Uriel swung his sword towards him -- except that it wasn't at him, missing him entirely. For a moment Michael wondered about this; had Uriel lost his skills completely? He used to be a good warrior in his own right, after all.
Then, however, Uriel's swords struck something. It wasn't him, yet he felt it, a tearing pain not in his body but his very essence, what human might have called their soul.
It was pain like nothing he'd ever encountered before; nothing in the numerous battles he'd participated in could have prepared him for this. It was like his heart had been torn away, twisted, and then torn apart while he could do nothing but stare helplessly. And, suddenly, he felt empty.
So very empty.
He was an angel, one of the first beings to ever come to be. His whole existence he had basked in His Presence, sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker, but always there, always a part of him. And now it was gone, gone, and along with it a part of him was gone, too. He could feel nothing but pain, hear nothing but his own scream, dropping his sword and falling to his knees. Somebody could have killed him right then and there and he wouldn't have cared; no, he would have thanked them for making the pain stop.
He clutched his arms and suddenly claws formed, sinking into his flesh, but he didn't even feel the pain over that of the Fall itself. He bit his lip and found that his newly formed fangs were more than well capable of sinking through it. He didn't care.
There was a fire burning inside him, taking away every bit of Presence in him, every good thing he'd ever felt suddenly torn from him until all he could remember, all he could feel was pain. And emptiness, a horrible emptiness where previously had been warmth, a reassuring power telling him that he was safe, he wasn't alone, everything was going to be all right.
Now he knew that everything was not going to be all right. Nothing was going to be all right. Not ever again.
He was alone, and he was empty, and it hurt, hurt, hurt...
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-02-26 10:24 am (UTC)Then, however, Uriel's swords struck something. It wasn't him, yet he felt it, a tearing pain not in his body but his very essence, what human might have called their soul.
It was pain like nothing he'd ever encountered before; nothing in the numerous battles he'd participated in could have prepared him for this. It was like his heart had been torn away, twisted, and then torn apart while he could do nothing but stare helplessly. And, suddenly, he felt empty.
So very empty.
He was an angel, one of the first beings to ever come to be. His whole existence he had basked in His Presence, sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker, but always there, always a part of him. And now it was gone, gone, and along with it a part of him was gone, too. He could feel nothing but pain, hear nothing but his own scream, dropping his sword and falling to his knees. Somebody could have killed him right then and there and he wouldn't have cared; no, he would have thanked them for making the pain stop.
He clutched his arms and suddenly claws formed, sinking into his flesh, but he didn't even feel the pain over that of the Fall itself. He bit his lip and found that his newly formed fangs were more than well capable of sinking through it. He didn't care.
There was a fire burning inside him, taking away every bit of Presence in him, every good thing he'd ever felt suddenly torn from him until all he could remember, all he could feel was pain. And emptiness, a horrible emptiness where previously had been warmth, a reassuring power telling him that he was safe, he wasn't alone, everything was going to be all right.
Now he knew that everything was not going to be all right. Nothing was going to be all right. Not ever again.
He was alone, and he was empty, and it hurt, hurt, hurt...