Stories I Never Finished

Angelica

PROLOGUE

The crowd sung, beautiful melodies echoing from faithful lips that read the words from their songbooks. Words of Gods and angels radiating faith within the church walls as the priest stood up the front praising the Lord, choir boys sung in harmony as the sunlight streamed through painted glass windows depicting the Mother Mary and her divine child.

The singing stopped the moment a strange man opened the entrance doors to the Barcelona Church.

Heavy wooden doors with chipping red paint smacked shut behind him, closing as the man took precise steps in heavy black boots towards the altar at the front where the priest stood in confusion.

"Have you come to join us?" The priest asked in a calm tone of warmth, hands clasped politely together as he waited for an answer; all eyes on the newcomer dressed in a thick black coat.

"I can't say that I have." The stranger replied, dark blue eyes glistening as they stared back at the aged man. "Though it does feel a shame to interrupt such faithful songs."

He then chuckled. "It never ceases to amuse me how you humans act, pretending to believe just so then you can act as though you are not dirty, filthy creatures in love with the idea of sex and greed."

"I-... Excuse me?" The priest was appalled. "There's no reason to speak so crude."

"Don't worry. It's not like you'll live long enough to dwell on it." The stranger dropped his coat, thick woollen fabric hitting the floor only seconds before a pair of majestic black feathered wings spread from his back like an angel in flight.

Gasps echoed throughout the church, and the angel returned his gaze to the priest; bright white eyes glowing with malicious intent as he gave a wicked smile to the old man. "You dedicated your life to your God, and for that He thanks you."

From his hands protruded great swords of pure white, glowing with an angelic radiance that blinded all those who gazed upon it. The windows shattered, raining glass as blinding white light turned to red, blood splattering through screams that became silenced within hopeless seconds. An ear piercing ring bounced from the walls, sending shock waves of sound vibrations through the air that bled ears dry on those that lived long enough to hear the divine screech.

The footsteps seemed to become louder through the deathly silence, blood dripping from bodies and drooling down the edges of pews as they pooled into puddles of psychosis.

The angel approached the last surviving man, the one who had witnessed so many deaths before his own eyes. Two blades were held dripping red in the hands of the divine creature, blood splattered over his white clothes in contrast to his pitch-black wings as he came to stand in front of the trembling priest who lay on the floor; shocked by the white lights and breaking glass.

"Why...?" He looked up helplessly to the angel God had sent. "Why would you hurt us?"

"To thank you for your service." The angel raised one blade by his left hand. "You've done well."

The blade came crashing down through the priest's neck, one hard slash decapitating the old man with ease; sending his head rolling away from his limp body.

"And now you can rest..." The angel lowered his weapons, stained by the blood of the innocent. "Saved from the destruction that will come. You should thank your God for being so kind."

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CHAPTER ONE