Chapter Text
(The following letters seems to be the start of the true corruption of the Second Fallen. It seems we weren't wrong. Even he admits that Morningstar is responsible for all of it.)
Darling:
I just killed my first human.
I guess I should thank you for the idea, if nothing else. After my completely succesful first and only mission as a guardian angel, I couldn't stop thinking about my target. More correctly, about how I, being an angel sent on a heavenly task, was tangentially involved in his death and yet faced no repercusions whatsoever.
You were there, you remember. I certainly can't forget about how your presence changes everything. How even the sight of that stupid face of yours can turn things a lot more complicated they had any right to be.
But one still wonders, my dear, it's inevitable. It's quite intoxicating to realize that there are ways in which I can circunvent one of the most strongly held rules for all angelkind: the protection of all humanity. The very reason for our whole existence can be not only avoided, but entirely turned on its head. If I can get away with that, then what else I can do? Isn't that just fun to ponder?
Of course I won't be stupid about it, don't you worry that small little head of yours. I have a plan. Something close to a plan at least. An idea of a plan. Which is a lot more than you had when you doomed us both so, really, you should be praising me for my creativity.
But why, I can hear you asking. Killing animals I will consume myself is one thing, and we both know I am not squeamish about some gore, so why go out of my way to add another species to my collection of prey?
Well. You may not like my answer.
The truth is that I just really want to do it.
No, that is not correct.
I need to know that I can do it.
Humanity has done nothing but cause me trouble ever since Our Father made them. Isn't it about time I give them just one quarter back? If I can't kill Our Father, I will deal with his favorite Creation instead. There are so many of them already. He can spare me a few, don't you think? All the while, I will remain here in order to carry out my revenge. In fact, isn't that just the perfect way to sweeten all of this?
Maybe I will tell it all when I am done and I have no need of their eternal bliss. I will stand in front of them and count all the ways I brought even more to the afterlife. If they were good enough to end up here, then if anything I did a good deed. I helped them to come sooner! Can you imagine their faces decompose when the no flying angel they said for centuries reeked of death showed them all right, all under their uptight self righteous noses? Anything they want to do to me after will it worth it, my love, if only I can show them they should have never messed with me in the first place. Yes, gaze upon what you all made me do! Shudder with the horror you all allowed on your little paradise! Their hands will be the ones stained with human blood, not mine. Mine will be full with the tears of one angelic being, after I return to her the same coin she planned to keep my eyes closed with for all of eternity. It will be so funny.
But I am getting ahead of myself, dear!
Once I had the idea, the first issue was to known how to do it. I couldn't just simply shove a human in front of an incoming vehicle, or even send an animal to do that. The death of my target happened completely outside of my own control and influence, and that is how I have to keep it for now. Nobody should be able to trace it back to me.
Thus, I needed to experiment. Once or twice, or maybe five times, I sent some of my cherub assistants in a mission to earth to carry them out. I got the poison, I made it into delicious pastries you would have sallivated for and they delivered it. I told them all the same story: some souls in Heaven were sad that they weren't able to send something nice to their still alive loved one. I was obviously so busy with the radio and keeping in contact with these souls, but wouldn't they be so kind as to send this presents in name of the blessed ones?
You may already see the problem with this. It worked, in the sense that those humans did die, painfully for what I know, and those cherubs were the ones expelled from Heaven. Just as I suspected, they were never even given a chance to make their case and try to say they did it under my command. They were cherubs, after all. Who cares if they get lost on a simple task and never return? The moment one is away, another one is going to be born shortly after. That is like worrying about a missing ant when you still have to feed the children of your boss. Do you see now why I exclusively hired those to work at my radio?
They know how expendable they are too. That is why they dedicate entirely to every work they are put to do, because if they prove themselves useful then maybe their pathetic lives are going to have any value. Just give them a candid smile, say to them a good morning each day, don't ever yell in their presence and they will rave about what a great job they have, about what an amazing (secondary) boss you are and what a wonderful work environment they have. They will feel so important just because I bothered to learn their names.
Little convenient pawns, my stupid guillible cherubs. In the end, I never even had to use my power over them. I will admit that was the first reason for me choosing them, but in the end I didn't need to. With a friendly gesture, a soft voice, maybe a chuckle if warranted, that was more than enough. Not one of them ever questioned what I was asking. Not even after they never heard from the others again. Not even one of them ever wanted to go to Earth in order to check on their fallen companions and ask what did they do. And why would they, right? Those cherubs were bad. They broke the rules. If they weren't allowed back here, it could only be for a very good reason! Good riddance! In fact, it was all the better that they kept away from those lost souls for the rest of eternity.
