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Dark Descent, Part
One
By PainAngel
Micah had never
liked the earth.
Well, that was not
entirely true. He liked the earth, he rejoiced at its creation. He loved
humans, those with God in their heart anyway, but the fact was that he hated to
visit it. It did not have the beauty of Heaven, his home, and he knew the risk
involved in him setting foot on earth.
Micah was an
angel, a member of the Heavenly Host since before Genesis. He was a proud
creature; his features were strong and defined, his face fair and soulful. His
long, wavy hair was blond. His Halo shone brightly and his wings were large and
beautiful.
He would never
admit it, but he deeply wished he was not a soldier angel. His strength and
skill with a sword led him to be conscripted, but secretly he would have
preferred the class of the Guardian angel. They never left Heaven, simply
offering advice to their human charge spiritually. But no, he was a soldier.
And here he was, on earth, wearing full angelic battle armour, clasping a sword
and ready to spring into action with the small band of angelic soldiers with
him.
The battle itself
was a skirmish. A group of demons had managed to transport themselves to the
surface and it was the angels’ task to ensure they did not cause chaos. As far
as he knew there were only five of them, but five demons were still more than a
large portion of the human race could handle.
The angels were
flying through what he knew was called the
He turned to
Darel, his long standing comrade and friend. They smiled at each other; it was
their trusted method of reassurance before a battle. Little did Micah know,
however, that this was the last such smile him and Darel would share.
Shouts from the
angelic troop sounded as the enemy was seen below. The intelligence had been
wrong-there were not five demons, there were twenty! Micah stared at them
intently. They were fierce, massive creatures. They had the shape of humans,
but were anything but.
On each demon was
clad a crude, black suit of armour. They were at least eight foot tall each;
the angels stood on average at a mere six foot. And they stared upwards at the
flying angels, producing an unholy battle call.
The battle began
immediately. The angels, outnumbered but still in good morale, swooped down on
the demons below, swords aiming for their jugulars. Each angel knew that you
could never kill a demon, simply send
him back to Hell. It worked similarly with angels depending on the way in which
they died. If they died with valour, they remained angels in Heaven, if they
died without it, they still returned to Heaven but were denied their wings.
It was not for a
few minutes that Micah finally looked around and realised how the battle was
turning. The angels were losing.
Darel was slain; once his wounds were healed in Heaven he would no doubt be
ready for action again. Several others were slain; Micah suddenly noticed with
a shudder that only he and two angels remained.
The other two
angels fought valiantly, but Micah watched in horror as they were killed. One
had his head sliced clean off, while the other was gutted by a demon’s black
sword.
When the demons
were finished with the other two, they surrounded him. The angels had not made
much of a dent-at least fifteen demons remained, although many were stained
with blood. Micah felt a short terror at being surrounded in such a way, but
his pain would be brief. He hated to die, it was often a painful procedure, but
there was no way he could tender his escape with the demons fencing him in.
They even towered over him so he could not escape with his wings.
One demon stepped
forward. He was Akzr, a huge warrior with a cruel mind. He smiled darkly as he
stood over Micah, brandishing his sword. Advancing towards Micah, he said “I
think I’ll chop you up,” nastily, before adding “slowly.” But as he raised his
sword, a strange thing happened. Micah closed his eyes, but no blade came. He
opened his eyes, looking up. Another demon was holding Akzr’s blade, stopping
it from falling on him.
Akzr stared
threateningly at the other demon. “What treachery is this?” The other demon
released the sword, looking back and grinning with a smile that made Micah’s
blood run cold. “Why should we kill him?” The demon asked. “We kill him, no
matter how painfully and he ends up in Heaven again.”
Azkr nodded
slowly, sensing what the other demon was getting at. “I see what you mean. We
have had our visit to the surface world. Why don’t we take a souvenir with us?”
He signalled to
some other demons. They produced dark iron chains and bound his hands and feet.
They dragged him up so that he was facing Azkr. Azkr promptly spat in his face,
laughing darkly. “You’re coming with us, angel. All the way down!”
Micah stared up in
horror as he realised what this meant. Going to Hell? He was going to Hell? He’d heard stories, but
it had never happened to anyone he knew. He began to stutter “P-please, don’t
take me down there!” But the demons were too busy laughing to listen.
