A Fallen Star Canto #3 TKB
The Angel Who Came To Stop Me
When I opened up my eyes, I saw before me life in utter demise. The blackness lay thick and thin, varied upon each a deadly sin within, a clear view of The Great Divide before the seven rings of sin. I was atop a mountain like cliff just then. Here below I saw my sullen track, a shadow wrought upon bones of dreary black. Here was the stairway down to the first ring of sin and then deeper still it went again.
“Below you must make your way. Through the darkened, never ending pain filled wretched fray. This is the entrance to the place that will take you eventually to your Fallen Star, but listen well and go not far, at least not yet. For I have a gift that you must get. I will not leave, but remain, to see your story, although insane, flourish or die. I give you my powers both holy and unholy, and with them my shifting blade, that sheers through the soul, here I will remain inside you so very near. If truly in your heart so full of cheer, you do so love that Fallen Star so dear, then grab my blade and let your mortal blood run down its sheer.”
And so I grabbed his scythe’s blade with my bare unclean palm. Grasping hard, it did not take long, before the blood ran down it slow and calm. That hole which once by her was filled, now overcome with something that was null, then spilled. Both connected and interchanged, blood filled anger, loving kisses and rain, soft touch, and hard bone. Where forever and never came home. Here upon this mortal flesh, the blade transformed and was in my hands, a simple but sharpened thresh. A small scythe upon a chain.
Before I could begin my forays. There came a pillar of Godly light. Shining down from above so bright, overflowing with holy white rays.
Here I saw an angel come down on clouds from heaven quick, an angelic being with wings befit — a Godly being of lore. What’s more, a full suit of armor he wore, brazen with the holy cross that Christ once bore, upon his back to his untimely death, to be reborn. A great key to The Bottomless Pit the Angel wore. His hair was white as snow, and his eyes blazed with a great white fire as he descended into The Great Below.
“Grace and peace be yours from God! I know your works, and where you feel you must trod, to The Great Below — to Satan’s seat you head! Here in the red planes of dust, in the lake of fire with the lost and tattered you go, to fill your blade with the souls — souls of the dearly departed and the dead. I will not allow you to continue this day, or even on the morrow. Come with me to the Holy City! Bring your soul, and your flesh, and here God shall wipe away your tears, and there will be no more sorrow! There will be no more unrest! Only peace and tranquility.”
Upon this crazy and brazened event — I did not say a word for an entire minute — I instead, shook my head and turned away. A fading reminder of who I used to be. I was making my own path, my own way. I closed my eyes and saw my reflection and then flashed my Fallen Star’s — smiling back at me.
“Angel of Heaven. There can be no peace without my Fallen Star. You will not stop me this day or in seven. If you do dare to try — expect more than a mere scar.” Here my resolve hardened past belief, determination layered with immense grief. And Death spoke once again, but this time inside my head.
This foolish angel has made a mistake that will make your trip, once hard, now taken with a little bit more ease. He has the key! The key to The Great Below, The Abyss beneath our feet. I am as much a part of you, as you are of me, and I prefer simple and a breeze. Now if you would please?
An unholy fire within my heart of hearts rose swiftly. This fire inside was hotter than the lake of sulfur’s deepest trench, burning profoundly into the marrow of my bones and then slowly it radiated within me. The Angel must have ascertained the change happening — for he leapt off quickly into the air, an attempt to return back to his Heaven, and to his God’s loving care. His threat to stop me was now barren.
I turned around, rearing back to swing and felt within me form and rise, an unholy demise, a swift thrust of my blade, slicing its way to sear and fray — an Angel of Heaven’s wings away.
My Fallen Star had saw inside of me, what was truly my soul — my shattered heart. She picked up each piece of debris, each sharp broken part, and put me back together with a decree. I was broken glass, which was never meant to last. But she! She loved every single inch of me.
Here I was… standing over a perfect Godly being, meant to live for eternity, and all seeing. The first and the last. Now such a stark melancholy contrast.
“You are no mere human, to have taken in both dark and light, this I can see luridly now. You will not rest — no not even for God will you bow. Even at your best, you shall fail. And forever stay to be tortured in these depths of Hell! The Never Ending Night.
I took his key from where he laid, and looking into his silver eyes, absolved him with my blade. Here the Angel who came to stop me returned not to Heaven, but unto Death’s blade, which was now truly mine to save or lay waste.