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Tad loves bouncing around in time and
watching mankind grow and change. He loves humanity and helping when he can. However,
his job isn’t conducive to helping people.
He’s an Angel of Death.
Doug is fun loving and a drama queen. Despite his witty exterior, he has a dark
history and is prone to self-destruction. He’s also an amazing drag queen and hairstylist
with big dreams.
When Tad pushes the boundaries of his
duties too far, his angel wings are stripped away from him, and he is sent to New
York City to live as a human. Lost and alone he ends up meeting Doug, and the
two start a friendship that will shape them both and last a lifetime. But nothing is simple when you’re dealing
with a former Angel of Death and a Drag Queen. Could these two cause the fabric
of our world to collapse or will they manage to keep the future as it should?
Teasers:
His angel wings stripped. How will a former
Angel of Death and a Drag Queen change the past, present, and future?
Saving our world isn’t easy, especially for
an Angel of Death and a Drag Queen.
Tag Line:
Can one individual change fate?
T.A.D.-The
Angel of Death
M.D.
Neu © 2019
All
Rights Reserved
Prologue
Walking
between the past, present, and future, seeing what I’ve seen, isn’t for
everyone.
One
day, I can be in San Francisco on October 17, 1989. On another—well, it was
longer than a day, more like half a year—I was in Petrograd and Moscow from
March through November, 1917. That was a busy time. On my favorite day, as
tragic as it was, I was at Alpha Base, Mars, on September 21, 2051. There was
so much hope and heroism on Mars that day. I’d go back and relive it anytime.
When
I think about all I’ve seen, in the grand scheme of the universe, it’s not even
a blink of an eye. However, what I’ve been left with is one overlying thought:
humanity is amazing.
No
matter what happens, humans keep moving forward. Humanity is a joy to witness
and be a part of. Even in my own small way.
Humans
here—at this time—aren’t much different from in other realities.
I’ve
been to three. There are more, but I’m still pretty new. In one, mankind has
paranormal creatures living among them. The humans don’t know it, but they are
there, living and working together. I wonder what would happen if the humans on
that world knew about the paranormal creatures in their midst? Something like
that would be up to the Fates to decide. Which is way over my pay grade. I
doubt I’ll find out, but anything’s possible.
On
another alternate Earth, aliens have arrived. The good kind. That has been an
interesting scenario to witness. I’m not sure the humans in that dimension were
really ready for aliens, but they didn’t have much of a choice. The Arches and
Fates were working overtime there, and I’ll admit, considering how bad it could
have been, well, it turned out pretty good for both the humans and the aliens.
At least from what I’ve been told and seen.
The
last reality I’ve witnessed so far has none of those things. It’s the Earth I’m
on right now. The one where my work takes me today. These humans still
accomplish great things, but they’re alone, at least as far as I know.
A
loud blare of a taxicab’s horn shifts my focus. I check up the street at all
the people and traffic. This is such a busy and noisy place. I don’t understand
how anyone can think.
Ah,
well.
As
much as I’d like to, I don’t get to spend all my days bouncing between
realities. I’ve heard from my brothers and sisters there is an Earth where
magic and dragons exist. That would be pretty neat to see. Maybe another time.
Today, I have a job to do, helping the dead. Unfortunately, I can’t always
interfere with history, especially if the event is a major convergence point.
You know, something like the Black Death, or the fall of the Roman Empire,
something hugely important to human development. So, I can’t stop a dictator
from rising. I can’t keep millions from dying. But I can help those who die
cross over and make their journey painless.
Sometimes,
people don’t want to leave, and who am I to tell them they have to go? Yes,
it’s upsetting, because I know the suffering they are going through, and I can
help them, but I can’t force them. Some think they have unfinished business,
and that might be the case, but not for all of them. Those spirits don’t want
to let go, and they think staying is better. It’s not. But I let them stay. I
will, however, come back and check on the lingering deceased from time to time.
Most souls eventually come around and let me help them. That’s always a nice
feeling.
To
date, I’ve never lost a single soul. Everyone I’m responsible for gets crossed
over, maybe a little late, but they still get to where they are supposed to go.
Not many of my brothers and sisters can make that claim. Maybe that’s why I’m
able to get away with messing with fate and altering the timeline.
Inhaling
the fall morning air brings back so many memories. I wish it could always be
like this. It can’t, of course. Without the sadness and the pain, humans
wouldn’t know how to celebrate the happiness and the pleasure.
I
check the sky. Nothing yet.
Sitting
on the park bench, I adjust my arms, flexing my wings as a pug trots over to
sniff my feet. The dog’s caregiver tries to tug at the leash to get the pug to
move. The man can’t see me, which is a great perk of my job. I don’t think most
people would appreciate or understand my current appearance, but animals do. I
reach down and pat her head.
I
love animals. Dogs. Cats. I love them all. Now, working with animals would have
been a good job to have. Helping the animals cross over. They never complain,
and they’re always happy to have the attention. I’ve heard some choose to stay
and watch over their caregivers and wait for them.
Now
that’s dedication.
Finally,
the man comes over and attempts to pick up the pug. He has no clue why she
stopped. I wave my hand and she trots off, confusing the man even more. I
chuckle through my exhalation.
I
rest my arms across the back of the bench and sigh as I glance up at the twin
buildings. I’ll be honest, I’ve played with how many die, who dies and when,
but I have to be careful. I can really screw things up, and I don’t want to do
that. Fixing reality is no easy task, and they never get it just right again.
Too many variables, I guess. And way above my pay grade. That work gets handled
only by the top Arches and the boss. Anyway, the trick for me is finding the balance.
Like I did in 1989.
