin. Hey Pete, everything okay? The bum didn't react to him speaking, he only stared at him, a kind of look that radiated pure hatred. His mouth began to twitch, and then his lips curled back revealing long rotting teeth, clenched so tight the gums that held them began to bleed. Elijah realized he had stepped back several paces from the man and was glad he had. Ok, I'm just gonna head inside. You... He began to speak, I know you! Pete said in a tone he never heard him speak before. It was the kind of voice born out of hatred and desperation. Like a man would if both were about to die, yet there was only one antidote. He had talked to Pete many times and had never seen this. The man always had a smile on his face. They called him happy Pete for heaven's sake. Youre the man with the gift. I don't think so, all you look like to me is shit. With that he spit onto the ground, a sickening mix of saliva and blood, then he chuckled. And spit! Shit and spit! Shit and spit... Hahahaha The laugh sounded sick and twisted. Elijah figured he'd better just go and figure this out later. He began to turn but he noticed the man's eyes and it caught him half turn. They were blood red and the pupils were gigantic. They looked like the eyes of an animal in blood lust from rabies. His chest began to tighten and

In Hands of Men

he heard his breathing get shallow as his sight pierced into the deep blood eyes of the lunatic. He felt like running. Youre pathetic. You ain't gonna last, you're just a tool. They'll just use you and be done. Good thing too, cause you see. I think I can do it for them. I know how to clean shit and spit. You FLUSH it! His hand came out behind his back and in it was a knife. Elijah couldn't take it, he turned and ran for the door of the cafe. Behind him he heard the same twisted laughter. He reached out for the knob of the door and swung it open, he rushed inside and slammed it shut behind him. He looked out through the window in to the alley. It was empty, Pete was gone. Elijah gathered himself as best he could. He had never seen Pete act like that, and definitely never heard of him doing something like that. He turned around and realized that no one had noticed anything, all were mindlessly chatting and sipping latte. Without thinking he reached up and checked his hair and then straitened it. He began to walk to his normal table. It was called Cool Grind and though it wasn't the best coffee cafe, it was a good one. Plus he hated the bureaucracy of Starbucks and tried, when he could, to go to any competitor that still existed. It's walls were painted a cool orange, it's roof a coffee brown, and the floor a cream. It was a nice color choice he thought, it relaxed him while the orange kept him awake. Just what he needed in the morning. Damn what was up with Pete? The thought came that he should call the police and report it, but he quickly dismissed the idea. People wouldn't like him putting Pete behind bars for being too drunk, which was probably what was going on, also it would make him late for work as well. He was glad he had left a few minutes early or he would be running out of time now. Old Pete must of only been drunk anyways, they might have a laugh about it in a few days. Someone was at his table. Elijah stood at the edge of the table looking down at the older man. He was glad he noticed him when he did, he was so in his mind he could of just come and sat on the poor man's lap. Being jolted out of what he was thinking so fast had left him confused. Eventually he decided to look for another table. The table wasn't technically his of course, it was just the table he always sat at. He picked it specifically because it would always be open. It was a quarter away from the back of the cafe. Not far back enough for the loners but not close enough to the front for the spill in to reach on a busy day. He found a good table not far away and took a step in the direction. Elijah Cain I presume..., the odd man said in a coy way. Elijah stopped in his tracks and looked at the man with a questioning look. Sit down, sit down Mr. Cain. I took the liberty of ordering you coffee. We have... important things to discuss. For a while Elijah just stood there unsure what to do. This day was getting too weird, friends attacking him with knifes, strange old men forcing conversation filled with hidden intent. Eventually Elijah sat down, but there was a moment when he almost decided to leave, go home, and call in sick at work. It was the curiosity that got him to stay. Do... I know you?, he knew it was a stupid line but he really didn't know what else to say. No Mr. Cain, you do not. But I know you. The man's voice put Elijah in awe at the authority it carried with it. What, who are you?, he tried to make his voice sound as strong as the other man's was. He barely succeeded. The man laughed lightly to himself, as if he just watched a kitten trying to wear human shoes. You may call me... Teariel, Mr. Cain. Elijah's gut told him the man had a lot to hide, and he wasn't looking to give very many answers. Teariel, that's not real is it? Without a break the man carried on undaunted, That does not matter right now Mr. Cain, it has little to do with the situation, or the reason for that. Elijah cocked his eye at this strange answer. Okay, why are you here?