You see, I could have keep doing this for as long as I wanted to. But where is the passion, my love? What is fun about just putting everything into motion, but never see the results by myself? So many of those souls never ended up here, so for all I know those humans could have been miracously saved and the cherubs punished for harming a mortal, rather than killing them. Don't you just wanna die of boredom by hearing about it? I know I do. I have seen so many animals lose their lives in front of me, because of me. Why should humans be any different? It really isn't fair.
That is how I determined I would only find any satisfaction by doing it myself. But how? I had the issue of how to go to Earth without anyone noticing and the issue of actually killing humans. The first one was rather easy, at least on paper.
It took me in actuallity weeks, but I convinced Sera to let me make a study into the porcentage of humans that ended up in Heaven vs the ones that ended in Hell. This would require of me to count how many humans were currently on Earth, how many died and then see if their names were written in Saint Peter's book. This would be an incredibly big herculean task considering the human population overall, but I insisted, oh yes I did. I said that the only way we could ever hope to combat evil (that is you) was to be aware of how many more humans were seduced by the corruption you spread, so then we could take the proper measures. Maybe I could talk with a few of those souls (under disguise, of course) and help them out to straight their path before it was too late? But my main objective was to being a numbers guy from Heaven. What a more beautiful way to prove the power of good (that is us) than by having neat, real, solid statistics showing that, despite it all, we were still winning? That despite how attractive, alluring and sweet your evil promises are, humanity still prefered us?
And I had to be the one to do it, my love. I would never rest until I was sure that I could do it. I had to, to try to assure myself that even if I couldn't stop you when I could (sniff, sniff), at least I could comfort myself knowing that not everything was lost (more sniff). Make it my redemption, if you will. Oh, I love my radio, and I love being in Heaven like any other angel, I said while imagining Sera screaming trapped in a ball of fire, but I had to do something else for it, to be good, again. My purpose was obsolete, but maybe a new one could emerge? I could send birds and insects and pets to collect even more numbers for me, tell me their insights on the lives of humans. If you thought about it, no other angel than me could ever hope to do this. I just needed a chance to prove myself and give back to everyone after such a tragedy (sniff.) Forget Oscars, my love. I deserved to run the entire academy with the performance I made.
Oh, and the best part? Because this is my task, that I am chosing to perform, there is no one to report. If there is a very big scary number of sinners, then of course I would speak up to Sera, but if not, why bother her? I can fill papers with nothing else but the name of your creations, and invent new duck related ones at my whim, and nobody will either stop me or care. A free pass to go to Earth as much and for as long as I want right there. Aren't you proud to be married with such a genius? You should be.
I still had another issue to face. I could become close to humans without anyone in Heaven keeping an eye out for me. Wonderful. But how do I killed them? Well, that was surprisingly easy to discover.
Some may say it was even an accident. I say that just because I didn't plan it, doesn't mean I shouldn't get all the credit for it. For you see, I was still the one who decided to speak with that man at the park. He had been, as kids say these days, "dumped" and he felt there was no better thing to do than to walk around, beer in hand, and see how long he could go on before he felt like returning home. The home where his wife would no longer be waiting for him, with a warm dinner and asking him about his day. This boring tragedy would be enough to put me to sleep, but I let him go on, all the while just trying to imagine how I could end his life. He was drunk enough that just the slightest shove at the right time in front of the right car could be enough for him to end up with his brain spread all over the pavement. But it bothered to have to rely on so many variables and, anyway, that would be too direct of a influence. So how?
As I tried to think about it, he said I was a great listener and thanked me for being there. He continued then asking me if I had been "dumped" before.
"No," I said. I don't know why I felt like being honest. Maybe it was because I never get to do that here in Heaven now. Maybe because I was going to end this man's life and may as well. The words spilled from me so easily, like they were just waiting for a chance to do so, it was strange. "My darling was sent away without my knowledge or consent. Our last morning together was just like any other. I got told while I was working and when I managed to reach the place, all was done. I never got to say goodbye."
"That is the worst thing," said the human, my first victim, although he didn't know it yet. He nodded sympathetically towards me, and I realized for the first time nobody ever offered me that after you were gone. Not even Emily, you see, because for all her compassion and all her candor, she still never knew how to handle the issue of you in front of me. It was far easier to pretend it never happened. It was probably wiser too, because I couldn't afford to tell her anything but the string of self flagelating nonsense I tell Sera. I don't want you to think ill of her, love. Overall, she just treats me like any other angel, which is still a lot more than many did. It wasn't her fault I was the only angel to lose his husband like I did, or that my husband was everything she was taught was against her very existance. "And what was she? A nurse in the army?"
