All I could remember was crying a lot. Crying and screaming and begging. That crying, screaming, and begging came with a lot of pain. So much pain. Inexplicable pain coupled with a sense of hopelessness.

I knew that I was going to die.

I knew that I was going to die in the most brutal of ways possible and there was nothing I could do about it.

No one could see me.

No one could hear me.

I was all alone in my hellish nightmare. A hellish nightmare that I couldn't properly recall. Maybe it was my body's reaction in its last moments. A way of sparing me the full brunt of brutality by excluding some of the details...making them a blurry mess of nonsensical feelings and emotions, a sort of traumatic shock.

And that's when it all just stopped.

I opened my eyes, and all I could see were swirling shadows against a starless night sky. These shadows spun and twirled and jumped in rapid, chaotic synchronization. I wondered if I was dead. I wondered if everything I had been taught about heaven and hell was a lie and that we all just ceased to exist at death. I wondered if I would be stuck here forever, staring at moving, silent shadows.

But I could feel my physical body. I could feel the unbearable ache in my muscles, the heavy, laden weight in my bones. So, I couldn't be dead, right? Bodies were supposed to be left behind on earth.

"Well, that was quite nasty to witness."

The voice made me gasp and upon instinct, I sat up swiftly, my head spinning as I did so. I immediately regretted it. Taking a few deep breaths, I opened and closed my eyes to expel the white, fuzzy dots that flooded my vision. Once I recovered, I slowly turned my head toward the sound of the voice.

The area around me was flooded in shadow. It was as if I was floating in some silent, never-ending black hole. My mouth became dry as my eyes landed on another figure...a man.

He was the most eccentric-looking man I had ever seen. His face was stark-white, almost luminescent against the shadows. His hair, strangely enough, was also the color of powdery snow, messy, thick, and ruffled as it stuck up in an almost feral matter. But what scared me the most were those eyes...those large, sullen, scarlet-colored eyes reminiscent to blood.

He struck me as someone who had albinism...but even those with albinism didn't have eyes of that color.

He was clad in nothing but black, standing against the ominous swirling shadows...a presence that took my breath away and sent a wave of goosebumps over my skin.

I opened my mouth to speak, but found that no words could come out.

The man smirked slightly before taking a few steps forward. His footsteps didn't make a sound.

"If you're wondering where we are, the best answer I can give you is...well...nowhere. It's just a meaningless pocket of space tucked within this universe. Places that people go when they actually have a choice to make before going on."

His voice was harsh with a notable hint of a foreign accent. I believed it to be German.

I didn't really register his words at the time. I was too immersed in the man himself. I didn't know whether I should stay put or flee. Something about him made my throat constrict in irrational fear.

"Huh. Not the talkative type, I see. Well, then, I'll just get straight to the point." The man's smirk widened and his eyes flashed in an almost mischievous manner.

"My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. I am a demon in search of an angel, and I am hoping that you, Madeline Williams, will be my angel."

His expression remained unchanged as he surveyed me. I shook my head a few times to clear it, wondering if I had accidentally ingested some hallucinogens and was currently undergoing a very strange trip.

"I...what?" My voice was strangely weak, even to my own ears.

Gilbert looked even more amused as a small chuckle escaped his lips. "My dear, dear angel. Sounds endearing. Cute, ja?"

My head was now spinning uncontrollably. I was confused. Everything was starting to hit me at once. I didn't know where I was, I could barely remember what happened to me, and now I was in the presence of some creepy German man asking me to be his angel.

"I...j-just hold on for a minute...please..." I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut just so I wouldn't have to look at him. I listened for the comforting sound of my heartbeat, but for some odd reason, I couldn't seem to hear it.

This was just some weird dream. Or accidental drug trip. Either or. This wasn't real.

Gilbert gave a yawn. "Before you bore me with the obvious questions... No, you're not dreaming. Yes, this is real. And no, this isn't some fucked up drug trip. To go even further...no, I'm not here to hurt you in anyway, and yes, you are dead."

My head snapped up at the last statement. For a split second, I forgot to breathe as I stared up at the smirking man, my lips parted. Pure panic surged through my body. I felt as if my eyes would become blurry with uncontrollable tears at any moment, but they remained quite clear.

