A Blessed Curse

A brief fantasy angel story

She screamed. An anguished cry escaped her throat in an endless howl.  That gruesome image burned into her eyelids and into her mind like a merciless torture. All she could see was the sickening wound. The blade protruding from his chest, and her eyes illuminated with the slick of his crimson blood.  In her room, the walls fissured and cracked, broken from her fists slamming into them. Her own blood lay everywhere. It dotted the mahogany floor, smeared across the blue walls and dripped from her slender body.  “Funny,” she thought, since not a single scratch is evident upon her skin. She had done everything and everything to end the pain. She slit her wrists, only to watch them seal shut seconds after. She broke bones, only to hear them crack into place. She had smashed, cut, and bruised every inch of her body in any way possible. Even so, she collapsed in the decimated room without a single gash.  Silent upon the stained carpet she cried.  She had not only lost him, watched him die, but her once divine gift was now a demonic torture. Naya’il: an angel, cast from heaven, destined to live life alone… forever.

Author's Note

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