The Fallen

Thousands of years ago, a weapon was created by Satan himself to put an end to Heaven and everyone within; including God. After many attempts, Satan realized even he wasn't powerful enough to create such a thing. So he was left with his final attempt, a much less useful weapon; the Jewel. The Jewel was much like a nuclear bomb, except it only destroyed what was not human; Devils, Angels, the Fallen, all spiritual creatures, and all spiritual buildings within a hundred mile radius. Nathaniel Elway, as well as others, are sent by the Angels to retrieve the Jewel and finally put an end to the Fallen.

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2. ONE

Sirens wailed, waking Nathaniel from his sleep.

     “Get up, Nathaniel.”

    Nathan sat up, waves of exhaustion coming over him like tsunamis. He felt as if he hadn’t slept in years. Sharp pains stabbed his head. What time was it?

    “Nathaniel. Get up.”

    Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood abruptly, trying not to stumble or lose his balance. Looking at the other four beds, he noticed Cason, Diego, and Aiden were already gone.

    Instead, Jay stood in the doorway of his bedroom, looking the same as ever; silver hair standing tall, piercing eyes the color of diamonds, a white lab coat, a black shirt underneath, grey slacks, black shoes, and a tight mouth that never cracked a smile.

     “What are you just looking at me for?” Jay demanded loudly. “Do you not hear the sirens? Get your things, boy. They’re back.”

     As Jay began to exit the room, Nathaniel grabbed a shirt and shoes and pulled them on. Exiting the room, he caught a glimpse of his reflection which made him stop dead in his tracks for only a second. His hair was getting longer; it practically hung over his crystal blue eyes now. He really looked as tired as he felt. Bags hung under his eyes, his skin pale… He looked high. Sweeping the dark hair out of his face swiftly, he bolt from his bedroom.

    Maneuvering through the rushed crowd, he sprinted down the halls. Nathaniel knew by “things,” Jay did not mean personal possessions or luggage or belongings. No. He meant weapons. His bow and knives.

    Bursting into the weapons room, he pushed through the crowd of Angels and began grabbing at weapons. A dagger at each hip and a quiver over his shoulder, bow in hand. Unfortunately he was only allowed to fight from afar; the daggers were just in case he was snuck up on. He couldn’t fight hand-to-hand combat with all the other Angels until he was nineteen. One more year.

    Seeing all the others his age leaving, he quickly followed behind.

    The Fallen were relentless. Every month or so they tried to attack; each time resulting in failure. But they didn’t give up. Why they had started attacking a few years ago, no one really knew. Because of the constant battles, the Angels started going after the freshly Fallen so that no more bodies could be added to the enemy’s numbers. Those captured were kept in cells. Strangely, Nathaniel almost pitied them. He felt bad for the Fallen Demons anyway, not so much the Fallen Angels.

    Fallen Demons were kicked from Hell when they refused to compute to the rules of the Underworld. The Underworld’s rules were cruel and horrible, forcing every Demon to be completely and utterly evil. So when a Demon would Fall, that usually meant the Demon didn’t agree with the horrible rules, therefore being good rather than evil. Those Fallen he pitied. They didn’t deserve to be locked up for being pure.

    But Fallen Angels were the opposite. They were kicked from the Heavenly Palace when they wouldn’t commute to the rules of Heaven, which were good rules; pure rules. Fallen Angels were usually corrupt and evil. Those Fallen he didn’t pity. They did deserve to be locked up.

    “Line up!” a loud, manly voice ordered.

    Nathaniel skidded to a stop, realizing they were at their destination; the top floor. The half-circle of a roof was made from a material that resembled glass, but was much more complex. From the outside, it was nearly indestructible, but anything could go through from the inside. It was also perfectly clear; hardly visible at all.

    Fallen flew all around, throwing grenades and knives, screaming and fighting the few Angels that had left the Heavenly Palace to defend.

    There was nothing abnormal looking about the Fallen. No horns, no hooved feet, nothing weird. Some purposefully grew out their nails and made them into claws, but that was the only sketchy thing. They looked like ordinary humans with grey wings. All of the Fallen had grey wings. Black wings were for the demons, white for the Angels.

    “Draw your bows!” the man shouted.

    Remaining in his crouched position, Nathaniel pulled an arrow from his quiver and drew his bow. He aimed for a Fallen flying around in the sky, not letting it out of his sight. He had always been good with a bow.

    “NOW!”

   Releasing the arrow, he immediately drew another. The enemy began dropping like flies. Realizing what was happening, they instantly began attacking the glass-like force field that was protecting Nathaniel and his fellow Angels. He could see the panic in the eyes of those around them, especially Aiden; a roommate of his who hated battle.

    “Retreat!” the older Angel, who always stayed with them during battles like this, screamed. “They’re breaking down the force field! I don’t know how much more it can take!” Making a bolt for the staircase, he grabbed a boy’s arm and urged everyone to follow swiftly.

    Determined as always, Nathaniel shot a few more arrows before sprinting across the room for the stairs as quickly as possible. Just as he made it halfway down, a large explosion-like sound told him the force field was destroyed.

    Sharp nails clawed at his back and arms, trying to grasp a hold. With terror stricken faces, the Angels below him grabbed for him and tried to yank him down the staircase the rest of the way. But one of the creatures got a really good hold on his arm with its nails, keeping him from making it to safety.

    Feeling the nails cut through his skin, he let out a guttering yell of pain. Suddenly Diego, another one of his roommates, grabbed a dagger and sliced the wrist of the Fallen, severing the hand clean off. As soon as he’d done so, he pulled Nathaniel down the stairs and slammed the stone door shut behind them.

    “Thanks, man,” muttered Nathaniel through gritted teeth, holding his gushing wound.

    “Get him to the medic,” Diego ordered someone before sprinting after the rest of the Angels.

    “Nathan!” a voice shouted faintly. He recognized it as his best friend Cason immediately. “Hang in there, buddy…”

   Nathan’s vision faded in and out of focus. It was so hard to stay upright. He was losing a lot of blood. Arms grabbed at his sides, trying to keep him from collapsing.

     His vision went dark.

 

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