Evil Angel

Traci turned back to the altar, the knife slipping from her hands, the bleeding from her wrists becoming growing pools of crimson at her knees. The candlelight flickers as she shudders from the pain. Her cry, cracked and coarse from her throat, breaks the darkness.

"Belial, take me."

From the shadows in the creases of the walls booms laughter, deep and joyless, yet contented all the same. The fallen angel Belial, resplendent with his golden horns, marked talons, and blackened wings, steps forth from what seemed to be nothing at all, its arms outstretched.

"Embrace me, child."

The pure malice of his tone drove through her paling frame yet she did not stumble as she fell forward into the beast's arms. She pleaded "Free me, please free me from this life. I've known only sorrow, tasted only bitterness, experienced only shame and humiliation. Give me new meaning and purpose in your service."

"You think it so simple for you to escape this life?" Belial speaks gravelly as if the words are foreign to his ancient tongue. "Do you not know of the penance your soul must now suffer?"

"I know only that I will be free." said Traci, her eyes now rising to meet the glowing amber ones of her host.

"Then enjoy your freedom, slave." With a snap of his fingers, the room is extinguished in darkness. Traci feels her feet leave the floor. The sensation of weightlessness, falling, overwhelms her, but still she cannot see. Finally, she realizes her eyes are closed, and she struggles to open them still wondering why she had closed them in the first place. What greeted her upon their opening was the last thing she had expected.

She was literally falling towards the earth. Large swaths of green and brown extended below her. Great billowy cloud formations zoomed past her peripheral vision. It was all so real, so beautiful, and yet so unbelievably terrifying. No, she thought. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Not like this.

On the winds she screamed his name. "Belial, save me!"

The winds answered in his voice. "Save yourself."

It is only then that she begins to scream. Not from the predicament of the impending end on the ground below but from the sudden wracking pain as her shoulder blades proceeded to rip apart of their own accord producing black feathery wings. The sinewy scraping of her flesh against the new protrusions provided a silent agony of sorts but also made her realize that she actually was in control of their movements.

With a twitch that might have previously only been done to relieve an itch, Traci suddenly turned in mid-fall and stopped her downward momentum. The winds changed as her wings spread full and flapped above producing enough lift to halt her previous course. This was amazing, she thought. How did she never know how wonderful it would be to fly of her own accord?

In her moment of astonishment, however, the fallen angel's voice
returned upon the wind.

"You are now my hunter. A hunter of souls. Seek out those who need
cleansing and bend them to my will. Your freedom is only for my benefit. Never forget who gave you purpose enough to fly."

Traci whispered in awe. "Yes...master."

And with another turn, she descended, in search of her master's quarry.