Fallen Angel

Prologue

In the midst of chaos, destruction, in a festival of flames and pain, screams and debris, when everybody’s panic was palpable and rose the hairs on the skin from their roots, when the fear of dying was stronger than the love for others, when the imminent end became one with the blind hate, when all the good and the evil were still fighting each other fiercely but barely before erasing the memories of the strong enough, of those that would survive, right then was when it happened, when her desperate and faithful call for mercy to the supreme being was answered.

She could still remember that night, even in her dreams, no matter if it happened so long ago, the night when all changed for her, when the line of good and evil was established ineradicably. Never did she think that nothing, in reality, was relative; light was light, and darkness was darkness, it would always stay that way; good is the opposite of evil and likewise, never can they be blended, they will always be separated from each other. She was seeing evil with her own eyes that night, feeling it in her skin, crying it with all her heart, for all those she lost, for the life that was taken from her, for the injustice, for the innocence of the dead. She ran, and as she did crystal tears spilled over her dirty face, she was confused, she didn’t understand why it was happening, what her people did to deserve being so brutally slaughtered; she only understood it was wrong, that the ones fighting to protect them were beautifully good, and still she didn’t find it in her heart to hate the evil.

She frantically searched for her family, for her neighbours, friends; she was afraid of finding them dead or unable to recognize them, she shouted their names, she still held hope…

It was futile, the weight of despair made her collapse on her knees, she could hear her useless sobs, and still she hoped, she prayed, she shouted to heaven for help out of that hell, and it was answered.

At first she believed to have been stricken by the evil sword from her back, the pain was almost unbearable, but there was a feeling of peace that made her cling to consciousness, she could feel more than see the sheer light that made her float above the ground, a strong paternal yet maternal like soft voice whispered inside the core of her being, becoming her to a decision her bones ached to reach, like a child stretching her hands out to take those of her beloved father, wanting to be comforted in the warmth that surrounded her heart and made her love and admiration swell. She could see and understand more than she ever did, she could taste the ground and walk through the air, she could be the water and brush between the blazing fires of creation, her wings sprouted behind her, and she grasped the meaning of life… if only just for a second.

Calmly she opened her eyes, and their first after-human-life sight was another pair of eyes, grey eyes that were almost white, almond shaped, with two small slits that were the pupils; those eyes would be beside her forever, to aid her in the dire time, to be her company, her contact with the greatest being of them all, and also, to be her guide to fate.

Since that night, when she woke up, she knew she was not a human anymore, oh, no, she wasn’t. She knew what she had become, yet she didn’t feel too different.

In a spur of desolation and dread she had ran back to what she used to call home, her sweet but sad voice shouting for the names of those she loved, and her first encounter with the human race and against the evil was marked by the definite loss of everything and everyone she loved.

She felt alone, even if her company was right to its word, if a cat’s meowing counts as speaking.

Still that day, the first of her new job as receptionist of an important local company, she felt that something was missing, that there was a gape in her heart that refused to be filled, and sometimes it hurt; she knew what was missing, yet she could do nothing but wait for her to be given what was taken from her that night. She rubbed one sleepy eye, absently scratching behind an ear of her eternal companion, who purred lowly with the enjoyment of the caress. Angela Carlisle swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. Angela… it wasn’t even her real name, she forgot it with time.

She never did quite digest what happened, having found answers humans would die for through the light didn’t solve her biggest question, why did her loved ones all had to die? In truth, even if she could be considered one of the purest beings to have ever been created, she felt undeserving of her gift, she felt selfish at having survived while her family died…

Mikrael gave her a sharp glare that made her flinch out of her skin momentarily. She gave him a weak smile that only served to make her feel even more foolish; the cat could read her like a book. Mikrael, or Mi, how she called him in affection, was a very moody cat. Next thing it yawned and stretched its thin body, before smoothly licking its paw and passing it over its ear.

“Um,” Mi opened one eye to her, as if to defy her to disturb its precious cleansing time. She nodded to herself and turned around, jumping when the alarm clock blasted from her room. She practically flew to turn it off, hoping the Heaven forsaken machine didn’t wake up the entire country. Angie placed a hand over her erratic heart; it wasn’t possible for it to be beating so wildly and when it shrunk she understood why: it was because of the dream, the nightmare that kept waking her up early and reminding her of something she’d truly love to forget.

She bit her lip and started dressing for her first day of work. A yelp escaped her lips when the belt grazed the skin of her forearm, her startled dark eyes searched for a wound that was fast healing and she sighed, irritated at herself. How come just remembering that dream unbalanced her? It was a good thing Mi was still licking its hairy but bony body out in the kitchen; she shuddered at imagining the look it’d have given her had she yelped in front of it. Cautiously she turned back, her slacks in mid way to her waist; no cat in sight. She turned again one hundred and eighty degrees and screeched at the grinning creature.

Her wide eyes stared at its laughing greyish pair, her chest rising and falling rapidly to match the speed of her thumping organ. “Ah, Jesus in Heaven, Mi you scared me!” She pointed a finger at the cat, who in return waved its furry tail at her. She looked above for a second, her expression apologizing for her little blasphemy, before glaring at Mi’s feeble frame, albeit in a joking manner. “You’re going to be the end of me, Mi.”

An innocent look, a meow, it stretched.

She finished buttoning her slacks, grabbed the nearest, clean smelling shirt and put a jacket on, glancing nervously at the cat and occasionally at the blinding numbers of the evil ridden alarm clock. “Ack, I’m going to be late for my first day!” She strangled the handle of her purse and after recovering from the shock she pinched the cat’s skin at the base of its neck and flung it to her shoulder. She made a mad dash out of her flat, leaving the wind to be her hair dresser and make up artist and ran as fast as her feet could take her down the two blocks, where her new job place was located in.

“Being tardy is bad, Mi. Being punctual is good.” She voiced between pants.

She, in her daze, naturally, didn’t notice the seven platinum feathers her personal -and free- stylist stole from her.

Armith-Greenleaf (I realize my pen name appears in two places of the page, but I feel like reminding you guys who I am, haha. Ah well…).