"...Dead? I'm dead?"

My voice was scarcely more than a whisper.

"Ja, dead." Gilbert shrugged. "It's not that big of a fucking deal, so don't get your granny-panties in a twist. There are a lot of things worse than being dead."

"I'm dead. I'm actually dead."

And as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I couldn't shake the feeling that Gilbert was telling the truth. After all, that was my initial instinct. I wondered when the grief would settle in.

"Blah blah blah, I'm dead. Boo-hoo. Woe is me." The German's voice pierced through me like a knife and I immediately cringed at how indifferently cruel he sounded. After a sarcastic snort, he continued to speak. "Being dead is the least of our worries right now. I'm here to discuss your after-life options with you."

I was shaking now. I clenched my fists, my head bowed so as to stare at my bruised, bloody thighs. I briefly wondered what the hell I had undergone during my last moments. Did my memory really fade that fast? Did death do that to you? Did it steal away your memories?

"What happened to me?" I asked.

There was a few seconds of strange, tension-filled silence. It was enough to make me look back up at Gilbert, who, for the first time, was avoiding my gaze. His smirk was gone and his eyes were downcast as a disturbed expression passed over his face.

"I don't think I'm the one to tell you that. You'll remember with time. But it was pretty fucking brutal. I don't think anyone really wanted to see that. I sure as hell didn't."

His answer seemed to lodge something heavy down my throat and I found it hard to breathe. Something...horrible happened to me. I could suddenly recall a lot of pain and screaming and...and...

No. I was dead. I didn't want to think about how I died. I wasn't ready to deal with that.

Gilbert let out an irritated sigh. "Look, you learn to get over it. My death wasn't necessarily all flowers and rainbows and goddamn cream-puffs either."

"You're dead too, then?" I looked up to see him looking at me once again, a grimace on his face, his arms crossed in a strangely nonchalant manner. Even though I barely knew anything about him, hearing that he was dead too was oddly comforting.

"No shit. I'm here in this pointless-as-hell pocket of space talking to you, aren't I? Last I checked, that wasn't something that a living human did on a regular basis. But that's not important right now. I have some shit to discuss with you, Madeline. Like I said, I want you to be my angel."

I stared at him speechlessly. What was that even supposed to mean? Angel? Was this some sort of joke? Or a cruel hoax? But then again, how could it be? Gilbert and I were both dead as hell.

When I didn't respond, Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, another frustrated sigh escaping his lips. The motion was so human that it made my muscles cease their trembling.

"I know, I have a whole lot of explaining to do. But I sure as hell can't tell you everything right now; I'll spare you the details later." He then took a seat in front of me, leaning back on his arms as he held his upper body up, his legs stretched out lazily. A satisfied, devious smile settled on his lips.

"Okay, I'm giving you the toddler version here, alright? You just died. I've been dead for a while now. We are here right now because you're one of those souls with a choice to make. Lucky you, kesesese."

"A choice? What kind of choice?"

"Well, let's see. You can either go to heaven as a pure soul and live in eternal happiness and frolic with cute little cherubs and..whatever is up there...or you can become an angel, fight with me against some asshole monsters to maintain peace on earth, and occasionally kick my ass to whip me back into shape. Some shit like that."

Gilbert sounded so nonchalant. As if he were some douchebag trying to discuss the weather. However, his words baffled me. The whole thing sounded absolutely ridiculous, nonsensical. Like something out of a really bad, moral-based action movie.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said, my voice filled with exasperation.

Was this seriously the kind of choice I had to make upon dying? Bible study sure as hell didn't prepare me for this.

"Nope. Not kidding. Pretty funny, right?" he responded, his scarlet eyes flashing, highlighting that up-to-no-good, bad boy grin of his.

"So, I get to choose whether I want to go to heaven, or become an angel? Does everyone get this choice when they die?"

"Not necessarily. Only really virtuous people who die violently get the choice. Good people that die peacefully just go straight to heaven. I guess the Big Guy saw it as a justice thing, a means of personal appeasement."

"By Big Guy...do you mean...?"

"Adonai. Yahweh. Gott. God."