In Hands of Men

The man calling himself Teariel straitened his back and began again in his mysterious way, That will be revealed soon Mr. Cain. But first, please allow me to direct you to the effect, so that you may understand the cause. Look behind me Mr. Cain, look behind me. At what you call the loners sir. Tell me, what do you see? Doing as the man said Elijah leaned in his seat and looked at the far back wall of the cafe. He was shocked at what he saw, as his eyes reached the group sitting there, every eye matched his. Not one person wasn't looking at him, no gleaming at him. Some sat frozen with coffee cups half way to their lips while their angry eyes watched his every move. Others turned to meet his eyes better while they twisted their faces from disgust to hatred. He rested in his seat again while staring into space. He liked to think of himself as someone who didn't care much about what other people thought of him. He didn't expect the sinking in his heart as he saw the great number of people looking down at him for no apparent reason, or the heat raising to his face as well. He turned and looked around at the rest of the cafe. Most of the people looked normal and chatted with each other, oblivious to the world, but every so often there was a single person staring back, with the same hatred as the ones at the back wall. Teariel started to speak again, Yes, yes they quite surround us don't they. Elijah swallowed hard. The staring made him feel unclothed in the cafe, small in comparison. He shook his head to try to clear his mind, he realized he had stopped breathing. His breath came back, but it was ragged and shaky. Are they with you? Are you threatening me?, he needed answers now. The man's eyes widened for a second, it appeared genuine. Heaven's no!, he chuckled. But they are here because of me, partly. Mr. Cain, mostly, they are here... because of you. Me?, he gasped. What in hell did I do to piss them off so much? Understand Mr. Cain, it's because they fear you. Fear me! Why in the hell would they fear me?, Elijah almost yelled in shock. Teariel pounced on his feet and was leaning over the table before Elijah could blink, the man's voice was stern and strong even as he whispered. Watch yourself Mr. Cain! I can protect you if you alert them enough to attack us but I assure you, it would not be enjoyable. With that he slowly sat back down with the same air of calmness from before. You didn't do anything Mr. Cain, nothing at all. They're here because they know what you could do. Elijah laughed to himself, What the hell could I do? It was with sick humor he said this and Teariel noticed. Perhaps it is best that you relax for a moment Mr. Cain. Your coffee is coming now, take some time to enjoy it. You prefer your coffee with light hazelnut cream and sugar free, correct? Elijah could only mouth yes before a waitress set down a cup of coffee exactly as the man described onto the table. He looked down on it, the man told him to drink it but he didn't want to. He felt he had enough, he wanted to get up and run out of the room, but then would the man follow him and confront him at home. He obviously put a lot of effort into learning about his life, would he let go so easily. As usual his curiosity got the best of him and put him in a bad place, as usual. Reluctantly he picked up the coffee and slowly took a sip from it. He began to study the strange man across from him. The man wore a simple yet expensive looking suit, his face showed lines of aging, but his hair was unusually youthful. It was slightly curled, dark, and extremely healthy. He rarely moved except to blink, and only sat at patiently watching him, a calm smile on his face. On his shoulders he carried an aura of authority that made Elijah hope he would never be on the bad side of the man. Hope he wasn't there already. He put his coffee back down and realized he had downed half the cup. The drink was still steaming, but he had barely noticed the heat. He was getting worked up, maybe that's what the man wanted. He closed his eyes and breathed in a few deep breaths before he opened them again. The man took the que and spoke more, What I'm about to tell you is extremely secret Mr. Cain,

