A/N: Warning: Uptight Christians or other religious persons may find offense with this story. If you do, that’s your problem, don’t bother me with it. The hymn they are singing isn’t mine, but I don’t know who it does belong to.

Zeke raised his head, singing, a look of exultation on his face. “ ‘I hear the brush of angel wings / There’s a look of glory on each face […]’ ” And indeed, there was a look of glory on every face in the crowded church. It was brand-new, only a couple weeks old, but already it was full near to bursting. All the voices were singing, all filled with joy, love, and faith. Some were pure and clear, others old and cracked, but all worshipped their lord. This was a fairly new religion, and the fastest growing in the world. As the chorus was repeated again, it seemed to the people in the church that they really could hear the brush of angel wings as they were singing. And indeed, they could.

Two angels, great black wings folded behind them, perched behind the alter, invisible to all, listening to them sing. It was such a miracle, having worship, instead of deridement. White stood for purity, but purity means untouched. The angels of white, Christ’s angels, were so remote and inhuman, not understanding or caring about human suffering, while the angels of black understood. Their wings were black with the pain and suffering of the world. They cared about and tried to help all those under their care. They were the true guardian angels.

Deep within the Earth, the Bringer of Light, Lucifer—he who’s name is reviled by those who do not understand Those who don’t remember the meaning of his name—smiles. Finally, he is able to save these souls, instead of being forced to punish so many. After languishing so long under his former Master’s rule, then being exiled when he tried to change things, Lucifer finally is able to save people. And instead of forcing people to have faith and trust that they will be rewarded when they die, and being punished eternally if they don’t, now they can have great things happen to them while they live, and if they choose to not believe in Lucifer or worship him, no punishment will come.

The angels think about all the wonderful things their master Lucifer has done since he has managed to create a good religion while the churchgoers sing, and when the song ends, they take off. A single black feather floats down from the roof, and the youngest child in the church picks it up reverently. “An angel’s feather!” His mother smiles at him, and the child places it on the alter.

~Fin~

A/N: If anyone chooses to flame me for this story, then so be it. I am agnostic, and all that will do to me is say there is yet another religious person out there with no room to let other people be. Flames on the content won’t bother me, because I really like this story. Wonder where I thought of it? When I was in a church—a Christian church, a Baptist church—with a friend for a service. The name Zeke comes from the name Ezekiel, the name of one of the Christian god’s angels. Let me know what you think. I might use the song again, I really liked the line. I don’t know who to credit the song to, sorry, but it’s not mine.