Angel of Death: the War

The War

"He's got to die," Azrael whispered. He was stuck in a crushed building near the foundation with another messenger. "Cassiel, can you hear me?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Azrael," he hissed back. "You'll get us killed." A light passed through a crack above them. Azrael closed his eyes, praying that the Apollyon missed him and Cassiel.

"Cassiel?" a voice called from above. "Is that you?"

"Gabriel," Cassiel beamed. "I'm stuck under a stone."

"Alright, we'll get you out," Gabriel responded. "Who are you with?"

"Azrael." Cassiel's voice was laced with disgust.

"Oh. Hello, Azrael," Gabriel greeted haphazardly.

"Hi, Gabriel." Azrael crouched lower. Gabriel was one of the seven archangels. So were Cassiel, Raphael, Aniel, Mihalo, Samiel and Sachiel the twins. They were known to look down on the angels as they were obviously more powerful.

The boulder flew from above them, releasing Cassiel from his stony prison. "Thanks, Gabe."

Azrael slowly climbed out behind Cassiel, looking at the archangels. All of them looked like Gods, their wings folded behind them and their armour a deep blue. Azrael casted his eyes down in respect although somewhat reluctantly.

"How in God's name did you get out here, Azrael? This is not your war," Raphael scolded. Azrael continued staring at the floor. He couldn't answer. Not yet.

"Speak," Raphael commanded.

"I--" he almost choked on his words. He turned red in embarrassment. "I wanted to... fight with you and the others."

"Hey Sachiel," Samiel called. "He's turning red just like his hair!"

Sachiel laughed and punched Samiel. "Actually, I think he likes you, bro."

"Go back to the East," Mihalo directed softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He is known as the kindest of the archangels.

"Yes," Azrael replied. He was about to take flight, his orange-red wings spreading quickly-- a whirring scream sounded and the sky was lit brightly.

"Mihalo!" Gabriel called. Azrael felt a harsh sting of pain on his cheek, and then his eyesight went black.

The Reckoning

"Azrael," Mihalo whispered in his ear. "Azrael, wake up."

Evangeline wiped a cold rag across his forehead. "Darling, wake up."

Azrael could hear them, but he couldn't respond. He was stuck staring at the Throne of the Creator in his dreams. The light from the Creator was blocked by Tyrus. Tyrus shone a gloomy red with an evil animalistic grin on his face. The Apollyon stood to the side, their armour huge and ugly. They were giants compared to many angels and virtues. Azrael was shaking as the Creator spoke.

"You've made yourself a monster, Tyrus," the Creator bellowed. "I will destroy you. Eventually. As of now, you and your minions are banished from Zion. The Angel of Death will be the end of you. Leave, now!"

Tyrus walked towards Azrael, his jewel coloured eyes looking through him. Tyrus passed him, staring him down as he did and left through one of the twelve pearl gates. Azrael watched as he fell from the edge of the golden glassy streets which ended outside Zion. Looking back towards the Creator, but not directly, Azrael noticed other angels staring at him.

"Azrael," The Creator spoke smoothly. "You are young, yet you have the heart of a warrior. But, in you I have created a power beyond what I would have liked to place in an angel. You will become the eighth archangel."

Azrael's eyes widened as the other angels and virtues whispered.

"Azrael! Please wake up!" Zipporah screamed. Azrael's eyes flew open. His mouth tasted of sand. He swallowed painfully. His skinny chest heaved over in pain, now that he was aware of it.

"Water," he whispered hoarsely. Persephone handed Zipporah a cup of water. It sparkled brightly as it dribbled from his lips. He could barely open his mouth.

"Careful, Azrael," Evangeline said. "Your jaw was broken by an Apollyon."

Azrael squeezed his eyes closed, tears of the pain falling from his eyes. Zipporah placed a pen in his hand and a paper beside him. Azrael reached over and wrote slowly and weakly.

"'Where's Mihalo?'" Zipporah read aloud. "He left about a day ago, Azrael." Azrael scribbled again on the paper sloppily.

"'Why?'" Zipporah sighed sadly. "The archangels went to speak with Adom and Chava. The Creator is sending Tyrus to Gaia."

Azrael's eyes widened.

"To test the humans," Persephone added quickly. Azrael relaxed, lying back down. Everything would be okay. The war was almost over and Tyrus and the Apollyon would soon be gone. His eyes fluttered close, but as soon as they shut, the scene played again.