In Hands of Men

immensely secret. Now that youre calmed I hope you can keep it as you hear it, I would hate the for the situation to... get out of control. Do you believe in God Mr. Cain? Elijah blinked, it was the last thing he expected to be asked. Who was this man, some lunatic evangelist trying to up pressure on a new convert. I suppose I do, why? The man tensed up when he heard this, You either do or you don't Mr. Cain. That's very much how it is, or at least that's how... I like to think. So Mr. Cain? Fine, I do. I like to think there's more to life than living and dying. The man was getting very personal, he felt. He thought to himself that more than not liking where this was going, he was going to hate where it was going. Good, good Mr. Cain. That's the kind of thing I like to hear. I suppose that means you believe in the devil as well, is that right? I guess so. I don't like to think about it, but I suppose if I believe there's a God then... yes I guess I do believe in the devil. Well Mr. Cain youre absolutely right. There is a devil, and I'm here to tell you he's alive and well. In fact if you really want to know, that's why I'm hear today. I'm going to show you just how real he is. The man must be crazy, he took up his coffee and finished it, he didn't care about a burned tongue anymore. The man truly had to be threatening him. Why would someone want to do that to him though, he always tried his hardest not to piss people off. Liked to think of himself as a good person, why would someone want to rough him up. He tightened his stomach and felt it turn, he decided it would be best if he just got out of there. Then the man said something that caught him, Do you at all think it strange that a nice man would act so savagely when you were reaching for charity for him. At least I thought so. With that the man cocked a smile. Sonuvabitch! What the hell did you do to Pete? I did nothing to him Mr. Cain, but I saw what happened. What do you think would cause a man who was always smiling to say such nasty things to you? Elijah's voice was angry, I assumed he was drunk, but now- So with just a little booze a man whod always been kind natured can go bloodthirsty and try to kill a man that he had always liked and that had always been kind to him? What are you getting at, just say it. Calm down Mr. Cain, if I was going to hurt you believe me I would of done it already. It was because he knew what was going to happen today Mr. Cain. The Mr. Pete you know is what we like to call a Lost. Alone and desperate he reached out for something that promised to help him, something evil Mr. Cain. In fact every person glaring at us right now has done the exact same thing. This thing Mr. Cain is that devil you claim to believe in. Elijah began to laugh out loud. The man was crazy after all. So they're working for the devil huh? Yes Mr. Cain. And I, well I work for the other side. So you're a... Teariel raised his hands up to his side, facing the roof, An angel. He laughed some more and stood up. I was going to say, preacher but an angel is just as good. Nice try Teariel or whoever the hell you are but I'm no loony, sell your batshit crazy to someone- When he stood the man's face grew a troublesome frown and it was evident there was annoyance growing in him, before Elijah could finish his sentence the man reached out with lightning speed and grabbed hold of his hand. Pain shot up his arm, but he couldn't even let out a yell. Images flashed through his sight so fast he barely caught them. A screaming face, a dark horned creature with red glowing veins, women dying, children dying, and finally a throne too bright to see, angels flying a halo above it. He was paralyzed, trying to scream but not able to. Teariel spoke to him, Good Mr. Cain, now please sit. He felt himself falling back into his seat out of no will of his own. He tried to stop it and get back up, but his muscles didn't respond.

