Angels and Immortals
smburgos
Memories are not something I have been blessed with. Sometimes while sleeping I see clips of what I think is my past. All of what I’ve found is what I know’; I am what some people call an “Angel.” I, like many others similar to me, fell from the sky on “The Day of Darkness.” On that day the stars all around the world fell to Earth’s surface; that night the sky grew dim as the moon began to blacken, and so began Earth’s darkest of nights.
“Angel” was the name the religious freaks gave us; they had said that we fell from the heavens because in some way humanity enraged their God; and that we were sent to punish or extinguish all of humanity. Truth is no matter what name is given to us, we are all murderers; but I choose to separate myself from my kind; I made it my choice not to take the lives of men, women, and children; with my loss of memory brought the realization how much the lives around me are worth.
The Rebellion has been known for dealing harshly with my kind, though they have never actually killed one of us; given the chance they would not even let us plead for our lives. The Rebellion is now a growing faction, whose cause is to end our existence, to end our so called selfishness; they believe we take the lives of humans to better insure our immortality; giving birth to our second name as “Immortals.”
None of this mattered to me; at least not any more; it seemed to be part of my history but I did not care. I wanted to live my life but then I met her, and all I needed to do was to protect her. I hated to think that everything I strived for was gone; that the path I tried to lay out for her was gone. She needs me and now all I am is a broken body on the side of the road. I am a traitor and an outcast; so this should not come as a surprise my life is short lived. What was I anyway?
“Angel” was the name the religious freaks gave us; they had said that we fell from the heavens because in some way humanity enraged their God; and that we were sent to punish or extinguish all of humanity. Truth is no matter what name is given to us, we are all murderers; but I choose to separate myself from my kind; I made it my choice not to take the lives of men, women, and children; with my loss of memory brought the realization how much the lives around me are worth.
The Rebellion has been known for dealing harshly with my kind, though they have never actually killed one of us; given the chance they would not even let us plead for our lives. The Rebellion is now a growing faction, whose cause is to end our existence, to end our so called selfishness; they believe we take the lives of humans to better insure our immortality; giving birth to our second name as “Immortals.”
None of this mattered to me; at least not any more; it seemed to be part of my history but I did not care. I wanted to live my life but then I met her, and all I needed to do was to protect her. I hated to think that everything I strived for was gone; that the path I tried to lay out for her was gone. She needs me and now all I am is a broken body on the side of the road. I am a traitor and an outcast; so this should not come as a surprise my life is short lived. What was I anyway?
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