“What are your final words?” The demanding voice spoke from above, every words clear and booming over the audiences despise and anger.

Bryce didn’t move. His head hung low as those chains held him by his wrists, head down and forward. His hair was thin, white and wispy, like string on its last mark. Body, once taller and slim, now skinny and abused. Wings were folded and covered in cloth, but were weighted down by the heavy material and sore from fighting. They may have been stripped and ugly, the feathers weighting him down and those limbs of once gorgeous would be ugly as a troll’s face. Prison clothes were torn, skin gone pale and ribs plastered to it. Breath was slow. Heart had slowed to a struggling feeling, a way where you can feel it beating against your left upper chest, straining to have air and be free of this pain. But Bryce never stopped. He absorbed the pain and it bled on his skin, kissed him in the form of purple bruises, left a numbing in his gut and outstanding headache still lasting.

He swallowed, a light crackle. It was dry, and when the saliva of his own, nothing really, coated it, it was disgusting. There was the aftertaste of old saliva, a gritty feeling in the angel's throat.

“Well?” his leader challenged the prisoner to talk, even if he had no tongue or jaw. He didn’t care if he was tried for innocent or guilty, this angel had betrayed their own kind by helping the enemy and fugitives. In the leader’s opinion, he should have the angel drown in its own blood water. Boil the sinner like a damned chicken in the frier. The leader's name was Bertis, top of his class and in line to rule under his late father. He was known to be strict, on those who were already fortunate or poor as wet paper.

Bryce swallowed again and lifted his head slowly. His bones in his neck cracked and shifted, the old pain and not much movement was its reasoning. He gave a slight wheeze, coughing a little. The audience, which were a full community of angels; guards, townspeople, regular citizens, all waiting for the betrayer's sentence before death came through the sky for him. Some were enraged by the news, others wanting to see a death on the angel already, some terrified that such a thing would happen.

Bryce’s family was there and Bryce knew it himself. He could feel his father's disappointing eyes on him. They were proud in the past, when Bryce was going to fulfill his family and give them pride when he would’ve brought the fugitives back in chains. But...it seemed he was brought back instead with an unsettled outlook from his own kind. His mother, tears were in her eyes. She was held in her husband's embrace, head on his breast as she wept miserably for such a thing to happen. She had cried from the night before, but fresh tears were made immediately by the look of one of her children hated and in metal bracings. Her brown hair was a mess while her eyes were puffy and pink.

Bryce’s little sister, Merritt, was there as well. She was silenced by her birth parents and forced to watch this horror. All the other children were told by their parents to hate the prisoner, that to never be like him or your butt will be burned under God’s wrath. She remembered Bryce and her playing long ago, the two playing in the cornfields and laughing every day in the sun. At night they collected fire flies and acted as though they were on adventures in the night, looking into the forest just surrounding the town.

She always looked up to Bryce, the tall brother who gotten white hair from their father and blue eyes from their mother. His smile made her happy and radiant. His storytelling of monsters and heroes, some of which from books or his own made her believe in the happiness of the world and dangers. The imaginations he infected her with, the monsters, the heroes, the lessons on life itself. She was infected by his sickness, and she enjoyed it all too much. Her white hair clung to her shoulders, cheeks pale as she saw this man, this storyteller and adventurer she knew so much, on his knees and unable to fight back. It was like watching an animal being abused for nothing it ever did.

There had to have been something else. Something that was different than this. A better explanation. Why?

This was her older brother, who taught her so much even when her parents couldn’t or afford school time. He would never be put for treason. Never. Merritt would not believe it one bit.

Bertis nudged a guard impatiently and told him to go to the prisoner and make him talk. The guard obeyed, walking out on the arena’s sand and to the prisoner. His steps were slow and loud in the quiet arena place, Bryce not moving or flinching. His wings folded as he made a close distance to the prisoner, careful and watching Bryce like a hawk.

He grabbed hold of Bryce’s shoulder and shook him, saying in a gruff voice of his. “Come on, mate, we don’t have all day.” His metal fingers gripped the younger, burning hard into him.

Bryce looked at him with his blue eyes, he gave a slow breath. That look told the guard to let go, Bryce trying to stand then. The guard was generous at least to help him up, holding his arms that were held behind him, chains clinking on the stone and against each other. They were made into a ‘V’ bent dreadfully.

Bryce stood on one shaky leg, then the other. The guard had let go of his arm and stepped back, watching as Bryce managed a few steps to Bertis. He stopped and huffed, chest heaving on the pressure of his ribs. They were broken and it hurt to breath.

