The Fallen

Chapter 13

It had always been this way.

I was always surrounded by angels.

After the fall, as Lucifer was banished to Hell, I wandered the earth alone. I remembered the fear and loneliness as if I had experienced them yesterday, trudging up the hills of a deserted planet, walking alone with no idea who I was, where I was, or what that sinking feeling at the bottom of my stomach meant. Even without remembering him, even without knowing who he was, I had missed him dearly.

Soon after, or perhaps centuries later, earth started gaining inhabitants . I didn't know it at the time, but as it turned out, God had created another wife for Adam. Together, they defied the one rule in Heaven: do not disobey The Throne.

As life went on, and I could no longer wander aimlessly with the rise of new societies, empires, countries, things changed.
Angels came, and they never left. Every couple of decades, they would plant new memories in my head, giving me a new name, a new life, a new story. They would pose as my parents, siblings, classmates, and coworkers, always watching me, keeping me in the dark.

A pounding headache started forming behind my eyes with every new memory unlocked, the pain too much to handle with a sword still pointed at my neck. I winced, vaguely aware of the tears running down my face. It was all too much for me to handle, and for the billionth time that night, I wished Lucifer was here to help me through it.

“Don't worry,” Michael said, and his voice made me flinch. “Soon, all of those memories will be gone, and the pain will go with them.”

“I don't want to forget.” I shook my head, my whispered words followed by a broken sob that tore itself out of my heavy heart.

“I'm afraid we don't have a choice.” Michael sounded solemn. It irked me, knowing that God's number one soldier, his right hand, had the audacity to sound torn about this. He had always been a stickler for the rules. Whatever The Throne said was to be followed blindly, no matter the consequences.

I lifted my head, turning to glare at him over my shoulder. “I made my choice, and I have been punished for it for a millennia.”

The angel beside me growled, his sword hovering over my flesh hungrily. “You chose the devil. What a choice that was.”

“What do you know about him? I seethed, turning to face him.

“I know he's a traitor. He abandoned us, left the angels behind. Deserted us for earthly pleasures.” I didn't know his name, and I didn't care to, but I really wanted to cuss him out.

“His only crime was loving me.” I lifted my chin, maintaining my glare. I wasn't afraid of him, I wasn't afraid of any of them. My only concern was Lucifer. “He fell in love! That's not a crime. He loved me, and I loved him, and we wanted to be together, but God forbid anyone loves anything more than The Throne. A jealous God indeed, and for what? We never disobeyed him. We never broke his rules. And yet, he replaced me in days and threw Lucifer in Hell. Have you any idea what that place is like? What those souls sound like every second of every day? The pain and the misery he has to endure only for humanity to vilify him as if he asked for any of this? God’s brightest angel, his morningstar, thrown into a pit of darkness and despair, surrounded by fire and ice for all of eternity.”

I was heaving, my breaths short and painful. It felt like an iron fist was closed around my heart, squeezing endlessly. The angel continued to glare at me, pushing his sword unto my flesh every once in a while as if to remind me who had the power between us. But I didn't care. It was a little too late now to be afraid. Soon, I would lose my memories all over again, and I would forget him once more.

I would rather die.

“Let's get this over with.” Michael turned away from me, as if my words fell on deaf ears, as if I was nothing but a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. It didn't surprise me. They may call each other brother, but the angels weren't created equals. They did not truly believe they were siblings, at least, Michael didn't. To them, nothing came before or after The Throne. Nothing else mattered, so seeing your ‘brother’ suffering as a result of a cruel curse didn't move them much.
He walked back to the streetlight, standing under the yellow glow. The others flanked him, and the one beside me pushed me forward, making me follow. I struggled to swallow, the lump in my throat growing with every step I took towards my inevitable destiny. In my head, I cursed Azazel for betraying me, Michael, for doing this to me and angels for ruining my life. I cursed The Throne for creating me, for planting the seed of love in my heart only to yank away the fruit like it was poisonous. But mostly, I cursed myself. If I hadn't left Lucifer’s room, if I hadn't followed Azazel blindly, none of this would be happening.