Crack!
Lightning lit the sky, illuminating the inky blue abyss. Wind rushed past me, the rain soaking into my bones, into my very being. My soul shivered with the icy cold seeping in. Black spots abundant in the dismal sky, feathers flew past me, pure white turning into a velvet black. The spots materialised into shapes, the shapes of my brethren. My mind clouded, darkness trickling in, images arose: Clouds beneath my feet disappearing. Me falling. Still falling. Plummeting, gliding to death's door.
Wind pummelled at my lungs. My shoulder blades burning with intense pain, as though something was fighting to break through my creamy pale skin. My feeble mind couldn't grasp what was happening, my only thought -"I'm going to die". The kaleidoscope of blues, blacks and my brethren all blurring together.
Crack!
The sky was lit once more, snapping me out of my superficial state, snapping my consciousness back into reality. Though reality was just as befuddling. The light was only illuminating the sky for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. It was enough.
My indignation of being cast out shows the inequality of that hypocritical, sardonic, impassive being. That through being ostracized my brethren and I, we had to choose, we lost our custodial positions. We were cast out like last night's leftovers, cast out to endure inexorable throe.
Ash rained down covering me and my kin. The pungent scent of burning singed my nostrils and lungs, it pushed my wavering strength even lower. My body oscillated in the malicious wind, beating me down with no remorse.
The clouds cool against my outstretched arms and hands. Something clicked. It was strangely calming, being in the centre of an antagonistic swirl of wind and rain, plummeting to my own fate.
Fire flared up in my shoulder blades, the smooth flesh cracking and ripping. The fire was released. Wings blossoming from the open wounds on my shoulder blades, erupting into a burst of feathers, once white now a velvety black.
My mind traipsed through the forests of memories, some parts light and others dark and unnerving. All I managed was to make myself weary from a hike through the past, my nostalgia painful.
The depths going darker with the receeding light, eclipsing, but the sun wasn't going to come out. This is my soul. The light that remains just a shadow of what was, and what remains is just a shadow of the man I was. The benediction to heaven is one most costly. One of which you have to reiterate your allegiance to both heaven and God.
But that allegiance was broken...
I defied my master, we were created to adore the lord, and to be custodians of Earth. But God's morning star wanted more than heaven could offer. He wanted freedom and to be able to make choices, above all he wanted power and attention.
So we had to choose...
The queue contained all of heaven's angels, lined in rank order: arch angels, guardian angels, angels of death and angels of Earth (from everything from music to war). I was the angel of snow, it brings joy but also brings hardship. But ultimately needed, after all it is survival of the fittest; nothing weak ever thrives.
I can sense an ending coming as I fell down from heaven to a beaten Earth. The screams of agony pierced through the air from the ground below, a cloud of ash swallowing up what I could see. The cloud coming closer and closer.
And then I disappeared...
Engulfed by ash.
Grimacing in pain, ash filled my eyes, my eyeballs burning. Temporarily blinding me. I felt myself swirling in ash, not knowing which way was up, or which way was down. I felt sick to the bone, my whole body pummelled by a storm. Then my bones shattered, the force of the impact numbing all my nerves. I felt nothing.
After scanning the vista my eyes began adjusting to the dim light. Fires burned, smoke snaked around mangled bodies, rocks glazed from intense heat. My icy blue eyes locked with a woman's emerald green, a mass of scarlet hair cascading around a grimacing face. One that would have normally been alluring. Bones and flesh knitted itself back together, the wool winding tighter, until finally it was finished. The ash began to settle, light peeked through the formidable clouds. Illuminating clearly my surroundings, there were only angels. Their wings outstretched and battered, broken from their fall.
"Angel of snow" the announcer said, she spoke with an air of sophistication, but her voice was ice. "What do you choose?" I glanced at my friend, he gazed back- God's morning star. I had to choose between my friend or my creator. I chose my friend, many people did. I chose friendship for this war. His friendly smile and charismatic attitude was enough for almost anyone to side with him. I sauntered over to my friend's side. Then we fell, our last glimpse of our home, our comrades. Gone...
Awakening to that same falling feeling. But this time it was because of the haggard ground splitting open, into large cracks that spread for as far as my eyes could see. I hung to the wall of dry rock, for as long as I could, my attempts feeble. So I let go. I grew warmer; the stench of fire and brimstone filling my lungs. The air brushing against my wings- filthy with soot, and caked in dirt. I glided to the bottom of the chasm, knowing I had a meeting with destiny.
I was embraced by nearly complete darkness, the only light from torches. The cold rock was solid underneath my calloused hands. I could hear the grumbles and greetings of my friends, my family, my brethren. A thought that eluded me until now was my name, it means the lord has remembered. I wonder if the lord has remembered my choice.
Craggy caves covered the walls, which I would have to explore; I stretched out my own black wings. I realised my wings matched my mop of hair (inky black as a raven's feathers) and my snowy skin. I have chosen darkness, evil, but what really is evil?
That was when he walked towards me, with renowned swagger. His feet were grimy, with long broken toe nails like talons. Robust legs made for running stood before me . His battered trousers that were once white, now a murky grey, from dust and ash. His bare chest all muscles, his build strong. His arms were strong and hefty. The long slim fingers made for delicate tasks, like the playing of the instruments of war and death. Playing with the minds or his friends, plucking at their gentle heartstrings. Velvet wings, stretching out behind him, making his presence fill the cavern. His curly, golden, locks hung down into dazzling gold eyes. His mouth set into a resplendent grin, he displayed a set of pearly teeth. His jawbones were a soft curve, his cheeks lit with a rosy glow.
He opened his mouth to speak and suddenly I knew where I was, his voice came out soft and melodic. Somewhere in that voice a sinister note - a hint of hidden darkness, of cruelty.
"Welcome to Hell - Zachary."
He brought his smooth hand out for a solid, fluid, rehearsed handshake. Welcoming me to his side. This was my choice, this is my freedom, but the battle for freedom had only just begun.
"Pleasure to be here, Lucifer."
With that my final choice was made, the bells of death will toll, and hopefully peace will be made. Freedom achieved. But from war peace and freedom can never come, only violence and death. I walked off into my new life unbeknownst of the choice I had made, and the terror I would face. I have chosen evil over good. My funeral bell silent, but still there, marking the mistake I had made out of blind loyalty. I have chosen wrong, for that I would pay the ultimate price. It was not good to be there. Freedom has a cost. But there was never true freedom...
