The Dark Angel's Fate
Dark hair rode in the ice-cold winds, her pale skin contrasting in the still, lifeless night. He would be waiting for her by the creek like he always did; their time together was limited, but worth the risk. It was strictly forbidden for an angel of hell to love an angel from heaven; however, that only drew the two lovers closer. They couldn’t deny fate even if they wanted to.
“Took you long enough,” he said with a gentle smile, “I was about to go find you.”
The Dark-Angel smiled lovingly at her lover; his concern toward caused a sensation that she could not comprehend. She knew pain (all angels of darkness knew pain), but this was something foreign to her. Her lover, when she had described the sensation to him, laughed and called love. She knew what love was, it was considered taboo amongst her fellow comrades and only a few angels from hell had ever experienced true love. Though she had been taught to never succumb to the false joys of love she wanted, no, needed more of the feeling.
“They’ve been getting suspicious, I had to wait for sleep to claim them before taking flight here.” her voice was silk and honey, enchanting and melodic. Though a descendant of evil, her voice was to be admired by heavenly souls. Even darkness could birth something as beautiful as herself.
He wrapped his strong arms around her petite form, the cold of the night melted under his warm embrace. The Dark-Angel looked up and saw a sad smile on his face; the sadness touched her, and she feared what he might say. If she could urge him not to speak, she would. However, heavenly angels could not lie to those who needed to hear the truth and he would never lie to her.
“Perhaps our secret is becoming seen.” His voice, though so tender and loving, pierced her heart and soul.
The Dark-Angel, though she could not deny the truth in those words, shook her head and forced herself to look away from her lover. The angels of heaven were of no concern; though their love was against the laws of heaven, it was real, and God could not punish them so harshly for it. But in hell, the rules were so vastly different in comparison. If they knew of her affair, then the worst punishment would be inflicted upon herself and her lover. The crime of loving the enemy was bad enough; cheating on the lord’s son with the enemy was beyond worse. And cheating she was; against her will, she had been offered as the mate of her Lordship’s son and now she had shamed the noble bloodline through her infidelity. Her actions against the promise, which was sealed in blood, did not bother her, it was only the consequences that chilled her soul.
“I wouldn’t hesitate to tear off these wings for you,” he whispered into her ear, a gasp escaped her as he spoke. “but would you tear yours off for me?”
“Of course,” she whispered, fear struck her heart as she realized that the frigid air froze; her own breath now visible. The wind that was biting her flesh had ceased to blow.
“Is that so?” a dark figure approached the forbidden couple; the two angels held their ground in their embrace as the shadows morphed into figures. The figure who spoke partially appeared beneath the moonlight; tall, pale, eyes colored like bright red rubies, and a sneer that promised the greatest suffering to those who stood before him.
“My lord…” The Dark-Angel clutched the coat that covered her lover, his arms tightened around her in a protective gesture. “How...?”
“I waited for you to leave,” he replied casually, he did not step into the light as he spoke. He made no move nor gesture that appeared threatening, but they instinctively knew that the shadows that now surrounded them had their orders. They already knew when to strike. “I didn’t believe that you would be such an unfaithful demon, but the truth is hard to cover.”
Tears slipped from her dark eyes, she knew what would happen and that there was no way for them to escape together. Her lover felt the sense of defeat and his jaw clenched; he knew that this was bound to happen one day, he had only hoped that maybe it wouldn’t happen this way. He pulled her closer in a feeble attempt to make the bitterness go away.
“Punishment must be fulfilled before your execution.” His Lordship declared, “Take them both.”
The Dark-Angel was held by blood-rusted chains, the cold metal was unbearable against the softness of her flesh. The rust discolored her skin, the sharpness of the edge dug into her and left scratches and small cuts. Tears leaked from her eyes as she heard the screams of other prisoners who were suffering deadly fates. Death was heavy in the air, the holy angels feared this prison for a reason, same for the dark angels.
Her mind wandered to her lover, where was he being kept? Last she saw him, he was limp as the guards drug his body into another corridor. Was he still alive? Or were one of those blood-curdling screams his? She could only wonder until the Prison-keeper came to collect her.
It felt as though a mortal’s lifetime had passed before the Prison-keeper finally arrived. The Prison-keeper was, at best, a beast that had some semblance to a mortal man. There was human flesh that covered his muscles, though he had patches of inflamed burns and gashes. He stood well over six feet and anyone who stood in his presence felt pathetically small.
