Chapter Text
He collapsed to his knees, eyes swelling with tears. He looked down at the ground in shame and buried his hands into his face. As if it would hide him from the weight of his sin.
A young man lay on the opposite side of the field from him, the body splayed across a field of golden wheat, now stained the dark muddy red of cold blood. The body bore a similar face to his own, and he still felt fraternal love towards it as he stared at it in shock.
The expression on its face was one of solemn terror, fear, and betrayal. As well as a hundred other emotions that words couldn’t even begin to describe. Its eyes were drained and defeated of any love it may had once held. Its shirt was soaked with dark, warm, fresh blood that bubbled and oozed slightly as its vitality slowly disappeared. Its skin was pale with the lifelessness that only the dead carried. For embedded directly in its chest was an ugly, crude black iron sickle.
He could feel the bile and the vomit rising from his stomach as he couldn’t look away from the grim, gory sight of his own creation. To think that he could do this.
The Lord came down from the heavens. In a radiant glory so beautiful yet fearsome that those who looked at it went blind. He sat upon a throne of interlocking wheels of gold, hundreds of eyes were set into their rims. Blinking and staring at the tainted, imperfect world around them. The Seraphim followed behind them, their harmonious voices singing the Lord’s praise, their brightness rivaling that of the sun itself.
The Lord looked down upon the brothers, quietly examining the transgression. Then in a melodic, yet commanding voice, he spoke to the brother who killed, making sure every word seared itself like a branding iron into his mind.
“Did you kill your brother?” The Lord asked, even though the Lord already knew the answer.
He turned away, stammering and stuttering trying to give an answer.
The Lord sighed. And turned to look at the comatose body whose blood now turned sticky, and spread out over the grass staining it into a sickening sanguine.
“A good promising young man” The Lord lamented. “And you killed him. Why?”
He looked down at the ground, “I did it out of my faith my lord.”
“You may as well be faithless.” The Lord said, and thus it would be. For the Lord’s word was law. He proclaimed that the brother who killed, the first murderer in all of time, would be cast off from The Lord's love for eternity. He would be marked, so that future generations would know what he did. Lastly, he could not be killed, lest the killer would be cursed with 7 times as much wrath as God’s abandonment. Not even Angels of Death would touch him.
He pleaded with the Lord for mercy, he begged and apologized, but the Lord returned to Heaven with his Angels, the Burning ones following him all the way up, and left the Prime Killer to his own devices.
The Prime Killer understood his mistake. To him, his family and the Lord were all he ever knew. They were the only things in this world. To not only be stripped of his brother, but the respect of his mother, father, and Lord was a great burden to bear.
He tried to seek forgiveness, to repent for his actions. He prayed day in and day out. Week by week, month by month, and year by year. He prayed until his knees and knuckles bled with exhaustion. But the Lord never returned.
He went east and created a new kingdom with what little remained of God’s gifts to him. Founding it on his laws and teachings, ruling justly and fairly. All in an attempt to appease him. He ruled until his mind throbbed and his willpower crumbled. But the Lord never returned.
He created a son named Enoch. Whom the Lord spoke to, and who wandered Heaven and Paradise while still mortal. He became the Lord’s beloved, and wrote and witnessed many wondrous things. Enoch was eventually taken to live in Heaven among the Angels, and the Prime Killer hoped his fatherhood of this wonderful person would redeem him in the eyes of the Lord. But the Lord never returned.
His subjects slowly grew complacent, decadent, and corruptible. Why must they revere this Lord so much, they asked, if he did not even speak to them in return? They gazed upon the graceful Watchers. Agents of God left behind to observe the Earth. They obsessed with fascination and lust, and the Watchers acquiesced.
He and his new family watched in horror as new beasts wandered the Earth. The Great Nephilim came to be from the unnatural union of mankind and divination. Towering giants hungering for the flesh, whose great bodies spread devastation wherever they went.
The Watchers soon disappeared after the Nephilim were born. Other Angels descended to rid the world of the monstrous giants and their human mothers and fathers.
Alas, The Prime Killer continued on. He reformed his kingdom, desperately attempting to patch its very human failings. Poverty, desperation, addiction, famine, plague, and finally, flood eventually doomed them all, and by the end of it. The Prime Killer still remained on this Earth.
He despaired. He had seen over a thousand years of history. Generations upon generations of his created kingdom born, live and die. He had seen the grandest of heroes, people going about their day-to-day lives, thieves, and drunkards. He helped spread humanity, and helped Earth. Yet the Lord never returned.
I
f the Lord never returned to him, he decided. Then he could never return to humanity. Thus, he disappeared into the world. Traveling, wandering. He appeared, and just as quickly as he came, he disappeared. And slowly, over time, people began to forget his legend.
The ones smothered in smoke did not. The outcasts of Heaven began to theorize, for being thrown away by God did not make them weaker. In fact, it made them stronger. They licked their wounds from their battles with their Divine siblings and eagerly gulped down their new independence. They looked up to the mortal world to find new power and found it in the hearts of men and women.
They understood that to oppose Heaven, mankind was their key. They needed people, people to be their servants and their slaves. They needed people to be the engineers and the mechanical parts of their terrible war machine. Thus, as souls leave human bodies, the Fallen drag them to hell to serve new, terrible purposes.
And the Prime Killer found his own new purpose, he would fight to preserve the Lord’s dignity on Earth, whether the Lord cared for it or not, he would.