So here's Ch 2 of my first Fictionpress Story, Forever Fallen. Thanks for the feedback. A special thanks to Sylver Dust for the review. Please read and review so I can know what you think of this chapter, but no flamethrowers please. Thanks.

Early BC

The Flood

The rain whips around me, lashing at my face and exposed limbs. I can hardly breathe through the torrents; much less see more than a few feet in front of me. But still I cling to the rock on which I seek shelter. I climb higher, always higher, to escape the rising floodwaters. Once I reach the top of the rock to which I'm clinging, I reach down and grab a slippery arm. I drag the child attached to it into my arms, trying to shelter it from the downpour as best I can. I feel a hopeless confusion wash over me along with the pelting rain. Why? Why would the Creator do this to His own children? Of course, I know the reason. It's because of the children, like the one cowering in my arms now. Not long after the Fall, many of my brethren looked around them, and suddenly found that humans were not so disgusting as they originally thought, after years of exile and loneliness. They formed connections with the humans, and the results were these children, the nephilim. The nephilim, at least those who survived past childhood, grew to become legendary heroes and beasts, both fierce and terrible. But now so many of these offspring have been sired that there are nearly none of the human bloodlines left pure of angelic blood and the Creator can no longer turn a blind eye. And so He chose to send a cleansing sweep to the humans, pouring out his wrath in the form of a flood. Of course, if a few of my kind get wiped out in the carnage, all the better.

The rain falls harder than ever, causing the flood waters to rise higher. They reach my ankles, then my waist. They tear from my grasp the child in my arms, one that I had hoped to save. We reach for each other, but he's pulled out of my grasp and under the waves, another one lost.

As if feeding off of their drowned victims, the floods keep steadily rising, threatening to pull me under as well, and I find my mind filled with panic. I can't fly, not with so much rain beating me down. I don't have the means to open the door to the hell dimension. Besides, I had sworn never to resort to that place, no matter how dire the straits. As the water climbs to my chest, I see a new sight break the featureless horizon. The brown speck pulls closer until I can see it's a boat. I find myself unsure of what to make of this strange salvation in the midst of all the water and I don't care. As soon as the boat draws closer, I leap from my rock, clinging to the side of my new shelter. But as I do, my eye catches another strange sight, one even more out of place than the ark. I can't be sure if what I see is real, or if the adrenaline and sheets of rain are causing me to hallucinate, but, looking up, I can swear I see a face perched from the highest point of the boat, the face of Michael.

I spot him again many times over the centuries and millennia. I see him as the mightiest empire on the earth gets ravaged by plagues. He's there at the birth of a baby, who will grow up to be a man on a tree. Everywhere I turn it seems I will spot him. But he's always in the background, a rustle of feathered wings, a glimpse of his profile and nothing more. It will take thousands of years and a revolution for us to meet face to face again.