No Yugi-oh owning… (Other chapters WILL be a LOT longer this is just the introduction.)
The Exile: Falling Angel
I fell, tumbling from the sky; my wings desperately trying to unfold but chains bound them tight. I knew it was useless, that I'd never be free in time, that I was going to smack into the ground because I was exiled to earth, in it- if I do not free myself soon. Desperately I twist and turn, trying hard to find a way to tear those blasted chains off my wings! No luck. I plummet to the earth, a place I no longer wish to see again, at least not so close up. The earth was getting closer, closer with every second I spent plummeting. Can you die again if you're already dead, oh yes, and those blasted Virtues (1) were sitting in their fifth order dorms watching. Bastards. They'll pay for this, I swear it on the ninth heaven, those angels, no, ALL angels are going to pay for this.
…That is, if I get free.
Time was running out, I had about forty-five seconds to free my wings, catch a safe updraft and NOT plummet to my second death. Forty-four, forty-three, forty-two. I thought hard, how could I possibly free my wings! Then I thought of my only solution, a desperate solution.
I knew this was going to be painful, VERY painful, but it was my only option. My hands were bound, tied with an extremely itchy rope. I had freed them previously; thank the devil himself for that. I had a steal claw on my left hand, a steel, pointy, sharp claw. I raised my arm and, closing my eyes tight ripped it into my wing. I screamed as it shattered flesh and bone alike, blood dripping excessive amounts. Thirty-two, thirty-one. I had not hesitated to do the exact same thing to my other wing, wincing, screaming and tumbling through the sky. My arm was covered in blood, wings filled with pain, tears of hurt and anger streamed from my eyes, yet I knew the pain had yet to stop. Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen. I spread my crimson wings as wide as they would go, ignoring the absolute torture it cost. The wind spread into them, smashing into my wounds, making my head grow dizzy and faint. Nine. My body jerked up for a brief moment. Seven. My wings can't take the pressure and crumbled. Four. I flew in every direction, the wind in complete control of my body. Two. Can no longer see, too dizzy, too much pain. One. CRASH. I land, soft enough to live, hard enough to know my wings bent back, my legs stretched over my head, which is buried in the ground. Arm-twisted behind my back. That was the position I would wake in, not counting the tumble I had upon landing. Finally I gave into the pain, not that I had a choice, and ebbed away from consciousness. But not from life.
(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)
(1) There are nine Orders. Seraphim, being the first and highest within angel ranks. Angel, being the ninth and lowest. Virtues were the fifth order. Strangely enough, there were no Demon orders. Are we supposed to believe they weren't organized? Meh… P.s. Archangels will be showing up soon as well. They are the Eighth Order, second to lowest. Hmmm, go figure, we only know of the lowliest of the angels. *sigh*