Feathers.

a short story about losing one's wings.

The night was approaching the witching hour when I finally stepped into the clearing; the stars were shimmering against their black canvas, the moon was casting its reflection into a small pond, and a gentle glow decorated the scene in a pale, eerie light. A thick forest surrounded the glade,  emanating an air of seclusion to the open area. Somewhere in the distance, the mournful song of a coyote rose up into the sky.

My feathers shivered as I stretched my wings out behind me. A gentle breeze was twirling around my body, and continually it ruffled through the locks of my hair and the barb of my plumage.

Reveling in the sensation, I closed my eyes for a moment and smiled.
Soon, I would be stripped of my wings and the sensation of the wind in my feathers would be stolen.
Soon, I knew, for the dell I now stood in was home to the most dazzling of Sins.

Opening my eyes, I gazed at the moon for a moment and then looked at the ground.
Feathers.
White feathers of all different sizes were scattered across the dirt -- hundreds of them, all lightly skirting about in the breeze.
Amidst the feathers were bones.
I didn't even have to wonder for a moment about what the bones had come from; it was quite apparent as to what they were. Wings.

Mine would join them soon.

Walking bare-footed to the edge of the pool, I gazed down a moment at my reflection and my wings, and then I made eye-contact with myself. A mess of emotions were lurking within those eyes; fear, anxiety, hesitance, doubt --but, most of all, a calm and silent acceptance of the inevitable.

I had arrived at the clearing, and it was time.

She arrived in total silence; I only knew that she was there when I felt fingers brush gently and suddenly across my feathers. Again I closed my eyes.

"You have come," she whispered into my neck, her voice sensual and her breath hot against my skin.
"Lust," I murmured quietly, and I heard a soft laughter from behind me.
"Indeed."

I was suddenly aware of a coldness settling on my skin, and I opened my eyes to discover that my clothes had vanished, leaving me naked. A blush coloured my cheeks, and I subconsciously folded my wings against my back.

 She whispered in that same sultry tone as before, almost hissing as she asked, "Are you ready?"
 I said nothing.

Running her palm along the leading edge of my wings, Lust paused at the base -- where feather met with skin -- and then continued running a finger down my spine. I shivered, closed my eyes again, and concentrated on the feeling.

The fingers trailed back to my shoulders, and in a moment I felt the icy touch of a blade being pressed against me. Lust leaned forward and kissed my neck, and once again my mind was quickly seduced.

"This may hurt," she whispered into my ear, one hand closing gently around my wing to hold it in the place and the other controlling the knife.

It sliced into my flesh. A white hot pain seared through my entire body. I threw my head back and screamed.

 Tears began forming in my eyes and a wave of anguish and hurt crashed on top of me, and still the knife carved further in. It wiggled around at the joint and it sawed through the cartilage, creating an incredibly gruesome noise. I could hear the sinews ripping; I could feel the blood spurting from my veins and speckling across my back. Blood was gushing in rivers from the wound, flowing down my body and staining the feather-strewn ground below.

For a moment my watery eyes dared glance down at my feet, watching as the little white feathers were matted by drop after drop of carmine.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I began to get dizzy and lightheaded, but the deed was done before I could faint. With a sickening pop!, the joint disconnected, separating my shoulder from my wing and causing the latter to fall from Lust's grip and send a flurry of white-and-red feathers dancing up into the air around me. I watched the feathers in horror, not daring to look back at my discarded wing.

I felt empty without the extension; I felt lighter, weaker, broken.

The second wing was next.


After all had been done, I fell to my knees and my hands plunged into the shallows of the pool. I kept my eyes closed, afraid of my reflection, and winced from the pain. The stickiness of drying blood was all around me, and the stench of violence permeated the sweet freshness of nature.

Lust's gentle touch did naught to soothe my torment, and her light laughter sounded almost mocking.
"Beautiful," she commented lightly, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

And then I fainted.
It was done.

Author's Note

please critique. be honest.
reviews are loved; feedback keeps me writing. <3

Reviews

[SR Urie]

Hiya Cyan,
Good story about an angel losing her wings and how it felt; very descriptive.

If I may, this story would be much better if it were in third person instead of first, if the person telling the story was not the angel herself. It isn't logical for the person describing what was going on around her to be able to do so with such detail, even if the angel is all seeing and omnipitant in her perspective. By describing the plight from anyone else's point of view, much more can be said about the ordeal and the setting and the seperate character - Lust in this case - and how that person saw things, plus you can give a reason why the angel was having her wings removed by such a character and the ramifications afterward.
Don't get me wrong, this is an excellent story and very well written. You have a gift my dear. Keep it up! BZ

[therisa]

How can one add anymore than has already been used, to described this beautifully written metaphorical short story. Drawing in the reader, with your descriptive writing, which I feel like, I am there hiding in some nearby shrub, watching the scene unfold before my very eyes. Thank you, for sharing it with us.

[Faraway Sado]

Extremely descriptive. Its quite a good job you have done here by seeing life from point of view of angel and feeling the pain that lust gives it but one thing i want to ask you; what is an angel doing so close to lust when it is nothing but the servant of God.
This idea has evolved a lot; angels wanting to do this, do that in short DESIRING but they cannot desire. They donot feel anything but devotion and feelings of being just a servant.
But of course i will not directly criticize what you have written because its quite a good piece and when it comes to description you are one hell of a descriptive writer. i mean this writing completely scared the hell outta me.

[alice]

First,I love the metaphor and the suspense. Nothing is more beautiful than stolen innocent or tainted. Second, punctuation errors and unnecessary adjectives.

[Angel's Lady]

Lust...yeah, the eternal debaucher of all that is right and good, huh?! haha Great write! I swear I almost felt that pop! :)

[Dawn Jones]

The word 'naught' is too old for very nearly any piece of writing. 'Nothing' would work better.

I freaking LOVED this.
I could feel a shiver in my shoulders and down my spine when I read about Lust cutting the wings from the angel's back. You did a really good job building the scene and I think, for the most part, the words you used are perfect for the whole thing.

[Heavran]

Metaphorical and amazing! the detail to sensation and imagery was phenomenal! And the story was set up perfectly. It is a story that will be remembered for a lifetime because everyone loses their wings in one form and fashion. Being as the assailent was lust, it also stands as a wonderful morbid assurance that we will all face her sometime and giving in to her reaps consequences. Very well written, lovely. :) definately one of my favorites!

[Corvus]

Very beautiful, and sad at the ending. A very good metaphorical story for losing one's wings. The way you named a character 'Lust' really leaves the reader to imagine what you think it really means to lose one's wings. Very well written.