“Don’t look around.” Sandalphon whispered in Muriel’s ear, their grip tightening on her bicep as they pulled her closer, their voice a chilling murmur.
“What?” Muriel stiffened, her feet shuffling nervously.
“Keep walking,” Sandalphon instructed, their eyes darting behind them, shoulders tensing as if trying to blend into the shadows. “We’re just coincidentally walking in the same direction,” they forced a casual tone, but it sounded hollow.
Sandalphon’s grip on Muriel’s arm faltered, slipping away completely. “Okay,” she replied, her voice trembling and rising an octave higher than usual.
“I may know something,” Sandalphon’s voice dropped to a low, almost musical whisper, yet it carried an edge of desperation. “What?” Muriel turned, her eyes meeting theirs.
“Face forward! If I tell you, I want to be reinstated as an archangel,” Sandalphon’s plea was almost frantic, and Muriel caught a flicker of fear in their eyes.
“I don’t have that power,” Muriel’s voice was defensive, as if speaking the words might summon something sinister. “Not yet, you don’t,” Sandalphon retorted, their words dripping with a snarky, oily menace. Muriel felt the words slither into her ear, a cold dread settling in her gut.
“Meet me in the corridor in the Space Between. They won’t be looking there,” Sandalphon turned and vanished, leaving Muriel with an unsettling chill. With Aziraphale gone and Michael’s dismissive attitude, Muriel felt adrift. She decided to hear Sandalphon out, clinging to the naive belief that nothing bad could happen in heaven.
The Space Between was a long, pristine hallway, its beginning bathed in bright lights and gold trim, creating an eerie, otherworldly glow. As it stretched further, the light faded into darkness and decay, leading to the abyss of hell. Green and black rot clawed at the walls and floor, swarms of insects and flies buzzed around heaps of trash and the decaying remains of something long dead. A putrid stench clung to the air, desperately trying to breach heaven’s barrier.
Sandalphon, moved cautiously from the heavenly end of the hallway towards the middle. They glanced towards the end and back to heaven, unease gnawing at their chest.
“Hello?” Sandalphon’s voice echoed, swallowed by the oppressive silence.
“Muriel?” Sandalphon spun around, searching for the other angel, dread clutching at their heart.
“Hello? Muriel? Is that you?” Sandalphon’s voice trembled, filled with growing panic.
A sudden gust of wind whipped past Sandalphon, spinning them around towards the hallway’s end. Horror twisted their face as they stumbled back from the apparition that had materialized.
“No, you don’t need to do this,” Sandalphon’s voice cracked, hands raised in a futile defense.
A blinding light engulfed Sandalphon, searing heat enveloping them. Sandalphon’s screams were cut short, the burning consuming their throat and face until they collapsed and vanished. Only a charred outline remained, a ghostly stain on the pristine white wall of the heavenly end of the hallway.
Moments later Muriel walked to the start of the long hallway, glancing around and waiting patiently for Sandalphon. Minutes passed in silence and she waited at the edge of the hallway.
“Muriel?” Uriel’s voice broke the silence as they appeared, their tone laced with annoyance.
Muriel gasped, startled, as they turned to face the other angel.
“What are you doing here? This area has been closed off,” Uriel’s voice was sharp, but their eyes widened in shock as they looked at the wall behind Muriel. Muriel turned around to follow Uriel’s gaze, she gasped and recoiled, eyes wide with disbelief. “That’s… that’s Sandalphon, isn’t it?” she whispered, fear trembling in her voice.
“We must inform the others,” Uriel said, masking their horror with a composed facade. They turned and walked away. Muriel lingered on the charred outline for a moment longer before sprinting after Uriel, the weight of dread pressing heavily on her shoulders.
Down on Earth, Aziraphale and Crowley pulled to the curb on a block near a bookshop.
“Why are you stopping?” Aziraphale asked, his brow furrowed with confusion.
“Oh, no, no, we can’t park here. They’ll be looking for the Bentley,” Aziraphale said, slightly panicked, his hands wringing together.
“They don’t have to see it, do they?” Crowley said, glancing at Aziraphale with a knowing expression, his lips curling into a sly smile.
“Oh,” Aziraphale realized what he meant. He snapped his fingers, and in the blink of an eye, the sleek dark colors of the Bentley transformed into an ice cream truck with a large plastic cone on top, adorned with colorful swirls. Aziraphale’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he handed Crowley and an ice cream cone from the truck.
“Really?” Crowley murmured, his voice tinged with disbelief, as he took the cone.
“Well, we know Jesus is on Earth, but it’s a vast place. He could be anywhere,” Aziraphale sighed, looking off into the distance, his shoulders slumping slightly. Crowley could see the despair in his eyes, the corners of his mouth crinkling. Could angels age in such a way? Had Crowley aged the same?
