I should be posting the next chapter for “War,” but I admit I have been in a bit of a funk lately. However, here is a little something I wrote from a writing prompt when I had downtime at work. Hope you enjoy!
An angel lay dying in the mist. A demon knelt over him and smiled. At least, tried to smile. But how could she? Tears welled up in her black eyes as her leathery wings folded in place. The battle had been hard. So long and hard. Her bleeding body stood testimony. But he–the angel–he was broken. She broke him. He reached out a shaking, bloody hand. Tried using his last breaths for words. She shushed him and held his hand to her face. Looked him over one last time. What had she done? What had they all done? She couldn’t fight the tears any longer. His porcelin skin smoked from his burns, slowly turning ashen. All his white feathers were stripped from his bones. She kept a free hand over the gushing wound in his chest. The one she made. Her whole being ached for him. His grip tightened as he fought pain and death. Clear blue eyes glossing over.
She didn’t want him to leave her. She couldn’t let him go. However, she knew she hadn’t been too late. He still regarded her with kindness, love. He choked up more blood. His last breath escaped him, “Evangeline…” “Orion!” She gathered his limp body into her arms, burying her head into his. “No. You can’t leave me. You promised you would never leave me. You promised!” She knew none of her dark powers could bring him back. Her tears left burn marks down her cheeks. Her laments carried into the sky. The other demons paused in their doings. None dared disturbed her, though many found her cries odd. She held him closer. Kissed his forehead. She had to let him go. Despite her blurred vision, she placed him in proper funerary position. “Goodbye, brother,” she whispered as she held out her hand and burned what remained of his body.
Thick smoke curled. The light of the fire glinting in her eyes. But she found no satisfaction, no happiness in this angel’s death. He was her brother. How long had it been since she fell? And he had still looked after her. He never failed his promise. Unitl now. It was her fault. She dealt the final blow that killed him. If he was to die by demon hands, he would die by hers. Painful as it was. Her gaze surveyed the red mist of the battlefield. Both angels and demons burned. How many were brothers? How many were sisters? Only demons remained standing. It was an ambush from the beginning.
Her eyes flickered with ire. They were all angels once. Then they betrayed their loved ones; betrayed their Father. Now, they were engaged in a ruthless civil war. How could they have been so blind? How many siiblings had to die? Her hands balled. None of these demons cared. That’s why this battalion had been sent. But she cared. Though too late. Or, maybe not. With outstretched wings and a shattering battle cry, she engaged every demon left. Blind ferocity guiding her fine-tuned motions. Righteous anger fueling her frenzy. They could not stop her if they wanted to. It took her an hour, but no more than an hour, to wipe the area clean. Her surges of power levelled the ground. She used the mist to her advantage, too quick for the others to keep up.
In the end, only she remained. She stood among her carnage, covered in blood and tears. Her breaths came heavily. She sheathed her hellish, crimson-stained sword. Fists remaining by her side. Her glowing eyes returned to black. She knew she would never become an angel again. Didn’t think there was a way to redeem her betrayal. But she would die trying. Even if it meant slaying every other demon until she remained. Even if it meant her final act would be to plunge her sword into her own chest. She would not rest until she fulfilled her silent promise.