I found him in a parking lot. The wind was carrying in large storm clouds and a cooling, summer rain. The street lamps just clicked on and began to sputter orange light all over the concrete. Meresin, one of my brother's proper names, was just staring at an empty Catholic church. Humans couldn't see him, if they would they'd have avoided that parking lot-- or honestly that part of Michigan all together. He's a cosmic horror, just hanging out in an empty lot.

A lot of cosmic horrors hang out in Catholic churches, so looking back it wasn't that unusual. The way I saw him was the way a lot of other bodiless entities saw him, a big whirling mass of darkness and shadows. He never even manifested a face to look at. I could insist he have a face to talk to, but I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. It was hard enough just to locate him, and if I agitated him and he left-- he could be anywhere in all of space and time.

I also knew not to ask about any of his pet projects. I was somewhat familiar with the Michigan one, since he had been at it for so long.

“What's this then, you don't want to go in?” I asked, gesturing to the church. I meant it as a joke, of course. We can go in churches—I think it's vampires that can't bother with crosses and holy water. I'm not sure. But, we can definitely enter churches.

“No,” said my brother. Clipped. Short. Cold. I could tell he didn't want to talk to me.

“Then, what are you doing? Why are you just hanging out here?” I asked. I could feel the vibration of the few humans inside. Men, one young and a couple old. One of Meresin's pet humans were inside-- the young one. He was recently considering joining the seminary, which was what brought him inside. Meresin stood near the young man's parked car, a fifteen year old piece of shit. It had more rust than color, the metal was eaten by the salted roads in the wintertime.

“I'm just thinking,” said one devil to another. His tone was short but it still had something different about it. I knew not to try to make another joke. The wind was blustering, physically affected by his mood. My moods didn't usually affect the weather, but his often did. Maybe it was for dramatic effect, or maybe he couldn't help it. We angels are attuned to different things, like settings on an old radio.

“Well, what about?” I asked, maybe with a little more whimsy than I intended. He usually knew not to be offended, though.

“I'm thinking about quitting.”

“Oh, you're just having a black mood or something,” I said right back. I knew just how stupid that was, because I have said it before-- to him. And I did just quit... sort of. Another brother, the large monstrosity of a beast, does most of the ruling. I am still the Prince of Darkness but... so are all my brothers. While we are all devil-brothers and equal to each other, it's complicated. I didn't take this seriously because I've literally said these words a thousand times myself and they don't mean anything. We can't quit being what we are.

“Not like that,” said Meresin. I think he kept staring at the church, though since he didn't have a face, it made it a little hard to tell. Then, it began to rain. Softly at first, a little patter on the human's car. I could feel one of the older men inside leave the building-- his old navy Cadillac started up on the other side of the rectory. The young man was still inside.

“I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, then,” I said, quite honestly.

“I'm just thinking about quitting,” he repeated. This is what tipped me off. I marked it in my brain on a calendar. 2007, in front of an old, gray, Catholic church. My brother Meresin, old murrain, was acting strange and a lot could be said for him-- but you could count on him like a clock. It could be madness. Brothers have gone mad before-- and face obliteration, or just consumed by another consciousness. I really honestly felt that Meresin was either the sanest or perhaps most insane of us all, it's hard to tell since he cut himself off as an isolationist.

Come to think of it, I think each of us brothers have said the words about quitting. It is the only thing we can allow ourselves to think about when we mean 'escape.' We literally exist on a Hell vibration, a dimension overlapping Earth, like a hologram. Humans can quit. We can't. They quit jobs and they quit relationships. They quit bands, smoking, and they quit trying. They quit carbs. We just can't quit. We can only want it.

I knew what he meant, anyway. I just didn't know how he'd try to obtain it. Another thing about my brother, he's so heavy. When, and if, he meant quitting-- then he seriously meant it. I was really interested in seeing him try.

The rain came down a little harder and I stuck around to see if he'd keep talking. I could read his mood, which is really hard to do. It was a wet mixture of sad and thoughtful. I knew if provoked I could probably prod a little more. I just had to be patient, which I have difficulty with. I knew, also, at any moment, he could snap just and become icy. I had to tread lightly.

“I'm here for you, if you need anything,” I meant it sincerely, though we, (especially me), are rampant liars. I don't mean to be but in my defense I can see in multiple times and dimensions at a time, so what I say is mostly true somewhere in some time. At any rate, I could feel him be receptive to my well-wishing. He didn't go cold like he usually did.

It began to go dark, and cold, and I flipped up the collar to my brown jacket. I know that no one could see me, but I like to feel a little more human when walking around. I saw it was time to go, or I could feel it, so I checked my pocket-watch and vanished.