Angels Are Real by Stig Rudeholm

Their Father was dying, they knew that now. Several millennia of hatred and violence in His name, stirred up by false prophets, had been slowly killing Him. As the number of True Believers shrank, so did the Lord’s strength. With a heavy heart, Gabriel approached the bed. “Father…”

The old man shook his head feebly. Tears were running down his face as he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I tried, Gabriel… I tried…”

“You did, Father. I know you did.” Gabriel leaned down and reverently kissed his Father’s forehead. “Is it time, then?” he asked softly. “Has the time finally come to do what we discussed so long ago?”

—–

A crowd was gathering along the edge of the crater. The heat generated by the impact was immense. But if there was one thing you could always count on with humans, it was that in the fight between curiosity and survival instinct, curiosity always won.

Something stirred among the smoke at the bottom of the pit. It was increasingly obvious that what had until now been believed to be a meteor, was in actual fact something else entirely.

As the smoke cleared, the silhouette of a crouching man appeared. But it was not human. It couldn’t be. It was way too big…

Taller than the tallest man, yet impossibly agile, it moved with superhuman grace as it stood up, taking in the wide-eyed stares of the people around it. The being was at the same time amazingly beautiful and absolutely terrifying to behold. It was surrounded by a glow that you felt rather than saw, raw power radiating from its entire frame. From its back, two large feathered wings unfolded slowly, like the petals of a blooming flower greeting the sun. The people gaped in wonder as the wings stretched, flexed, and then relaxed. Like the wings of an angel.

“Dad, look! It’s an angel!” a small girl said, tugging on her father’s sleeve, pointing.

“Look honey… It’s an… It’s an angel…” the man stammered, dumbfounded. His right arm was going limp. He fought to keep it straight, to keep hold of the phone. Like dozens of others, he had started filming as soon as the “meteor” had hit. But now the phone was getting heavier and heavier in his hand.

He wasn’t aware of what was happening around him, as his gaze was locked on the strange and wonderful creature below, but the rest of the crowd were also feeling it. Eyes and mouths wide open, the people were mesmerized by the unseen force emanating from the being in the centre of the crater.

Some had managed to press “send” before the invisible force had hit them. Within seconds, the net was buzzing.

#angelsarereal #secondcoming #praisethelord

—–

Gabriel stood, flexing his wings. As he looked at the sheep assembled around the rim of the crater, his heart burned with contempt.

The angel strode purposefully towards the crowd, drawing an enormous sword from its sheath. The blade shone with the light of a thousand suns. Spellbound by the spectacle unfolding before them and unable to look away, the people closest to the edge were blinded instantly, their eyes vaporized in their sockets. Where it had been eerily silent just a moment earlier, the air erupted with the panicked screams of men, women, and children. When the killing began, it was a slaughter.

Gabriel screamed. Tears born of equal measures sadness and rage flowed from his eyes. He swung his mighty sword left and right, cutting down swathes of people with every stroke. God’s final words, whispered through His dying breath, echoed in his mind… “Wipe them out… All of them…”

 

Copyright Stig Rudeholm © 2014

 

This version of the story has, with the Author’s permission, been very slightly edited from the Original.

Twitter @grakkam