Chapter 1

"Resurrect"

Edd Gould didn't want to die.

Edd was hardly 25 years old, almost six feet tall, with soft, wavy brown hair and warm brown eyes. His round face wasn't exactly chubby, though it wasn't thin either, and he always gave off an aura of friendliness even when he was in a bad mood.

But right now, that face that so often exuded joy was pale and covered in cuts and bruises, a few of them stitched up, a few of them sticky with clotted blood as strangled breathing escaped his throat. All this was because Edd had been in a car crash almost two days ago; t-boned by another driver in London as he returned from a routine run to Asda for groceries and Coke.

He should have died then. But he didn't. Instead, he sat, pinned in his car by the heavy and crumpled driver's door, hovering somewhere between unconsciousness and lucidity, dying and in pain. His arm had shattered in the impact. Several of his ribs were also broken or bruised - it hurt to breathe. The fumes of a cracked petrol tank made his head spin. Hot and sticky blood dripped sickeningly down his face, from his nose, his forehead, his mouth. The fire department and ambulances had just arrived and had started prying apart his crumpled driver's door when the pain became just too much, and he passed out.

Tom and Matt heard about the crash while watching television. They had been flipping idly through the channels in Tom's apartment, waiting for Edd to return when Tom landed on ZNN. At first it was just a silly story about a convention for different cars. Then an update on the Red Army taking another city in Suffolk or Kent. And finally a news flash about a car crash in London that was a suspected fatality. Tom's jaw nearly fell off when he saw the old red saloon from the helicopter view, crumpled in on one side by a silver Cadillac. Matt had turned to Tom, blue eyes wide.

"You don't suppose...?" he asked.

"Only one way to find out," Tom answered, snatching up his mobile and dialing their friend's number. It rang. And rang. It rang for thirty seconds, then went to voicemail. He tried again. And again.

And again.

The hospital contacted them at around nine o'clock that night. They rushed as quickly as they could to London, where he was at, in Tom's new car. And now they sat in their silent vigil, waiting. One hour. Two hours. Five hours. Ten hours. A day. They left only to scarf down a petrol station sandwich and bag of crisps, or to hunt for a bottle of water, or to use the hospital restrooms. They spoke only to comment on the time, or to answer the questions of the nurses asking how they were, or if they would prefer to leave Edd's side and sleep in one of the guest rooms, or go home. And always, the two young men declined in quiet, hoarse voices.

Louder than both of them was the sound of the electrocardiogram monitor, a constant reminder of every moment Edd's heart did not beat, drowning out any other thought. The doctors and nurses had done all they could. Edd had fallen into a coma. Now all the tired, pale, and anxious faces of Tom and Matt could do was hope. And pray.

And watch.

Every now and then, a lone tear would slide forlornly down Matt's freckled cheek. He hadn't washed his face or ginger hair in over a day because of his concern for his friend, his fear that if he left even for a few minutes, Edd would die. That fear showed in his puffy blue eyes and the dark bags under them, relic of hours of exhaustion as he gazed fixedly at what he could see of Edd's face from under the oxygen mask. The deep purple shadows under Tom's empty eye sockets were worse than usual as he snored gently, his head resting on Edd's leg like it were a pillow. He hadn't been able to fight sleep like Matt, and had fallen victim to exhaustion in his awkward position by the hospital bed. Both young men held one of Edd's hands - Tom the broken left, Matt the right, and both felt the steady pulse of their friend's heart. And the ECG monitor beeped continually, always reminding them where they were.

Until it flatlined.

Edd didn't see the panic that followed his death. All he knew was the dark; the hazy darkness of pain and human memory, until it stopped.

The area surrounding him suddenly lightened, becoming what looked like a meadow. A clear light filtered from what he suspected was the sky, though he had never seen a sky such a soft, pale blue. Nor had he ever seen grasses such a dark, slate green, or flowers such a pure white. He looked down at himself. His hoodie was white, like a new sheet of paper, as were his sneakers, though he still wore his khaki trousers. Something brushed against his back. He turned and was faintly puzzled at the pair of snowy white feathered wings, and by the pair of pearly white gates a little ways beyond them. But he understood quickly enough. He fell to his knees, stomach dropping. The tears came thick and fast, flowing down his face and through his fingers, falling to the ground like a cascade of jewel bright raindrops.

