The Rebellion of An Angel.

Ⅰ. The Crash, and Fall.

Note: this is my first time using this format, i apologize for any errors!!

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''You were meant to be the shepherd, for me, for them. For them all.''
''You were supposed to use your crook to guide, though it seems I've taught you incorrectly.''

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Falling.
That's all I could remember.
Wraith from the Gods bore down on my once pristine being, scalding to the touch as I was thrown down from my throne up above.

I was no longer of use to my creator, my God,
whose hands once cradled my entire being;
felt so. Much. hate.

Despite being hundreds of thousands of feet in the air, I haven't felt so exposed in my existence. My skin, once kissed by the light itself, felt so burnt.

The wings that once graced the sides of my back melted like hot glass, feathers charred, and the smell was similar to a wildfire. It felt like the very bone was ripped from my frame, though I couldn't find it in me to scream, as such was numb, already focused on the sensation of the air almost flowing through my very being, similar to that of an icy comet.

It wasn't long before I felt the ground cave in around me with the impact, a faint crater lined my silhouette as I felt the strong ache beneath my ribs, quickly spread to my entire torso. A faintly trembling hand came to my side, wincing as I had pressed faint pressure on the ache, eyes bleary as I tried to regain my sense of place. And my (religiously) nude body suddenly felt very exposed.

By god, I need to cover up. I thought, looking around the foliage, and spotted my one clean garments, now stained and torn, though I couldn't care less, and hastily went to cover up.
And with a deep inhale, I lifted myself, or as well as I could, leaning on the branches and stumps that were within my reach, hands grasping out like a newly walking fawn as I pulled myself up, and leaned against a large, mossy rock.
Medium-length, curled black hair messily blocked my vision, freehand drawn upon the wind-tangled strands, hazel eyes squinted as I looked ahead, for a sign. Anything.

But it seemed I still was gifted with a little bit of grace, spotting a hint of an older structure, perhaps some cabin? No. Too big and too red. A barn, maybe. My wounds throbbed strongly, but I wouldn't let that come over me, not now.

So, I eased myself onto my feet, getting used to the soil beneath me. With a heavy step, I moved forward, a limp broke my gait as I pushed myself forward, despite not being used to the softer weight along my back and the cooling burn of my newly earned marks.

The more I walked, the closer I got to the structure, though in an open field, didn't seem too occupied. My feet toted me lightly across the blades of grass that bore across the land, with such elegance I used to maintain.

As I approached the rustic building, I noticed how it seemed to by truly empty, behind it there was a home, and a smooth black car in the gravelly driveway. I slowly approached the large barn door, slowly cracking it open as the hinges make a silent squeak. My form slipped past the doors, and silently stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the dark light inside. My steps were silent, taking note of the equipment and tools hung across the walls.

I searched around, perhaps more modest clothing was left behind, or I could try and check the house not far off. As I searched, my hopes of finding something worth taking in this barn was feeble, nothing much of use to me here. So I moved on, stepping out of the barn as sneakily as I could, like a snake traversing sand in the desert.

I found myself approaching the backside of the house, the porch-light was on, but it seemed that no one was home. My footsteps creaked on the wooden stairs to the back door patio, bare feet making contact with the dry wood.

Almost as quick as I opened the door,
I was hit black.

(pretty short chapter. GET CLIFFHANGED!!
I will be continuing this, if you have any requests, feel free to ask :])