It wasn’t easy delivering the message to Michael, but it was much harder hearing the message. Michael stood up and exasperated, “What?” His eyes were bright gold from shock and he felt dizzy. Michael killed Thomas Pitch and saw the death with his own eyes. He put Pitch’s life to an end. “No,” he shook his head in outright disbelief, “That’s impossible. That is figuratively impossible. I killed him.” He collapsed on his chair and rubbed his face all over with his hands, incredulous. He stared off in the distance, overgoing the memory of Pitch’s death, seeing if there was some mistake he did or if there was a mere chance he escaped somehow.

Kate sat down on the chair across from Michael, wiping her bloody nose, “Michael, you know I would not lie to you about this.”

Michael didn’t look at her as he nodded. The fifth time he asked, “You are okay though?”

Kate answered, “Yes.” She stretched, hearing some popping noise, “I swear it was him. Or someone who could be mimicking him.”

“And you were certain he had the color of lavender eyes?”

“Yes,” replied Kate.

Michael leaned close to her, “It’s not the real Thomas Pitch.” He bit down on his thumb, thinking, “But why would someone mimic him? What would be the point?”

Kate shrugged, “I guess a scare factor?”

Michael sighed, “Thank you, Kate. Get some rest. I need to be alone for a few minutes.”

Kate nodded, hurt spreading across her body, this time mental. She knew he needed a break to reflect on what he just heard, but she thought...oh she didn’t know what she thought. “Call me if you need anything.”

Michael asked, “One last question, did he seem like Thomas Pitch? Did you sense how powerful he was?”

Kate chewed on the bottom of her lips, “Yes. Before I even saw him,” she cast her eyes at Michael, “I could feel a horrible strong presence that was unlike any other. He was powerful, no doubt.”

Michael leaned back in his chair, “Thank you.”

Kate saw this as Michael excused her and she left, without another word. She glanced back at her boss worriedly and quietly close the glass door behind her.

Michael did a warm smile at her and when the door closed, he let out a groan. How could he make a mistake like this? If Lucifer knew something about this, he would call me, right? And he would endless mock me for doing such a foolish mistake. He stood up, now pacing his office in a worried manner. Lucifer wanted him dead. He told me so when he brought Pitch to me. We agreed on it. Michael wondered if Lucifer raised Pitch from the dead. But that kind of energy Michael was certain Lucifer wouldn’t waste on.

It could be someone else. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions without evidence he didn’t have—but Kate stated that she saw Pitch with her firm eyes of correctness.

How is this even possible? The Archangel was trying so hard to wrap around this process, but it was overbearing. Should I try to call Lucifer? Michael drummed his fingers against his desk. Kate had told him Pitch told her that he want her to say hi to Michael. But what was the purpose behind that?

“Why didn’t he kill Kate when he had the chance?” Michael asked himself. This man was obviously up to something, but what he was planning frightened the Archangel.

Michael gazed out of his window. He decided to wait it out for a while. Whoever this was, Pitch or not, he could not jump into something he didn’t fully understand. He understood, however, that this person was planning something bad for sure, but what it was... he didn’t know.

I don’t understand why he would announce himself. He wants me to know he’s after me and my people. But what’s the point?

Michael tried to come up with explanations, but could not find any that suited what was happening or answered his daunting questions. He eyed his telephone which sat on his desk and picked up the phone. He knew who to call first.

And it wasn’t Lucifer.

Sara tugged on the hood of her dark navy cloak. She could feel the comfortable familiarity of the end of the cloak swirling underneath her as she walked gracefully down sidewalks. Her black ankle boots clicked against the pavement gently and her hair was tucked behind her ears. She was hidden from the world in her cloak, and a sense of comfort spread inside her. Although she glanced warily around as she stepped three stairs up to a small shop.

As she opened the door, bells rang and she stepped into cool air. She scanned around the small shop, only seeing the person behind the desk as the only one there besides her. She started to walk around the room, gazing around, looking for a specific potion.

After ten minutes of silence, the register inquired friendly, “Is there something you are looking for, ma’am?”

