Raining Bloody Feathers, a KALS Short [short story]

[† Anras Rune]

All around the world, strange events have been occuring. Between weeping statues, stigmata and the ringing sounds or metal on metal, with churches worldwide being plagued. Then the strangest phenomenon occured; a week long rain of bloodied feathers. The entire world held it's breath to see what would happen next and the answer was more than they wished for. Angels were real, but not what we had hoped for, coming down from Heaven in search of something, or rather someone. The story will be told throught the eyes of various characters as they sturggle to find the only thing that can save the world.

This is an original KALS work. KALS is the group dedicated to renewing and reinvigorating Kametsu's ailing Art and Literature section. We will be posting a wide variety of original shorts. In some cases, if the strory is popular we will introduce character sign-ups where you can post your own character for a continuation of the short. So..... PLEASE COMMENT!

Edited October 7, 2012 by Emotional Outlet

[DuLake]

Intriguing. Love the bloody feather image. Sounds like it could make for an interesting story. Can't wait to read the full version!

[† Irish]

Great read. Good to see people trying to spark the Art and Lit section back to life...

[idl12]

Very interesting intro, who doesn't love a good end of the world story? You've teased us into wetness, now pound us into climax with your writing skills!

[† Ferocia Coutura]

I really like this concept. Sounds like tis going to be veeery interesting, to say the least.

[Rezin King]

you got me intrigued

[† Anras Rune]

Ecclesiastes 7:9

Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools.

Day 7 of the Bloody Miracle, 23:46

Vatican City

"Fear not my children, this is a sign from God himself! He sends us this rain of feathers to cleanse us of our sins! That it is our sin that stains these feathers red!"

The voice emmanated throughout Saint Peter's Square, where thousands were gathered for prayer. Of the thousands there were more here for their first time than ever before, fearing the strange occurances happening throughout the world. Many of the crowd carried banners showing pictures of stigmata, using them as a sign of their reverance. Others held huge banners carrying the sterotypical "The End Is Nigh" that many would expect. Paranoia was rife throughout the Square, and even the clergyman lining St. Peter's Balcony were nervous. A few of them had stigmata, as did many in the crowd. But the Pope did not, which worried them even more than the feathers. The Pope was speaking into the microphone, his arms waving to emphasize his clear lack of fear, but the clergymen knew otherwise.

"In a few minutes, we shall all join in prayer! Prayer to our Lord God for this most miraculous gift. We shall together rejoice in our-CRZZZPT" The sound cut out, as did the fog lamps lighting the balcony and most of the Square. The sudden darkness caused panic amongst the crowd as people began to mill around, looking for a way out. Swiss Guard and Vatican Police tried to keep the mob from rioting but the deepseeded fear and paranoia had worn away the last semblance of order in their minds. Like so many rioter before them they discovered their true strength; numbers. They rushed the line of Vatican Police, trying to exit the Square in one big looting mass, but were momentarily stopped by another strange sound. The riotous crowd came to a stand still within seconds, sending some of the less aware members barreling into the first few lines.

Meanwhile, The Pope watched the comotion in the Square with a horrified look. He watched as they turn on each other, trying as hard as thhey could to reach the entrance. At first he thought about shouting over the noise to calm the masses, but they were too loud and it wouldn't help. He didn't have the words to help them in their time of need; he help powerless. Despite his apparent confidence he felt unfit to lead these people in such an uncertain time. He turned to look at his companions, the bishops and cardinals of the Catholic Church that had managed to reach Rome within the week. They seemed as mentally exhausted as he, and as fearful as the rioting mob below them. He could see the visible stigma on two of his cardinals; a small ring of cross shaped scars around their necks, similar to a necklace, and the bleeding wrists. Their feet were most likely bleeding as well, but their robes covered the blood. As the Pope contemplated what to do a strange noise boomed across the Square. At first the clergymen thought it was the mob, but they noticed throught the dim light that they had stopped as well.

The sound was coming from above, a steady rushing noise akin to gusts of winds. The noise seemed to be directed downwards, which was strange and made the crowds' ears pop. The gusts kept getting louder with visible effects on the floor appearing above the Vatican Obelisk. The gusts' noise seemed to change and individual gusts could be made out over the booming effect provided by the wind. It sounded like wing beats. Some people in the mob began running again while others walked mesmerised back towards the centre of the Square. The Pope was still wondering about the source of the noise when two more similar sounds began at either sides of the Square. These other wingbeats seemed smaller and more frequent, giving off the impression of something innocent.

After 3 minutes of the constant noise and wind, the people in Saint Peter's Square became the first to see source of the sound. They became the first people to see angels. The two smaller wing beats were the first to appear from throught the clouds. The first thing the crowd saw was the wings, each had a wing span easily 24 metres. The wings themselves were broad and toned, the wing muscles visible not just on the angel's back and shoulders but the actual wings themselves. They seemed similar to eagle wings, with the rectangular shape and spead out guide feathers. They both had predominantly white wings, but the left most angel had a ridge of black along it's feather tips. Their backs were bare, allowing their wings to beat without hinderance, and exposing the veritable slab of muscle that allowed them to fly. Their chests' were covered by a chest plate made of what looked like bronze and steel, the brown tones of the bronze mixing with the silver steel to dance across their ample chests. Their faces were covered in large helmets, made of similar metal as the chest pieces, and was fashioned into a crest with feathers, similar in design to the old Greek king's helmets. One, the rightmost, was female as the chest plate and helmet were the only pieces of clothing they wore. The other, most definatly male, was carrying a spear, while the the female carried a bow. They both looked up at the third angel.

