Angel of Demons

Once there were three angels named Time, Grief, and Pain who went down to earth with a mission to free a captive named Human from the cruelty of an exiled angel named Misery. However, the angels were not the best of friends, and they had their own differences. Time led the team; he was patient and determined. Pain was melancholic. In fact, she felt compelled to accomplish the mission as she didn't want to leave the comforts of heaven. Grief was indecisive. One moment he would agree with Time, but would side with Pain in an instant whenever the melancholic angel decided on her own. Finally, the three angels faced Misery Their hearts were crushed to see Human in deep affliction. Furious, Time demanded Misery to release Human. Enraged to see the most powerful angel, Misery grabbed Human and pointed a knife at the latter's throat. He offered Time to hand over Pain as a bargain, but Time refused. Instead, Time took out his sword and prepared to kill the enemy. Unexpectedly, Pain rushed to Misery's side and threw her arms around him as Grief took Human without wasting any second. Time couldn't believe his eyes. Pain revealed that she and Misery were secret lovers and confessed that she was the sole accomplice to all of Misery's crimes. Taking all the chances he could get, Time fought with Misery as Grief struggled to take Pain away from the enemy. When Time finally defeated Misery, he asked Pain to return home with them, but Pain refused. With a heavy heart, Time and Grief went back to heaven with Human. After an exhausting and long journey, the three finally arrived at heaven's gate. They waited for the gatekeeper to open it, but the gateway remained closed. Eventually, the gatekeeper appeared and allowed only one angel whose foot had touched the earth to return to heaven. Human was caught in a dilemma and had to choose between Time and Grief. It was an extremely arduous decision for him to make since he wanted both angels who saved him to enter the gates of heaven with him. Much to their surprise, Grief took a step back. Before he threw himself back to earth, he spoke softly in their bewildered eyes. "You have suffered more than you could bear, Human. You need Time to heal." *** My name is Amber—not my real name. The truth is; I don't really know who I am, where I came from, and who my parents are. I just woke up one day on the side of the street, covered in my own blood and gasping for air. The dogs and cats nearby were licking my hands and feet like I was their most sumptuous meal ever. No, I wasn't a rotten corpse yet. In fact, I could still feel my heart beating, though I could sense it fading. If I had only known my time of death, I would rather rot in hell than in the garbage. Crap! Slowly, I opened my eyes and got up realizing that I was lying on an imaginary bed with strangers around me. They were wearing white robes and were looking at me with narrowed eyes. Their faces were so close to mine I could smell their breaths. "Would you all mind getting out of my face? You look creepy with your stinky nostrils," I said in a low voice. The strangers looked at each other and moved backwards. And oh, did I mention they all looked the same? Funny. "Ahhh, I miss fresh air. So . . . where am I?" I asked. "Welcome to heaven." One of the strangers stepped forward. This is ridiculous! I was starting to think that this place they called heaven is a racist for having no women. My eyes narrowed. "And you are?" I asked. The stranger cleared his throat. "Welcome back to heaven, Micca. My name is Barachiel, head of the army—" he answered, extending his hand. "My name is Amber. Not my real name though, but it's definitely not Micca either," I cut him off. "And your name sounds hilarious just like the name you're calling me." Barachiel ignored my comment. "Archangel Micca, have you finished your mission?" "I told you my name is Amber. And even if it's not my real name, don't you ever call me Micca!" I snapped. "And what mission are you talking about? Why am I in heaven? Am I dead? Holy moly. I never thought that selling drugs in my whole life would send me to heaven! I should have done eviler things then, huh? Perhaps I could go to the rooftop and smoke a cigarette while watching the beautiful view of the earth down below!" I scoffed. He looked at me and smirked. "Have you forgotten why you were sent to earth? This vessel you are using is not yours, remember? Sooner or later, you'll give up on her," he said. Triggered, I immediately got up and out of the . . . whatever kind of bed. "What are you talking about?" I said, rolling my eyes. "I am just a human being with a fake name, and all I do is close a deal with those drug people and—" "And you have corrupted this girl's body, soul, and spirit," he cut me off. "You were too busy enjoying the lust of the earth that you fell for it until you lost your mind. Drugs, theft, s*x, murder . . . name it. You did it." "That is absolutely bull—" "And profanity. The earth has consumed you with its evil nature, and you have forgotten that you used to be pure and the most powerful angel in heaven." "You must be crazy. Most powerful angel, huh? If I was the angel you're bubbling about, then why don't I remember it? Why don't I have wings? Why don't I have powers? Why don't I have that white ring light on top of my head?" "Enough! As the head of the army, I will send you back to earth. You shall complete your mission or else, we shall all die." "You tell me what the hell is going on, or I won't think twice before shooting you with this damn pistol!" I raised my voice, pointing my finger at Barachiel while the other angels were anxious. I almost laughed looking at their faces. They reminded me of those yellow minions in a movie. I chose to smirk instead. “Shoot me with what? Your finger?” Barachiel scoffed. I looked at my finger and realized I wasn’t holding a gun. Surprised, I searched for my weapon in my pocket but couldn’t find it. Before I was able to talk further, the smirking Barachiel touched my forehead with his forefinger. In an instant, I suddenly froze and started to see images in my head—a vivid flashback.