Michael held Uriel close to him. He knew that he was the only one that could release her from this torment that Lucifer had placed her in. But he would have to kill her. But how could he? He stroked her mangled cheek gently. Her hair had once been a glorious gold with ruby highlights, but now it was burned and had melted together in a heap beside her face.

“I’ll be alright,” she whispered. Her voice was thick and heavy with the sounds of the fluid that bubbled up out of her lungs as she spoke. She looked up at him. Her gold eyes were dulled from the pain, but were still brighter then his had ever been.

“You don’t know that,” Michael whispered back.

“I am a servant of God and my commission of service is for all time. When I die, I will join with the stars of heaven and I will continue to serve him even then.”

He put his hand on her mouth. It was so hard for her to speak and harder for him to listen. He stretched his wings up and out behind him. They were his glory and his power. He could feel the energy they gave him pulsing down into him. Blue feathers fell from the wings and swirled down around him. Their leaving exposed the leathery structures beneath. He knew what this meant. Lucifer’s wings has lost all their feathers and now stood behind him as leathery and boney expanses of rebellion. But how could this rage he felt now be against the will of God? Surely, God could not want one of his beloved, his Voice, to be as she is now! Lucifer must suffer for this! Tears showered down amongst the falling feathers.

“Kill me,” she begged.

He knew he must. He wasn’t strong enough to restore her to what she was. But, he was strong enough to destroy her. The other angels had tried, but they could not break the bond that Lucifer had made. This present was for him to unwrap. That’s how Lucifer wanted it. The falling feathers made clear the why.

He ripped out her throat.

The glorious light in her eyes faded then died. She was gone. Her body crumbled and faded as well, leaving nothing of her, but the stain of blood on his left hand. His skin would remain red with her blood forever; just the way that Lucifer’s body was now red with the blood of the angels he’d slain and bathed in. It had never been enough for Lucifer to kill an angel. He’d always had to torture them. The torture of one angel was the torment of all the angels; so many had fallen from grace from their wrath. Many felt the wrath so strong that they became one of the new breed.

More feathers fell from Michael’s wings.

He stood and turned to look at the others. They looked at him and knew what the swirling feathers meant. There was nothing that they could say. How does one catch a falling angel? None of them knew. All the angels that had begun to loose feathers had all fallen. None had regained the grace of God.

Raphael was the only one who was looking at him.  It hurt Michael to see the others advert their eyes. Raphael caught a blue feather in his hand and gently brought it to his lips. His kiss was one of healing, but this seemed too large a wound even for the Spirit of God.

The others hands were also red, but their feathers remained secure on their wings. Michael briefly wondered how they could kill their brothers and sisters and not feel what he felt burning inside of him. He struggled with it and managed to push it aside. He felt the usual clam settle itself over him. For now, he would continue to serve God and when he fell… no he would not fall!