Wings of the Demon (SebastianxReader)

Chapter 1

You heard wings flap not far from where you were chained followed by the sound of feet hitting the ground. You could not see nor ask who had come, but you had hope that it was someone who had come to set you free. Surely they forgave you after such a long time. You couldn't beg or plead for forgiveness, but you could wish, wish and wish for it.

"Filth, I am disappointed in you. After such a long time, you still have not repented."

So it seemed the being before you was the archangel, Marthol. They were put in charge of you at the time of your creation, as well as a handful of other new angels. Though you were the only one whom they seemed to have a distaste for.

You heard their footsteps coming closer to you. Feeling the scorn and utter loathing radiating from their form.

"You should count yourself lucky. The Dominions have decided upon your release, though I and many others think you should simply be left to rot."

You heard another flap of wings, and suddenly, the chains were being unlatched from your person, though rather roughly.

You did not complain nor make any sound of discomfort. If you had you would have been in for more pain than you believed you deserved.

After the chains were taken from you, you rubbed your sore wrists and neck - trying to soothe the stinging that the chains caused.

You stretched your wings that were stiff from disuse. Marthol twitched when your wings came into view. They snarled, then as if a light had gone off inside them, a look of contentment washed over the once harsh lines of disdain.

"Come dear," You were not fooled by the new tinge of sweetness that came over Marthols voice. It infact made you ever the more wary.

Marthol was never kind to you. Calling you filth and a disgrace regularly. Though they were meant to name you upon your creation, they did not. And so the terms of loathing that they used to address you became your name. You had no other.

The three of you, Marthol, you and the angel that released you from the chains, walked through what you knew as heaven.

Everything here seemed to be opposite of what the name would suggest. Everything was monochrome. The streets, the towers, the columns, even the sky above lacked the vibrancy that one would think a place called heaven would have.

The place was desolate as well. You rarely saw any other angels here. The one's you did see seemed...off somehow. They too lacked vibrance and simply glided through space as if they did not exist.

You had lived in this place since your creation, so you were used to the drab atmosphere. Even though it greatly contrasted with your (h/c) hair, (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, and (w/c) wings.

You even to contrast with Marthol and their aid, who had very light hair and eyes. Their appearance seemed to be that of purity itself, yet that also contrasted with they way they acted towards you and the other angels that assumed had no souls.

Marthol was, for lack of a better word, a menace towards you. You weren't sure why, but whenever you were in the vicinity or mentioned, their demeanor would become so mean and so cruel, that you wondered why you were put in their charge to begin with.

The three of you walked through the grey landscape until you reached a building made of grey stones to match the landscape and a large wooden double doored entrance.

Marthol pushed the heavy doors open with a soft chuckle, one that would even make the devil cower. Whatever was going to happen wasn't good.

Inside, was just as unremarkable as outside. The entire building, or at least what you could see of it, was completely empty. Though, there was a cross at the far side of the space that stretched all the way up to the ceiling.