Disguised as fiction, The Angel Chronicles takes you to a world undiscovered . . . the real world and a world of personal discovery. It chronicles the life of Rene Thomas Colby. Just a man or so he thought. Until he discovers how to start believing and understanding his feelings for what he feels at the deepest reaches of his heart. He battles problems of the mind, fears, and doubts to discover what he doubted was his truth and the truth of so many. Through his trials and tribulations, he discovers the one thing he had lost for so long . . . his heart. On his journey of self-discovery, he finds out there is another like him, only she doesn't realize the journey in which she is partaking. It becomes a battle to aid her into coming out of the darkness as he is attempting. He realizes a mission. If she could only open up to the truth and gather the knowledge, he tries to give her. She too might really enjoy her purpose and, that she actually has purpose and her existence accounts for something in the multitudes of what is abnormal. In addition, just how important she really is to the souls of FS-3.Can Rene find the strength to understand his feelings? Will Rene seek to fight for those who really need him? Can Rene bring her out of the darkness while he too stands in that darkness? Can he find a way to understand its limits, walk out of that darkness, and be the abnormal thing he knows deep down he is? Can he find the strength to admit it and believe it without doubting his heart again?

The Angel Chronicles

Book One: Angel in the DarknessBy GD Thompson, Sr.

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 GD Thompson, Sr.
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-0654-3

Contents

Introduction Of Death and Consequence...............................................xixChapter 1 Lost in the Shadows.......................................................1Chapter 2 From Soul to Saint........................................................18Chapter 3 Of the Lost ... the Leader................................................26Chapter 4 A glimpse at the shades of Darkness.......................................31Chapter 5 Of Angels and the moment to query.........................................40Chapter 6 The Sanctity of Death within the Fallen...................................46Chapter 7 Of dreams and disappointments.............................................53Chapter 8 A mission to close........................................................59Chapter 9 Of insanity and Tools.....................................................65Chapter 10 A Cursing of Angels......................................................71Chapter 11 The Sanctity of Father and Daughter......................................80Chapter 12 The Last of Dreams ... and a hope for Souls..............................85Chapter 13 The Truth in a Name......................................................92Chapter 14 The Early Angel..........................................................98Chapter 15 Intervention.............................................................103Chapter 16 A Prelude to Adoration and a Moment......................................106Chapter 17 Dissension in evil.......................................................110Chapter 18 Lovers or Angels.........................................................113Chapter 19 A Stronger Foe...........................................................117Chapter 20 The Devil's playground...................................................122Chapter 21 To Love, Prelusion and Forever...........................................130Chapter 22 An angel lost............................................................134Chapter 23 The reason to dream......................................................144Chapter 24 The angel, the Son and a promise.........................................160Chapter 25 The Confession...........................................................170Chapter 26 A Reunion with Love......................................................181Chapter 27 The Collision of Influence...............................................187Chapter 28 Angelic silence..........................................................195Chapter 29 In contemplation from Heaven.............................................199Chapter 30 A Distant Longing........................................................202Chapter 31 A Moment to Cherish......................................................205Chapter 32 The memory of Home.......................................................208Chapter 33 The Easy, the Perverted..................................................215Chapter 34 The witch-hunt and the paradox...........................................219Chapter 35 A Heavenly Recollection..................................................225Chapter 36 Bound to life, Humanity and the missions of an angel.....................230Chapter 37 Of Death and Consequence II ... no fear..................................236Chapter 38 A glimpse ... a new life.................................................240Chapter 39 A lighter side in Evil...................................................248Chapter 40 Owed to One's Mate.......................................................256Chapter 41 The Reunion..............................................................262Chapter 42 An Enlightening of Evil in the Shrouds of Darkness.......................271Chapter 43 In the Valley of Good and Evil...........................................279Chapter 44 The value of the insane, the angel.......................................288Chapter 45 To the Hell that is......................................................293Chapter 46 The Conflict for Influence...............................................300Chapter 47 The Kinship..............................................................318Chapter 48 An interlude ... the mere past...........................................334Chapter 49 Resolution...............................................................349Chapter 50 The Acquisition of Good and Evil.........................................362Chapter 51 The angelic mate and the restitute.......................................374Chapter 52 To save the Fallen.......................................................391Chapter 53 If the Angel is Good Enough..............................................414Chapter 54 In addition, that had passed ............................................430Chapter 60 Owed to the Saints.......................................................438Chapter 61 The Killing fields.......................................................450Chapter 62 The abuse of Youthful embers.............................................464Chapter 63 A Diplomatic Rendezvous..................................................475Chapter 64 A time to reminisce......................................................493Chapter 65 A quest for Virtue.......................................................506Chapter 66 The Quest for the lead...................................................524Chapter 67 The New Saint Divine.....................................................540Chapter 68 Awake fair angel ........................................................547Chapter 69 A prelude to life .......................................................555Chapter 70 The Precious Child.......................................................564Chapter 71 A Step through Heaven....................................................570Chapter 72 The Brutality, the Affect and the Soul...................................577Chapter 73 The Hidden Enemy.........................................................587Chapter 74 Approach of the Council..................................................597Chapter 75 "Just one soul for the reaping," He said!................................602Chapter 76 The Continued Battle.....................................................609Chapter 77 A Relinquishing of Knowledge.............................................620Chapter 78 No rest ... for the Seraph...............................................624Chapter 79 Patronage of the Metra...................................................628Chapter 80 The unplanned Parent.....................................................632

