ANGEL FALL I

Battle for Her Hand

Lucien couldn’t believe his ears.

“You said what?” he asked, eager to hear it again.

In front of him stood three strong men. One wore a robe with adorned with golden embroidery and gold Bangles. He stood at the center of the others, the one on his right wearing a similar but simpler robe. Meanwhile the other wore a hooded cloak.

“We don’t want to repeat ourselves, Lucien” said the Gold-robed man. “Do you accept our proposal or not?”

Lucien grinned maliciously and crossed a leg over the other.

“It’s not every day my realm is graced by such…celebrities,” Lucien said with a dramatic wave of his hand. “So you can’t blame me for being a little excited”.

The man on the right hissed in disgust and said to the one in the gold robe, “We shouldn’t be here, Caspar. We’re making a deal with the de—”

The one called Caspar raised his hand, silencing his companion.

Caspar then turned to Lucien.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Now you’re talking”, Lucien said with another grin, his eyes gleaming with wicked delight.

Then leaning forward he added slowly, “ I will keep the girl”.

“The audacity!” started the man on Caspar’s right. Meanwhile the one on his left remained silent, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts.

Again Caspar raise his hand to silence the other.

Then turning back to Lucien he nodded grimly as he said, “Agreed”.

Surprise flashed across lucien's face for a second before he laughed.

“You must really want this girl then” he said. “Maybe I should add a little something for my demands”.

The hooded man, finally spoke, his voice laced with impatience and irritation. “Do not test our patience, Lucien. The girl is vital to our plans."

Lucien's laughter filled the chamber, a chilling sound that seemed to echo off unseen walls. "Why so serious, gentlemen? And what exactly is her role in your plans?”

“That is none of your concern”, yelled Caspar. “Know your place, little darkling”.

“You talk as if you are greater than me,” Lucien said with a chuckle, unfazed by the outburst. "You need me, gentlemen, and I wouldn’t really say I need you too but as far as interests go, ours align so you will be of some use to me. But without my help, you will never find the girl. And you know what, forget about telling me what you want to do with her. Just hand her over to me once you've wrung her dry of whatever you seek”.

Caspar, seemingly satisfied, replied "Very well, Lucien. We agree to your terms. Once we’re done with her, she will be yours."

Lucien's malevolent grin stretched wider than ever before. "A wise choice, my dear wise men. And before you go, I’ll need her name”.

The men hesitated amongstefore Caspar answered.

“Greta Anderson”.

Lucien’s eyes widened.

“You can’t be serious” he said.

The three men cautiously stepped back.

“What do you mean?” asked Caspar, eyeing Lucien.

Lucien laughed, a maniacal Laugh and began to stomp his chair.

“I just realized why you need her so badly” he said.

Then with another sadistic grin he added, “Gentlemen the price just went up. I want her, untouched and unharmed. So whatever you have planned I’m afraid you’ll have to forget about it”.

♦

Greta woke with a start.

Her head was aching like a bastard. She tried to take in her surroundings and nearly had a heart attack when she finally noticed the pair of eyes glaring at her.

The figure was obscured by the cover of the bushes.

Speaking of bushes, she realized she was in a forest. Alone.

Well not alone, there was that scary thing in the bushes.

Summoning courage she shouted, to either scare off the creature or attract a passerby.

“Who are you!” she yelled.

The eyes just blinked. And no answer came.

She took this as her cue.

Staggering to her feet, Greta spun on her heels and ran in the opposite direction.

She hadn’t gone more than five steps away before her vision suddenly blurred and she fell face first.

But just as she was seconds away from connecting with the ground two hands caught her.

She looked up to meet familiar gold irises.

“You shouldn’t be running around”, he said in a stern voice. “You’re hurt”.

Greta found herself nodding sub consciously to his words.

“I’m hurt”, she repeated.

Then trying to shake off the effect he had on her, she stumbled back.

“W-what are you?” she asked.

Then with a start she pointed behind her and said, “There’s something there. Something bad”.