For a moment, Crowley’s eyes traveled down from the corners of his eyes to the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth. He noticed how his lips were slightly downturned as he wore a frown. He could see the tension pulling the muscles in his jaw as he flexed, trying to think. Crowley shifted, wanting to reach over and run his hand along his cheek until the muscles relaxed. He started to move his hand toward Aziraphale but quickly caught himself, his fingers curling into a fist. He squeezed his fingers into his palm until his knuckles turned white, locking his jaw in place and tearing his eyes off of Aziraphale’s side profile.
“Well, he likes deserts. Or he used to,” Crowley finally said, his voice carrying some tension, and Crowley knew Aziraphale could tell, as he slightly winced when he spoke. Crowley signed. “Spent 40 days in one back when I knew him.”
Aziraphale opened his mouth to respond when the sound of a phone ringing stopped him. He patted his pockets until reaching into his coat and pulling out a white phone, answering. Crowley turned fully to him now, noticing Aziraphale’s eyes widen and his hand slightly shake, his knuckles turning pale.
“Um… But he can’t be… Oh, obviously…” Aziraphale’s voice strained as he continued, his voice barely above a whisper.
“No… no. I understand.” Aziraphale lowered the phone and stared at the screen, his eyebrows furrowed deeply. Crowley could see his hands shaking more, his fingers trembling.
“That was Saraqael.” Aziraphale said in a strained voice. He cleared his throat, rolled his shoulders back, and inhaled deeply before looking at Crowley, his eyes searching for reassurance.
“It appears that Sandalphon has….” He stopped, feeling his throat close, and the words died on his lips, his voice catching in his throat.
“Also vanished?” Crowley said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. But as he saw Aziraphale’s eyes widen and his face pale, he shifted and stood straighter, his expression softening.
“Saraqael thinks he’s been murdered.”
Silence filled the space between them. Crowley furrowed his brow, staring at Aziraphale, his eyes filled with concern.
“I need to get back to Heaven.” Panic rose in Aziraphale’s voice, his hands trembling more violently.
“You’ll just have to begin the hunt for Jesus here yourself.” Aziraphale opened his coat to place the phone back in its spot. He balled his hands into fists, glancing around nervously and unable to meet Crowley’s gaze, his eyes darting to the ground.
Crowley hadn’t seen Aziraphale this visibly upset since The Ritz had caught fire in 2007 and closed for the day. That incident had ruined their planned lunch date, and Aziraphale was fearful it would never reopen.
“Oh, no, no, I’m coming with you.” Crowley said, taking a few steps towards him and shoving his hands into his pockets, his stance firm and determined.
Aziraphale looked up with wide eyes, his shoulders slightly dropping for a moment, his expression softening briefly before he realized what was said.
“To Heaven? You most certainly are not.”
“You clearly can’t do this on your own, come on.” Crowley began walking towards the heavenly elevator. He glanced back and saw Aziraphale rushing to catch up to him, his eyes wide with surprise. Crowley turned his head back forward and couldn’t help but let a small, almost mischievous smile grace his lips for a moment.
When they both entered the elevator, Aziraphale turned and looked at Crowley, his expression thoughtful.
“Um… Crowley, I don’t know if wearing such dark clothes in heaven is a good idea.” Crowley furrowed his brow, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked down at his outfit. He stretched out his arms the length of the elevator, both hands touching the wall, his posture relaxed yet defiant. He always assumed the angel quite liked him in this.
“I… I like what you wear, but maybe allow me to lighten you up some,” Aziraphale said softly, raising his hand over Crowley with a gentle, almost reverent gesture.
Crowley’s outfit shifted with the light of the elevator until he was in a cream suit, the fabric smooth and elegant. His silver scarf transformed into an angelic gold, shimmering softly, and his black-rimmed glasses turned to gold, adding a touch of warmth to his features. Crowley looked in his disfigured reflection on the clear glass door in the elevator, his eyes scanning the changes. He slightly turned his head and watched as a white patch formed across the side, following the flow of his hair. He turned his head to the other side and saw the same there, the streaks pure white and flowing.
Crowley scoffed, “Is this really necessary, angel?” His voice was low, almost sultry, as it used to be, carrying a hint of amusement.
“The clothes yes, but I… I did not change your hair,” Aziraphale said, his eyes fixed on the new streaks. They almost looked like wings, pure white and flowing like wings Crowley once had.