"Well now, we can't have this." Edd's head shot up, watery brown eyes wide as he looked from side to side, then at last behind him.

Two figures were sitting at a small gold card table set in front of the pearly gates that certainly hadn't been there a few seconds before. There were cards in their hands and several more layed out before them. Edd scrambled to his feet, but they didn't look up.

The one to the left of Edd was the more human of the two; a huge man with greying brown hair and beard, and wearing regal, flowing white robes. A golden trumpet and set of keys hung from a flaxen cord around his waist, and a pair of elegant white wings like Edd's sprouted from his back. The second man had skin as red as brick, and heavy, blog coloured robes. Two yellowed teeth poked out from his bottom jaw, past scarred bottom lips, and a set of sturdy ram's horns gets jutted from his forehead. Goat legs tapped impatiently from under the table, and a long, horned trail flicked here and there.

"Look Lou, it's not my fault you're bad at this game, so just cut your losses and go fish," said the man in white.

"Eh, excuse me?" Edd said tentatively, taking a step forward. The two men turned back to him, noticing him at last. They both smiled, though the Devil's was more of a grimace.

"Ah, the young man of the moment!" cried the angel, wings flapping and flinging his arms open wide as he stood up from his chair. His cards went flying in all directions, one of them smacking the Devil in the face do he flinched, another fluttering down like an odd white and red butterfly to Edd's feet. "So nice of you to join us!"

"Er, who are you?"

The angel man gestured to a red and white sticker on his chest, like the ones you saw at a convention or get together, on which was written a name in bold black letters. "I am Saint Peter," he answered grandly, bowing and straightening back up again, pointing at Edd now. "And you are Edward Gould. I'm sure you're wondering why you are here."

"Aren't I... Aren't I dead?" Saint Peter scratched his chin a moment, watching Edd curiously.

"Well... Yes, I suppose one could say that you are dead. However, it's entirely possible one could also say that you have simply reached a crossroads."

"What?"

"Oh, stop trying to confuse the boy, Pete," interrupted Lucifer, standing up himself and sauntering over. He looked right at Edd who noticed, like he had years ago, that he had no irises. "Look m'boy, you're dead right now. Dead as a doornail, expired like old milk, gone your way to join a choir on cloud nine. But the Big Man and I need a favor done, and we think you're the one that can pull it off."

"I don't get it," Edd said, holding his hands up in question. "You're saying that I'm dead? But I'm not?"

"We're saying that you've not yet entered through the Gates of Heaven," answered Peter calmly. "I have a mission, so to say, from the Father above, to meet you at the gates and offer you your life back if you accept his mission."

"Basically-"

"Yes, thank you, Lou!"

"What? I'm just telling him how things are," shrugged Lucifer, picking at something nonchalantly between his yellowed teeth. Saint Peter rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Edd's mind swam with questions he couldn't form into words. Honestly, if he were having this hard a time wrapping his head around the idea that he could come back to life, he would have exploded with information on how the universe worked.

"Yes, well, moving on now. What do you say, Edd m'boy?" Edd's head shot up, brown eyes wide.

"But I still don't understand what you want," he said, brows knitted together in intense confusion.

"You watch the news, right boy?" asked the Devil. Edd nodded slowly. "Then you'll know that a whole lot of people are dying right now because of a certain group of vigilantes who go by the name of the Red Army."

"There's been an influx of the dead to both Heaven and Hell alike," said Saint Peter patting the Devil on the shoulder. Clouds of steam rose from the places where his hand fell. "And frankly, Heaven can't handle it right now; reconstruction has been way too crazy. And both the Father, Lou here, and I know that you and your friends have a close connection with one of the most pivotal figures in the Red Army."

"In not sure what you're on about," said Edd nervously.

"Of yes you do," laughed Lucifer, jabbing Edd in the chest with a hot finger, forcing him a step back, new wings flapping a little in alarm. "You know him all too well, boy. You're not likely to forget young men you live with and trust before they leave you for years and come back to stab you in the back. You know exactly who we're talking about."

