The Angel Prophecy (original)

19) MICHAEL

Michael:
(600 years ago)

Guilt. Fear. Regret. Jealousy. Anger. All things I felt as I stood outside her door. For everything I'm about to do. For everything I've done. For everything I want.

I shouldn't do it.

Not if this goes wrong and they can't heal me.

But I can't live like this any longer. I can't be afraid of myself any longer. I can't be jealous any longer. Especially after what I did to Azazel the other day.

I knocked on the rickety wooden door infront of me. Behind it lived a gypsie. A human with magical powers. Some might even say a witch. I had come here under orders to kill her. She had committed a terrible crime against the magic world.

But I came here for my own personal reasons too. She could cure me. She was the only one who could.

"Michael." The lady croaked. She was dressed head to toe in a deep purple. Her dress quite fitting to the current European trends. But over her head she wore a matching purple scarf decorated with thin metal coins and beads that represented her true Indian lineage. She lived on her own, shunned from her home in India and banished from the early eighteenth century British empire, on a desolate island in the Mediterranean. The Greek locals were afraid of her, but also believed she was some sort of oracle, a connection to the Gods, and often asked for her help. Just like I am about to. Although their questions are centered more around the fact of a healthy harvest season.

"Hello Sada."

"You should not be here. Aναζητάτε κακά πράγματα."  She threatens. (you seek bad things)

"Either way you must die." I ignore her threat. "You would not get in trouble for it."

"I am old and grey. I will die anyways." She tries to defend herself, "But I see my time is up. Come in."

I duck my head and step into the clay shack. Inside was dark and musty. The only light coming from the cracks in the closed shutters. The ceiling was littered with different herbs and plants, the shelves were straining under the weight of books, pots, and vials filled with mysterious substances. In the back corner was a small cot with one worn quilt that has very obviously been a lot of places and one pillow. In the middle of the room was a large wooden table, strewn with more of the same herbs, some ground some whole, an open book, and lots of unlit candles. In front of the table was a large, empty black caldron over a dead fire.

I watch as the old witch gathers various items, including a hair from my own head and throws them into the pot. Murming in latin about how dangerous this was.

She stops beside her now boiling pot of nasty smelling things. "There is no going back."

"I can't live like this anymore."

Her beady eyes stared into my soul for a long moment before she motioned for me to move out of her doorway and stand infront of the foul smelling beast before her. Then she spoke, her voice ringing throughout the room in a hoarse whisper, in a language not even I could understand.

"Slightabdo ajgoena
flisha moreate angkedo
begloansh gandorale besona
estangdo gaolr troquenag nol..
ipmesalo prolegna
notrspa ik labonsta idnas
truwsk quendarla opllor ree!"

Her hands stopped swirling over the pot. The fire underneath the caldron went out in a chilling gust of wind. I glanced warily at the contents inside. The strange bright red liquid appeared to be swirling with life. Sada gingerly ladelled some into a lumpy clay cup. She then handed it over to me from across the caldron, and quickly, without thinking or tasting, I downed it.

"You know what happens now." I said, setting the cup down on her table, not yet feeling its effects.

"No you must wait! If you do bad things it will not work properly! You must rest!" She exclaimed fearfully.

"I cannot ignore my duties." I replied dully, my eyes flashing gold, as I shoved my hand through her chest grabbing her heart and ripping it out of her chest. She gasped loudly, clutching the left side of her chest, blood gushing through her hands, as she collasped to her knees. Moments later she fell down lifelessly, face first, to the floor.

Not worrying about my brother finding this mess, knowing that he is stuck in Hell, I leave her where she is and head down south to my next mission: Finding Apollo. He was under arrest for improper distribution of disease, but he was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, somewhere over the southern Atlantic Ocean my chest sinched in pain. As the pain got increasingly worse, I decided to land on the closest island. I stumbled to the ground, looking for anyone who could possibly help me. But I was all alone. I collasped under the shade of a tropical tree, breathing heavily through my wavering consciousness. And only just before I blacked out did I register the witch's last words.

"Μας καταδίκασε όλους."

You have doomed us all.

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🤭

Oh my lord

I just shocked yal to the core didn't I?

What did Michael do??

You'll just have to keep reading to find out...

ALSO WOOOOOO DOUBLE UPDATE

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~Ez