The demon looked up from where it stood next to the body lying in the snow. It was that angel again, flying on its usual path.
The demon looked down at the barely breathing body, then up, calling to the angel:
“You remember me. We were created together, and before my fall, my horrible error, we used to fly together.”
The angel looked down, seeing the demon as it was and the body of the man a small flame, like tinder
on a low bush.
“This man I have tormented since he was a little boy. I have done my work well, convincing him that he shares my fate, that there is no Salvation for him.”
“But tell me, angel, will God have mercy on this man? Look at him crying, drunk in a snow bank, unable to rise, but fearing the cold is making that snow his grave.”
The angel was silent. The demon continued.
“His house is near. It’s right there! He could live IF he could find courage, reason, but he sees futility in life, and doesn’t feel deserving of anything but death. I have done my work well.”
“But will God save? Are you His Messenger, come to put Faith in a weak, dying vessel?”
The angel spoke.
“We both know, demon, that God will have mercy on whom He will. Look down at the clay-the fire has gone out, and there is no Salvation for this man.”The demon shook his head.
“Done. On to my next assignment. I hate my job, my existence, and I hate knowing what awaits me.”