“Move it!” he roared, his thunderous voice boomed through the prison. The other cells, which were once noisy, were silent. “Time for your punishment.”
The shackles that bound her were released and her aching arms fell to the floor. Her legs, which had gone dead under her weight, struggled to move. The Dark-Angel moved with what strength she could muster, which was barely much. However, given that she could move at all, the Prison-keeper was impressed. He waited somewhat patiently for he knew that even angels of hell couldn’t protect themselves from the wallowing pits of their prisons. It was quite a surprise that she hadn’t begun to vomit like others.
“Move along now!” he growled when she stumbled.
His voice sent a wave of adrenaline through her and she moved quickly to where the Prison-keeper could hold her by the base of her wings. His grip was crushingly firm; she dared no move unless he moved. A soft whimper escaped her lips, her bitter tears flowed like an unstoppable river down her sickly pale cheeks. Being in the prison was torture enough but it was comparably less frightening than what was waiting for her elsewhere.
She was pushed toward the large doors that lead into the court, it was beyond these doors that she would be punished and executed. The doors opened, and the thunderous voice called to the spectators. “Announcing the arrival of the traitor.”
She was shoved forward before the Lord and his son, disgust written onto their features as their eyes fell upon her. The room was well lit by torches, everyone could see that she was noticeably paler than normal and that discoloration around her wrists almost appeared to them as burn marks. Her long hair was no longer full and silky, but oily and disheveled. If she had not been looking down at the floor, they would have seen that her eyes now had determination and sadness within them. She knew that this would happen, she had to face her punishment.
“I see the prison didn’t affect you in the way I had hoped.” His Lordship growled, noticing that she was daring to stay strong. “I always knew you were a strong one.”
She didn’t dare look at him, he was mocking her and if she dared to look at him it would mean she was begging to be spared. She would endure the torment just as she promised.
“Bring the chains.” he ordered, “Let us begin the show.”
Looking to her right, she saw the heated chain whips that were only ever used for special occasions. These chains were heated with the flames of hell and, when whipped, left gashes that scarred your bones. If they were to tear off her wings, the damage would be tenfold. However, there was a far more cynical method his Lordship would use.
He grabbed the chains (the searing heat was of no concern to him) and begun wrapping two of the chains around the base of her black wings. She hissed, her head shot up and her eyes closed themselves to will away the pain. He then proceeded clasp the chains with a hook that hung from the ceiling. A guard stood beside a large wheel that controlled the hook; he was to slowly pull her wings and the chains would infect the growing wound with unimaginable pain. This was his Lordship’s favorite torture with a small twist; these chains were infested with spikes that grow longer and sharper with each scream she made. As the guard pulled the hook, she screamed; the spikes grew and grew, biting into the bones that connected her wings to her back. Her blood sizzled on the chains, creating boiling liquid that burned her even more. She screamed and screamed, this pain couldn’t be bitten back; torture from hell can never be ignored. His Lordship flicked his wrist to the guard, his signal to rip out her wings. It took only one pull, jerking with all his strength; her wings were ripped off leaving only two broken bones sticking out of her back where the small black wings were. Blood splattered everywhere around the angel.
Her breath ragged, blood-stained tears fell without grace. A wretched sob croaked from her throat, her lungs begged for the sweet outdoor air that she used to share with her lover.
“Your suffering does not end here, child.” The mocking tone of his voice had barely registered in her weak mind, her thoughts were incoherent. “Now, you must watch your lover suffer.”
A snap of his fingers and the holy angel, dragged by his wrists, entered the room. He was covered in his own blood, his beautiful white wings gone. She had looked up and saw that he too was barely able to think past the pain. He looked at her, her eyes called for him as he called to her.
“I shall have your wings mounted above my throne as a trophy.” His Lordship whispered into her ear, a choked sob escaped her.
Standing with power, he walked over to her lover and forced the heavenly angel to look at him. The angel (although he should not be considered an angel, for he has no wings), glared hatefully into the eyes of the Lord.
“You shame my son by stealing his lover, you corrupted one of my best angels of hell into believing in love, you dare to tempt her with promises of freedom; you had her as your slave. Such a crime shall not go with impunity.”