Those blue eyes turned up to the leader, chin tilting them up. A tired, fatigued look went straight to anger and malicious wrath on the angel’s face. He was tired and he wanted to glare at his leader before he was going to have his head cut for a disappointment.

Bertis raised his eyebrows at him. “Well? What is it, traitor?”

Bryce had no words in his head. Well, he had many words and sentences forming to use on every living thing here, all not nice and quite rude for an angel, who is supposed to be humble under his Lord and his son. Well, that's what you get when you deal with demons who are already good and still have a potty mouth.

He glared at Bertis. He knew so much that this angel had, so much that he knew and some he didn't. This was like leading a blind man down to a hole. He has been leading this place to darkness, lying to them and feeding them scraps of disgusting boiled fat. Plain out lies, executions on those who object and give no mercy to the poor and weak. He used this village because they weren't strong and they all gave in. Everyone did. Everyone was caught blind under his watch while Bryce was gone on his mission.

Only the male angel wasn't deceived or fooled.

The words then came, finally in the dying silence. Everyone had to lean in to hear, straining to listen to what the angel had, if he would plead or say stinking words to their grand leader.

“I...I did my duty and served the Lord and his name…” Bryce croaked from his dry throat. This wasn't his voice, but that's what happens after being beaten dry. The words burned in his throat and mouth, it exploded inside of him and he had to let it free. Free for every soul to hear it.

Bertis stared, confusion riddling him for a moment. “Excuse me?”

Bryce repeated them again and again. “I did my duty and served the Lord and his name...I did my duty and served the Lord and his name...I did my duty and served the Lord and his name…” His head fell limp as those words repeated over and over, in his head and on his lips. His legs were weak as well and he fell to his knees, light pants.

Words got out to the audience, confusion riddled as well in the waiting crowd. They repeated them to each other, wanting to find an answer to such a sentence used. What did he mean ‘did his duty’? What did he mean by this sentence when he is told to be a sinnful angel? Would he burn up into flames and become a fallen right in front of their eyes?

The confusion turned into yells and shouts, wanting more from the prisoner. Bertis couldn't listen to this anymore and silenced them all, yelling over them to shut up. Everyone calmed down and listened, still enraged but curious. Merritt was confused as well, but she didn't shout. What do you mean, brother?

“Kill him, I'm tired of looking at this scum,” Bertis snarled.

Bryce heard this, still not moving. The guards didn't move on the spot, they looked to their leader as though he was speaking a different language.

Bertis saw this and roared “NOW! Next he’ll be speaking demonic fixtures to kill us all, do you want that?!”

The guards looked to each other and quickly followed their leader's orders. They cautiously ran to Bryce and grabbed him by his arms, lifting him up to his feet. Same sentence again and again on Bryce’s lips. He would never let them go, never lose them as he continued on down and as he passed through death.

He could feel Merritt stare at him, wondering what to feel now. He wanted to tell her. She was a good child. She wasn't like the betrayers they were surrounded by.

“I did my duty and served the Lord and his name...I did my duty and served the Lord and his name...I did my duty and served the Lord and his name...I did my duty and served the Lord and his name…” He repeated while held like a stuck animal.

A door opened opposite of where Bryce came from, a man, a creature, of darkness walked out. He wore black clothing, even in the hot sun he seemed unfazed by the harmful rays. He was taller and more fit, a large ax in hand gripped hard. The only thing seen on his face under his cloak, were dark green eyes of Hell bound fury. He was known to be the Executioner, the death bringer, the judges pet that feeds on the bad and corrupted. He was here to kill prisoners for treason, kill them in their own blood and send them pass the human world to Hell’s burning fire. They say even the single cut from his ax could burn the flesh off your body, the hellfire inside already burning. Desperate to taste a sinner and eat them up. The nicknames the citizens called him were ‘Executioner’, ‘Death Bringer’, and the worst ‘Angel of Death’.

The guards were scared the Executioner, they never talked to him or ever spoke to him when he wasn't in business. He never talked himself, but he could burn you on the spot if you weren't careful.

Everyone watched, they were afraid as well and suddenly realized the true danger of this angel's state. Merritt gasped and was silenced. Bryce…

Bryce didn't look at the Executioner. He was too weak to face the death bringer, and don't show respect to him either way. Every prisoner would show respect, weep for mercy or simply watch in their own terror. Not Bryce. This wasn't meant to be his court time.

The Executioner came upon Bryce slow. He glared down at him with those emerald eyes, calculating this scum.

