The Fallen One

Chapter One

“What are you talking about?” Izaiah growled.

          “I am saying that I want to see how come you Archangels despise the human race,” Tiffany replied, looking up at the Archangel. Tiffany knew she was out of place to be standing in the office of Izaiah’s office. No one dared to do what she was doing, but she wanted to finally touch Earth with her own feet. She knew she was asking too much, but she wanted it since she was stuck in heaven for the last millennium.

          “You do realize that you will have no memory of being here until you find your grace that will be hidden? You will have to start over. You will know how to walk, but you will have to learn the human’s language, and be treated like a trouble-minded child?”

          Izaiah was trying to scare the girl to make her back out of her choice, but Tiffany shook her head slightly, knowing his mind games. “I do know this, sir, but I still want to see it for myself,” she said as she looked down at her feet. “I want this more than anything.”

          Izaiah looked at the fragile girl, and sighed. “You do realize that there is no angel that wanted to go down to Earth, and returned with both their soul, and their grace?” he asked as he leaned against his desk, his weight on his knuckles that were placed on the desk.

          Tiffany nodded slowly as she looked up at the man. “I know. But I want to at least given a chance.”

          “Fine,” the Archangel grunted. He stood up straight, picked up the receiver of a phone, and pressed it to ear as he pressed a few buttons. He turned around so Tiffany wouldn’t see his lips tremble words into the phone.

          Tiffany sighed to herself, as she began to count in her head. It was her favorite thing to do, even if the archangels can hear it in their minds.

          When Tiffany reached one-hundred thirty-two, Izaiah sighed as he dropped the phone on the receiver, and looked up at the girl who was standing there, waiting.

          “They said you can go, but you won’t have it easy. You will have two years to find your grace,” he said as he picked up a set of keys.

          Tiffany remembered her thoughts about him being the janitor, and he would roll his eyes because of the thought.

          “You will have memory of your name, but nothing more. You will be stripped of your wings, as well,” he said as he walked around the desk. “Your quest won’t be simple.” Izaiah stopped walking as he reached a pair of doors in the room. He pushed the key into the key hole, and turned it until a soft click echoed in the room. “You will have trouble with other angels because they will steal your grace if they find it.”

          Tiffany nodded as she looked at the man’s back, biting her bottom lip for a moment before he turned around, and looked at her.

          “Ready?” he asked as he yanked open the doors to a vortex that happened to suck the air out of the room. He moved out of the way, and gripped the doors tightly.

          “Now?” she asked in shock. As she walked closer, the pressure of being pulled in grew stronger.  She looked up at the Archangel just in time to see him push the angel into the vortex.

          Tiffany screamed as she fell into the center of the black hole. The air was being sucked out of her lungs as she tried to set herself free. Panicking, Tiffany tried to reach for something to grip to stop her from falling. There was nothing but the hot air around her.

          Once she stopped struggling, something felt like it was being stabbed into her wings. She screamed in agony, feeling what felt like hand saws cutting into her flesh of her wings. The pain was so unbarring, Tiffany fell unconscious as her other wing was being sawed off.

She was still falling.  

Falling into the forever of nothing.

Or as it seemed.