Aziraphale’s hand reached up, his fingers ghosting across the white streak, his touch light and tentative. He noticed his mark below his sideburn was now also gold, a subtle change that seemed to lighten his features. Aziraphale allowed his fingers to trace the path of the snake before continuing their journey down his jaw. His chest tightened, an unfamiliar heat curling low in his stomach as he took in the sight of Crowley so close, transformed yet undeniably himself. Aziraphale’s heart raced, and he felt his breath hitch, a soft tremor running down his spine.
Crowley inhaled at the closeness, his breath catching slightly, and closed his eyes, feeling Aziraphale’s hand ghost down the side of his face, the contact electric. The warmth of Aziraphale’s touch lingered, sending a spark through him that he fought to ignore. Aziraphale felt the heat rise to his cheeks, his pulse thrumming in his ears as his fingers traced the line of Crowley’s jaw, the forbidden intimacy causing his thoughts to stumble. For a fleeting moment, he let himself imagine leaning in closer, their breath mingling, the air charged with something dangerous and sweet.
Crowley pushed his hands against the walls of the elevator harder, willing himself not to move or react, his heart pounding in his chest. Aziraphale’s throat worked as he swallowed, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from the demon’s body, the magnetic pull between them making his fingers tremble as he finally drew them back.
“You are now reaching heaven.” The elevator spoke in an angelic monotone voice, breaking the spell.
This brought Aziraphale back to reality. He quickly turned and stepped away from Crowley, clearing his throat and glancing up at the demon before fully turning to face the elevator door, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush and his chest still heaving slightly.
Crowley inhaled sharply, still feeling the lingering of Aziraphale’s hand ghosting his skin. He felt the pit of his stomach drop, and the door dinged to open. He rolled his shoulders back, his expression shifting to one of guarded composure, his demeanor cool and collected.
The doors opened, and Aziraphale hurriedly walked out, anticipation and a strange heaviness in his chest, his steps quick and purposeful. Crowley followed at a leisurely pace, placing his hands in his pockets, his movements languid and unhurried, his mind still lingering on the moment they had shared.
Residential Lifts: A Smart Upgrade for Modern Homes
Modern homes are evolving, and so are the expectations of homeowners. In today’s fast-paced world, comfort, accessibility, and future-readiness are not just luxuries—they are essential. One home feature that is quickly gaining popularity for ticking all these boxes is the residential lift.
Whether you're building a new house or upgrading an existing one, installing a home lift can completely transform the way you live.
Why Residential Lifts Are Becoming Popular
1. Convenience at Its Best
One of the most obvious advantages of a residential lift is the ease of movement it provides. For multilevel homes, climbing stairs multiple times a day can become tiring, especially for seniors or those with mobility issues. A lift offers a smooth, effortless alternative, making everyday life more convenient for everyone.
2. Perfect for Aging in Place
More families are planning homes that grow with them. As we age, mobility challenges can make stairs a safety risk. Installing a residential lift ensures that your home remains accessible for years to come, allowing you to live independently in your own space.
3. Adds Value to Your Property
Home lifts are a smart investment. Not only do they make life easier, but they also increase the value of your property. A well-installed residential lift can make your home stand out to future buyers—especially those looking for accessibility or modern design elements.
4. Space-Saving and Stylish
Today’s residential lifts are designed to fit seamlessly into your home. With compact models available, even smaller houses can accommodate a lift without major construction. Plus, the modern design options enhance your home’s interior, making the lift both functional and visually appealing.
5. Enhanced Safety Features
Residential lifts are built with multiple safety systems like emergency stop buttons, backup power, auto-locking doors, and non-slip flooring. These features make them a secure option for families with children or elderly residents.
Are Residential Lifts Affordable?
You might be surprised! Thanks to advancements in technology and growing demand, home lifts are becoming more affordable than ever. Companies like Nibav Lifts Kenya offer budget-friendly, energy-efficient solutions that require minimal maintenance and no major structural changes.
Some models even run on air-driven systems, which use less power and are quieter than traditional lifts—making them perfect for residential settings.
Is It Right for Your Home?
If your home has multiple floors, or if you’re planning for future comfort and accessibility, then yes—a residential lift is a smart upgrade. It enhances your lifestyle while adding long-term value to your property.
Final Thoughts
Residential lifts are more than just a modern convenience—they are a reflection of how we want to live today: smarter, safer, and more comfortably. As Kenya’s housing market continues to evolve, more homeowners are embracing the idea of lifts not as luxury, but as a necessity for modern living.
If you're ready to take your home to the next level, a home lifts could be the smartest move you make.
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Experience the perfect blend of style, safety, and smooth performance with Mythri Elevators. Our premium home lifts are designed to enhance your lifestyle with elegant aesthetics, reliable technology, and unmatched comfort.