Chapter One

Lost in the Shadows

July 2007

The journey en passage to truth and understanding of one's self and potential begins with the discernment of one's peculiarities and attributes, choices and decisions. All throughout his youthful life, Rene held to some emotional peculiarity and quirks concerning his mirror image, he questioned his position, his confusion, though vast bits and pieces of him were not comparable to the intricate complexities within humanity. He felt alien to the rest of society. His beliefs and opinions seemed out of place. Somehow, he felt as though he didn't belong. He was twenty- something once, possessing controversial emotions and doubt of the proper world and apposite work ethic. Perhaps it was his own disgust for personally retaining money within the ease of good and just, hard work. Monetary gains, it was a shame, the lengths at which some gained successfully and its possibility and rate of likelihood, such as the story he had heard concerning a woman and her husband with the woman in a vegetative state and had been for a while. The husband made a lot of money on her condition, but returned very little to her in care and concern for her well-being. The thought that he ordered her nurses not to brush Merry's teeth was very disturbing. The problem with the situation, according to Rene was the fact that her eventual death was the direct result of her husband's loss and lack of love for his wife. Rene knew deep down, arguably, that if her husband might have shown the love she needed, she might have found the desire to go on living or in other words, find the strength to fight the vegetative state she had been in. She was a cognizant soul in some form. There are times when the average human might not be able to express themselves as in a vegetative state, but if you can send them empowerment in the form of the love you can give, then they will understand deep within and be capable of overturning the physical affects that brought them to the vegetative state. So to say, it just might be their reason to live. What was true in this case was the husbands love for money and the fact that he already had a replacement spouse lined up and, in secret his wife knew this even though she could not express this knowledge and that was her power to die, not the so called withdrawing of the feeding tube as was foretold by doctors.

Rene set aside the folly of human souls for one of his own proclivities. He thought of earning money. It was commonplace, responsible even, earning a living, and the satisfaction attached, yet he was not possessive of a certain liking to it. He felt like a stranger or alien in a world where earning that living seemed to be the essence of life. Heaviness hung about him always at the arrival hour to depart, en route for work. There are not many more improved challenges in what he was doing or new ventures, considering Rene was possessive of a resume of more than twenty-six varied jobs before the recent one and in a twelve-year span since he was parentally and lawfully allowed to work at all. His resume, however, seemed to end with the current employer. He had the power of fighting off the negativity and lack of desire to work or the nit picking of the job and faultfinding between employees with a reminder that for some supposed reason he was where he needed to be, although he never fully understood the whole reason thing. It was on that premise that he found the strength to purge forward, move on because something nagged at him that he was very important to humanity and there again for some strange reason.

He thought quickly as he sat on the porch, of his book of poetry and its sale and the others to follow. He thought that would give him the life he really wanted, not fully realizing or actualizing it presently. Somewhere inside the nagging feeling to write, a novel became to him, but he could not think of anything of a story line with strong interest he could write about or that might sell itself.

Rene really wanted to call in sick to work that day. He was stricken a second day with a very sore throat, runny nose and overall bodily weakness. He just could not go to work sick. He definitely was not motivated. Therefore, he wound up calling in sick and that was probably the sixth time within the first five months of the year. He thought with previous employers he had to work when he was sick. Not because anyone said so, but he got the negative vibes when he would return to work after being sick. It angered him that no one seemingly had compassion. It was frustrating and that became the very motivation for his negativity towards those who would expect him to work when he was sick.