In Hands of Men

Slowly by command from the man they lowered him into the chair and the pain began to reside. The one image came back and lingered, the black horned man, blood of fire. Eventually the man removed his hand leaving Elijah gasping for air for several minutes. I didn't want to do that Mr. Cain but you left me little choice. You see it's not often we reveal ourselves to you unless we're very sure it's worth it Mr. Cain, and you... were deemed worth it. This is because, well you've witnessed the reaction it brings. When we come to you worthy the Lost recognize them for what they are, a threat. If the person refuses and leaves, the Lost never let up you see. With the person alone they close in and destroy the threat and everything the threat loves. That's how they are, they work with evil Mr. Cain.That's why, we like to be picky with this. Elijah felt as if his arm had been ripped off and thrown across the room. Never before had he an experience so painful. He now regarded the man differently, and the thought crossed his mind that the man may be telling the truth. He was still breathing heavily but he managed to speak, This is real isn't it? This whole damn thing. His voice became dark and more urgent, Don't insult me Mr. Cain, of course it's real. I am truly sorry for the pain I gave you, but I couldn't let you leave without you knowing what you were getting yourself into. He began to catch his breath and his heart began to return to normal. So I can leave, but... if I do these people around us will kill me? Tearial closed his eyes, he knew what Elijah was getting at. Real regret glimmered on his face as he explained, I'm sorry Mr. Cain, I truly am. I understand how we've backed you into a corner that you can't get out of. I wish this could be different, but it can't. Why is that! Aren't you angels, if you are an angel, supposed to protect us humans. How can you come to me claiming to be from God and ask me to join you or die? Teariel sighed, You're right Mr. Cain, we do protect you, but... you don't quit understand the gravity of the issue. You see, a kind of war has been ragging between hell and heaven for some time, for almost six thousand years it has. It's coming to a climax soon Mr. Cain. A war to end the war, and we're gravely out numbered. Elijah's head fell as he heard the words. Teariel continued, I cannot stress how important it is that we win Mr. Cain. It's more important than me, more important than even you. So you see how we can be forced to do what we're now doing. There's more of them and more humans on their side, we need more men. You're being recruited Mr. Cain. "What the hell do you mean you're out numbered? Isn't God on your side? That automatically makes you the winning team in my book." Again Teariel sighed, "It's never that simple, I'm afraid that's a universal truth. The war is with us! Mr. Cain. We have his blessing, but he is barred from interfering, by his own choice. It was decided long ago that mankind would choose their own fate, that they would decide the end of their road. Heaven or Hell. Our God is a stifler about your free will I'm afraid, if in the end more humans choose the evil path away from him and win this war, he'll let it be." He paused a moment before continuing, "How much of the world do you think is on our side as of now? Mr. Cain, that is exactly my point." Elijah couldn't breath much less speak, he knew the man had been building to something. He had assumed that maybe they needed his help, wanted him to do something. Recruited? What does that mean? Maybe they need someone on earth to help. That must be what he meant, work for them here. He couldn't possibly mean... As if sensing Elijah's confusion, Teariel explained, You have a strong spirit Mr. Cain. One of the strongest we've ever seen. Join us, become an angel. With time you could become even stronger, maybe even as powerful as me. We need you with us, as one of us. An angel. The world as you know it is ending Mr. Cain, the war has grown larger and is already moving to your world. An angel... How? Why me?, thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to sort out what Teariel just told him.

