The windows of his dorm room were wide open, he had booted up his handheld console, had an McD*nalds food delivery on the way, and was about to slot in his game cartridge. Just a normal autumn weekday.
A grand burst of light appearing in the corner next to his plastic trash can sent him tumbling from his chair.
Intense, supernovae levels of heat threatened to swallow the tiny room, the wind emanating from the light blowing Alfred's cheap curtains off their hinges, knocking over his assortment of action figures from the shelves and tearing holes in all of his superhero posters and calendar. He was also pretty sure that his sweatshirt and jeans had disintegrated, though thankfully he couldn't smell burning flesh.
When the mysterious figure revealed itself, though, a greater terror presented itself.
"Behold!" the biblically accurate angel cried, brandishing its seven massive wings, gigantic rotating rings of gold, and billion huge eyes. "Do not be afraid, son of man, for I am an ange-"
Alfred fainted.
When he regained consciousness, the writhing mass of wings, rings, eyes and scorching light was still floating in the corner. Had he been transported to another world? Was this a video game boss? Was he still alive?
He opened his mouth, meaning to say something, but a very high pitched 'hyuck' was what came out instead. Normally, he'd be embarrassed - not to mention he was essentially naked - however this time, he was attempting to ensure his bladder didn't empty. Attempting to hide behind his swivel chair, he realised it had been blown to smithereens, and looked more like a swivel stump.
Tragically, the eldritch abomination didn't disappear or appear with an HP bar above it, merely shifted around, meaning that all pairs of eyes were fixated on him. "Son of man," he - Alfred didn't really have much time in his panic to think about whether the creepiest thing he'd ever seen was a dude or not - boomed. Alfred's blue eyes could only follow the spinning rings of eyes. Could his roommates hear this…thing? "Do not be afraid, for as I am an angel. I have merely come to offer you a message."
"T-T-This is the m-most terrifying moment of…of…of my…existence!" Alfred shrieked. Why did the angel sound so scary? Why did the angel sound British? It had to be the tea in his Japanese roommate's cake that he'd had on Tuesday.
How was it not a final boss? Where was its HP bar? Angels didn't look like that, they were cute, lithe things with wings and white togas.
All of the angel's eyes blinked at once, making Alfred feel catatonic in his terror, which caused him to let out another scream. "Son of - son of man," he said, clearly sounding disconcerted. "Fear not. There is nothing to be afraid of."
Alfred ducked underneath his bed, not even having time to mourn his scorched B*tman bedspread. He hadn't shaken so much since he - someone who had never seen drugs - had signed a form for his college to confirm he'd never used drugs.
"I am not here to harm you, merely to deliver a message."
"C-C-Could you take a different form? P-Please?" He'd probably already lost his ticket to Heaven, but if he was to stay conscious for another moment the angel needed to not look like that. "Please?"
There was a silence, marked only by the sound of shining light, wing flapping and ring rotating like some grotesque theme park ride. "Very well," the angel said.
There was another burst of light, one that could have blinded Alfred had he not managed to shut his eyes just in time. A sound of something falling on his carpeted floor, then only the wing flapping noise resumed. Had the angel lost all his terrifying eyes and rings?
"You may emerge without fear, son of man. I have changed my form."
Right arm held over his field of vision, he gingerly emerged, squinting behind his glasses. What he saw in place of the terror was a much lovelier being. As an archaeology major, the familiar depictions of extraordinary beauty on old artifacts started to come back into mind when he gazed upon the angel's new form.
A halo that framed his light blond hair, cute thick eyebrows that reminded him fondly of his roommate's Shiba Inu, ivory skin that matched his soft looking wings, a white toga that hugged his slender form, and most striking of all, huge, pious green eyes.
"W-Woah," Alfred mumbled, gripping onto his burnt bedpost for completely different reasons. "That's your angel form?"
"Hm? Oh, yes, son of man," the angel said - even his voice had quietened and lost its ethereal boom, yet still retained the British accent. "I do not assume this form too often, as I believe it diminishes my character when communicating with mortals. That is besides the point, though," he blinked, and Alfred fought back an urge to beg him to blink again. Good God was it so much better in this form. "May I deliver my message? S-Son of man, you are far too close."
He was hook, line and sinker. Whatever doomsday message the angel was gonna deliver didn't really matter anymore if he could be with this angel. "Woah. I mean, uh, hey there," he grinned, turning on what he thought was his trusty American charm, "Come here often?"
"Pardon? No, not at all, son of man." The angel looked baffled - even that looked cute on him. "I am merely here to deliver a mess-"
"You know, you can call me Alfred! Alfred Fu - Alfred F Jones. You? Your name?"
"Er, I believe my name was assigned as Arthur, however that is irrelevant to my mission t-"
"Arthur, huh? Wow, as cute as your name suggests!"
"Pardon? Son of man - er, Alfred F Jones, please, allow me to deliver my message, I must be on my way-"
He shook his head vigorously, cowlick struggling to keep up as he adjusted his glasses and stared straight into the angel's beautiful eyes. Sometimes less really was more. "No, no, you can't do that!" he exclaimed, dumbly reaching out his arms. Though his mind was partly clouded due to the angel - no, Arthur's - impeccable beauty, touching him would probably mean that he'd contract twelve degree burns or something. "You can't leave! You just got here!"
"Alfred F Jones, I am merely but a messenger, once I have served my purpose I must depart. I believe my presence repelled you at first."
"That's cuz you didn't look as beautiful as this!" Damn, even when Arthur was cross, he looked amazing. "Let's sit on my sofa - wait, no, it's burnt. What about my bed - no, that too. Uhh…"
"I…I do apologise for the, erm, extensive property damage," he started to speak, but was quickly interrupted by Alfred snapping his fingers. "Yes?"
"That's it! Stay for a little while because you pretty much destroyed my dorm room! And my clothes!"
"…I do apologise greatly for that, Alfred F Jones, but I must deliver your message-"
"Yeah! You can deliver the message and stay afterwards! Come here," he chided with a desperate waggle of his finger. Not really seeing an alternative, he sat down on the remains of his bedsheets, dorky S*perman boxers only, and gave him a weak smile. "You can deliver your message here."
The angel's eyebrows furrowed, but he sat down nonetheless. Alfred greedily drank in his beauty before Arthur cleared his throat and began to speak. "Son of m-"
"You can call me Alfred F Jones, cutie."
"Son of man," Arthur said, looking at him sternly, but coupled with his incredible form and voice that didn't sound like it belonged in a slasher film, the effect was greatly diminished.
Unfortunately, he seemed to register this fact at the same time as Alfred did, and lifted his left leg to step off the ruined mattress, giving him an excellent view that he had only a split second to enjoy before ducking underneath his bed in horror as light enveloped Arthur once more.
"Behold!" The wings, the billion eyes and the menacing rotating rings were back, along with the voice that sent chills through his blood. "Son of man, heed my words carefully. By the last remnants of the autumn season, if you do no - son of man? Son of m…Alfred F Jones? Are you conscious?"
Whilst every single drop of blood in his face disappeared, he watched as a billion eyes rotated to look at his quivering form underneath his bed.
Alfred fainted.