Sara traced her fingers along the names of each potion. Each potion was made out of glass and most of them had a shining glow to the liquid to allure the buyer. She turned to him and asked, her voice smooth, “Do you have a potion that stops voices in your head...or seeing someone in your head?” Her cheeks blossomed red as she asked, embarrassed of such a silly question.

The wizard studied her for a second, “Ah, I haven’t had anyone ask me that for almost two years.” He looked the hooded figure up and down, seeing the tip of the ankle boots and pale hands casting out, “You must be Sara.” He chuckled, “You have grown.”

Sara asked, trying to hide her shock, “How did you know it was me?”

The wizard, whose name tag was Ismaeel replied, “Ah, no one has such an alluring sweet voice besides Michael. And no one has asked for that potion since Michael came here in two years.” He sighed and gave her a pitied look, “Hallucinating again?”

Sara frowned, “The hallucinating never stopped. I just stopped taking the medicine, but my hallucination is distracting father from his important work.”

Ismaeel said, “Ah, I see.” He waved a hand to Sara, “Give me a second while I look behind the room. I know we still have some potions left.” He went inside the backroom through beaded colorful curtains.

Sara stood there, grabbing her other arm tightly. Michael had suggested stopping the medicine. It helped for a few weeks but seemed to wear off. Sara was willing to give anything a try now to stop the man she kept seeing every damn day. There was no break and it frustrated her that her father was averting his attention to her because she told him.

Since she was seven, she has always seen the same man, Sal. She saw him for a few days and then he disappeared just like when he appeared, unannounced. Sara was glad when Sal left and she thought he was some imagined friend she made up. But when she was in her fourteen, he came back and never left. He stick with her like glue and annoyed the shit out of her.

And Sara knew he enjoyed each moment when she was annoyed. Although, when she got pissed off with him, she could always see the curiosity on his face and turn kind to her. Sara couldn’t even understand why this was happening to her. There was no point or reason she was seeing him. She didn’t want him and wished every second of every day he would leave her and forever disappear.

She always asked him why he stayed with her, but he answered the same question, “Because, you are special to me.”

Bullshit.

Ismaeel came back to the counter and put down three potions, “Alright, I have some more in stock if you need more, but your body tone looks desperate.”

Sara had forgotten her hood was still on and she slipped it off.

Ismaeel's bronze-skinned face lightened up, “Ah, there’s that pretty girl. You are a beautiful young lady. I know your father is proud to have you.”

Sara blinked at him and hugged herself uncomfortable as if she was cold, “Thanks.”

“Aw,” Ismaeel smiled kindly, “No need to be shy.”

The words caught her off guard. I know your father is proud to have you. Sara’s thoughts hissed a peal of laughter: Is he though? Sara had her doubts and knew for a certainty that Michael would probably be happier if Kate was his daughter. A perfect, well-respected young lady which every hero and angel loved.

The angels and heroes, all glare at me. Of course, being a part of a demon didn’t help. Sara looked angelic but had demonic mood swings. Of which her father just called it...teenager attitude.

She didn’t understand why Michael took her in.

Ismaeel gave another smile and put his hands on the counter, “You don’t think he loves you?”

Sara started to object, “Well...”

Ismaeel shook his head, “Dear, he loves you. I know I haven’t seen you guys about for a while, but the way he looks at you, it’s like you are heaven itself or the key to it at least.”

Sara blushed, “Thank you. I know he does.”

The wizard shrugged, “I thought someone needed to remind you, just in case.” He gave her a wink, “Speaking of which, isn’t it your birthday soon?”

Sara looked down at the shining purple shimmer and answered, “Well, yes.”

“Sixteen, aye?”

Sara chuckled nervously, not sure why she was nervous at all. Maybe the thought of someone confirming the positive things that she never took for granted? She knew Michael loved her, but it was hard to see when he was busy when she was being mocked for being his daughter by her people and everyone telling her that she didn’t live up to the standards or deserve the title to be Michael’s daughter.