“I committed no such crime.” the holy one coughed, he took in a sharp breath and continued, “She came to me willingly and I did not refuse her.”
“Lies!” his Lordship spat, “Your holy aura tricked her! No fallen angel in their right mind would love a holy one like you so willingly.”
“None who wish to remain amongst your kind!” The weak angel hissed, “But I know the truth: she didn’t want to be here, with the creature you call a son! If she desired freedom, it was from you! She knew not what love was when she came to me, but she knows it now. She knows of the love your kind deprived her of, and she learnt it through me.”
“An illusion is what she learned of.”
“An emotion which can bring happiness to her life! A feeling that caused her to see things, see the world differently!” The angel growled, his voice grew stronger as he spoke. His words reached her muddled mind and she watched as he boldly declared their love before her former comrades. “I love her! Born from darkness but touched with a sense of beauty I had never seen before. Though evil is in her nature, so was kindness and passion! She does not belong amongst you! I would have sacrificed everything to make her mortal, to follow her down to the Earth and live as a human beside her!”
“To become mortal, become human!?” His Lordship, despite his sardonic laughter, was mortified that the angel would want to join the humans just to love a hellish angel. “To join God’s grand mistake? I scoff at the notion!”
“Scoff all you want, my love for her stands true. I shan’t give up on her.”
His Lordship exchanged a heated glare with the former angel before stomping his foot into the angel’s face. The force of the attack threw the angel’s head back at an odd angle; there was a crack that sounded, and the angel groaned loudly. The sight of seeing her lover being attacked involuntarily caused the Dark-Angel to scramble and frantically reach for him. A nearby guard reached her and held her down; the force of his weight pressed against her weak body forced out another cry. Her lover, despite his own agony, had found some strength and tried to reach her as well. She knew better than to plead for his life, but her heart made the request clear through her eyes. His Lordship, upon hearing her scream and the collective gasps of the spectators, turned and saw the female angel in a sickeningly pitiful state.
The holy angel had been telling the truth; she was in love with him. This complicated matters for his Lordship; his initial plan was to spare her and allow his son to do as he pleased with her. He had thought to be a suiting punishment since she had no regard for what she had been given. However, this sight that played before him had made his stomach churn and his blood boil.
His Lordship turned toward one of the guards and ordered for acid to be brought to him. The dark angel’s heart stopped, and her eyes widened with terror. Acid was not a common ingredient for torture and for good reason; it was too simple and lacked creativity. However, it was still used on occasions and there were several ways that it could be used to his Lordship’s liking. She whimpered and struggled against the weight of the beast on top of her; regardless of what the acid was used for, they were both going to die. If she must die now, then she would try to die alongside the angel she hopelessly loved.
A guard brought his Lordship a vile of green liquid, it was a specially brewed acid that could only be found in Hell. His Lordship analyzed the contents of the vile before holding it over the holy one’s wounds, a few drops spilled over the torn flesh. His screams pierced the room, his cries tormented his lover as she fought to look away. Her eyes were glued to his disfiguring body; everything she loved was melting away.
“S-Stop!” She hardly recognized her own voice as she pleaded for his Lordship to cease their suffering. “Please stop!”
The sounds of her melodic voice crying for mercy was the last nail in the coffin. His Lordship reached for his scythe and plunged it into the holy one’s spine, dragging it up until it split his head open. She screamed loudly as she witnessed her lover’s murder. The disfigured corpse fell to the ground; there was blood everywhere, the blood of an angel.
“You should blame yourself for his death.” His Lordship said as he cleaned his scythe, it would be used again shortly. “You know that love between the holy ones and us is forbidden. You are to blame.”
Whimpers and tears escaped her as she internally cursed his Lordship. She knew their love was forbidden, the consequences rang in the back of her mind every time they were together. But, could she be responsible for her lover’s death if fate wanted them together? She thought back to when she had first met her angelic lover, to when they first found that creek. At the time, neither thought they would love one another; she vaguely remembered that her lover commented upon the uniqueness of their relationship and said that fate wanted them together. They were drawn together in a way that felt unusual, yet natural. He had said that humans referred to the idea as being soulmates.
If loving the holy angel was a sin, if they were truly destined to love and be forcibly torn apart, then so be it. It was their fate. Her fate now stood before her, at the end of his Lordship’s scythe; this was the Dark-Angel’s fate.
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