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His wings are gone, taken by the same force that obliterated my brethren. He doesnt cry, doesnt fight. He neither seeks reason or redemption, making me pause with disinterested curiosity- I wont forgive him, but I confess that I wish to know if he will ask for it.
"Hey Azzy." he says weakly. The loss of one's wings is a painful experience, but Ive suffered worse at their hands.
"Raphael" I say, half mockingly in greeting.
"I guess the prophecy came true after all..."
"In a way, I assume you are correct." I say, not willing to request anything of the pitiful sight before me.
"So I guess you're here to kill me?"
I debate with myself. Their death was a means to an end, vengence. But after they were gone, I'd still be here- and they'd be free. Free to torment me with the knowledge they had gone where I am not allowed to tread.
"I am here for vengeance. You do not deserve the Gift of Death, or the peace it would bring you disgusting creatures." I say, my rage growing as I think on his actions, for he is one of the major reasons 'She' is no longer here.
"What... do you mean?" he asks, his eyes finally showing fear. Perhaps he thought I was merciful to those who destroyed the previous me?
"There is a saying among mortals, Raphael. The punishment must fit the crime. You enjoyed your free will long enough- and those wings and appendages will be of no use to me."
My meaning begins to take form in his mind, I see it in his eyes. He recognizes his error, but Denys the sight before him.
My scythe raised high, I tell him the 'good news'.
"Welcome to Eternal Life, Raphael. I promise you, it will be hell."
When I am done my butchery, I bring forth my siblings flesh. His mind dead, his soul alive and in torture of his cage, it screams for release, cursing all creatures for not rescuing it. Before me stands the first Reaver, an anaglam of the horsemen, living, breathing by my will alone. I kill insanity in the soul, forcing it to realize its torture. Once such a sight would've sickened me, but no more.
The Reaver shambles behind me as I walk toward Micheal's castle in the distance. His Army is formidable, Superior to any fighter save Micheal, and myself. However, I mount my steed once more, calling to the dead, the forgotten. They rise at my call, an undying army of Rot, a blight upon life itself.
My Shadow stretches behind me, clothing this land in Darkness and Hate. Once a world of peace and light, eternal happiness, it is draped in gloom.
This is My Kingdom now.
I am Azrael, Angel of Death.
I am Azrael, the Reaper Grim.
I am Death, Reaper of Angels.
And I am coming for you Micheal, dont doubt it.
 Azzy Rael · Sat Aug 29, 2009 @ 03:19am · 0 Comments |
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