Punched by an Angel
by Henry Wyckoff
A crossover between Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, Millennium, and Touched by an Angel
Kermit nearly spat, "What the hell is wrong with this picture? You tell me!"
Monica faced him, not even afraid of the gun, "I'll tell you what's wrong; you're so obsessed with ridding the world of what you see as evil that you can't even see the good anymore." She took off his shades. "Why don't you see the world with your own eyes for a change?" Kermit blinked. The light was too strong. "Maybe that's the first time in a long time that you've seen any kind of light."
Latro put his hand on Andrew's shoulder, "I know you're not going to believe me, but for all the Angels I've killed, I'm truly sorry you got in the way."
Andrew wasn't sure if he was going to laugh or get angry at the man, "Is that some attempt at an apology?"
"Look. Think about what an apology is. If you willfully commit an action and apologize, does it mean that you wish you didn't do it? No, because you really wanted to make that action in the first place. I'm just saying that I didn't want you to get in the way."
Kermit and Monica looked at Latro. Monica asked, "Are you saying that you still wish you could kill me?"
"No. Yes. I don't know anymore. Let's just say that your naive innocence has really been getting to me. I mean, I'm stalking you and Andrew, you're in earshot, and you're putting on this big act about, 'I can't believe the mortals can't hear God!' Not only do you have no sense of reality, you have no tact."
Kermit, surprisingly, nodded. "It's like waving a bloody stump at a man who's just lost his arm." He may have understood, but he still was ready to use his gun at a moment's notice.
Monica's features softened, "All this killing. You've done it because you hope that God will speak to you directly."
"Yes." Tears started to fall down his face. "You have no idea what it's like to aimlessly wander the earth. Why? Because I was doing my God-damned job!"
"Huh?" His listeners were puzzled now.
"Look. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to get some whiskey ordered. I know you Angels don't drink, but this is a whiskey story, and I'm going to need it. You like Glenmorangie?" He looked at Kermit as he went to pick up the phone.
Monica smiled. For a brief moment, there was a faint glow from her hands, and she produced a bottle. "When it comes to the water of life, there's no purer source than God."
Surprised, Latro looked at the bottle. The label said "Heavenly Distillery" -- Latro looked at her again.
She shrugged, "Tess has quite an extensive collection of spirits."
"Thank you." Pulling out his Swiss army knife, he smiled, "Reason 23 to carry a Swiss army knife; it has a corkscrew." Yanking out the cork, he took a sniff. "Peat smell. Not Highland whiskey, but it's quite good." He raised his eyebrow, "But what else should I expect from an Irish lass?"
"Don't you go there . . . " she almost looked like she was about to slap him, and Latro laughed.
The whiskey and the momentary banter certainly lightened the mood, but when Latro realized it, he began to realize what he was really missing in life, and it made him bitter-happy now. "Kermit?"
Kermit shook his head.
"Okay . . . here's to You." He looked above and took a slam. After shaking his head more than a few times, he began his story.
"I know you're probably not going to believe it, even though some of you have seen me come back to life more than a few times. How old would you guess I am? I'll tell you, and I don't even have to do much math; 17 B.C. Yep. That means that I'm 2015 years old. Does the age bring any possibilities to mind?
"I'll tell you.
"I'm of Celtic-German descent and knowing that, my age should tell you that I was most likely a soldier. I was a Roman soldier. The Romans hired foreign mercenaries to run the armies in those growing days of decadence, and I was stationed in Jerusalem. A pretty exotic location, especially for that day and age.
"It was my second week there, and I was a young buck.
"In Greece, I'd doubled up as a private guardsman, which meant that I had some money left to spend. I was a man and a soldier, so naturally I'd get drunk. By noontime, I was staggering down the streets, that's how loaded I was. By mid-afternoon, it was a curse if I was still standing, not a miracle. If there was a miracle, I'd be drunk and dead by the time I was forty. I'm still here, so you know that much.
"Well, who else encounters me down the road one day but these arrogant Jews. They were native Jews, that was for sure, and they were so arrogant they couldn't see past their own noses. One of the guys tells me in very good Latin, 'Drunkenness is an affront to the eyes of God.'
"That got me pissed off, especially since I was born a German and worshipped the God of the Rainbow, who'd get so drunk he could see the stars during the daytime. You can guess what happened. I slammed my metal-enforced knee into the guy's crotch and slammed my cestus into his temple for good measure. 'Who else wants some of this?' I waved the cestus in their faces.
"Their leader, a bearded ascetic, looked at me and actually spoke in the German that I knew, as if he'd been born in my village. 'You made a big mistake.'
"'Yeah? You want to make something out of it? What are you going to do?'
"'Why . . . nothing.'
"It was much later when I found out what that would mean. Nothing. I wouldn't age. I wouldn't die. But what else does 'nothing' mean? It meant that I wouldn't be a part of the world around me. I wouldn't be known or loved, or even hated, because even if I killed a million men or saved a million, nobody would remember me after a week of passing. As time passed, I had no connection with anyone. As time passed, and I became more familiar with the god of the Jews -- Christianity wasn't even a religion then -- I started praying in earnest.
"I prayed but God ignored me.
"For two thousand years, I've travelled the world, searching for wisdom that would lead me to release. Before it was even fashionable, I meditated in hill-side caves. I travelled to India and China. I walked to South Africa and conversed with the shamans before the First Crusade was fought. I'd sailed to the Americas by the time the First Crusade was waged. I went to Tibet and prostrated myself before the Ocean of Wisdom.
"No culture or religion was taboo. I went everywhere, talked to everyone, and learned from everyone.
"For more years than most people ever wish to live, I was alive, and searching for the truth that would set me free. It finally hit me during the '80s. I could tell who was Angel and who was mortal. That at least, I could sense. So, I figured I'd start killing them until God noticed. Or at least, that's the way it turned out." He sighed. "It was in Santa Fe that it happened. I was quite sober when I encountered Auric. I questioned him and got the usual 'believe without proof' bullshit, and who comes in but Odin. He nails the Angel to the cross and leads me into the desert. For forty days, he shows me what I needed to know.
"I soon forgot my mission. I wanted to speak to God, and instead, I started to kill Angels. Maybe getting arrested was the best thing that could happen to me, and not necessarily to the Angels. When I got a good look at Arioch, I realized what I'd become; just another petty child lashing out."
With that, Latro left, and only Kermit tried to follow him. He wasn't surprised to find that Latro wasn't in the hallway.
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