Novel & Cerita Heaven's Gates Won't Open Up For Me

Then a certain pentagram, HIS gate and markings that HE only allows certain beings to use if HE will be asked them too appears. “Thrilling, but knowing, let’s see where this conversation will end and how this deal will move the play that I have written.” The certain hue that HE only owns illuminated. Then a gate, HIS void gate appears and slowly opens, along with the footsteps of the two beings that HE expects to come in that very moment and to their present time and day. “An honor to fulfill your wish. I your doll Winona, brought you the one that you currently seek, my Supreme God.”

I feel bigger than the stars and planets around me. Something is pulling me upwards, stars, and planets becoming distant. I turn away from all of these to enter two huge sets of gates made of gold and diamonds. The gates shine brighter than any stat I have ever seen. There is a figure facing away from me who's features are blurred by the clouds. The moment I look at that presence, peace washes over me. My feet carry me forward towards, through the gates, and towards the peace. "Angel" my feet stopped at the threshold of the gates listening to the voice, which calls for me.

The pathway to heaven is rough. The streets are not tarred. The bells are not ringing. Where is God? Apart from the sound of the water dripping from the tap in the bathroom, I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't even hear my heart beating inside my chest. "This is going to be my last attempt," I said to myself.

Sleep takes me fast. And for the first time in six days I dream. Not about stone walls or grey light or masks. About a hall. About light coming through windows that have been closed for sixty years. About a man at the end of it... waiting.

Behind us, the plaza moaned—distant drones dragging themselves out of rubble, sirens wailing in a broken loop, the ever-present hum of the dying city. Beside me, my skin still tingled where Corvin’s hands had been. My ribs ached under the fresh bandage. His warmth felt like an echo in the narrow doorway we’d just left. The almost-kiss clung to the back of my mind, unhelpfully vivid. “Okay,” Jax said, drawing in a breath. “So. Talking doors. That’s new. Does anyone have the cheat code?” “There’s no code,” Grant said grimly. “They mean it. You don’t get in unless the Gate’s fed.”

" Tanya. Once in the past, that name would have dragged me down into an endless abyss, but now, looking at it didn't cause even the slightest discord in my heart. That was another life, lived by another person. In the room was a fireplace, burning bright. I stepped over and tossed the entire stack in—papers, journal, everything. The papers curled in the embers, blackening and turning to dust and ash, along with everything contained within—the love, the hate, and the regret, none of that had to do with me anymore. Then, the door was pushed open, and Steven walked in. He was especially handsome today, and even his English seemed particularly fluent. "Are you ready, my love?" He extended his ha

The moment the Cherubic Lock shattered, the sound that followed was not loud. It was worse than that. It was ancient. A deep, resonant crack rolled across Heaven like the splitting of reality itself. The colossal gates of the Levite Garden, sealed since the earliest age of creation, trembled violently as the golden sigils etched across their vast surface flickered and began to unravel.

my grandmother gasped and clutched at her chest. My mother bent her head and quietly sobbed into her handkerchief. “What else aren't you telling us? Isn't Heaven out of surgery? Where is she?” my father said coldly. I clenched my fists at his overbearing tone. How would I tell them that Heaven is pregnant and in a coma? “Heaven…” Sensing my hesitation, Grandma grew more agitated. “Why aren't you saying anything? What's wrong with Heaven?” Taking a deep breath, I could only say, “Heaven fell into a…a coma.”

I tell him as we enter the last door, which opens up to the gates. The gates of purgatory. They are more like doors. Same as the pearly gates. They aren’t pearly or gates; they are actually solid gold doors. Whoever called them gates clearly hasn’t seen them. However, they do the job and if people want to see them as gates, then who am I to argue? They are huge; the gates are grey. You can see the trapped souls moving on them, reaching their stretched white arms forward begging to be released, their jaws slack and eyes black. They are truly damned. It’s an eerie scene. One that I always find fascinating.