Angels Have Fallen
By
Christina Byus
Copyright 2011 Christina Byus
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Her honey colored eyes hovered above mine, nose close enough to brush the tip of my own. I coughed, ragged and desperate for breath. She didn’t mind. Liquid rolled up my throat, filling my mouth with the hot taste of iron, spilling out of the corners of my lips. Gently, she wiped it away. She spoke, but I heard nothing. Ringing in my ears prevented me from hearing what her voice sounded like. All I saw was her face, crowded by the long raven black locks that fell around her features. Occasionally I felt them against my own face. Full lips stretched into a warm smile despite the destruction I knew erupted around us. The smile reached her eyes, in them a sparkle of hope that I reached for with my soul. I hardly noticed the dirt and blood on her face, I could barely see past the beauty she projected.
The fingers of my right hand twitched in excruciating pain. I was regaining feeling. My legs wouldn’t move, but I kept trying. Something happened behind her, her neck snapped toward the distraction. I wanted to touch her, reach out and cup her face in my hands. My toes were wiggling, on both feet. She returned her attention to me, but her eyes had hardened, smile no longer there. I opened my mouth to ask what changed. All I got out was more coughing, wheezing painfully. A shield, smaller than mine, was in her hand. She covered my chest with it, sitting up straight, giving me a clear view of the clouded, crimson sky.
I lifted my head slowly, with much effort, to survey my surroundings. All around bodies piled high, both angel and demon intertwined in death. Sparks from the clash of weapons lit the dusty air. My brethren fought bravely, though numbers were few. Hideous aerial monsters flew high, diving down to pluck up a battling angel, carelessly thrashing the body aside.
As if someone suddenly turned on the sound, all the noise of the world came back in one great and terrifying explosion to my ears. My body reacted in surprise, causing every bit of pain to sting once more. Screams and the crackle of fire mixed with the commotion of battle. I wanted to fight, my will was strong. It was my body that betrayed me. My injuries proved to be too great, still unable to bring myself into an upright position.
The beauty spread her undamaged wings, a bluish-white, not like my dark feathers. Creating a dome, she covered the two of us in the bright housing of her wings. I thought it might be what serenity looked like if you could see it. Her head nuzzled into the crook of my neck, hair covered my face. She smelled like a combination of fresh flowers, love, and death. My left arm lifted enough for me to wrap it around her back, to hold her, and if I were strong enough, to protect her. Instead she saved me.
Beneath us the earth trembled, violently shaking. A rumble in the distance snuck up on us in a matter of seconds. Her grip on my shoulders tightened as the world came crashing down. She whispered in my ear, again I couldn’t hear her due to the apocalyptic sound outside of her comforting wings. Then the world went dark.
When I regained consciousness I didn’t recognize the room I laid in. The bed that supported my body was new, everything white and sterile, a medical facility. Somehow I had been brought to a hospital of sorts for recovery. Cycling through my memory, I couldn’t figure out how I got there.
My arms and hands had regained full mobility. I assessed the rest of my ailing body. Lifting the stiff white sheet that covered me I found my torso had been wrapped from armpit to under my bellybutton. Bending to remove the rest of the sheet, I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my left side where my ribs were. I wanted to peel away the bandages, abstaining only to seek what damage my legs had sustained.
Outside the small room I heard a busy chatter, wheels rolling, charts being flipped through. My chart couldn’t have been too far from the commotion. I sat up enough to see shadows pass by from under the door, none hovering before mine for too long.
I went back to inspecting my injuries, yanking the sheet fully off my lower body. A patch of hair removed from my right leg let me know I was shaved for stitches or a surgery. As an angel I healed quickly, if doctors felt it necessary to fix me up then I was definitely worse for the wear and medical intervention was required to speed the process. The bald patch of skin showed no signs of trauma, it had to have been hours since the injury. Even the hair was budding from beneath my skin, slowly growing back. Flexing the muscles in my thighs and calves, I searched for signs of scarring or permanent damage. I found none. My body had healed completely except for my bandaged side. I still felt pain in that area.
A light knock on the door tensed my senses, I instantly regret sitting up, the hurt I felt in my side screamed within. A doctor entered in traditional white coat with slits cut into the back for his wings. His were a gray-white, aged in the many millennia of life. His hair, golden blond without a hint of gray, sat in a parted coif atop his head. This angel was never a warrior such as me. His battle was fought within the walls of this facility.
“Good to see you’re awake, Troy. I was actually beginning to worry. I’m Doctor Alexander, I oversaw your surgeries.”
“How long have I been here?” I asked.
The doctor checked my chart, flipping casually through the pages. “Almost a week.”
Again my body tensed, side sent in a shock of pain. “Impossible. I have not been away from the war for so long.”
The good doctor gave me a look of pity. “I apologize, Troy. You’re body was a mangled wreck when you came in. I had no choice but to schedule a series of intense surgeries to help you heal. Not to mention the demon venom you contracted. That took even longer to remove. You may feel the sting of it for the next few days, but within a month it will have all disappeared.”
Demon venom? He meant my side. I suddenly remembered the bite from the enormous slimy scaled beast. It nearly tore me in half. I took of its head, but not before it bit me. It was all beginning to make sense. The venom would have slowed my healing, poisoning my blood. In a matter of hours it should have killed me. Somehow I made it here in time.
“The girl, where is she?” I thought of the beauty that saved me. I never got her name.
“Girl? I’m sorry, I don’t know of any girl. Was she an archangel? Did you last see her during battle? If she was also injured she should be here.” Doctor Alexander shrugged, going over my chart once more.
“No, she was certainly not an archangel. I had never seen her before she saved me. The girl was the last one with me before I lost consciousness.” The words struggled from my mouth as I fought to prove I didn’t make her up in the heat of the moment, in a delusional state. My memory told me she was as real as I, yet I too questioned the validity of that.
“I will ask the nurses and the check-in desk if they remember a girl coming in around the time you were brought here. I can see how it is troubling you. Please lay back and relax, let your body finish pumping out that venom. Everything else looks like it’s in order, so I am going to let them discharge you in the morning. If I don’t return by then, you’ll know I didn’t find any information on your mystery girl. Good luck, Troy.” The doctor nodded once, patting the side of the bed closest to my right foot.
I slumped into the crunchy pillow when the door clicked shut. A plastic material prevented it from being comfortable. That was something I expected in mortal hospitals but not our own. I shifted onto my left side, forcing my nerves to deal with the pain. My thoughts were stuck on the girl, the angel who so fearlessly aided me during the middle of war. Who was she? How did she end up so far into the center of the battlegro
und without being injured? Well, for all I knew she hadn’t been injured.
The sterile room made me pine for the heat of the fight. I was never born to be stuck in a room, or indoors at all. From the beginning I was a warrior. In youth I grew to hate living the domesticated life. My father was head of the archangel militia. He would be gone the majority of the time and when he came home he was a hardened, distant, like a beast brought in from the wild. Oh, he loved us. It always showed in his hazel eyes, the ones he passed on to me. But he kept the distance, for us. My father kept our world safe and paid the price for it in his personal life. I wanted to be him, save the world and have a family that adored me, stood by me in good times and bad. I slept most
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