The angel's name was Skye.
Blonde hair gave in to tangles as the prior holy being plummeted towards the Earth's surface. Wings shadowed and not working, Skye gritted her teeth and closed her blue eyes as she prepared to hit the ground below. And hit the ground she did; hard too. To be a being without death but with pain is a fate crueler than most people wish to think about.
Going from black and blue to mostly healed in a few seconds, Skye opened her eyes and peeked around where she had landed. Green met her blue; she came to the conclusion she had landed in the middle of a forest. Probably remote, due to the heavens not wanting to attract any humans' attention. With a groan, the angel gathered herself and then stood up. She was definitely in a forest; trees of emerald surrounded her and she could hear birds chirping all around. Besides the creatures of the forest, Skye appeared to be alone.
And once she came to that conclusion, she let out a long, massive wail. Tears bubbled up and then poured down, ugly sobs racked through her tall body as she stomped her feet in defiant protest. Her black wings remained limp as she continued with her panicked anguish. In the middle of another whimper, Skye froze as she heard a twig snap. The angel wiped her eyes with her pure white dress to gather her vision again, and then slowly, with painstaking care, turned around. Her pupils almost became pin-prick slits when she realized that whatever had made that sound had changed position; she saw no being behind her.
"Boo," she heard as she felt breath against her ear, which she met with a scream. Skye attempted to jump out of fear, but her dead wings denied her, and the angel stumbled and fell to the ground. She heard footsteps, indicated by the crackling of the leaves, until standing over her was a being she was taught to most fear: a demon. This unholy being was surprisingly short, with pale skin and long, brown hair with matching eyes. It appeared to be female, with luscious breasts almost pouring out over her black leather corset. She was wearing makeup, a concept foreign and forbidden to Skye, whose face was only painted with dirt from the ground.
The demon licked her red lipstick lips and flashed a grin that sent a shiver down Skye's spine; the fangs frightened her. Her adversary cackled. "Well, well, well..." the evil being cooed. "What have we here?" She snapped her fingers, and another, identical demon appeared out of a cloud of smoke. The only difference between them was the color of the corsets - the original wore a black leather corset with red accents while the twin wore the same but with purple. Skye's fear could not hide her blushing; she felt a small drop appear between her legs as the twin demon jumped up and down, her cream white breasts accompanying her for the ride.
It was this demon's turn to taunt. "I believe we have ourselves a fallen angel, a fallen angel!" she cried and followed it with a piercing laugh that made the angel in question's heart fall into the pit of her stomach. The twin snapped her fingers, and yet another, a triplet, appeared in a puff of smoke. She wore the same as the others, except her accents were green like the forest surrounding them.