My name is Caesar, and I’m your average teenager from La Plata, Maryland. Do you see this medallion? You won’t believe how I got it—it was a wild ride.

Last summer, my friend Gary and I went camping at Monroe Bay with some friends from school. We snagged a little rustic cabin for only $40 for the whole weekend. It was a steal. We arrived on a sunny but windy Friday afternoon. The campgrounds were pristine, with a basketball court, charcoal grills, and a nice pier. Everything seemed perfect.

Gary, always the cautious planner, double-checked our reservation as we headed to the main office. 

We were greeted by an old guy named Phineas. “Welcome, boys. Checking in?” he asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yes, sir. We have a reservation for cabin 4,” Gary said, pulling out his phone to show the confirmation email.

Phineas squinted at the screen and frowned. “Well, it seems there’s been a mix-up. We’re all booked for the weekend. I’m afraid there are no cabins available.”

Gary and I exchanged looks of disbelief. “We’ve been planning this trip for weeks. There must be something you can do,” I pleaded.

Phineas sighed and picked up the phone. After a tense conversation with his boss, he finally hung up and said, “There’s cabin 6. It hasn’t been used in a while. It’s a bit isolated, on the south part of the complex. Most people avoid it.”

“We’ll take it,” Gary said quickly, relieved that our weekend was saved.

Phineas handed us the keys and a map. “Enjoy your stay, boys.”

We set everything up in our new, slightly creepy cabin and joined our friends for some campy activities. As the day turned into night, we roasted marshmallows and told ghost stories around the campfire. Everything was great.

Around midnight, Gary and I decided to head back to our cabin. The complex was well-lit, but our cabin was a little further away from the main cluster, down a dark, narrow path. The wind whistled loudly, and the atmosphere felt a little creepy.

“Did you hear that?” Gary whispered, his eyes darting around.

“It’s just the wind,” I replied, trying to sound confident. Suddenly, our flashlight spotted some spots on the ground that looked like blood next to some visible footprints.

“Caesar, I don’t like this,” Gary said, his voice trembling.

“Maybe someone needs help. Let’s follow the footprints,” I insisted.

“We should report it to Phineas,” Gary suggested, but I was already following the trail.

The footprints led us to the back of our cabin, where we found a man lying on the ground. Gary shone the flashlight on his face and asked, “Are you okay?”

The stranger looked at us with pain-filled eyes. “I’ve been stabbed. Please, help me.”

Gary grabbed my arm and whispered, “What if he’s a convict on the run?”

The stranger overheard us and said, “I’m no convict. The people who stabbed me are still looking for me. Please, I beg you.”

When we helped him up, we were stunned to see he had a set of wings. “Holy crap, he’s an angel,” Gary gasped.

The stranger nodded. “Yes, I am. Bounty hunters are after me, trying to cut off my wings.”

At that moment, we knew we had to help. We helped the angel into our cabin and used a first-aid kit to tend to his wounds.

Suddenly, there was a knock on our door. It was Phineas. “Guys, there’s an incident at the camping grounds. We need everyone at the main office.”

“We’ll be there in a minute,” I said, trying to keep calm.

The angel looked desperate. “Please, don’t tell anyone. The people looking for me must be here.”

When we arrived at the main office, we saw a group of people in suits led by a muscular man who looked like a priest. “We’re a government agency searching for a dangerous fugitive,” the priest announced.

“Since when do government agents look like priests?” Gary muttered.

Phineas asked everyone to stay put while the officers swept the area. We knew they would find the angel in our cabin, so we had to act fast.

“We need a distraction,” I whispered to Gary.

Gary faked a panic attack, drawing everyone’s attention. During the commotion, I slipped away to the pier and got into a rowboat. I reached the cabin and went inside, but the angel was nowhere to be seen. I thought I was too late, but then I saw him clinging to the ceiling.

“I thought you were an agent,” the angel said, relieved.

“We need to get out of here,” I explained. Just as we were about to leave, we saw flashlights approaching the cabin. We sneaked out through the back and reached the rowboat. I helped the angel get on, and we started rowing to the lake’s center.

The moon was bright and full, casting an eerie glow on the water. The angel lay on the floor of the rowboat, thanking me. “Why did you take human form?” I asked.

“I come to your realm often for my job. I knew forces were trying to capture me, but I got cocky. I liked going to clubs and having fun. It turned out the club I frequented was a front for the organization trying to capture me. It was a setup.”

“Lucky you escaped,” I said. “Gary just texted that everything is clear.”

I rowed back to the cabin. The angel spent the rest of the weekend resting while we enjoyed camping with our friends. On Sunday night, we found him fishing, his wings looking majestic.

“Thank you both. Without your help, I would have been captured,” he said, extending his hand. Two medallions materialized. “These are one-of-a-kind ‘get out of hell’ passes. Use them wisely.”

The angel waved at us as he started flying.

“Wait! What’s your name?” I called as he flew away.

He looked back, smiling. “I am Lucifer, the Morning Star.”

Gary and I stood speechless, clutching our medallions. A wild ride, indeed.