Disclaimer: I do not own GW! And if you cant guess which characters from GW I used than too bad for you!
"The Wings of Death"
He walked along the God for saken land
blood Covered his face, his long hair, and
his victorious scythe.
He was tired, worn and wounded from his battle
but still he trudged through the desert whether he
was hallucinating or just had the erge to go on
we will never know.
He was still wearing his joker mask; bright smile
on his face appearing to have no care in the world.
Even though he was in the most horrible place
the joker mask stayed on and the smile
never left his face.
He just walked with no purpose, no place
in the world, no reason, he just kept walking
and walking, on and on.
The Angel watched the boy as he walked
unaffected by the boys pride, or his scarlet
eyes.
The Angel just watched the same expression on
his face, wings not fully spread out but on the
verge of doing so, pondering whether or not to
kill him.
The Angel, the only Angel sent to earth to kill
all he saw fit to die, being an Angel he was
the perfect soldier, almost untouchable, stealthy and light
on his feet but strong and muscular. He wore his own
mask.
The Angel's mask was an expressionless one and though
he seemed to have no emotions, no soul, with those
empty cobalt eyes he really did it was just his
mask smothered them every time he put it on and
for a few moments he felt nothing. So there he stood
on the tall statue over the desert following the braided
boy's movements.
The boy then abruptly stopped, stood up strait, and
clutched his scythe pulling it into a fighting position.
He looked up and stared strait into the Angels eyes.
Their eyes should never had met, but they did.
Scarlet and Cobalt eyes locked in battle
neither backing down, each waiting for the other
to back off. Nothing happened, there was no
sound just their eyes locked in the death
glare.
They needed no words for some how they
were able to tell what the other was thinking.
The Angel pulled out his sword and adopted a
fighting stance still keeping his gaze fixated on the
boys eyes.
The Angel swooped down off the monument attacking
the boy, the boy blocked to the best of his ability but
the Angel managed to slash his smirking face.
The boy was amazed at the Angel's lightning fast speed,
while the Angel was mesmerized by the boys eyes. His
eyes stayed happy and smiling even in the heat of battle.
Then Angel too engulfed in his thoughts barely evaded
the attack prepared by the boy.
The Angel now staying still in the air and the
boy standing where the Angel had been.
The boy removed his mask and let the
smile fall flat into the frame of his face
forming a frown. He, one of the best rebel fighters
of the war was allowing a supposed majestic,
fragile creature to beat him in combat. They
clashed again, the boy fighting more fiercely
but when they stopped for breath he realized
that the Angel was still unscathed. How could
this be! He looked at himself, he was
cut and bruised yet the Angel was
unharmed.
The Angel hated his job and fighting this boy
made him wake up to this fact. It made him realize
even the most formidable opponents didn't stand
a chance against him, he now saw himself suitable
for death, so he would now delete himself from
this barren world.
The boy came up from his thoughts to see
The Angel put away his bloody sword and shake
out of his fighting mode. The Angel still kept his
mask in place even as he dropped his guard.
This greatly puzzled the boy and
so he too stood up strait, taking an interest
in what the Angel was doing.
The Angel spoke, but with the stony cold voice
of a murderer, he said monotonly, " I've taken
so many lives that I have forgotten the real value of life.
I don't deserve the privilege of living so as my final act
in this life that was bestowed to me I will take one final life.
My own." This shocked the boy immensely almost to
the point that he collapsed of disbelief.
With out further delay the Angel tore through his
own chest with his bare hand and removed his heart.
His perfect soldier mask began to crack only to reveal
a wry, little, almost undetectable smile. He then said
in a weary voice laden with all the lives he had taken
" Keep it, so that I can be reborn and atone for
all my wrongs against the world, we will
finish our match then." He then took
his last breathe and fell backwards
smiling as his feathers began to wilt.
The boy took the heart from the dying
Angel, crying and leaving spots over his
unmarked body other than the gaping
chest wound and the small stream of blood.
The boy in all his life had never cried
up until now. Even now he cried for a
complete stranger, a stranger who tried
to kill him. But none the less he cried, for
it is the saddest thing to see an Angel die,
even an Angel of war, death and destruction
such as this one. The boy picked up the Angels
cold, lifeless body and continued his march.
He walked along the God for saken land
blood covered his face, his long hair, and the soulless
body in his arms.
He was tired, worn and wounded from his battle
but still he trudged through the desert crying
for the loss of his assailant, allowing the tears
to stream down his face.
He had removed his joker mask; his face now
had a frown caressing it with a look as if he
carried burdens that weighted more than the Angel
in his arms, sodden by a mix of tears and blood.
He just continued on, in hopes of being able
to carry out the Angels request. Hopes of being
locked in another death glare with those
cobalt eyes. The eyes that belonged to the barer
of the wings of death.