One demon said
something he couldn’t hear, and a red vortex appeared in the ground. He felt
himself being thrown in and blacked out as the fear consumed him.
When he woke,
Micah felt himself chained to a slab of rock. His hands were chained. His legs
were chained. His wings and shoulders were chained. In fact, he was completely
unable to move.
Staring at him
were demons. Many demons. Hundreds, in fact. But even worse; he was in Hell! He
stared around him. There was ash, smoke and brimstone everywhere, and the sky
(was it a sky?) was jet black. Evil creatures flew around and he saw the
tormented bodies of humans everywhere. He saw evil eyes in every direction;
there really was no good thing about Hell.
From the crowd of
demons came a voice. One demon was perched on a stand. He was monstrous;
looking over 9ft tall and wearing a cape with his armour. The voice bellowed
“Welcome to Hell, celestial one!” The voice was an arrogant bellow. “You may as
well make yourself at home. You’re going to be here a while!”
Micah cowered,
unable to believe the horror that had befallen him. He felt tears down his face
as he called out a plea to his demonic captors. “Please...let me ascend...” but
his pleas were met with cruel laughter. One angel walked over to him and struck
him hard, Micah feeling blood pour out of his mouth. The demon told him harshly
to shut up before joining the ranks of the others.
The large demon,
evidently some kind of general, continued to speak. “You have been brought here
to provide morale for my soldiers. I do hope you are as entertaining as you
look!”
The demons eagerly
moved forward while the general continued. “When I say go, I’ll be letting you
into the mercy of my army. And I assure you, they have none. Men? Be-“
But he stopped
short. The demons, once primed and eager to tear Micah apart, were now turning
around. Cowering, Micah turned to the source of the demons’ fear.
Around a hundred
yards away, there was a rocky cliff. On it was a cave. It would not have been
particularly impressive, especially in the backdrop of Hell, except for the
figure standing at the end of it.
It was a woman. A
female, at least, with a bone pale complexion and a dark aura surrounding her.
Her hair was jet black. Her body beautiful, but angels had been taught to
resist such temptations.
She was barely
clothed, and the few remaining items she did have on (namely, a bra and a
thong) appeared forged in a cruel design. From what Micah could tell, she was
roughly the size of him. But to look in her eyes, even a hundred yards away,
gave him a chill. She was smiling, but it was a smile without warmth. It was a
smile of hunger.
“Ursula!” Cried
the demons in a harsh whisper of fear. Whoever Ursula was, the fear she
inspired was tremendous.
As quick as a
flash, Ursula had flown (using demonic wings that sprouted from her back then
retracted themselves) from the plateau to where Micah was standing. She gave
him a long look, deeply unsettling the angel, before turning to the demons.
“Where did your
men pick this one from, Moac?” She addressed the large general demon who was
speaking to Micah. The demon smirked before answering “we captured him on the
surface.” Ursula, whose voice was as dark as the aura surrounding her, turned
back to Michah and stroked his face. He recoiled. She turned back to Moac. “Is
he tainted?” The demon shook his head, before responding “but he’s about to
be.”
The demons, still
afraid by Ursula, began to cheer at this. Ursula spun around to glare at them,
and instantly they piped down. “I’m taking this one. Have his chains detached
from that rock and handed to me.”
Moac responded in
rage. “On what authority?” He spat. “Satan may believe you to be a greater
force, but I am not so fooled. This winged creature was captured by my soldiers
and is a gift to my soldiers!” The demons, uneasy, began to cheer for Moac.
Ursula responded
with a smirk, surging towards Moac and producing a coin from nowhere. “Then
there is only one way to settle this. And I am heads.” Moac looked sceptical
while Ursula spoke. “If I win, the angel is mine.” Moac smirked. “And if you
lose?” Ursula let out a low laugh “I will never again leave my cave.”
After Moac had
agreed this, the coin was flipped. Ursula, unbeknownst to Moac, had used magic
to influence the coin’s outcome, and thus it landed on heads. Moac,
disappointed, had one of the demons unchain Micah from the rock.
Ursula looked into
Michah’s eyes as she took his chains, her smile one of triumph. “Come on,
angel.” She hissed softly but menacingly, “it’s playtime.”
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