Enrapture | The Angels Series Book 2 | Slow Updates

Chapter Four

Blood. So much blood. Fire burned the land and people ran frantically from left to right. The lifeless bodies of women littered the ground and blood soaked the earth. The stench of it surrounded him. It wasn't any average mortal blood, but something more powerful. The scent made him dizzy.

He caught sight of a beautiful woman as she ran past, and immediately recognized her aura as one of his targets. He marched toward her, grabbing her by the arm and turning her to face him. Her eyes grew wide and her lip began to quiver. She shook her head frantically, though no words fell from her lips.

He felt guilty almost, as he lifted his blade and drove the tip through her side. She screamed and the sound echoed in his mind even long after she had fallen to the ground in a heap. A woman called her name but he forced himself away, not wanting to add another victim.

His control over himself was weak, but sometimes he could will it to come forth. It was as though...something...else had possessed him. At times, he wanted to stop what he was doing, but then the thought would simply blow away like a leaf caught in the breeze. It would be as though he had never felt it at all.

Looking around him, he saw the six-winged angels descend from the Heavens, bringing with them their wrath and fury. Enormous in stature and much stronger than he, it would be hopeless to fight against it. What's more, with every ounce of effort he exerted to hang on to any thread of control, the stronger the commands became – until his mind was forced into silence as his body proceeded to obey.

He didn't know what was worse. It was his duty to follow orders, yet these orders felt so wrong. Nevertheless, he would follow them. He had no choice. He was trapped in himself, and his body continued to move of its own accord.

Another one of his targets rushed by – her golden hair was braided loosely and her green eyes filled with fear as she realized her mistake. She had gotten too close in her attempt at escape. Regrettably, he grabbed her and bound her hands. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself from fully executing the command and destroying her.

He would have left her there, had he not arrived just in time. Oh, how Michael disliked him. He would say he hated him if it weren't a sin to feel such a thing. The strongest of all the Seraphim, Uriel, came to Michael's side and smiled at the bound victim.

"Mother Goddess," he shrilled, the emotionless cold in his voice filling Michael's veins with ice, "isn't that what they call you?"

He forced his mind away, not wanting to hear or see what was happening. It was painful enough. His heart hammered in his chest and he wanted to scream. He wanted to unleash his own fury. Whether or not these people had sinned, they were creations of the Lord. Why should they suffer so terribly?

His mind was forced back against its will when Uriel spoke his name to execute his next command.

"Saint Michael, finish it."

The words had left his lips before he had a chance to process them.

"Yes, Sir."

He lifted his sword and locked his eyes with the poor woman. Tears streaked her beautiful face but she stood her ground. Her emerald eyes remained locked with his and she lifted her chin in defiance. He respected her, for she showed no fear. And then his sword cut through the air and came down hard on its target.

She didn't scream, even when it tore through her flesh and left her body broken and gushing blood. Still, the screams of those around him as they ran in a scattered chaos filled his ears. All around him, the world was bathed in blood.