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|Gabriel's Story (standard:fantasy, 1016 words)|
|Author: Shadows Laugh||Added: Jun 14 2006||Views/Reads: 1632/1000||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Cast from Heaven, all for the love of a mortal.|
Fiendish voices whisper blasphemies in my mind, giving me little respite as blood trickles from my ears. The sweet sickly scent of my burning flesh stinging my seared nostrils as all around the infernal choir of Hell sing of my fall from grace. I try to shield myself with the twisted and contorted remains of my wings; blackened and bloodied feathers surround my tortured form. This is my existence. This is the wages of my sin. And what dreadful act did I commit to be cast from Heaven? Love. My name is Gabriel and this is my story. Everyday I would watch Ezekiel as he prepared himself for mass in the small country church. The parishioners were becoming fewer and fewer as the years went by, the church more dilapidated. Once there had been such passion and conviction as Ezekiel delivered HIS word, his eyes alive with the love he held for HIM. Slowly like a witling flower that passion and conviction began to die as Ezekiel began to loose his faith. His beautiful eyes reflected the anguish that was tearing him apart from the inside out. “Why have you turned your back on me Lord? How can I believe in you?” I watched as Ezekiel fell to his knees, his shaking hands clutching the Eucharist as he looked up towards the wooden crucifix that hang from the cracked wall, tears streaming down his face. A single tear fell from the stone statue that represented me, as Ezekiel buried his head in his hands. “Why? Why? Why have you deserted me my God?” “HE may have deserted you my Ezekiel but I never will.” My voice sounded in his head, making him start. Slowly he withdrew his trembling hands, his reddened eyes darting nervously around. “Do not fear Ezekiel.” Slowly he came to his feet, brushing back dark curls that clung to his tear stained face. “I have always been with you...” Ezekiel rubbed at his temples, my voice chasing away the darkness that swirled like a maelstrom in his mind. “W...who are you?” A snow -white lily fell at his feet. Ezekiel bent down to pick it up, his eyes wide as he looked towards the stone statue. In one hand I held my trumpet and the other a perfectly shaped lily. Ezekiel whispered my name, his hand reaching up to touch the wetness that stained my stone cheek before with a shuddering sigh he collapsed before me unconscious. My beautiful Ezekiel. At first I came to him in his dreams, chasing away the nightmares that tormented him so. Sometimes I would leave lilies upon his pillow, the sweet scent of myrrh filling his tiny chamber. One summers evening he was alone in the tiny chapel; lighting the many candles that sat in wax encrusted holders. “My Beloved Ezekiel.” He turned to the sound of my voice, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed upon my human form. The setting summer sun reflected through the stained glass window, setting my golden hair ablaze as if I wore a crown of fire. My burnished skin glowed, my eyes bluer than a summer's sky, filled with the love that I held for this human. Click here to read the rest of this story (76 more lines)
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