Short Stories

Thirty-Six: War

(A/N): Sorry, for not posting in a while. I've been at camp for the past week. I hope this little story will be able to make up for it. Enjoy!

 She wiped the blood from her cheek and picked up the sword. His eyes followed her blade as she pressed it against his neck.

"Don't. Move." She gritted out. Her legs were shaking from the exertion of her sore muscles while the boy gave a bored yawn and flicked the sword to the side of his neck with his right pointer finger. Red, hot anger flooded through the angel's body as a flash of white light surrounded the girl. Strong, wiry pink wings dusted with a sugary white donned her caramel-skinned back as they spread out behind her. Two small glowing circle halos floated and spun round her wrists, hot golden sparks flew out from the halos, yet they didn't seem to burn the enraged angel. Golden specks flecked the girl's hands and bare feet. The girl's dirty and ripped white dress didn't take away any beauty from the sight in front of the demon. In fact, it seemed to accent the angel's form.

"I said not to move, you filthy demon." Her eyes were wide and dilated and her dainty lips curled into a sneer of fury. Her hands trembled as she clenched her bloodied fists tighter around the handle of the sword. She went to strike, strawberry-colored hair flying out behind her, but the boy simply did a backflip, landing on his feet gracefully. The flaming sword swiped through thin air as the demon smirked.

"Ah, ah, ah. I haven't even revealed my demon form yet." The boy whined, pouting while his eyes twinkled with mischief. A dark shadow came over the body and swirled around his lithe form. It revealed pale skin turning to black, a black-purple poison seemed to crawl up the demon's body and engulf the color that had once been on his body. His eyes turned red, the whites of the eyes matching the blood red. White slits were cut into the eyes as pupils, and a broken halo hung around the demon's neck. The halo was dull and seemed dusty while a gaping space in the right of the halo broke the otherwise perfect circle. The halo also touched the boy's chest, unable to float like the angel's. The boy's already black hair somehow turned darker as two tufts of hair defied gravity and turned upwards, forming what looked like horns. Although the angel couldn't see it, she knew two large ugly scars were torn into the boy's back where his wings would've been.

The demon flexed his claw-like fingers and waggled them in the direction of the angel. "Why don't I look wonderful! I missed the feeling of this power. It feels nice. It's been much too long since I've been in this form." He crooned. His snake-like tongue flicking in his mouth.

"Now, we can fight properly." He announced. The angel let out a war cry and leaped into the air and hurtled toward him, sword poised to swing and wings fluttering. He grinned like a Chesire cat and swept towards her claws ready to strike. They clashed in the middle, a black shadow shoving the angel back while a white light threw the demon back. The angel dug her sword into the floor to stop her trajectory, bright sparks flying out, leaving a thin crevice in the floor. The demon dug his claws into the floor, leaving large ugly gashes in the ground.

Thin wisps of shadows crawled out of the gashes and rose up. They crawled further and further up into the air until they manifested into the demons of the underworld. All their skin was a ghastly black with white slits for pupils and broken halos hanging on their bodies.

In contrast, bright beams of light shot out of the crevice of the sword and angels were beamed onto Earth. All their wings were spread and ready to take off with holy weapons held in their hands ready to slice and dice.

The two sides snarled at each other with a poison thicker than blood. The two sides let out their war cries and surged toward each other. Anguished cries filled the air as metal sliced through flesh while claws ripped out the throats of angels. The black blood of demon's burned the floor beneath them, making an ugly hiss. The red blood of the angel's sprouted flowers beneath their feet.

The clash of the two sides caused a powerful ripple through the air, causing dirt and grime to fly everywhere. Thousands of miles away, earthquakes made cities crumble into dust while on the coasts tsunamis rose up and swallowed the land up. People cried in desperation and confusion as the Earth started collapsing in on themselves. Mothers shrieked as their children stumbled into the crevices from the earthquake. Screams were silenced by waves as they crashed over them and filled their lungs. Somewhere in Brooklyn, a child cried as their father pushed them out the way as a slab of concrete fell onto their head, blood splattering everywhere.

However, none of the angels listened to the cries of humanity as they continued their fight with Hell. All they wanted was to win the war. And, so it went, angels killed demons while demons killed angels. The war went on until only one angel and demon remained on the battlefield, more than 90% of humanity dead. They faced each other down on the battlefield. Their skin was covered in the blood of angels and demons. Their hair was frayed and they bore battle wounds that would never leave. The angel caressed her brother, an angel with beautiful purple wings that were shredded by claws. The dead angel eyes were torn out and his body was mangled to the point of unrecognizability. She silently cried, tears pouring down her face as her hands shook. She could barely hold in the sob that threatened to escape her mouth. She bit her lip, blood surfacing as she held the angels marred face in her lap stroking his hair as if he was taking a rest. Her wings folding down and wrapping around her and the fallen brother. The demon on the other side of the battlefield sat on his knees, gripping the earth beneath them, as he stared at his closest friend. His cheeks were stained with black tears as he sobbed loudly over his friend. His clawed hands retracted, and his black skin faded into a pale white. His hair fell limply onto his face, matted and dirty with blood. The fallen demon had his throat cleanly slashed, the once reddish-black skin was now a dark gray. There was no color left in the skin of the dead demon. The demon's body shook with grief as he sobbed. His cries filled the air, agony in each sob that tumbled from his lips.

The angel couldn't hold back anymore and let her own cries of agony fall from her lips. The angel and the demon mourned over their fallen comrades. The two entities met in the middle of the battlefield, and an unspoken truce between them as they sat next to each other in silence. They spent the next few years manually digging a grave for each and every single one of the angels and demons instead of miracling graves. They suffered through the laborious work, punishing themselves for starting the war in the first place. Once they finished, they left the area, going their separate ways. Every few hundred years, they would visit the graves of their comrades. The two supernatural entities would visit each and every grave, demon and angel, and whisper apologies. They usually spent a month at the graves whispering their apologies before leaving to go back to their respective lives. The demon ran a popular bar, where he and others would drink their sorrows away. The angel ran a successful Private Investigative Service to try and right the wrongs she had done on the battlefield. The two watched the world rebuild itself as the centuries passed. Wounds were healed and the 'Disaster' was recounted as Earth's greatest feat, and the world moved on, only recalling it as a distant memory in history class. However, the demon and the angel never forgot, their scars haunting them until the end of their time.