Rene tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Within a singular gathering of his thoughts, sturdily and securely, the rocker's valiance and healthy creation supported his mental observations of the front courtyard through the coughing and sniffling. In his illness, he strolled through the moments when he was a youth and something happened to his mother. He thought of the day she died, and he and his brother ran across the street to their father's office from their home. Having been on an army base, his office was close to the house. With their mother having just collapsed, they were scared and could not wait for him to come home. Rene fell in tears as he sat there in contemplation of how it felt as he ran with stocking feet to meet their father at his office. When they got back home, the ambulance had already arrived from their sister's call. The paramedics had worked on Rene's mother for a short time when they returned with their father. An ambulance took her to the hospital. Rene recalled the strong sense of sadness from that day. Then that night when he and his siblings found out that their mother had passed on. He and his siblings along with their father all huddled on the porch floor weeping from the loss. Rene recalled his father when he claimed that he could not do it alone.

It took endurance and strength to lose or misplace a parent or any loved one, but for a child of six, it struck the awe and took apart a seemingly perfect world. As for mothers, Rene's was a little slice of Heaven. His realization became years after her passing, and the profoundness of two stepmothers through twelve years. In retrospect, he recalled his seemingly ageless, youthful self, realizing his stepparents' efforts at being parental figures, knowing he had become to love them as well because he would rather love than hate. Rene tossed and turned through the night. He threw the covers between both sides of the room as he slept. The nightmares were continuous as was his confusion regarding his mother's passing. It would have meant something, having the answers laid before him, like a spreadsheet, an easy and distinctive map, exhibitory of two consequential and sequential points to why she passed away. Currently, his embodiments of action leading to awareness of reason resembled exiting his bed, attempting another day.

Later that day, Rene felt better after having slept for a couple hours. He knew the Taurus had been in need of a fill up. He drove to the gas station for a few items and fuel and myriads passed him surprisingly in thought, questions to answer without time as a marker. He guided his miniscule and white rectangle as the questions pushed him within his farthest reaches, questioning whom and what he is, noticing things instilling difference to and with an uncanny feeling towards humanity, familiar to a bond with it. It was like a bee attempting an escape from itself and its purposes. It was like bear ignoring his duty at retrieving the salmon in the river or convincing himself otherwise and what that meant.

Suddenly, without warning, the feeling that he is an angel struck him like a baseball in the chest at healthy and strong forces, rattling him unmistakably. His vehicle became uncontrollable. It swerved, crossing the dividing lines, referenced to his lane. He withdrew from the main road into Festival Park where he could regain his composure.

He reversed the ignition key, turning to the rearview mirror, staring internally, and mindfully, considered the feeling with such scrutiny and query, shaking his head. Recognizing fresh air as a commodity and healthful, decidedly ingesting it with a quick walk around the park, coincidently that possibly mistakable feeling, in all of his wondrous human qualities and characteristics was truth wholly.

Suddenly a dream from the night before came to him in memory. It was the strangest dream. It spoke of a gathering of winged things. They are angels, he thought, as he considered the content of the dream. It was an odd one to be sure. Suddenly he thought of his part in the crowd. It seemed like as he recalled that he was a seemingly invisible voice floating around the crowd. The others talked, laughed, and made jokes while Rene was a bystander. He came out of the memory with a sense or feeling of internal peace at the thought. He put his mind into the moment and withdrew from the vision.

Somehow, he envisioned the emotional points of the coming months, perhaps years with his glimpses of what he is. Something told him there were many tears on the way, but that was because deep inside being what he is did not always hold to the greatest memories. Perhaps that is why there might have been confusion, he thought, within me in addition, about what I am. Because there were many negative things that happened, he further thought. He envisioned those crying spells in anticipation and then thought about how there was a sense of hesitation with trusting his feelings. Perhaps the lack of trust was not necessarily trust, but a distaste for what happened somehow. Maybe he knew what he had to go through to remember, but then after the initial memory was over the sadness and tears would stop. One thing he glimpsed in premature sadness was how the children were treated and by the parents that were supposed to love them. Sometimes it was loved ones and family of the kids and perhaps strangers. Children are the future! This he knew all too well. He also knew the way to a bright future was to give the children brighter days. He glimpsed his tears on the negative treatment of children, which again overflowed into the treatment of others as adults. Things appeared bleak on just the premise of the negativity of social interaction. He knew he had to engulf strength, take it under his wing and embrace it and eventually the tears he glimpsed would be over.

Kayleen eyed herself in the mirror. She found an appreciation for what she had become, but somewhere deep down she thought of appearing thinner in the past. She was never actually thin framed, but she was never rounded either as she was currently. Somewhere she had let herself go. She took a deep look internally and thought she saw something magnificent, but she also thought it was her insanity coming out. There was nothing magnificent in me, she thought, I am just plain and ordinary.

