Demon in My View

Psalm I: The Fade

Psalm I: The Fade

At first he didn't recognize the fluttering fluff in the air. It appeared light and curled with the wind that carried it. When the fuzz landed in front of him, he realized what it was and reached down to pick it up.

The feather was hot to the touch, scalding his skin. He dropped it, but it stuck to his finger for a second more before floating down to the ground. He saw the blood. It was sticky between his fingers and silver in color like thick mercury. That confirmed it. His heart pounded in his chest.

A cluster of feathers swirled around in the air like leaves in the wind. For a moment, he was mesmerized by the light touch they gave the air. It was a physical manifestation of the wind, the sight of it an alien portrayal of delicacy. It was the blood droplets following the feathers that was a more recognizable scene for him.

They had come from the back of the tree. He walked up to it and looked.

He didn't know why he was surprised to see an angel. He had expected to encounter her-they were the only creatures in existence that had feathers. He might as well have found a mountain of gold, but all he could do was stare.

The angel hadn't noticed him. Her body shook with sobs as an arm reached to her back. Slender fingers gripped her feathers, grabbing as many as she could in a fist. Her cries paused and a grunt was heard as she pulled. It sounded like a knife digging into already decimated flesh as she yanked her feathers off her back. She released them into the wind where they were carried a few feet only to float down to the grass like a bug struck dead in midair.

Her weeping continued and he stared. He had to do it now if he was to have her, but his limbs were weighed down by boulders.

The angel turned and saw him. She gasped through gritted teeth and stood up. Her wings spread out behind her, sending a fresh spray of torn feathers at him. Each touch of them scorched his skin like little suns.

He saw her right wing was whole and healthy with brown and white plumes while her left appeared like a hole-ridden sheet. Stringy chunks of flesh hung between the gaps like framed hearts. The tip of her winged bone was bare and mapped by silver rivers that cascaded through torn feathers. Blood and gore splattered on the grass, on the bark, and on his body with each flap, but despite her wing's misshapen and shredded state, she kept a strong hover.

"Willful creature," she said.

The words were meaningless to him, but the way she spat them out had sounded like an insult. He felt affronted but also ashamed. Confused at his sudden emotions, he took an angry step towards her, but she shot higher in the air. It wasn't till she became a dot against the sun that his legs propelled him into a run.

His body could withstand a marathon, but even he couldn't keep up with a flying angel. His breath rattled his chest until he couldn't breathe anymore and had to stop. He collapsed to the ground, shaky fists punching it. A sting on his arm caught his attention and he found a light brown feather stuck to his elbow, damp with blood. He gripped it in his hand, its divine touch scorching his palm.

He threw his head back to face the white sky. "Fuck!"

It wasn't the fact that he hadn't captured her that infuriated him or caused him to do what he did. It was how quickly he forgot how she looked that made him stab the burning feather in his eye.

*************

Author's Note: I should be working on Calathus, buuuuuuuuut...obviously I didn't.

Anyway...this is part one of a short story that's been bouncing around in my head. It might seem a bit...disturbing further down along the line...if I find the courage to write what I see in my head. We will see.

Thanks for reading. x3