Application for summer program; Requirements: descriptive prose, respond to witness
The heavens sang a mournful dirge as steel clashed, blood flowed, and feathers flew. All was chaos.
I grimaced as I watched another of my friends fall down before Lucifer’s sword. Lucifer, who was once the right hand of God, who once carried out His will, His words, and His orders, had started this all. His golden hair gleamed in the sunlight, his body glistened from the sweat of fighting as his wings beat a slow, strong, and even tempo, the determined wind from them pushed away the weaker angels. The sword in his hands still gleamed a pure blue silver, although it had tasted the blood and souls of countless angels. Lucifer looked like a true angel of God’s vengeance. There was blood matted in his hair and feathers and splattered across his chest. What really gave him away were his eyes. Instead of the soft blue of the purest skies that all we angels have, his were the blue of pure tempered steel, but colder and sharper.
I had heard that when he focused on you, you could do nothing to stop your death. His gaze was razor sharp. It felt as though he had already pierced you with his sword. While his eyes held you in a painful trance, his sword fulfilled the vision and pushed through the supple flesh and out the other side. It felt as though your flesh was on fire and you were burning from the inside. As death hovered ever closer, all the bad things that you had ever done, ever thought, or someone had thought about you come crashing into your mind, tearing your mind apart just as your body is torn apart by the sword. Right before death claims you, you would hear a hollow and cold laugh echo within your body all the way to the depths of your soul. The laugh of a demonic object, that accursed sword. This was my foe.
As I killed, my eyes started to well up with water. My mind pulled itself away from my body and I saw myself. Hacking to pieces those I had once called friends. I watched as beloved friends, family, and comrades fell to the Earth in death, and my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. In a fit of rage, I flew at top speed towards that hated angel, Lucifer. I raised my sword, aglow with the power and strength of my faith. He turned when he heard my scream of fury and retribution. When his eyes did focus on me, I became afraid and pulled up on my headlong charge. Instead of the immense pain that I expected, his eyes seemed to be sad. Inside of me, that sadness echoed and intensified, until I even began to feel pity for this fallen angel. As his sword pierced my chest and sliced through my melancholy and confused heart, I felt no pain. Instead of the dreaded laugh that was supposed to be expected, I heard Lucifer’s sleek voice in my mind. “Forgive me, my sister. But your death will not be in vain.” And with his words echoing within me, I passed beyond the final gate.
I grimaced as I watched another of my friends fall down before Lucifer’s sword. Lucifer, who was once the right hand of God, who once carried out His will, His words, and His orders, had started this all. His golden hair gleamed in the sunlight, his body glistened from the sweat of fighting as his wings beat a slow, strong, and even tempo, the determined wind from them pushed away the weaker angels. The sword in his hands still gleamed a pure blue silver, although it had tasted the blood and souls of countless angels. Lucifer looked like a true angel of God’s vengeance. There was blood matted in his hair and feathers and splattered across his chest. What really gave him away were his eyes. Instead of the soft blue of the purest skies that all we angels have, his were the blue of pure tempered steel, but colder and sharper.
I had heard that when he focused on you, you could do nothing to stop your death. His gaze was razor sharp. It felt as though he had already pierced you with his sword. While his eyes held you in a painful trance, his sword fulfilled the vision and pushed through the supple flesh and out the other side. It felt as though your flesh was on fire and you were burning from the inside. As death hovered ever closer, all the bad things that you had ever done, ever thought, or someone had thought about you come crashing into your mind, tearing your mind apart just as your body is torn apart by the sword. Right before death claims you, you would hear a hollow and cold laugh echo within your body all the way to the depths of your soul. The laugh of a demonic object, that accursed sword. This was my foe.
As I killed, my eyes started to well up with water. My mind pulled itself away from my body and I saw myself. Hacking to pieces those I had once called friends. I watched as beloved friends, family, and comrades fell to the Earth in death, and my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. In a fit of rage, I flew at top speed towards that hated angel, Lucifer. I raised my sword, aglow with the power and strength of my faith. He turned when he heard my scream of fury and retribution. When his eyes did focus on me, I became afraid and pulled up on my headlong charge. Instead of the immense pain that I expected, his eyes seemed to be sad. Inside of me, that sadness echoed and intensified, until I even began to feel pity for this fallen angel. As his sword pierced my chest and sliced through my melancholy and confused heart, I felt no pain. Instead of the dreaded laugh that was supposed to be expected, I heard Lucifer’s sleek voice in my mind. “Forgive me, my sister. But your death will not be in vain.” And with his words echoing within me, I passed beyond the final gate.