Agh, overthinking who people expect me to be and who I am. Dad loves me. Sara has he asked you to change, no, never! So just, fucking stop it. Sara smiled. She needed to learn how to be friendlier, “Yes, I’m going to turn sixteen this week I think.” Although, she admitted that she didn’t remember until now. Birthdays weren’t exciting for her.

Ismaeel said, “Oh, a big birthday. Sweet sixteen! What do you want to get?” He grabbed a bag and brown wrinkled paper.

Sara blinked at him again. She didn’t think of what she wanted for her birthday. She shrugged slightly, “I guess, some gifts and good desserts?” She knew what she wanted. A day to spend with her father.

Ismaeel nodded as he started to wrap the glass potions, “What kind of gifts?”

Sara wondered how much these three potions cost. She only brought ten angel feathers, “Um, weapons I guess. Maybe some shoes and outfits. I don’t know.”

Ismaeel looked at her and said, “But you care. I can see it in your eyes.”

Sara was taken by that. She hated when people read her that easily. She always tried to keep a blank expression, but she couldn’t help but start to get excited for her birthday. What did she want as her gifts? She couldn’t help but do a sly smile, “I guess I want a sweet sixteen jewelry. Like fathers get for their daughters.”

The potions were tucked safely in the bag and Ismaeel handed her the bag, “Hold the bag at the bottom too. Heavy things might rip the bag.”

Sara opened her cloak and took out a long book inside a large pocket. She unhooked the book and carefully opened the pages, where each page had a folder. Inside each folder, there was an angel feather placed in it. “How many?”

Ismaeel eyed the book and answered, “I take only three. You keep the rest. My birthday present to such a lovely girl.” He was amazed how big the cloak could fit such a massive book as that.

Sara felt her face going pink again, “Thank you.” She handed him three, which he took with care.

“Have a good day, Sara, and happy birthday.”

Sara said, “Thank you again.” She walked out of the store with a bag that didn’t feel heavy at all. She went behind a building and searched around to see no cameras or people seeing her. She took out a portable port and slammed it into the ground. If she didn’t slam the portable port harder enough to the ground, it would not crack and make a portal, just be a marble rolling across the ground.

A portal came to life and she jumped in. As her body sank into the portal, she felt a welcoming coldness surrounding her, and her feet tapped onto the welcoming center of the Heroes’ Headquarters. She walked past security guards and went through detectors that could detect the demonic presence and any other magical creatures. As a part demon, the detector always flashed red and beeped noisy at her.

Sara groaned as one of the security guards put a cross necklace over her and made her put a hand on the Bible. This part she never seemed to understand and felt so ridiculous when she went through this process. “Password: Be Thou My Vision.” Michael consistently changed the password each month. She was usually the first one to know the new password at the beginning of the month. Usually, the new passwords were hymn names or Bible verses.

The security guard said, “Go ahead.”

Every time Sara went through the security checkpoint, nervousness flattered through her body. She knew it was silly, but if someone objected or something went incredulously wrong? Because, what if she was just a mistake?

Overthinking Sara. Geez, at this rate you are going to overthink how to sneeze.

“What kind of potions are these?” the angel asked, a female security guard. She lifted an eyebrow as she gazed at the shimmering purple liquid.

Sara responded, “Medicine.” She really wanted to add: Please don’t tell my father! Then the angels would most definitely tell her father.

The angel shook the potion and then shrugged. Sara could see it in her face that she didn't give a fuck if Sara choked on the medicine she brought herself, “I hope it works,” said the angel.

Sara was surprised by the kind words and smiled brightly, “I hope you have a great day!”

All the heroes and angels looked at her and one of them just smirked. Sara grabbed her bag and went out of the checkpoint down into a glass hallway, overlooking a garden on one side and a fighting arena on the next. She was in the cafeteria and went up the floor and came into her room. She put her bag down and took out a potion. She looked at it cautiously, shaking it up and down, seeing it glitter and move like a slimy way.

Sara scanned her bedroom to see if Sal was there, but he had been oddly quiet. Good, you ruined my morning. She uncorked the potion and took a swing, tasting like grapes. She didn’t remember how much she needed to take, so she drank one-third of the bottle, feeling that was too much. She put the potions in her bathroom drawer and hoped to God the potion worked.

