The Fallen Angel
Two things were going through Michael's head as he fell from Heaven. The first was-- Why the hell aren't my wings working?-- because he was trying as hard as he could to open them, but it wasn't working any. The second was-- Why am I being kicked out of Heaven in the first place? He was just minding his own business, walking through a field of marigolds and poppies when His messengers-- cleverly called The Messengers-- came and hauled him away, tossing him off the nearest cloud.
Yeah, because that was totally called for.
He didn't even know what he did. It's not like there are too many sins you can commit in Heaven. It's actually harder than one might think to get kicked out of the Holy Kingdom. Especially if you had no concious mind of what you did.
The fall from Heaven took a lot longer than Mike thought it would. And it was getting uncomfortably hot. God works in mysterious ways; Mike landed just off the shoreline of a coast somewhere in California; the water instantly cooled him off. At the speed he was going, he caused a huge splash. Think Shamu. Only a thousand times bigger.
As he surfaced, he thought to himself-- I hope to Him nobody saw that. That would be hard to explain. And he cursed his damned wings, which decided that they wanted to work after he hit the water. He sputtered water, and willed his wings back into his body. He felt the tightness under the skin of his back, which signified that they were in proper place.
His white robe was soaked and clung to his body, weighing him down and making it hard to swim to the shore. He huffed as when he was settled on the sand. He ran a hand through his sodden hair, ringing water out of the jet-black locks. He laid against the sand, regaining his loss of breath from a combination of things: the fall, the impact, the swim, and the fear of what the hell he did to piss God off.
God is a pretty even-tempered guy, it takes a lot to make him mad; especially mad enough to frickin' kick you out of Heaven.
Mike closed his eyes and prayed a silent prayer; asking for forgiveness for whatever he did, and asking if he could come back home.
Emptiness echoed through his mind, and it made his stomach twist violently. You could always feel God's presence in your mind, in your soul, but Mike couldn't feel anything, and it made him sick to his stomach.
Mike raised up, propping himself on his hands, and took in his surroundings. He was on a deserted beach, no one in sight. For that, he was thankful. Because it would be hard to explain how he fell from the sky and landed without so much as a scratch.
Mike felt an ache deep in his soul, an ache caused by the absence of his Father. He'd never not had His presence, and it was unnerving. He felt empty, barren. He had heard stories of Fallen Angels, but he'd never encountered one. Not in all his years in the Holy Kingdom.
And now he was a Fallen Angel.
Mike rose unsteadily to his feet, bare feet sinking into the soft sand. There was a soft gasp behind him, and he turned to face the noise. There was a young human standing behind him, dressed in a wetsuit with a longboard at his side.
The human was gorgeous; with strong features and well toned body. Mike stared at him, unable to take his eyes away. The human stared back; stricken by Michael's inhuman beauty and grace, despite looking like a drowned rat. The human took a tentative step toward the Fallen Angel. Mike didn't move. Just watched as the human slowly edged closer. He was eventually right in front Mike. It's then that he noticed that the human was actually a solid four or five inches taller than him. How embarrassing. He felt small and feeble being out of his heavenly realm anyway, and the first human he meets practically towers over him.
That's nice.
They continue to stare at each other, and after a second Mike comes to the conclusion that this has to be the most innocent looking human he's ever seen. Not that he sees too many, just when they enter Heaven's gates before they're turned to Angels.
After a minute, the human seemed to find his voice, and when he talks his voice was deep and smooth and sent shivers down Mike's spine. "Wh-what are you?"
Mike thought for a second, because he wasn't totally sure. "I was an Angel, but...I'm not sure anymore."
The human's eyes widened enough for Mike to fear they were going to fall out of his head. "Really?"
Mike nodded, still not taking his eyes away from the human. "I have the wings to prove it."
The human was shocked into silence, so Mike took the initiative. "I'm Michael....Mike. And you are?"
The human held out his hand for Mike to shake. "I-I'm Rob Bourdon...I don't really know what to say, I've never met an Angel before."
Mike smiled slightly. He was right, Rob had to be the most innocent human on Earth. "It's okay, I've never met a real human before, just when they enter Heaven. And they don't stay real humans very long."
Rob's mouth dropped open. "Heaven's real?"
Mike frowned because that was kind of a stupid question-- you know, asking an Angel if Heaven is real. "Well, the Angel's have to stay somewhere, right? And we don't fair too well in the underworld...not that I would know, I've never actually been there. But I've heard some gruesome stories."
