Aris woke up with a start. The air was cool around him but he was perspiring like a can of Coke on a hot day. The words of Lucifer kept ringing in his head. His own God. Hands in gloves with Satan. Gifting him his angels like sheep to be slaughtered since countless centuries.
No one knew that in the dieing moments of Raul, Aris had broken protocol and made contact with him. He was the sole witness to the torture inflicted on Raul. His sweet, gentle Raul. His beautiful, strong companion. The only person he loved. How he had died with the hands of the Fire demon. Roasted alive. Two tears fell from Aris' eyes as he remembered Raul's last thought.
Someone has to pay for his death. But first he needed proof.
Donovan was the Archangel of Vengeance. One of the best in the business but entangled so much in the bureaucratic maze of power that his chances of becoming a higher being were almost nil. Frustrated, angry and pissed off at everyone around him.
He stood in the middle of New Delhi with the downpour drenching his jet black wings. The first monsoon rain used to be a wonderful time to be here. With the smell of rain on the parched earth, cool breeze flowing through your hair taking away all the troubles with them and the ice cold water soaking your soul with its purity. But now all he saw was a world rushing past him at breakneck speed. Everyone in a hurry. Drivers screaming their head off at each other and the blazing horns eating away the sanity of one's mind. The uncaring, sweaty swarms of humans moving as the columns of the Spartan army. The bottlenecks on the roads and the smog that enveloped everything. The grandeur of the Taj Hotel striking a bleak contrast with the homeless living on the pavements. With the chance of the next terror strike just on the horizon, this place can give 'hell' a run for its money anytime.
'This is the world we are fighting for??' he wondered, 'These mortals fight each day to survive. Their life is a constant struggle, how can I expect them to be loving, compassionate and tolerant towards each other? How can anyone expect so much from them? For what purpose they were put on earth in the first place??'
A car suddenly banged the vehicle in front of it. A lady screamed as the two occupants got into a scuffle. Soon they were joined by a mob cheering them on.
Donovan shook his head. With hopelessness entering his heart, he wished his tenure will get over soon and he may get out of this job. Disillusioned with his kind and their work he soared into the sky. If only he had seen back once more he would have seen the lights of the city shining as a beacon of hope and might have felt reassured.
He might have also seen the Grey vulture following him.
Jack was also running in a downpour through the streets of New York. But instead of musing on the the whole philosophy of his and his fellow beings existence, all his attention was focused on finding a cab. At 24, a recent Yale graduate with a looker of a girlfriend to sleep with every night, life was cruising according to 'the plan' for him. But like all the plans, this was destined to fail too.
And it started with his being shot dead by a mugger on the next street.
'Every time an Angel dies, something bad happens on earth', thought God.