Encounter with an Angel
posted 19/08/2023
I had seen Angels before; they had spoken to me in dreams, imparting unto me wisdom or warnings. Their mission is to lead lost souls astray, and to them, I was a lost soul. But it was by no accident that I was lost - rather an act of servitude towards a greater power than their heavenly ruler.
He was standing there in the crowd after we had given a briefing. The glowing white of his skin made him stand out amongst the reds and oranges typical of the locals. I'd never seen one of his kind here before, as they usually prefer to appear in less corporeal realms. Needless to say, I was thrilled by the opportunity to play with one on my home turf.
Anchored to a wall via a rope around the neck, I made sure he could not leave the room. I own a small hacksaw for occasions like this, though I'd never before tried this on a divine entity. I forcefully grabbed his wrist and started hacking away at his arm, just above the elbow. His blood was a blue colour, like that of an arachnid, and it had a strangely sticky consistency. He remained surprisingly quiet as I did it, though I could see a panic bubbling behind his eyes. He murmurred prayers towards his God under his breath. I suppose it is in their nature to remain hopeful, even when faced with tragedy. Once I had removed both arms, I laid them out on the table and shifted my attention towards the part I was most excited for. Angel wings are so soft and their features almost luminescent. Angling my saw towards the shoulder blade, I started cutting through the base of the wing. It was far easier to saw through than the arms, presumably due to the hollow bone structure common in winged creatures. By the time I was done he was crying - real Angel tears! Few, but valuable. They glistened like opal in the light. I left him there, as I had taken what I wanted and was satisfied.
Angel feathers lose their luminescence when severed from the host, unfortunately. They retain their softness however, so they made a fine material to fashion a jacket from. As for the arms, I ate a slice out of curiousity. The texture was like that of normal flesh but the taste was far sweeter - not dissimilar from that of mango fruits. When I returned to the room a day later, the rope was cut and the Angel was gone. I don't know where he went, nor do I particularly care. I guess his God answered his prayers after all.