In Hands of Men

You ever wonder why... you've been considered unlucky. Why at nearly every point when you push to try to succeed your potential, something blocks your path. Something has Mr. Cain, the enemy has. They know your potential and knowing it they have tried to break you at every chance. And if you don't join us they will close in with ferocity unlike you've ever seen. They will destroy you, your friends, and even Emily. Emily! His mouth was already dry again, he tried to speak. How can I leave her? Don't think of it as leaving her Mr. Cain, you are protecting her. Soon the enemy will move to your plane and eventually it will reach her. They will kill her... if youre not with us to protect her. He paused and sighed, The outlook is very grim, though our individual power is greater, they outnumber us by around fifteen to one. I don't have to elaborate how bad that is. Elijah didn't want to believe it, everything in him pointed to it being false, but how could he say no. He couldn't say no, he saw the people watching them. The look they gave, it shook him to the core, there was nothing human about it. He rubbed his eyes till they strained but it comforted it. I can't just leave her now, what will she do? He pictured his precious Emily. He had normally been attracted to brunettes or red heads but Emily was a genuine blond. From the moment he met her he was struck, not by her eyes or her pleasing body, but the air of infectious compassion she carried with her. He was working at a department store at the time, she had found a lost child and was holding the young girl who cried into her breast. Instantly there was a connection, though they had never met, it seemed like they could talk to each other without a word being spoken. He remembered the wedding shop on his way to the cafe, began to wonder what had kept him from taking the relationship further. Now he regretted it. I understand Mr. Cain that this must be exceedingly difficult to you. You must know that leaving now, cleanly, can be the best thing you can do for her. If she resides on you when youre gone, that will bring attention to her, by just leaving you will save her life, and when the war moves fully onto the earth, you will see her again. Looking around him at the many evil faces staring hate at him he knew the words were true. Fine, then lets go. You must promise me I'll see her again Teariel, tell me she'll be fine. Teariel leaned forward and looked deep into his eyes as he said, You'll see her again Mr. Cain, she'll be fine. I promise that when the war moves over she'll be under our priority protection. But... I'm afraid we can't just get up and leave, I apologize but there is one more thing I haven't told you. As angels we dwell in the spirit world, another plane separate from here. A body cannot travel there, only your spirit can. With that he reached inside his jacket, he pulled out his hand and set onto the table a revolver. In that instant, everything he felt ended. Indeed his very heartbeat grew quiet at the sight of the tool of destruction. He should have known there would be more asked of him. Teariel said nothing about the gun or what it was for, there was no need. Teariel just closed his eyes and bowed his head, evidently giving him time to let the realization settle or giving him time to make his final decision. Feeling unable to formulate the right response he merely reached down and grabbed a napkin to wipe the growing perspiration on his brow. Again I apologize Mr. Cain, this is dirty business and this part is the one of the dirtiest, one we dont like, but truthfully, its necessary. Do you have an answer for me Mr. Cain. Do I have to do it.. Myself? His voice was sad and cold, it began to worry himself about his state. Yes-- innocent human killing isnt really something Im permitted to do. He expected it and nodded his head. He had hoped that would not be the answer; he could feel the conflict brewing on his face. Can I... go to the bathroom. I need to be alone for a sec. I wont run! Teariel nodded, Ill wait outside the door so none of the Lost enter. I pray youre quick Mr. Cain. He glanced around the cafe. The people were still staring at them, he had forgotten about them during the revelations.

