Human War

The Angel lied still looking up to see his killer cleaning his blades. One wing sat lifeless behind the killer. The other was ripped in half from a swing of the very blades he now cleans. The Angel was bare and the only thing coving his male body were feathers ripped from his own wings and blood. The blood oozed from a slash across the angel’s chest, with the last bit of life the Angel reached up with his left hand grabbing hold of his killers pant leg as blood flowed down his arm from cuts all over him. The Angel tried to speak but could only get out a whisper, “Humans will…never…win this war. You are our…tools…nothing more.” Laughing, the Angel’s grip tightens as blood coughed up with his laugh. The killer, covered in shadows caused by the trees, lifted one of his blades in to the air and forced it down wards with all his might. Twisting it as it entered the Angel’s body and waited till the Angel’s grip loosens from his blood-coved pants. The Angel’s hand dropped to the ground as the killer pulled the blade from the corpse, ripping the flesh as it pulled free. A cry could be heard from far away, like an echo. The killer stepped back from his kill and looked up to the havens. With fists raised high he screamed, “Cry you evil beasts…for soon you will all be in the same position.” The shadowed figure turned and stepped out from the tree and walked to the cliff. Looking down over the city he watched the sun rise over the mountains. The shadowed face faded as the sun appeared revealing a young man in his twenties. He wiped the blood and sweat from his face and placed one of his blades over his shoulder. “This will be a good day to die.” He smiled and turned back to the trees. Taking one last look at his kill he smiled and stepped into the trees and one step closer to his own death.