Devils Don't Fly

Prologue

Micheal Mercier kneeled in defeat onto the cold, wet, New York City pavement as he watched the men walk towards him. He thought of his wife and newborn daughter waiting for his safe return, something that will never happen. The iron sword hung mercilessly in Thomas Leroy's hand as he approached him with a mocking look in his eye,

"Well, well, Micheal, who's the boss now?" The evil glint in his eyes dared a competition with the stars. 

"Don't do this, Thomas, the angels will never let you return to Heaven. Killing an archangel is a crime proven unforgivable."

"You're delusional if you think I give a damn about what the archangels think of me anymore." 

"What about me? We used to be friends once, before you fell. Before all the responsibilities."

"We were never friends. You tried to trick me into your brainwashed society with promises not even the archangels could fulfill."

"The archangels aren't your enemies, they want to help us."

"No, you're wrong and it's sad you can't see it. You'll never change and that's why I have to do this. For my family."

"And what about my family? My daughter can't even walk or talk yet, my wife has no more family to support them. They need me."

"Well, hopefully they won't be alive long enough to reap the consequences of your death," Thomas growled before bringing down the sword to meet the base of Micheal's head.