Hell and Heaven

Chapter 3

7 Years Later
Seven year old Diablo sat outside on the little swing he made himself. His father, Marcos, was testing some experiments inside. Looking off into the distance, he saw the fires illuminating the dark sky. He had always wondered what lied out there. His father had taught him that it was a fight that was never ending. "All Angels are bad, Diablo. Never forget that." His father always said. His black silken hair touched his eyebrow, and he used his pale skin to wipe it away. All of a sudden, an unbearable pain touched his back. He screamed, fell off his swing, and writhed on the ground. Marcos heard and ran out. "Diablo, what's wrong?" He said, concern in his voice. He shook his head, pointing at his back. His father turned and lifted his son's black t-shirt. He covered his mouth in shock. Two bones were sticking out, slowly making their way through the skin underneath the shoulder blades. They only got bigger as they came out. "Diablo, stop moving around." Marcos said, his voice calm and gleeful. As the bone, except the base, came out, it looked to be a shape of a wing. Tiny feathers patted down with blood, sticking out the bone. Getting out of his shock, Marcos picked up his son and carried him into the bathroom. He slowly took off his clothes, having to cut Diablo's shirt off, and set him in a bath that was waiting for him. He hissed at the hot water but soon relaxed. His father washed the blood from the wings and soon enough, the bathtub was filled with blood and floating feathers. He took him out, toweled him dry, and put him in his dark pajama bottoms. Before putting him to bed, without dinner because Diablo said he wasn't hungry, Marcos crouched in front of Diablo. "Diablo...I know that you're only seven. It's okay. But you know what came out of your back?" Diablo nodded, not quite understanding. Marcos smirked at his son. "It means you're ready."