Kayleen was thoughtful of Rene. She considered their relations preceding her parental examples' abuse of power, requesting her to move in with an aunt in Alabama. Feelings and thoughts of him betrayed her emotionally, but she reconciled their time together and the ending of good things, tearfully if necessary. She wiped her swollen eyes, spread the heavy bed linens, and readied them for a neat fold. Lonesome and friendless and having only been two months in the new apartment, she was hopeful in going back to Florida where she had a child's beginning. The sullen and despondent Kayleen awaited the move for a long time, she reminisced thoughtfully, finishing up with the bed linens, and sometimes tearing up at life's eventual lacking, not contrary to that of her, the mere child.

Possessive thoughtfully of her teenage man, she helped her anger concerning the past, the pregnancy, and departing from friends. Silent recollection was causal to the dizziness of harsh reality and life's changes since the move with recognizing to internal and deep hurt, referring to her creature, the eternally loving, born child. She finally broke down that morning after the torment, the heaviness of not choosing her son, but another cousin. She wept, throwing herself into the bed linens and within the better part of the hour concerning the visions of her son after birth and the once neat and dry, sheets were torn asunder by her anguish.

She withstood time at the folding table; the elongated, thick brown-haired woman lacked in replacement of the past with the anticipation of a new life, she knew equated with the succession of knocking down ten pins with anything less than a completely spherical object on flooring that was more hill than flat, possessing more sand than smooth surface. She reconciled her action as the worst, without a fight, alluding to a way out for or of herself and the darkness that dwelt hatefully. She fought timelessly to lacking in kind warmth, but acted seemingly coldly and inconsistently, distanced to everything and, bereft of the consolation to discarding the past, moving on. Atop the quake of a personal and female soul, she was warped within a cold blanket of disgust. A lone tear ran the length of that feminine cheek as a tremor within her being was a cause to the floor, fitting of anguish in sobs, loudly and profusely.

She withdrew into the years of childhood amongst her dark inner feelings. They currently marked her position in life. It was emotional uncertainty as two dissimilar gunmen in a showdown at high noon. Her brown hair aligned without order, the white and tiled flooring. Her right ear was kissing of it and endured the tears and anguish, eyeing her lying proximity regarding the washroom. She felt compressed within confined spaces and the years of repressed emotion that her mother so eloquently instilled, never having confessed the contrary. She thought hatefully of her mother and cursed her choices, contrary of the position she took upon her daughter's birth.

The journey en passage to and of confusion soulfully is set individually in motion with a death of belief in one's self. Thomas Gandy was equipped with awareness to the perplexity of his own life, thoughtfully reconciled, sitting on a park bench in the middle of downtown Orlando penniless and, without a pitiful life to sustain. The broken man, whose consolation rounded an open, stolen bottle of whiskey, was actually drunk more by his intrinsic misfortunes than the store's liquor, molested by the states of consciousness which rape the soul of its worth and dignity. Disparity and destitution within and not without the man self known as Mr. Gandy are his disdainful kind, more than the human disposition he once prescribed, but subscribed to.

Four months previous to the day was his last good one, long forgotten through the countless and exasperating battles he spent; homeless, riddled with self-pity and, mocked by his own rejection; the onlookers could have meant one less laugh and pitiless joke. Humanity and kindness, oxymoronic states were merely reflected within and of his true self. Self-realization, good, bad or indifferent, was a task, accepting his place within the dredge of society, those who could have more, but rely on the modes of self-pity and grief, not to mention booze for permission to another twenty-four hours.

The sun rested high in the afternoon sky with excessive heat, instilling discomfort and disclosing his personal bad odor; unwanted but deserved or so decadence would have it. That was just like misery; it made the good things bad and the bad things even worse, but from where he was sitting, the uncertainty of his place to say so loomed about him like a gag. Thomas wiped the sweat from his brow, eyed the hand with its salty and gritty disposition, and cringed at the thought of his sickening, unkempt form.

The newest member to club homeless, as he saw it, purged forward, withstanding a minute, his torn slacks and shirt left a residual dust cloud amidst the air encircling him and, a trail as he walked with the embarrassment and ache sleeping on any bench instilled. He was amazed, permitted sleep on the bench, lakeside without disturbance, considering this town was not usually good about ignorance to or tolerance of the destitute; He was without consolation in luck as to sleep in the park unscathed. Thoughtful to it and awake, he realized a kinship with humanity concerning inconsistency; shamefully displaying vigor, the oily haired, forty-something person hung his head as he walked, staggering with the residual stolen liquor, not wanting it, but deficient of eye contact with other, better souls than he.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from The Angel Chroniclesby GD Thompson, Sr. Copyright © 2010 by GD Thompson, Sr.. Excerpted by permission.
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