Mike could tell Rob was censoring himself from saying-- Hell's real, too? He settled instead for-- "Do you want to come back to my place?...I-I mean to dry off, and get some clothes and...stuff. Yeah."
Mike smiled. "That would be great, Rob."
Yeah, because that was totally called for.
He didn't even know what he did. It's not like there are too many sins you can commit in Heaven. It's actually harder than one might think to get kicked out of the Holy Kingdom. Especially if you had no concious mind of what you did.
The fall from Heaven took a lot longer than Mike thought it would. And it was getting uncomfortably hot. God works in mysterious ways; Mike landed just off the shoreline of a coast somewhere in California; the water instantly cooled him off. At the speed he was going, he caused a huge splash. Think Shamu. Only a thousand times bigger.
As he surfaced, he thought to himself-- I hope to Him nobody saw that. That would be hard to explain. And he cursed his damned wings, which decided that they wanted to work after he hit the water. He sputtered water, and willed his wings back into his body. He felt the tightness under the skin of his back, which signified that they were in proper place.
His white robe was soaked and clung to his body, weighing him down and making it hard to swim to the shore. He huffed as when he was settled on the sand. He ran a hand through his sodden hair, ringing water out of the jet-black locks. He laid against the sand, regaining his loss of breath from a combination of things: the fall, the impact, the swim, and the fear of what the hell he did to piss God off.
God is a pretty even-tempered guy, it takes a lot to make him mad; especially mad enough to frickin' kick you out of Heaven.
Mike closed his eyes and prayed a silent prayer; asking for forgiveness for whatever he did, and asking if he could come back home.
Emptiness echoed through his mind, and it made his stomach twist violently. You could always feel God's presence in your mind, in your soul, but Mike couldn't feel anything, and it made him sick to his stomach.
Mike raised up, propping himself on his hands, and took in his surroundings. He was on a deserted beach, no one in sight. For that, he was thankful. Because it would be hard to explain how he fell from the sky and landed without so much as a scratch.
Mike felt an ache deep in his soul, an ache caused by the absence of his Father. He'd never not had His presence, and it was unnerving. He felt empty, barren. He had heard stories of Fallen Angels, but he'd never encountered one. Not in all his years in the Holy Kingdom.
And now he was a Fallen Angel.
Mike rose unsteadily to his feet, bare feet sinking into the soft sand. There was a soft gasp behind him, and he turned to face the noise. There was a young human standing behind him, dressed in a wetsuit with a longboard at his side.
The human was gorgeous; with strong features and well toned body. Mike stared at him, unable to take his eyes away. The human stared back; stricken by Michael's inhuman beauty and grace, despite looking like a drowned rat. The human took a tentative step toward the Fallen Angel. Mike didn't move. Just watched as the human slowly edged closer. He was eventually right in front Mike. It's then that he noticed that the human was actually a solid four or five inches taller than him. How embarrassing. He felt small and feeble being out of his heavenly realm anyway, and the first human he meets practically towers over him.
That's nice.
They continue to stare at each other, and after a second Mike comes to the conclusion that this has to be the most innocent looking human he's ever seen. Not that he sees too many, just when they enter Heaven's gates before they're turned to Angels.
After a minute, the human seemed to find his voice, and when he talks his voice was deep and smooth and sent shivers down Mike's spine. "Wh-what are you?"
Mike thought for a second, because he wasn't totally sure. "I was an Angel, but...I'm not sure anymore."
The human's eyes widened enough for Mike to fear they were going to fall out of his head. "Really?"
Mike nodded, still not taking his eyes away from the human. "I have the wings to prove it."
The human was shocked into silence, so Mike took the initiative. "I'm Michael....Mike. And you are?"
The human held out his hand for Mike to shake. "I-I'm Rob Bourdon...I don't really know what to say, I've never met an Angel before."
Mike smiled slightly. He was right, Rob had to be the most innocent human on Earth. "It's okay, I've never met a real human before, just when they enter Heaven. And they don't stay real humans very long."
Rob's mouth dropped open. "Heaven's real?"
Mike frowned because that was kind of a stupid question-- you know, asking an Angel if Heaven is real. "Well, the Angel's have to stay somewhere, right? And we don't fair too well in the underworld...not that I would know, I've never actually been there. But I've heard some gruesome stories."
Mike could tell Rob was censoring himself from saying-- Hell's real, too? He settled instead for-- "Do you want to come back to my place?...I-I mean to dry off, and get some clothes and...stuff. Yeah."
Mike smiled. "That would be great, Rob."