“I did my duty and served the Lord and his name…” Bryce spoke aloud.

The Executioner looked at the guards, then at Bryce. With both hands, he gripped the ax, ready to take his life. He lifted it up, heavier than a cart, heavier than a god or giant to wield without the Death Bringer’s touch. Eyes burned of Lucifer’s hellfire, body fiery as the weapon was in the air, the shadow engulfed Bryce and himself. His cloaks wings were picked up by a powerful wind, showing his legs that were still black.

Merritt felt her heart drop just like the ax did in that moment.

Bryce. Brother, is this true? Please…tell me...

A gasp was made throughout the audience, those who were brave to watch gave the gasp and fearful surprise. Bertis saw, marveled and wondrous now. Merritt had looked away, but looked back when she heard the audience's fearful comments and whispers, shocked by what she had seen.

The ax was broken, the metal was burned and bent like a hot licorice. The wood had snapped and left the Executioner with a broken stick in his hands. The metal was goop and all over the sand in the arena, hot and fizzing in front of Bryce. The guards saw this and let Bryce go, the body of the angel falling to the ground. Death Bringer looked at his stick, throwing it down in anger and glared emerald daggers at Bryce.

He pulled out a dagger of his own, and without hesitation, a yell of righteous fury, charged at Bryce.

Bryce stood on his legs, a new strength coming in at miles per hour inside of the angel. He stood and faced the Death Bringer, a yell to match his as light burned intensely around them and exploded in everyone's eyes.  A scream escaped the younger's mouth, just as the Death Bringer was made into dust and ashes of the angel’s fire. The guards ran from the scene, saving their own skins as Bryce unleashed his power.

The audience screamed and ducked for cover, Bryce’s family hiding as well in the crowds. Merritt saw as her brother looked about, his eyes and body glowing in a sunrise aura. His wings flapped and fluffed, getting out of his clothing shackles.

The chains were burned in liquid goo.

Bertis stood up and couldn't believe someone would oppose him and kill a deathbringer. “You...you dare?”

Bryce looked up at him, more bolder. “My name is Bryce Mcquaid. I served my duty and the Lord and his name.”

“Yeah, we know. You damned monster! Go back to Hell where you belong, you broke everything we ever built and done, broken trusts and bonds! You call yourself a angel? You didn't serve him, you only disappointed him, scum.” Bertis snarled.

Bryce stared at him and everyone else. He could see it. Underneath their skins and feathers, the blackness they were infected by. Hideous grins and sharp, razor teeth. They were not the angels he saw before, the friends he met and people he helped and talked to. They were poisoned.

“Everyone you know has been lost. Only one that is good can be the one you know better.” he heard the words of the Lord himself from before, and Ryan’s speaking as well.

He desperately looked for his family, stopping on one person he saw. The two black creatures next to them were hugging and afraid in their angel state. Not the person. They were white, snow white and smaller than the rest.

Merritt.

Bryce felt tears kiss his eyes. She was the only good in this city. She was the better he knew, that she could not be fooled like him. She had been taught by Bryce himself to listen carefully.

He turned to face Bertis, a glare so powerful it could kill giants. A yell broke the silence, voice cracking and monstrous but good.

“MY NAME IS BRYCE MCQUAID, AND I WAS SENT TO SERVE MY LORD’S NAME AND HIS JUSTICE, BETTER THAN ANY OF YOU CAN!”

Bertis gasped. He could see the power in his eyes, the way it was controlled and used by the younger. He was one of Ryan’s friends, one of which he has been hunting for for all the time. He had seen the truth of this place and his dark ways.

Bryce flicked his wings and took off, flying into the air and going higher and higher with each beat. The audience screamed and started to get out of the stands, running over each other and trying to get out and not be burned under the wrath of the freed prisoner. Bertis fell out of his throne and opened his own wings, going into the air himself and chasing after the rogue angel. Bryce flied to the clouds, beating every cloud puff to get above the rest, a higher elevation. He always loved the feeling of flying. It made him free and nothing could keep him down to the ground that he was birthed to walk on. Strength was restored in his arms and limbs, his ligaments bringing him his own justice as he soared higher and flown far. He could feel Bertis’ aura following him close behind, the evil he had brooding inside.

He knew, this was a different world almost. This was the cloud forest, not Heaven the angels knew so well. He twirled and flapped, his wings still in pain as he tried to escape the cloud’s presence and territory. A smile got to his lips, but didn’t last as he told himself the danger was still near.

And even Jesus couldn’t help the freed.