"He was the most annoying, creative, adorable brilliant angel of them all. A star all on his own right," I said with a chuckle, missing the way the face of my new friend contorted at my side. We have been sitting on a bench and he started pulling away as I sighed. "They said he made a mistake and had to be punished for it. I always thought they went too far, but my opinion was no part of the equation for them to consider. I guess we are similar, after all. Although I was the one who did all the cooking. He was just hopeless for anything that wasn't the sweetest thing you could ever conceive."
That is when he shattered his bottle against my head. To me, it was nothing, as you can imagine. Human made glass could be just paper against my skin. The beer that went over my face and eyes and nose, likewise, were just smelly, not harmful. I slowly turned my head to the human, utterly confused and bewildered about this. Did he suffered some kind of muscle spasm? Was he trying to kill a fly that landed on me and the bottle slipped out of his grasp in the process? You have to understand, dear, my naivite was entirely based on the fact that nobody, ever, had tried to hurt me. I knew that humans did that, that they even killed each other in ocassions in fits of passion, but I never witnessed it and, even if I did, I couldn't even imagine what I have done to offend this human so deeply. We were just having a pleasant conversation in this summer night and, suddenly, this happened.
When I saw his face, it was like I was staring to a completely different man. His face was contorted in such a expression of anger and disgust that you would say I had turned into a giant ball of feces in front of him. I have never seen anyone in Heaven look at anything like that, in all of my years of existence. Not even your siblings when they spoke about you, they were too scared for that. This human was not scared of me. He just hated me, with such raw unconflicted determination that I felt some sort of thrill in front of it. This is the whole range of humanity I haven't been privy to. These are the kind of faces only you get to see.
I wondered if you too ever hated like that down there.
I wondered if I could learn to hate like that.
But before I could ask my companion for any tips, he punched me in the face. My face was merely moved to the side while I could clearly feel his bones shattering inside of his hand. His wailing of absolute pain send shivers down my spine. This wasn't like our nights of intimate moments under the starry night in the garden, love, this was something else. I just couldn't hope to know what then. I did not care at all about the beer dripping down on me.
"You fucking faggot! You broke my hand!" I tilted my head, still so lost. Why was he calling me a bunch of sticks? Yes, I know, I know you must be laughing your tiny little behind at my ignorance, because surely your subjects use vocabulary like that on the regular where you are. Heaven just doesn't have that kind of colorful expressions, so I wouldn't know until later, later, that the reason of this change wasn't he had somehow figured out my husband was the devil himself. His issue was just the usage of me using he in reference to my darling while presenting myself as another man. For that, it was worth using all this rage and try to cause me any physical damage he could. Fascinating, isn't it? Animals don't have that kind of expectations. No, this was an invention entirely by humans, for which they were willing to destroy themselves.
Then it just occured to me that this was my first fight and I almost gasped in wonder, only to be immediately drown in dissapointment. Oh, if only I could return the hit, if only I wans't perfectly aware that was exactly the last thing I needed to do. I could have thrown myself into a true battle, finally get to enjoy being the direct cause of some violence, like I couldn't do in Heaven, instead of merely wishing for it. Why? Why my first opponent willing to attack me had to be a weak, measly, breakable human? Why nothing ever goes out as I wish for?
"You fucking faggot!" he went again. Did he not know any other insult? "I bet you were sweet talking to me to try to get at me, huh?! You and your freak friends! You disgusting pervert, I will fucking teach you what..."
I will never know what this human was meaning to teach me, love. Because while he was walking towards me, his feet got caught in a rock on the floor and he, drunk as he was, wasn't able to avoid falling forward like a freshly cut tree. Directly into the pen I was holding in my hand. The one I was planning to write you a letter with, to vent about my frustrations with how I didn't know how to kill humans, but didn't managed to get any word out when suddenly this human came around.
I don't know how human bodies work. I just know that when you cut them, they bleed, just like any other beast. Their blood runs red and abundant when you hit them on the right spot, as I could only imagine happened then. My hand and shoe were both drenched. The weight of the human was making him bury my pen deeper on his body.
