Bells Up (A Good Omens Fanfic)

Chapter 1

Gabriel's landing was the exact opposite of perfect and smooth since he all but crashed right through the thick barren oak branches, landing on his back straight into the brownish-blackish forest mud mixed with dry oak leaves.

It was already dark by the time of his crash landing and the sky was donning the veil of myriads of stars, occasional dark grey clouds and a barely visible sickle of the moon which was dimly lighting up the forest and the Archangel who had fallen in that very forest.

Gabriel's back was still bleeding where his wings had gotten cut off, his face and body were now scratched and bruised and his clothes, much like his ego, were torn far beyond repair, making him look like an average homeless person rather than an angel, except for his purple eyes which betrayed his supernatural origins.

Gabriel's vision was still blurred and the pain was still unbearable but he could see bits and pieces of the ash grey sky above, barely concealed with the branches of the old mighty oaks. The Archangel's body was emitting smoke, like he had been burnt, and burn marks began appearing on his skin in the form of blisters and red spots.

The Heavenly Messenger heard something heavy being hung on one of the lower branches of a nearby oak but his weakened condition didn't allow him to look what exactly was going on.

He couldn't even move a finger without gasping and groaning in pain and, even when he was lying still, every inch of his athletic, once handsome and healthy body felt like it was being stabbed, whipped, and burned at the same time.

Standing up or even looking around was out of the question for the time being. Those damned demons from the Basement would have laughed had they seen him in that miserable state, Gabriel was sure of that.

The wind was still howling ominously, picking up and swirling the falling leaves. It was cold, so cold that it could send shivers down the spine of anyone, including Gabriel, only in his case those shivers were mixed with excruciating pain and eventually fever, which he had never experienced before.

Angels are not supposed to get sick nor have fevers. Ever.

They are meant to be lean mean fighting machines while diseases and injuries are for those worthless cockroaches called humans, who are so inferior that, for Gabriel, recognizing them as fellow children of God was akin to an insult to any immortal in their right mind.

However, it was turning out that the loss of both wings was indeed possible and Gabriel had a very real chance of bleeding out and discorporating.

Unable to deal with the gravity of his plight, Gabriel closed his eyes and left whatever was going to happen to chance.

Suddenly, a faint sound reached his ears, and not just any sound, but music, as if someone was playing an instrument in the distance.

A trumpet, to be more specific.

That was the instrument Gabriel himself would play in his spare time, which was the majority of his average day, and he was known as the best trumpeter in all of Heaven.

The music was rather mediocre by the standards of the angels and especially by his ridiculously high standards, but he couldn't care less about that for music signified a presence of another being, most likely a human, somewhere in the forest.

In a stark contrast to the bleak and hopeless situation Gabriel had found himself in, the trumpet music was cheerful, uplifting, motivating, mischievous even. It was as if someone was trying to perk up the overall mood.

The fallen Archangel had no choice but to attract the attention of that person so as to avoid discorporation and the loss of more blood than his rapidly weakening body could handle.