The winged men followed her hand to where it was pointing.

“Stop trying to scare her Raguel”, the man said. “Come Out”

Greta looked up at him, then back at the bush in confusion. Them she heard the bush rustle and another winged man stepped out.

This one’s wings were a mixture of grey and red. And he was bald and had boring black eyes.

“Did you just call him Raguel?” Greta asked, her mind trying to connect the dots. “Are you guys cosplaying Angels or something?”

The bald man snorted and flapped his wings.

“These are as real as they come, baby” The bald man said and flexed his wings more.

“Yeah right”, Greta scoffed. “That’s some A level cosplay, I’ll give you that”.

“He’s not lying”, said the other man.

Greta turned to face him just as he steadied her and began to dust her clothes. She couldn’t understand why but feeling his hands over her body made her mind travel places.

“We’re actually...that” the winged man said hesitantly.

“What?” Greta asked. “You’re actually what”

The winged man stepped away from her and sighed.

“Greta,” he said.

Hearing him call her name like that made her weak in the knees.

“My name is Azrael” said the winged men, then he pointed at the bald one behind her and said, “He is Raguel”

Then looking Greta dead in the eye, he added “And we’re both angels”

Greta’s head lulled and she fell back. But Azrael's arms there to steady her again.

Behind her, Raguel snorted again.

Azrael cast a glare at him and Raguel turned it into a cough.

“Are you okay?” Azrael asked Greta.

“No I’m not”, muttered Greta, her head pounding. “All I just wanted was to fix my laptop. And all of a sudden I got stabbed in the back by that Max guy, calling me the child of Eve or something. And now I’m dealing with angels—”

“Wait what did you just say?” Azrael asked, his grip on her tightening.

“I don’t think I’m in the mood to repeat that” Greta said, put off by the intensity of his gaze.

“That’s not what I mean”, he said and loosened his grip. “You said the boy called you something. The daughter of Eve?”

“Yeah”, Greta nodded. “Does that mean something?”

Azrael didn’t answer, instead sharing a look with Raguel.

The latter took a step forward, grabbing a sword that was clasped on his back.

But a warning look from Azrael made him stand down.

Then Azrael turned back to Greta.

“Does the name mean anything to you?” Azrael asked.

Greta slowly shook her head. “Is it supposed to?”

“So you don’t remember anything?” Azrael asked, his tone rising with each question.

Again she shook her head. “Remember what?”

Azrael opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a tremor in the ground.

“What the..” started Greta.

The grounds shook violently again, nearly throwing them off their feet.

This one seemed to vibrate thought out the forest clearing.

“Something’s coming!” Raguel yelled.

The air grew charged with tension as the earth quaked beneath them, causing leaves to rain down like a verdant storm.

Then before they could react, the forest seemed to explode in chaos. Trees splintered and crashed to the ground as an immense, hulk-like figure burst forth from the dense foliage. His colossal form, adorned with tattered remnants of clothing, cast a dark shadow over the clearing.

Raguel, drew his sword and moved to confront this behemoth of a man. As he moved his ethereal wings unfurled in a shimmering display of divineness.

Raguel swung his sword at the newcomer but the latter caught it with his bare hands. Raguel threw a left hook with his free hand and was again intercepted. Then the figure threw his head back and brought it down in a head-butt. Greta could have sworn she head a sonic boom from the impact.

Instantly Raguel went down.

Azrael, ever calm and unfazed, stepped in front of Greta, shielding her. His eyes locked onto the imposing figure before them. "Sampson, what are you doing here?" he inquired, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Sampson, his muscles bulging and veins pulsing with raw power, fixed a malevolent gaze on Azrael and Greta. "I'm here for her," he growled, his voice a deep rumble that reverberated through the clearing.

Azrael's resolve did not waver as he squared his shoulders and took a fighting stance. "You'll have to go through me first," he declared, his wings unfolding.

Sampson smashed his knuckles together, producing a deafening sound, and roared, "That won't be a problem!"

And with that he launched himself at Azrael.