Unangelic

Chapter I

Pater- Spear Angel
Michelle - Flower Angel
Leah - Saw Angel
James - Shield Angel
Edgar - Book Angel
Homisis - Hammer and sickle Angel

These are names on the parchment, faded and smudged in red scribbled letters. The parchment is mostly remarked at the following words under the list

" They aren't of earth. Neither hell nor heaven. They aren't supposed to be born. Neither to stay among human. What they do is spreading the soul-twisting and body-usurping disease. The epidemic victimizes everyone but they only take whom they are interested in. The rest are gotten rid of for being not qualified. They are infatuated with each other, being possessive bursts out mad fire within themselves when seeing outer violation. They are disgrace but they blame human the other way round. Hence they slaughter human.
They are unwanted creation, formed in human's image and spoiled to the core
It is shameful to mistake them for ordinary folks, to see no trace of guilt in their presence.
These disgusting-to-be-entitled-Angel entities are not to be tolerated and we shall defy them to death..."

The Hight Priest was obsessing about the sermon. Something made his blood seethe in veins. Fresh excitement. Desire to witness agonies of defeated enemies and self-praise for having been a martyr.
The words of violence had waken up a monster inside the shepherd, He wanted to destroy, better had a living creature to torment. And suddenly, his mind turned to the newly suspect of devil worshipping. He could use her as a relief for his cruelty thirst.
" Send the suspect yesterday morning to the chamber ! " He ordered, grabbing the cloak and the Bible, then strode out of the office to the said place, quite hastily. Very unusual.
In the office, the window was left open for a breeze to blow in, and it whirled the parchment outside. A hand rose aloft, and the piece soon rested under its clenched fingers.
Walking along the high arched corridor and turning left three times to disappear into a secluded alley, leading inside the darkness while friars were quivering behind, the Priest took the men to the chamber. The cradle of Inquisition, not to exaggerate!
He had followers pull forward the heavy gate, as it crawled aside they saw a grey hall being revealed. A hall of a few torture structures laid in the middle, such familiar tools like the Iron Maiden, the racks, the boots, the thumb screw leveled up to the more creative that was still in test. The scene centered on a wooden chair with a figure rigidly being tightened to it. Crimson liquid streamed down its four legs, muddied the ground. The person was pale and emotionless; like a statue that bled, and though being crashed it kept the same mystic expression.
She held her chin high and didn't care about their entering, or their swaggering around the chair, or even their approaching with new malicious toys. Why to bother?
Her hair in ponytail flew down behind, platinum, and hence the sore to public eyes.
They had stabbed a dagger at the back of the chair, it pierced through wood and her flesh. Since then it wouldn't stop dripping, and so her white hair spotted with her own blood. Her neck skin and hands turned black and blue.
She dressed in an overcoat- as black as the feathers of crows, and long in back tunics that somehow resembled bird tail, also ragged at edges. Tight trousers and no undershirt while the coat was unbuttoned to half chest. Breast bulged slightly, evoking no erotic deeds.
The Priest murmured to her ear,
" So young but have already committed sins. I regret to tell you that you will burn in hellfire after your punishment on earth."
" Sin in foolish Christian definition is no sin at all, " she stated frankly. It cost her a slap.
The angry man walked around, gnashed
" Witchcraft, devil worshipping, disobeying the elders, inappropriate outfits, foul language... You are uneducated and rebellious," he stressed at every insulting word.
" Yeez, thanks," she grinned.
A second slap on the other cheek didn't surprise her. Another one," Had you received the power through the Incubus intercourse?", and another one, " Where did the devil touch you?", and another one," Did you receive any order from the devil in the Sabbaths?", and another one that was stronger than the first four," Was there any one help you?", and the sixth one might have twisted her neck if the head hadn't hit the back of the chair.
He grabbed her chin and turned her face to look at him. Her eyes were bold, and she drawled,
" B.o.r.i.n.gggg! "
He yanked the white pony tail. He pressed a chisel on the pale throat yet untouched and still alive to swallow. Slowly, he dipped the point and split downward a straight line. What a work that made her breathe faster. He continued to move to the upper and drew a transverse, shorter line. Red blossomed. She inhaled deeply, he knew, she was reacting to the pain. He contentedly supposed she would submit to him. Only him, not those stupid, useless executioners that couldn't dig out a moan or squeeze out a teardrop from the obstinate wench.
The friars were outsiders of this will warfare. They did not dare to interfere. Forced to watch the priest's fierce effort, too fierce for a preacher of God's kindness, their nerve froze.
Under his breath, the High Priest muttered,
" Daughter, I will read thee the prayer of Angels, in mercy they will soothe your pain, therefore you can realize you'd better turn back to the right hand path for your sake! "
And as so, he raised his voice,
" Dear Angel, in his goodness God gave you to me, ..."
" Nema! Nevaj ni stnias slegna fo ynap eht otni detpecca eb ot yad emos os dna, ekiltsirhc erom emoceb ot em pleh. Tremgduj ym ni rre i nehw em tcurtsni dna, denetrachsid ma i nehw em egaruocne. Yartsa go i nehw yaw thgir eht ot kcab em gnirb ot den, em nethgilne, tcetorp, ediug ot em ot uoy evag DOG ssendoog sih ni, legna raed, " she cut off, shattered his enthusiasm. The Catholic face reddened in wrath, forgot that wrath was ironically a sin, and seemed swelled up at cheeks. His lips bit hard.
" Rot in hell," he roared, strode away. Furious. Dizzy. Friars hurried after him. Left behind, the maniac laughter drilled his brain, sent ice as it flooded his ears. It was audible all the way out, woke all senses of silence darkness