She went down into the exercise room and plugged in her Bluetooth earplugs. She put the music as high as she could without damaging her eardrums and started exercising, which usually took her three hours on a good day. If she was feeling stressed or depressed, so notched exercising to five hours, and if she had time on her hand, which she usually did, it would turn into about eight hours of exercising, sweating, and loud music to pump her adrenaline.

She did feel a little bit stressed as she replayed her training session with her best friend Kate. She missed Kate. They haven’t been together for a while. Kate had been off doing small errands for Michael or making out with that ugly dude, Andrew.

She shuddered at the idea of romance and sex. After an hour of thinking about how many positions a couple really could do, her body was tired of doing the treadmill and she started doing weights, which she only did for fifteen minutes. Her least favorite activity. Her mind trailed off to the session again, of how pathetic she was in front of her father. She was having fun but she escalated it and could’ve finished Kate off early

After fifteen minutes and gasping for air, sweating down her head to her yoga pants, she moved on. Doing a couple of hours of doing more training in the fighting arena where she fought with the illusions and Kate, made her worn out and she moved outside of the Heroes’ Headquarters and into the forest and cool air. She did fast pace walk into the trail, letting the music soothe her soul.

A short walk into the dense, quiet forest, she stopped at an overfallen tree bark. Her long wavy black hair was blowing in the breeze, highlighting her developing cheekbones and glossy lips. Her father told her, that nature seemed to enhance her looks every time she was there.

Sara turned off her music to enjoy the sound of nature. She closed her eyes and seconds later, heard footsteps behind her and recognized them immediately, “Kate?” She turned around, a smile across her face, “Hey, I wanted to apologize for that stupid stunt I did to you.” She looked up at Kate’s smooth tan flawless skin face.

Kate laughed, “Nah, it’s fine, Sara. Can I walk with you?”

Sara nodded and looked back at the tree trunk, “Remember when I fell on this trunk?”

Kate nodded and knelt to the rusted log, “Yeah. I was looking for you because Michael was making us mac n cheese and I couldn’t find you. When you woke up, you were crying.”

Sara said, “I would’ve forgotten that accident, but...the thing is that makes me remember, I don’t remember how I got there. I swear someone was carrying me here.”

"But you tripped over the tree,” said Kate, starting to walk.

“I don’t remember tripping.”

“What do you remember then?”

Sara traced her memory. She recalled heading back to the living room, excited for dinner, and for some reason, she got sidetracked. Her memory went dark, and she felt a strange pressure, almost a headache coming over her. It happened every time she tried to remember what had happened that day. Another reason she could recall the memory of that day. Pitch died. She scoffed at herself, remembering that he looked pretty.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Kate, letting Sara catch up with her.

“Nothing,” Sara said.

Kate frowned and then said, “You told us that you went to the basement to see the sword.”

“That doesn’t state why I was in the forest,” added Sara. She now remembered saying that, but couldn’t find that spot of memory in her going to look at the sword.

Kate said, “Michael said that the reason you went into the forest was that the sword scared you. It can do that. Powerful weapon.”

"Indeed,” agreed Sara.

The forest ground made soft noises beneath their feet, the crunching of small twigs from their shoes and leaves being mushed.

“Hey, you remember Michael used to tell us that—” Kate used her best voice interpretation of Michael, her voice deep and as manly as possible, “’ The trees will howl out nature’s music and the breeze are the notes of the music sheets. Listen carefully and you can hear the gates of Heaven.'”

Sara and Kate burst into giggles. Sara responded, “I remember closing my eyes and saying to him, ‘I think the gates are opening!’”

Kate snickered, “And I said: ‘I hear the heavenly music of the gate welcoming us!’”

Sara shook her head, smiling. She snapped a branch from a tree, breaking the branch little by little, “I don’t believe that anymore, do you?”

“No,” answered Kate with a sigh, “But sometimes, I do admit, I close my eyes and imagine the gates of Heaven opening up.” Her cheeks went red, “Although, I feel childish saying that.” Trees overcast thick shadows, and some sunlight spotted the forest.