In Hands of Men

They both stood up and began walking toward the restrooms. Here and there, some of the ones who watched them adjusted themselves to keep their eyes following. Other than the deadly eyes, they looked completely normal. Were they really in league with evil? Just before he reached the door he spotted a rather nice looking old lady, despite the scowl on her face, she reminded him of his mother. As he stepped in through the door he managed to see her mouth out the words, I want you dead. Quickly he went up to the mirror and looked into his face. He looked normal. He was expecting to look how he felt, beaten, bruised, and dirty from clawing his way out a pit. It didnt show at least. What would he do? Was there any choice? His stomach turned suddenly, bringing him to the sink to send back whatever little he ate before he left. He stood up with his head whirling, bringing up more bile and then sending him half sitting half sprawled in the corner. It was a dank facility, completely at odds with the interior of the rest of the place. While the cafe tried to portray a carefree work and hang out environment, the bathroom went for a militarized look. Grubby gray tiled walls, stark green stalls, it was utterly unimpressive yet-- in there he was safe, for the time being. This little room, though uncomfortable and simple, was his only condolence from-- that man. How could one say no when presented with a question like that. Well he could say no, just run to the door and leave, maybe he'll be left alone. He wasn't convinced. If anything had convinced him of the truth of the matter he was in it was those people. Ironically they were a better argument that the angel's ability to give pain and visions. After seeing hate like that he knew by leaving he would doom himself and his Emily. It was unfair It was in the same category as if someone had just confronted him with an infant with adoption papers in hand saying if the baby didn't receive a home within the hour it would die. How could any good hearted person say no. There was something in his hand, he uncurled his tight fingers and saw the napkin that he had used to wipe his forehead earlier. Instantly he knew what he should do. He began a frantic search through his pockets. First checking the ones in his jeans, then in his jacket. At last, he found it in the jacket's inner pocket on his left. A pen. Quickly he pushed himself into the air with his hands and landed on his stomach writing recklessly on the piece of paper. He breathed in deeply as he walked out of the bathroom. Out of his clear vision he still saw everyone, saw their blurry nasty eyes on him, but he didn't dwell on them. He pushed them from his mind. As a colleague in crime would, Teariel greeted him with only a nod before walking in strong confident strides back to the table. He followed him. They sat down. He began to look the surface of the table, it seemed like the first time. So many times before he had used this table, could he have ever guessed, that it would become his death bed as well. It seemed appropriate, to absorb it in. The room, it's decor as well, so precisely placed. The table, it wasn't made of wood, just linoleum, it didn't bother him though. It was a budget decision, it was cheap, but even knowing that, he liked the look. What truly intrigued him though were the people. Everyday people, normal people, going about their lives. Buying coffee, counting coins, they ran about this business in their own internal worlds. Oblivious, all of them, to the coming end of his, or the looming end of theirs. But who was he? To judge, when seconds before he was exactly the same. Wondering when the rain would cease or if the new Koontz or King was in. But again! who was he? Only The Hero, just like them, of their own unique and emerging story. Whether that story involved waking up in time for the morning news or the realization that their one true love would not be their last or even their greatest. Heroes, all of them. None a second bit character posed smiling, holding a camera, waiting for the great monster of act two to come and end their existence. And just like him, all of them, their stories were important. When the end did come, as it always did, sadly most would of these would be forgotten. Would his? But unlike them, or more likely most of them, his life had taken a U-turn out of crystal rivers and into darkened seas. It didn't make him all that upset. It surprised him, this. It occurred that, maybe it was something we all secretly wished, with hushed lips

In Hands of Men

behind our hypocritic prayers. Maybe, that was why God stayed silent so, and still. Why? Personally he now saw, and knew, with a heart at faster tempo, that a road that has no turns was the worst kind of hell. He looked up at Teariel, "The path ahead is a dark distant rabbit hole. Dare I fear the future? Why fear an unknown wonderland when I stand hand in hand with a known god." Teariel smiled, "Then into the rabbit hole we go." A great boom resounded throughout the Cool Grind cafe, followed by aftershocks of screams and patrons fleeing the building. Chaos ensued within, women began to scream and inch as close to the walls as possible, employees dropped cups of steaming beverage, while some customers, frozen in shock, sat where they were hoping what they saw wasn't real. Except for a select group, who merely watched with stone faces and all together stood and began to leave. Half way back into the cafe, but not all the way, was a simple linoleum table, blood dripping down its legs. There was only one person at the table, hunched over, face upon the table in a puddle of what looked, in the low light of the high sun, like dark black ink. The chair, opposite of him, was pulled out, crooked, a position which one would sit in, but it was empty. On the table lay a gun, smoking, in one of his hands by an empty coffee mug. A police officer swung the door open, it slammed against the wall. A white speck flew out as he ran in. He followed franticly pointing fingers to the body. In one hand was a crumpled napkin, he picked it up and unfolded it. There was script, it read: Emily, I can only hope that you can be strong enough for what I'm about to do, and the time after. I'm so sorry... I can't tell you why, god I wish I could. Just know baby, I'm not gone. I will come back for you. I'll be away for a while but I will return! Have faith... I love you! - Your Hubby Outside the wind began to blow, picking up power. It became a gale. From the door of The Grind a white speck was picked up and pulled into the sky. It was a simple white feather. Majestically, it rose higher and higher, greater than even the small buildings below. Higher and higher it climbed, now above even the cold skyscrapers that mocked the heavens. It floated and glided, into a cloud and was gone.