My first thought was that I didn't want to lose my pen. I like this pen. It's smooth, has a nice click when you press the button on top and it had a pleasant weight on my hand when I write. Like all pens in Heaven, the ink never rans out and never skips, making it a true pleasure to make it slide over the paper for each line. A rich dark black that dries instantly. My one true companion through it all. So natural for me as my own hand or fingers.
I didn't want my pen ruined because of a pathetic little human. Sure, I could always just get another one just as good, but why should I? This one is mine. As such, I pushed my pen away from him by moving my hand to a side. While the human finally end up in the ground, blood gushing from his wound, I quickly pulled out a handkerchief to clean up my pen. It quickly turned out that the angelic steel it was made of haven't suffered any damage at all, not even a dent. I sighed in relief when the human gripped my ankle.
"Now what?" I spat, more than a little irritated at this point, but my anger melted away as I came to understand what I was seeing.
This human was dying in front of me. That was way too much blood already. His hands were useless to contain it. Even if I called other humans, they would have a hard time doing anything to save him. He knew it too. Pigs, goats, chicken, horses... they all have that same look when they are about to die. Humans are fundamentally different than all of them, yes. Their minds are too complex for me to control, yes. But at that moment, I could only see another beast slain at my fee. I inclined over him and stared, not moving at all, better than a statue, as his eyes told me the end. I never understood why other angels were so repelled by death. This is such a fascinating moment.
The eyes don't change, not really. The light doesn't reflect any differently on them. But when they are gone, you can't not know it. It's impossible to describe what it is exactly. One second someone was looking through them and the next, it was just eyes, just like it was just hands or a neck or a liver. No longer a life as it was just a body, material to feed the ground. The cycle of life.
I had never witnessed it on a human. I missed when Adam and his wretched immediate progenie died. And now it was too late for me to see it, but at least I had this. This I was able to witness. One less of Father's creation romaing Earth.
"Who is the bundle of sticks now," I let out, smug, before that same old dread I went for in my first mission came back in full force. Wait, this was an accident! I didn't mean to do that! Was I going to be punished for this now?
I waited for some kind of spotlight shine on me and the voice of the Speaker herself talking, announcing that I wasn't allowed to come back to Heaven again, that my punishment wouldn't be to reunite with you in your kingdome but to roam Earth for the rest of eternity. Without you, and without the promise of making any of them pay for taking you away. Just lost, without purpose, without any meaning, all my dreams turned to dust. I could hang around other humans who worshipped you, waiting to see if any of them managed to bring you back again to this realm, but I wouldn't ever be able to make her pay.
She would just stay up there, until the end of times, happy and satisfied, never knowing a single portion of the kind of Hell she condemned me to be in. Never knowing what was to miss someone, so much that it feels you can't even move until they are back, that there is no point in even trying. She did that to me and now she was just going to shake her head, and forget about me? I refuse to accept that. I won't take it, love. I have accepted every insult that has come my way, because I had to, but that one? You would be asking too much out of me.
So I made my portal to my room and jumped inside, claws out, teeth sharper than ever, ready to fight, to kill any angel who even tried to take me down. I would not go down easily, dear. I would take down as many of them as I could if they tried!
I waited... and waited.
But nobody came. I was still alone on my heavenly room.
The next morning, I went to my radio show as usual. Made a few interviews with new souls and put music for everyone to hear. Nobody ever came pushing the doors to take me out. Emily even came around to show me a new toy store that opened. She was just as talkative and friendly as always. Somehow I doubted that she would be able to pretend that well. It wouldn't be until I returned to my room after a completely normal day that it ocurred to me what happened.
Angelic steel. The only kind of metal produced in Heaven. It looks like gold, but it's far stronger than that. It will never lose its shine or get dirty. Originally made in order to fight you, in case you ever wanted a full blown war, but in the meantime we gave it other uses. Such as clocks, sculptures, jewelry boxes, earrings, pins... and pens. Not weapons. At least not any that angels like me can wield.
Could it be that because angelic steel is inherently full with heavenly properties, any death caused by it, even the death of the humans we are meant to protect, is taken as just and not worth punishing? Something that is not disruptive to any natural order? Could this be my loophole at last? I needed to test this out.
I sent another of my cherubs with a box of bombons. From the outside, they would look like any other. Only after bitten the human who ate them would notice all the needles of angelic steel hidden inside. A simple hidden spell would make it so the needles wouldn't even appear until they were already inside, when they wouldn't be able to spit it out. Like I said, I am no expert in human anatomy, but I trust that having their gust full with angelic holes could be bad enough to take another life. If it didn't, then at least the pain would be enough to keep the cherub away from Heaven or require some other kind of punishment.
