T he fallen Angels peered through the brass gates of their dungeon.
Clouds of smoke taunted them from the eternal inferno; prepared especially for them. Hell fires danced in clear view.
“I hate those god-fearing, bootlickers.” Semjaza, the ringleader said. He clenched his teeth while he observed Michael the Arc Angel from afar.
“Mind the damned brass.” Samsapeel shouted at two others who misjudged their proximity to it.
It was too late; Baraqijal and Asael already writhed in pain.
The smell of burnt celestial tissue, caused drops of sweat from the others, to spatter on the electromagnetic floor.
Semjaza turned his thoughts elsewhere. Why? Why was building the world’s first Ziggurat such a gross violation? A sigh trundled from his perfectly-shaped
…show more content…
We were so close…
A shuffle emerged in their ranks.
“What is wrong with you?” He demanded.
“That is our human. She bears the markings.” Armaros said and flapped his wings.
“Where?”
He stretched his finger. “Look.”
One hundred and ninety nine others pushed for ground.
“You hope in vain,” Ezeqeel said and turned away. “Who dares to challenge God and go unpunished?”
“Lucifer.” Samsapeel replied.
“Really?” Ezeqeel arched his brow. “And in the meantime we are trapped in this hellhole–literally.”
“Silence.” Semjaza ordered. “The Light bearer promised us freedom, did he not? If that human does have what we need; I assure you– he will get
…show more content…
Still, her shoulders drooped when she caught sight of her grandparents’ vacant reserved seats.
She sipped from her water bottle, peeked over her shoulder and wiggled in her seat throughout the formalities.
The ceremony was characterised by speeches, cheers and tears. Some shared bear hugs and high-fives characterized with ‘selfies’ in between.
There was none for her from anyone that mattered. No sibling, nor ‘Bff’ or boyfriend to support or share this achievement with her. Eventually the handshakes over her head, the shed tears in front her and the cheers behind her, caused her to retreat into her chair. How could you just stay away?
Her hands moved up and down over her arms. Well I suppose that’s what you get when you infuriate your clan and spend zero time at frat parties. Guess I should’ve followed the Dean’s advice about becoming part of at least one sorority.
At the end of her graduation that night, with a doctorate under her belt; she took fast-paced strides through the crowds–her private theories of wormhole metrics, begged for her attention at home. Enjoy your Pow