My
time in San Francisco and Santa Cruz, California, on October 17, 1989 worked
out well, and I count it as a huge success. I was able to find the sweet spot,
the perfect balance between life and death. All I had to do was make a few of
my tweaks, and the San Francisco Giants and the Oakland Athletics were in the
World Series. The Battle of the Bay, they called it. I called it a job well
done. Only sixty-three people died, instead of almost twenty-five thousand. Who
says baseball can’t save lives.
I
suppose the changes didn’t affect the timeline much. Well, at least, I didn’t
get in trouble. I’ve heard punishment can be bad. So that’s good.
The
shadow of War flashes above me.
Right on time.
She’s
scary but misunderstood, like all of us. Still, my wings tighten, remembering
the deaths she’s caused.
I
don’t like to focus on my failures throughout history because there have been
so many. Sometimes, there is nothing I can do. Certain moments in time only
offer me small amounts of wiggle room, and humans are as bloodthirsty as they
are kind.
My
wings tighten again, and I scout around. It feels like there’s another one of
us here.
Odd.
Oh,
well.
It’s
hard not to help, because I want to. I was created to help. We all were. I’ve
been reprimanded—well, warned I could be put on probation or dismissed—and
reminded I do help, and I do make a difference, so I should be happy with that.
Leave fate in the hands of others. The Arches take care of human’s fate. They
ensure what is to happen, happens. It’s not up to me.
I
often wonder if I could be an Arch. Really play with fate, and decide more than
just life and death. Decide when events happen if they happen at all, who is
born when, how to alter the timeline for the best results. I don’t think they
have it so tough. They get to write the past, present, and future and that
gives them a lot of flexibility, but there are whispers about how they leave
their positions. Some have fallen. The idea makes my wings shudder, but sadly,
it happens.
Not
too often.
I
check the sky, not seeing anything notable yet. I wonder if the Arches are
involved today? Maybe. It’d make sense. I massage the spot between my back and
the base of my wings.
I
can hear the Arches now when they lecture me.
“You
do good work,” the Arches tell me. “Be happy with your job.”
And
for a short time, I will be.
Then
I’ll watch something awful happen, like I did today, and my wings will tingle
all over again.
I
have to act. I have to change things. I know I’m only supposed to shuttle the
dead. That’s my job, but sometimes, one has to bend the rules to make things
right.
Humans,
you are beautiful and wonderful, so creative. Watching you come to be, I can
see why some of my brothers and sisters were envious. You’ve got a lot,
including free will. However, you didn’t get everything. There were
counterbalances to your gifts; limited lifespan, pain, suffering, and worst of
all, in my opinion, heartache.
That
is something I’ll never experience, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a
little jealous.
It
makes my wings shudder to think about the amount of suffering you go through
and cause throughout your short lives. Which is why, on a day like today, I
bend the rules, just a little. Despite this moment of respite, it’s been
incredibly busy for me.
I
don’t expect praise or thanks, because the truth is, people are still going to
die, some in awful ways. They are going to leave behind families and friends,
and there will be so much sorrow. Not only for their families but for the
country and the whole world. I wish I could do more for those left behind, but
that is a job for my brothers and sisters.
I’ve
done what I can. And really, a few lives continuing on won’t affect the future.
Today, I’ve made several trains run late. I’ve made some people oversleep. I’ve
made mundane matters urgent for those they affect. I made a small group of
airplane passengers brave and courageous. In years to come, their daring will
still be talked about. Hopefully, I’ve done enough to make everyone’s passing
as painless as possible. What I’ve altered won’t stop the events to come and my
tweaks won’t help a great many people, but I’m limited. This event is too
important. Too painful. The ramifications will drive the humans and their
future to the next fixed point.
Under
three thousand people was my hope, and I did it. So that is something I’m very
proud of. I’m getting better at my manipulation of people and events.
I
glance up at the sky and watch.
It’s
8:40 a.m., and I’ve got to cross over just under three thousand people from
three different locations. These deaths are so much less than the almost
forty-three thousand it would have been without my interference. And nothing
near the almost half a million people over the next two weeks from a different
part of the world that will keep me and my brothers and sisters busier than we
care to be. So, for the next two days, my wings will get a workout. But I’m
feeling pretty good. I saved five hundred forty thousand people this time, the
most people saved yet for this event.
8:42
a.m.
This
is my last attempt. I stand. I’ve tried five different times, and I can’t risk
another go. Plus, I think my boss is coming around to my tricks. After today, I
won’t be able to come back to this day, at least not to change things, but
maybe I’ll come back to visit.
In
the distance, I see the first plane heading for the first tower. Time to get to
work. I flex my wings, stretching them out. Enjoying their heaviness before I
take to the air.
My
name is Death, and I’m going to have a busy day.
M.D. Neu is a queer Fiction Writer with a
love for writing and travel. Living in the heart of Silicon Valley (San
Jose, California) and growing up around technology, he’s always been fascinated
with what could be. Specifically drawn to Science Fiction and Paranormal
television and novels, M.D. Neu was inspired by the great Gene Roddenberry,
George Lucas, Stephen King, Alice Walker, Alfred Hitchcock, Harvey
Fierstein, Anne Rice, and Kim Stanley Robinson. An odd combination, but
one that has influenced his writing.
Growing up in an accepting family as a gay
man he always wondered why there were never stories reflecting who he was.
Constantly surrounded by characters that only reflected heterosexual society,
M.D. Neu decided he wanted to change that. So, he took to writing, wanting
to tell good stories that reflected our diverse world.
When M.D. Neu isn’t writing, he works for a
non-profit and travels with his biggest supporter and his harshest critic,
Eric his husband of twenty plus years.
Links:
Website: http://www.mdneu.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mdneuauthor
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authormdneu/
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