My cherub came back this morning. They said that they left the box on the mail box of the human, just as I instructed to, and they seemed happy to see the note saying it was from a friend. My little cherub saw them eat the first one through the windows and they must have really liked it, because soon enough they were throwing themselves off the floor and gripping their insides.
This cherub delivered me these news as chirpy as his entire species always was, not a single hint of what they had done anywhere. I barely managed not to laugh on their face as I thanked them, before sending them back to work. Once I was alone again in my study, I couldn't contain my smile to split my face in two. It was so big that it felt like I could barely hold it on my own face. I don't remember the last time I ever had a reason to smile this big.
So I guess I lied to you, my love. In fact, I just came back from killing my third human of the night, not the first. My trusty old pen could not keep being my instrument for it, though, so I had to make my own. A tiny little knife that was easy to hide in my sleeve, but a butcher knows which points are the best to draw blood without needing much else. I even cooked some of their parts for me. Some I took raw. Oh, because that is a rule they just never felt the need to make, darling, can you believe it? We could have always been an entire species entirely of vultures upon humanity, as long we weren't the ones to kill them with our bare hands! Naturally that the way you prepare it is important, but their meat, that forbidden meat I have been eyeing up all this time, felt somehow better than anything I have tasted in paradise. Does Father know, my love? Do you think he made them this delicious on purpose? I am thinking maybe he did. As a kidnness for the predators humans were supposed to rise up above. If they weren't, then predators wouldn't look for them and what would be the point of being on top of the food chain then? Wouldn't get just boring?
But then again, I am not supposed to be part of their food chain. I am not supposed to enjoy their flavor. Father has yet to strike me, though. His favorite creations and he can't be bothered to save them from one angel with far too much free time. I guess that goes to show how much Father's love is worth. In the end, he abandoned them too, just like he did for us.
That is fine by me. Mighty fine even. I don't need his love. Neither of us does, don't we? You can learn to believe on me instead. In our marriage, love. In how this is merely the first step for me to reach you down there and make you regret thinking you could ever get away from me. I will be mean, my darling, yes, but only for so long. I need to make you pay too, just a little bit, just a smidge, because I waited and you took that woman while I wasn't looking. I am sure you will understand, sooner or later. And when I am done, it will be all over. We can be together again, as we were meant to be. Maybe not blessed by God, not anymore, but who cares about that? As long as we have each other, we can do anything. Even spit on his face and burn them all.
We can make them bleed too, love.
Did you know that when you hurt an angelic being with angelic steel, they died too? Have you ever heard about anything more wonderful? I had to see it for myself, of course, and just so happened I knew at least a handful of cherubs that weren't good for me anymore. Oh, those poor things were so glad to see me, thinking I was going to bring them back home. They never saw the stab coming. And if they did, that is fine. They weren't able to do anything about it with just one order from me. Even when their own lives were at stake, they couldn't do anything against my power. Angelic meat was apropriately divine too. A flavor that no predator in Earth, Heaven or Hell would know about. I can't wait to serve it for you. Maybe it can be Sera's own heart on a silver platter, in our bed, for breakfast or just before going to sleep. We will feed each other spoonfuls of her blood. Isn't that about the nicest dreams you can think of?
Heaven does not care about angels killing other angels! Another rule that nobody thought was necesary to make. I suppose it only make sense that both of us would slip through the crack. Only us were never meant to be like them. That is why we belong with each other. That is why you can never be anything else but mine.
This work of mine only proves it further.
Did any of your subjects talked you already about being visited by a redheaded angel? Did they mentioned my ears? Oh, I hope they took notice of my impeccable fashion sense, about how my wings look so neat because they are barely used at all. Maybe you already know that I am coming because of them, and the years have done nothing to make me any nicer. One can only hope, my love, that strikes just a little bit of fear into you. I want that immortal endless heart of yours to beat just a tad louder before I go down to reclaim it. I bet you will taste even more delicious than any other cherub or human could. I will devour you slowly, my dear, my duckie, my treasure. Each bite for each year you touched her. Don't worry, I won't finish it all. I will leave enough for you to give yourself to me, all over again.
I can't wait.
I won't cry for you
I won't crucify the things you do
I won't cry for you
See, when you're gone, I'll still be Bloody Mary
Love
We are not just art for Michelangelo to carve
He can't rewrite the aggro of my furied heart
I'll wait on mountain tops in Paris, cold
J'veux pas mourir toute seule
-"Bloody Mary", Lady Gaga.