Edd's heart sank. He looked down and whispered one word. "Tord..."

Tord Larsson. They had known each other since kindergarten, grown up together, gone through so much. A couple zombie apocalypses, Tom's hatred for Christmas, and so much more before he moved away. But when he returned, nearly three months ago, he was different. A liar, a murderer, a leader. And he had tried to destroy everything he and his friends had worked so hard to build before Tom had struck down his giant robot. So... He had lived after all.

"So, Edd, will you accept?"

Edd looked up at the two men incredulously. "Is this a joke?"

Saint Peter and Lucifer both looked puzzled and were about to speak when Edd continued. "Of course I want to go back!"

Lucifer started to laugh - a loud guffaw that deteriorated into the hacking coughs of an old smoker. Saint Peter looked mildly annoyed, thumbing his gold trumpet. "Well, he accepted! Cough up, Pete! I told you the boy would take life over immortality, didn't I?"

Saint Peter sighed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Yes yes, I'll pay you later, now go away, Lou." Saint Peter reached into his robes, withdrawing something that looked like a lily petal. He gazed long and hard at Edd, who squirmed a little with discomfort under the piercing blue stare. All trace of joking was gone from his face, leaving it serious and regal looking, like it had been carved from stone. Lucifer sobered up as well, watching the guardian of the pearly white gates in the distance with what could almost be described as reverence, if the Devil could be considered reverent.

"Listen to me, angel. It is not often I grant a soul a second chance at life. But The Father Above has granted me permission to return you to mortality if you swear to lead a meaningful life and try to the best of your abilities to defeat the Red Army. Be warned, angel, that both the Devil Lucifer and I know when beings lie to us, and that you will be sent with him to Hell if you do so. Do you accept these terms, Edward Gould?"

"Yes," answered Edd firmly, nodding once, and he meant it, with all his heart. Saint Peter and the Devil exchanged a smile.

"Your fate has been sealed. As you are on an errand from the Holy One Above, I bestow upon you gifts. Firstly, you will suffer no repercussions from your death. And secondly, when the time comes, I hadn't you the power of the Angels of Heaven on your side."

"And by my own unholy power, I grant you a gift of my own: the power of Death. Be wary though, Angel. Using this power against another man may cause your death as well as his. Use it wisely." Satan glared at Edd a moment more, then burst into flames. Edd speed in surprise and jumped back. When the heat finally faded, he chanced a glance. Lucifer had gone. Saint Peter sighed again.

"He always did have a flair for the dramatic. However, he'd him well, Edd. The Devil may lie for a living, but his lies have a ring of truth to them."

"What do you mean?"

"The universe is a realm of penance. Everything has a price. You've heard the term 'an eye for an eye'. If you use the power bestowed to you by Lucifer, your chances of dying aren't a maybe. They are a certainty. Be careful where you tread." Saint Peter shook his head sorrowfully, and beckoned for Edd to come closer. He complied after a moment's hesitation. The huge man lifted the lily petal higher and said, "Edward Gould, by the holy power vested in me, I return you to mortality on a mission from God the Father and the Devil Lucifer."

He lowered the flower petal so it touched Edd right between the eyes, light as air and cool as water.

And everything faded to black.

A/N Muh hahah! Enjoy that? I hope it was a feels trip :) I enjoyed writing it waaaay too much. Heeheheh. So, this is chapter one. Yep. IDK what the story is going to be called FOR SURE YET, and also, if any of you ARE BRITS, tell me if there is any slang a lot of people use a lot, or any slang I have in here that you DON'T USE, tell me please. All I have to go off are Harry Potter and Narnia audiobooks, old Top Gear episodes, and the odd youtube video :'D So plz halp.

Soo... Enjoy! Love yourselves, COMMENT (plz), check out my other works, and enjoy life!

~File_13

P/A/N Just a few minor changes. I changed a bit in the plot, sooo... Had to change a couple things. Also, America, right side of the road. Everywhere else, LEFT side of the road -v-' I thought about that the whole time writing this and I STILL messed up XD

~File_13