DEATH (The Justice Cycle Book 1) J Kiefer (ebook reader .txt) đź“–
- Author: J Kiefer
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Steve continued to stare at his plate, refusing to meet his father’s eyes. The room once again fell back into an oppressive silence as Mr. Caddret watched his son expectantly. He had revealed to Steve his greatest fear in hopes that the revelation would help the young man understand how much he truly loved him.
Steve heaved a sigh and put down the fork he’d been using to prod his food. He placed both hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. Everyone at the table stared at him hopefully.
“I know you love me, Dad,” he quietly said. “You would still love me even if I were the most horrible murderer to prowl the earth, because that is the kind of person you are. But, no matter how much you love me, I know that you will never approve of the lifestyle I have chosen to live.”
A lone tear traced down their father’s cheek. “Steve, I will always love and accept you, no matter what you do. You have to know that.”
“I know that, Dad. But being a Christian is not high on my list of things to do right now. I love being free of the oppressive constraints of religion, and I know that that is something you can never accept. Don’t get me wrong, I do believe in God, I just don’t want anything to do with Him.”
His dad said nothing in response, but sat there staring at his youngest son, the tears flowing more freely now. His mother’s expression was one of utter heartbreak, and Jared wanted to jump up and slap some sense into his younger brother. How could he deliberately hurt their parents like that?
Steve turned away from his wounded family and walked quickly to the front door and open it briskly. Before he could make it outside, his dad called out to him.
“Steve, no matter what you may think, I still love you and am very proud of you,” he declared, choking back his tears. “I may think you are wrong in rejecting what you know to be true, but you will always be my son. Nothing can ever change that.”
Steve stepped out into the cold night air, and the door thudded shut.
Fourteen
The city morgue was a place for the dead and those who tended to the dead. None of the living seemed to be comfortable there. In truth, people only came to the city morgue when something tragic and terrible had happened, and most people found it disturbing and sometimes frightening to come face-to-face with their own mortality. For this reason, even the police and emergency responders disliked coming here.
The small waiting room in the front of the morgue was closed for the evening, and the room was dark except for a faint light emanating from the door that led deeper into the inner sanctum where the medical examiners performed their grizzly work. It glowed softly but was not strong enough to chase away the shadows that filled the small room. The soft light was barely holding on to life as if it too would soon be overcome by the encroaching darkness.
Just when it appeared that the darkness would finally prevail, a brilliant flash of blinding light burst into the room. The darkness was no match for its radiance, and it fled instantly before the light. This was no ordinary illumination, however, and it revealed more than what mortal eyes could see. All around the room, the hiding places of demonic beings were exposed. The demons winced and writhed in pain and screeched in protest at the intrusion of the painful light.
The blinding glow shivered and contorted, coalescing into an angelic being. The demons shielded their eyes and thundered protests as it passed by them. Ignoring their insults, the angel made its way deeper into the morgue. The demons that were wise fled before it, but those that were foolish enough to defy it were sent screaming back to Hell in explosions of white flames.
The angel had come to this small forgotten town for a reason. He had been sent here, in fact, to perform a very important task for the Most High Himself, and there was no power in any realm that could hinder him. To the mortal world, the angel appeared as nothing more than blindingly bright light, but in the realm unseen, he was a powerful warrior adorned in bronze armor and brandishing a massive flaming sword. Standing well over seven feet tall and, true to most angelic depictions, he had large feathered wings neatly folded behind him.
Before long, the angel stood in front of a closed door that read AUTOPSY. Beyond the door, the angel could make out the silhouette of the coroner. A drill hummed, the coroner lost in his work. Then the man quietly dictated what he’d discovered into an electronic recorder that sat on a small table next to the gurney.
“The official report from the investigating detective states that the body, which appears to be that of an Asian man about fifty years old, was found this morning around ten a.m. Time of death is currently unknown, but the cause of death appears to be from a puncture wound to the chest made by a sharp object. The wound is clean, and the blade seems to have passed directly through the subject, leading to the conclusion that it was most likely made by a sword or very large knife.”
The angel passed through the door as the man dictated his findings. The coroner was a short balding man in his late fifties with a slight paunch. He wore the usual lab coat of a doctor and it was covered by a blood-speckled plastic
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