Fallen angel


You see that guy over there? Five-ten, pale-skin, a bit on the thinner side? Red hair, kinda messy and semi-long. Green eyes, inhumanly intelligent-looking?
Okay, fine. You see the three sets of wings then? No?
Oh, right, he just folded them in. Right, you catch that fancy-looking tattoo on his back with wings?

Oh, come on! They’re right there!
sighs Fine. Then what about that blue-ish tattoo of a sword on his lower left arm? No? Not even the three golden-ish bands tattooed on his upper right arm?

Oh, right – humans can’t see angels unless they really want to be seen.


A lot of things can make someone fall from grace. To make an angel fall from God’s grace, however, takes quite a lot. Like, say, sleeping and shacking up with a demon of the eight rank, per say.
Now God _does _forgive those who repent and regret their actions, that’s all part of His plan and graciousness, but when a first rank angel of death (a former Seraph none the less!) who has walked this earth as long as there’s been humans decides that his duties are boring God get’s a little… pissy.
I mean, sure, there were plenty of warnings. Like, for instance having the rank of first class angel of death stripped from you. Or being reduced to being a guardian angel instead of one of His most trusted warriors.
Sure, He _could _take the flashy blue sword Haratron, boot you out of Elysium and yank that halo, but when having enough power to walk all planes for at least twenty millennium without even breaking a sweat you don’t get that worried, especially knowing that in due time God will forgive you for your mistakes. It’s just… teen rebellion.

So, those three pairs of wings will just have to be folded into a tattoo for the time being, the sword stuck to your skin, just like the halo and all of the wards. Just be human.

Pfft. Who the hell am I kidding? That would be boring. The old man will let me back in service in due time, after all the war is coming. Converting humans and slaying demons is a part of the job, and sometimes I just get sick to death with it all.
Bad pun.
But seriously. All “oh, die you filthy devilspawn, revert back into the shadows,” is really getting on my nerves.

So, this millennium I’m taking a break, an overdue vacation. I have served faithfully since the dawn of time. I’m going to do just whatever I feel like, and then I’m going to spend the rest of my time atoning for my sins. God knows if I’ll succeed.
Oh the puns. Gotta stop it with the puns.

I am a fallen angel. My name is never to be uttered until I am redeemed. The humans call me Thomas. The last child I guarded insisted on calling me Tomato, supposedly because of my red hair. Even now I keep an eye on him. Old habits die hard.


The Devil's Thrill Lady