I was shaking again. I knew that God was real. I was an avid Christian. I went to church, I attended bible study, I said my prayers. I made sure to live out my life as a good person for the sake of being good. I never judged others, nor did I ever reject someone for any reason. I made my mistakes, but I was only human.

Yes, God was real.

But the very fact that I was dead...that I was so close to Him...that I was to make a decision about whether I wanted to go to heaven as a peaceful soul or to be an angel...

An angel.

An angel of the Lord.

But what did that actually mean?

"Gilbert...what does it mean? To be an angel I mean?"

"I knew you'd ask. It's fucking complicated, I'll tell you that. Again, I can only give you the toddler version for now. But basically, when you choose to become an angel, you become one of God's warriors. Your main purpose is to fight off wraiths...they're these creatures from hell that cause a lot of problems on earth...they're a sort of breeding ground for sin, despair, and death. They're Satan's way of spreading his influence over mankind. I suspect you heard of the snake in the garden of Eden? Despite what the big book says, that snake wasn't necessarily Satan...but rather one of his wraiths. Unfortunately, they're not all that small either.

"Anyways, being an angel is a big responsibility. You spend the rest of eternity serving as guardian to mankind, doing everything you can to counter sin. For a while, angels used to fight wraiths alone. Nowadays they're paired with demon partners. That would be me."

Gilbert gave me a wink at that last statement. I stared at him, trying to fully comprehend what he had just told me. However, before I could fully let the weight of the situation sink in, I decided to press on with questions.

"You're a demon then? Aren't demons supposed to be bad?"

"Kesesese. We're definitely not the most moral of beings."

"So then...why are you guys helping the angels?"

"We demons are a completely different story. A story I'll save for later. I don't want to overwhelm your cute little ass so soon after your death." He let out a raucous laugh that sent chills down my spine. If I decided to work with him, we'd definitely work on subduing his creep factor for my personal sanity.

"But...I don't understand," I stuttered, staring straight at the strange man, fully taking in his eccentric appearance with this new revelation in mind. The thought made my insides icy, even though I didn't really know what it meant to be a demon.

"Let's just say that I was a less-than-decent human being who experienced some painful remorse at the moment of death, ja?"

My imagination immediately started to race. I could definitely see Gilbert being a less-than-stellar individual who got himself into a lot of trouble. I wondered if I would ever get the opportunity to ask him.

He tilted his head, surveying me just as carefully as I was surveying him. That amused smile never left his lips.

"So. What do you want to do? Better hurry the fuck up. I'm not a patient person. No one enjoys having their time wasted," he barked.

I gulped.

What did I want to do?

Did I want to go up to heaven? Live in eternal paradise? Not worry about a single thing as all pain and suffering dissipated from my individual existence? It's what I deserved right? That's what I was always taught...that those who lived with grace and virtue on earth got to go to heaven when they died.

But...that almost sounded like meaningless retirement. I tried my best to help people while alive. And I always felt amazing when someone's life was improved due to a small action on my part. I knew that small actions could make a large difference in the lives of many. And for spreading the good energy, I was offered the ultimate reward for my good deeds. Heaven.

However, was I satisfied right now? Was I satisfied with myself? I still felt an attachment to earth, there was no doubt about that. Did I really just want to leave it behind forever? To become an angel... I didn't know much about it, and it definitely sounded like hard work...but I would be helping people. I would be protecting mankind even in death. I would be treasuring and maintaining God's creation...the creatures that were created in his image. I would be a soldier for all eternity.

Did I want that?

I looked down at my mangled knees, then held my palms out. They were covered in bruises and cuts as well. With a shaky breath, I ran one of my hands from the crown of my blonde head to the bottom of my chin, realizing that the pain was returning...the pain from my death. It was as if the morphine was starting to wear off.

This pain was caused by sin. I knew that I was killed in a fit of violent rage...violence that came as a result of a wraith.

How could I not take the opportunity to fight against this? To possibly prevent it from happening to another girl like me?

I, Madeline Williams, 18 year old girl, resident of British Columbia, was dead.

And I was going to become an angel. I was going to save people.

I let my hands fall to my sides as I looked back at Gilbert.

"I guess we'll be working together then. I'm in."

He let out another one of those devious chuckles. "I had a feeling you would be."