A lightening of white pierced through the clouds of fluff, crackling as it shrieked and headed for Bryce with it’s spider talons. Bryce avoided it, too close to comfort as he twirled and caught onto his routine.

He thought of all his life in the danger, all of how his parents were poor, that his father wanted him to make them proud or disappointed. Bring honor to a broken family. He was top of his class, always on top of everyone and never stray away from the training or stepped back when he was hurt. He was vigilant and powerful, no one messed with a poor boy as he climbed to the top himself, wings fuller than any other. He remembered meeting the original leader and rewarded for his bravery and extraordinary abilities no one has ever saw before. He was famous. His parents were proud. Then came the mission, the mission to find the hybrid, who was of a angel and demon love child and those who accommodated him. Bryce volunteered and others. He had caught up with them, ready to kill them all and bring them the lord’s wrath himself, when he stopped for a moment to listen, than to fight. Ryan, the hybrid, was...a strange lad. He didn't fight against him or threatened Bryce in any way, other than one or two of his accommodating friends. He said that he did nothing wrong, that it was a misunderstanding. Yes, he was a hybrid born, a law broken when he came to this world, but he was a timid male, brave and sympathetic on the little things. He was...strange to Bryce.

“Why won't you fight? Fight me, monster!” Bryce yelled at Ryan, throwing him down on the ground in anger. It was outside at night, the wind cold and the torch Bryce held burning orange. Ryan had little blood on his cheek.

Ryan coughed and looked up, one eye blind and grey since Bryce could remember seeing him. A light smile was on his lips, not afraid and chuckling lightly. He was not teasing Bryce, he thought this was silly a little.

“Why...why are you laughing?” Bryce snarled.

“It’s...It’s just that you're getting this whole idea wrong. I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't hurt anyone or caused any damage. I’ve been living regularly just like you, and you treat me as though I was a heartless disease who has killed millions. I’m instead a cat with no claws, a bear with no teeth or strength, and you treat me like I’m different than you. So…I should be asking you…Why are you doing this?”

Bryce’s heart raced as he remembered the truth, the lie he had followed all the time he was hunting the demons and hybrid down. A lie. Dirty and foul. They did nothing to hurt others, and here he was with a whip, expecting to bring hell on crooks.

He was blind like the others before he saw the true light himself.

He climbed out of Hell himself.

Another lightning came and Bryce wasn't ready, he did move, but it grazed his wing so violently. It burned the feathers and into his bones of the one wing. He screamed in pain and that was it, soon many more lightning bolts came and attacked Bryce in a frenzy of blazing shocks. A scream cut into many splintered out, Bryce’s body jerking as he was shocked on site. The pink light filled his eyes and evaporated everything inside of him, a shriveled feeling inside of his organs and kidneys. Heart stopped.

No noise was made as he was there for a second, his head back, arms down, wings barbequed. Then gravity did its job, grabbed him by the head, and pulled him down by its invisible ropes.

Bryce’s body fell quicker than one to fly down himself. He was seen falling through the cloud forest and his body crashed into the arena’s floor, a dull thud that echoed all around the abandoned stands and buildings. No one saw him fall. No one was there to yell, argue, or cry over the angels death.

Except one.

Merritt.

She saw her brother fall from the sky like a rock and seen him crash into the ground. Her heart dropped just like he did. She ran to him and fell beside his burned body, arms around his neck with her face buried in his shoulder. His eyes were staring up at the sky, the Lord seeing this whole event and giving pity to the angel.

A hand of light came and took Bryce’s soul out of the shell it once lived in, leaving a corpse of black on the ground of the battle field. The girl wept for her brother, remembering never to forget him and she knew he’ll be granted into Heaven for who he was and how brave and caring he was than others.

“Merritt...the city...it’s ill. Don't listen to anyone. Don't trust anyone. Leave now. Go. Run.”

Merritt looked up, tears in her eyes as she looked about to see who was talking. There was no one there still. She wiped her eyes and looked at her sibling. His blue eyes had met hers, lost and emotionless.

She smiled and kissed his cheek, standing up and looking to the sky. She could see Bertis and a few guards flying around, trying to find the body of the prisoner. Anger filled her to the rim.

“Don't trust anyone. Go.”

She opened her small wings and flew out of the arena. She didn't go to her home or anywhere she knew in the village. No. She flew farther than what her parents and friends thought, flying past the village limits and going to where the journey was outside of home. She had to escape like her brother said. She was listening. She had to listen to his request.

She was going to meet Ryan and follow him.