“That’s okay,” said Sara. Her eyes the color of coals gazed lovingly back at her friend, “It’s just me.”

Kate looked at her friend, which she always thought was like a little sister to her, now growing up so much, “I never meant to call you childish in front of Lucifer. You are grown up. God forbid, you are only fifteen.”

Sara looked back at her friend, “Hey, it’s okay. And, I’m turning sixteen less than a week!”

Kate scoffed, “Big difference. I remember when I turned sixteen, I felt no different than I did the day before.” She breathed in the fresh air, “Honestly, I still kinda feel like sixteen in this eighteen-year-old body.”

The woods creaked as they walked for a long mile, Sara was enjoying the noise of the woods, but a little bit crept of how perfect the creaking of the woods sounded just like the creaking of a door., “How do I know when to mature when I’m immortal?”

Kate glanced at her from the bizarre questioned and answered to the best of her ability, “Well. Honestly Sara.” She gazed around the forest and back to her, “You mature when you feel you are ready. You don’t have to mature the same day when you turn eighteen. You mature from the past and who you are.” She could feel the words cutting deep into her and she hoped it helped her friend. Maturing was a hard part for her too. She needed to be an adult to get that self-respect from the heroes and angels, but she didn’t want to have life’s responsibilities.

Sara hugged herself again. Kate noted she did this when she was thinking about herself or uncomfortable. She would go to what she was thinking about herself, “Kate, I don’t know where I fit. Do I even fit here?” Her eyes turned to Kate, sullen and almost scared-like. Like a lost puppy.

Kate stared at her and saw the hurt on her friend’s face, “Sara, of course, you belong here. Why are you doubting that? You’re Michael’s daughter and my best friend.”

Sara hugged herself even tighter as they continued walking, almost back to where they started, a trail that circled, “But am I enough? All I will be known as is Michael’s daughter, nothing more or less.

Kate looked at her in disbelief. She couldn’t deny this. Even though she was Sara’s best friend, all Kate saw in Sara was a delicate daughter under the protection of the highest of Archangel, the leader of the heroes, and the imperative leader of the heavenly army.

But, as Kate thought that, she also thought of Sara as this mighty warrior that had amazing skill in fighting. Not to be under-minded at all.

“Kate, what I see you is an amazing sidekick that everyone loves and wants to be. You are strong-headed and never back down. I...wish I was like you.”

Kate knew Sara sometimes wanted to have qualities like her, but not be like her. “Sara, not everything about me is good. Be your own person.” She was surprised at how quickly their conversations could turn personal. But they were friends after all. Kate was aware Sara didn’t have many people to lean on and also knew she was so negative to herself. She heard her friend’s voice saying: He won’t stop. Stop what? Talking bad things about her? She highly doubt this guy was negative to her, or Sara would’ve killed herself, she was delicate that way. But of course, the voice didn’t help at all.

She didn’t know how to help Sara with her hallucinating. Kate had, but, she didn’t do much assistance.

At least she could support her friend in other ways. Sara always was there when Kate needed her the most. Like being there when her parents were killed and taking her mind off the horror of the past.

She wondered if she should tell Sara about Thomas Pitch. But Michael seemed to want that conversation as secretive as possible, and Sara was his daughter, so he could tell her when he felt so. For now, it was between Kate and Michael, something just between them. Kate liked that.

Sara sighed contently as they reached their start, “You want to have dinner with me? We can watch some trashy romance and have popcorn!”

Kate smiled, there was nothing else she would love to do, “Trashy romance, here we go!” She smacked her hand against Sara’s back, who in return, punched Kate in the shoulder. Kate winced, but Sara didn’t notice as she skipped to the Heroes’ Headquarters. Kate felt the throbbing pain go sharper as she rubbed where she was punched. She wanted to shout: Next time be gentle. But Sara was out of hearing range.

Kate sighed and mumbled to herself, “You don’t know how strong you can be sometimes, do you, Sara?” Despite that, a grin tugged at her face as she ran to catch up with her friend, “I dibs picking the movie!”