The Fallen Angel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Moments before Lucifer takes the dive from Heaven into Hell.

Submitted: March 05, 2007

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Submitted: March 05, 2007

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And then she turns towards him and says, “So, I guess this is good-bye.”

Lucifer perches on the edge of the towering cliff, looking away. He looks down below at the misty clouds and dusty human civilizations, allowing his long, blond hair to fall loose in the gentle wind. His feathery wings tatter, leaving trails of blood behind him as he drops the gory sword. He holds a crucifix close to his heart. His eyes whisper words of melancholy.

She flips her hair out of her face and asks, “Will I ever see you again?”

“It depends, my love.” He speaks. His eyes still fixate on the world down below, leaving zero signs of longing and regret. “You know, I can’t go back.”

She watches him bleed. His white robe has already torn apart. Pieces of splattering flesh covers his body. Swords and battle axes scrape his beautiful, porcelain skin, and splashes of blood stains his angelic face. Yet, no physical pain causes more agony than that of his bleeding heart.

“This is the only way to end the war,” he says. Too many angels died for no good reason at all. His ambivalence and love for the angelic race flow out of his tiresome voice. Even the dusking clouds behind him, taint in red and orange, proclaim much sorrow.

The War in Heaven is costing more than just the lives of these heavenly messengers, but also the trust between the choirs and the council of angels, who are responsible for Heaven while God is away. He must call an end to this. He must.

"We don't have a choice." He looks up towards the direction of the army of angels coming behind them. He sighs. Angels are designed to serve God, and that is programmed in them since the beginning of time. It will be like this for all eternity. This is something, not Lucifer, nor anyone can change.

She puts her head down and shakes it slowly. "You had good intentions, but you had no idea who you are going against."

"No," Lucifer smiles. "I knew this is all going to happen.” He knew about this war and the hefty price tag it comes with it.

She widens her eyes in shock. "Then?"

"This is all part of His experiment, my love," he chuckles. “He disappeared for a purpose. He created this power struggle between the angels in Heaven. He is mad."

She resists the urge to appear surprised. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lucifer stands up from the edge of the cliff, his height towers over her petite frame. He reaches out his hand to caress her smooth face, in which she gladly indulges. "Remember the time when we used to play in his private garden, by the tree with purple fruits and all those streams with clear water?"

She nods.

"Remember how He used to watch us from afar, and constantly reminded us that we were His favorites?"

"It was just you," she looks down. "You were His favorite."

Lucifer laughs. "And then all of a sudden this changed one day when He created Michael."

She looks away, reminiscing a long forgotten past.

"And then neither of us were allowed to play in His garden anymore, for reasons He would not reveal. He merely said no. And all I could do was to watch Him from afar, stroking on Michael's hair." He breathes out heavily. That thought drives him insane.

She looks into his pupils, darkens by the looming clouds behind her. His eyes remain focused on hers. And she feels his stare trickling every single nerve of her being.

"I desired to be close to Him, but he refused. He told me not to question His decisions," he speaks. "Because, all of this are just part of His grand scheme. He stopped speaking to me completely, and that was eons ago."

She looks at him wallowing in pain.

"And one day, he just decides to be gone."

"How do you know?" She questions.

"I know, because I cannot feel His presence anymore. I know when I looked into Michael's eyes when I asked about Him, and he straight-out lied to me."

A moment of strange silence. A silence of truth.

“You know,” she speaks, “I'm sure He still loves you.”

A horde of dust clouds build up behind them, getting closer. Noises of people screaming, galloping horses, and wheels of chariots crescendo in a distance. The clamor gets louder and stronger. The ground shakes beneath them.

"That is the part I cannot understand," he speaks at length.

She watches him breaks apart. His tears flow down his already fouled face, like drops of pearls glistening with perfect luster. A dark rain cloud drowns over his head as he contemplates his misery. She knows, for that same reason, the punishment is an on-going progress.

"And only until very recently, I realized what it is."

She opens her mouth, but the words can't come out.

Lucifer puts his finger on her lips. Gently, he says, "Don't worry about it, my love. Somebody has to take the blame."

Just as soon as he finishes the sentence, a flock of army arrives at the scene. Michael, the archangel and leader of the army, lowers his fiery sword and removes his helmet. "This is the end, Lucifer. You have nowhere to go. Surrender now and ask for forgiveness. You might still stand a chance for a pardon."

Lucifer looks at her as she is being pulled back into their custody, her face twists in tears. He looks at his fellow comrades, who have been fighting this war for over a millennia, all being tied-up and dragged behind horses and chariots with their wings cut off. His heart sores.

"Who am I going to ask for a pardon?" Lucifer sneers. “You?”

Michael yells at him. "Are you mad? Who else? Over the past thousand years, not only your heart turned cold but your brain might as well became mush."

Lucifer laughs loudly. "But He is not here anymore. You know this better than I do. You think you can take over this Heaven and lead the choirs and the council?"

Michael stuns at Lucifer's words, but he regains his composure almost immediately. "Here or not, I'm not allowing you to take over His place. He is going to return. And until that day, I will secure this Heaven."

Lucifer looks at him with sympathetic eyes. "You have no idea why you are doing this, do you?"

Michael, with eyes half-closed, "I do not need to question it."

"Such a fool."

He looks down to Earth, all of a sudden realizing what a beautiful place it is. Lucifer embraces this pain and this blame. He endures it as he makes his decision to fall.

He takes a leap off the edge of the cliff. As he falls back, he sees her face again in the midst of the clouded dust. He holds the crucifix close to his heart. Then he sees a third of the angels being thrown down by the archangel's command. And they also fall alongside with him.

She runs to the edge of the cliff, still being pulled back by her wings, watching each and every one of the betraying army being thrown down with their wings cut-off, some of them already dead. Blood and screams fill the moist, filthy air. Michael stands at the edge of the cliff, allowing this hellish scene to fill up his vision.

Michael whispers to himself, "If only He's here..."

And he closes his eyes.


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