The third angel was definatly larger than the other two and he was visible long before the others. It reached the obelisk within a few wingbeats and hovered, despite having stopped moving it's wings. It was at least 9 feet tall, as opposed to the others 7 feet, and much broader. It's actual features could not be seen due to the wings covering it's entire body. All three sets sprouted from it's back; the first coming ove the top of it's shoulders and reaching down to it's feet, the second covering in the same manner, but from the sides and the last pair covered it's back. The only visible part of it's body was it head, which wore a large ornate golden helmet. The huge side panels stuck out the top and back, giving the impression of a flaming head. The gaps between it's wings seemed to be glowing, as did his face. It's eyes were closed. The crowd shyed away from him, and no one knew why. It was the first to speak.

"Where are your saints! Reveal them to me, or my wrath shall fall upon you!"

It was facing the Pope, who was standing in shocked amazement. He couldn't believe his eyes, a real angel! His jublience wasn't shared by the other clergyman, especially the two with stigmata. The Pope moved forward prepared himself to talk. He was going to be the first to speak with an angel since biblical times. Or so he thought.

"Lord is our master, tell us your name o messenger of God. Tell us wh-" was how he began, before being interjected by the centre angel again. It seemed indignant of the Pope and somewhat angry at the same time. The Pope's fear came back as fast as it had left. The angel began speaking again, "I will not converse with a false prophet! How dare thee sully me!"

The angel opened his eyes at the Pope, revealing two flaming eyeballs, while his eyelashes seemed to crackle and flash like lightning. He looked at the Pope as he tried to look away, but was caught by some invisible force. The blinding light emmanating from the angels eyes caused the clergyman to shield their eyes, exposing their wrists. The angel saw the two clergyman with stigmata and howled. It's hold on the Pope was released and he fell into St. Peter's Square, where the crowd was transfixed on the scene in front of them. Only when the Pope's body hit the ground did they move, panicking again, rushing towards exits and side streets. The centre angel said something unintelligble to the other two, in a voice somewhat like bell tones, to which they nodded in approval. They both raised their arms and wings, spreading them to their full extent, bringing them down suddenly upon the roof, sending a whole host of white lines around them. When these lines hit the statues lining the collonade of St. Peter's Basilica they engulfed the statues in a white webbing, eventually seeping into the stone it's self. The statues began to move.

The statues began stretching, as if shaking off a long sleep, moving their arms and legs in unison with each other. They all took a step forward, landing at the same time on the ground, bending into the landing and cracking the floor slabs. The mob of people began screaming in sheer terror with people clambering over each other, trying to get away from the statues. The Vatican police drew their guns and opened fire, leaving pockmark chunks of stone missing from the now living priceless statues. It didn't even phase the stone figures, who had begun closing in on the crowd, blocking them in a wall of living stone. The female angel pointed her bow at the police, firing flaming white arrow after arrow at them, while the male angel flew at them with his spear, picking off the ones his female counterpart didn't shoot. The arrows that protruded from the recently killed police disappeared within seconds of impact, but left the corpses burning.

Meanwhile, on the balcony the first few clergyman had recovered and had begun praying, some of which dropped to their knees to do so. The angel in the centre chuckled, a low rumbling laugh that sent shivers down their spines. It began to move, lifting one wing at a time it slowly showed itself. It's body was male and looked as if it had been chiseled out of marble. It's toned chest was rippled with muscles in all the right places and, were it not for the circumstances, could've made any girl swoon. But the pale white skin seemed off, and the priests that dared look saw its apparent transparency. Light seemed to shine out of him, light which was gradually gettin brighter and brighter.

Seraph... thought one of the cardinals, a bearer of stigmata, called Josepf Lauden. He stood up to full height, which was difficult in the curiously solid light. He began praying to God, asking why he was punishing them. His prayer was answered, but not by God.

"There is no God now, saint. He has left this world to me, Metatron, and you have no right to it!" screamed the centre angel, the seraph, but not with his voice. It pierced through Joseph's skull, in his mind, reviborating throughout his every fiber. He felt, unclean. His stigmata glowed, along with Metatron and began to pulsate.

The statues had reached the mob and were picking throught them, swinging their arms like clubs, breaking limbs with every contact. They would occasionally come across a crowd member who bore a stigmata. When they did, they would grab the person and throw them out of the crowd, so that the angels could get to them easily. When the angels reached these people they would lift them to head height and stare into their eyes, like they were looking at their souls. They probably were. They obviously hadn't found what they were looking for as every time they had finished looking they would discard the person, normally killing them before hand with a sweep of the spear, or by crushing their necks. The whole time the statues would continue their barberous assault on the mob, whose numbers were starting to dwindle. After a few more minutes there would be none left, and the Vatican would fall, the first in this long and bloody war.

The feathers had stopped falling, but that was the least of Humanities' concerns...

[Rezin King]

dude this story is amazing i love how you make it feel like revelations counterpart

[Pinkie Pie]

That was very nice runie :>

[Nero D. Ace]

hmm, the cake is hovering now ;D

[DuLake]

I'll be completely honest, when I first read your pitch I thought it would be a cheesy and poorly written mess. I'm glad to say I was very wrong.

I LOVE IT! You set up a terrific setting and beautifully incorporated a whole slew of details into everything. I love how you describe things. Very well done. There were one or two places that might have a syntax error or two (though that can vary greatly depending on where you're from, so I could just be looking at it wrong), but very small things. Great work though. It had a very good rhythm that really made it flow nicely. Very good, and, needless to say, I can't wait for more.

[† RazorDan]

great job man! I could easily picture the scene and the angels are brilliantly described. The story gives me an awesome apocalyptic vibe, if you get what I mean lol

[† Ferocia Coutura]

Dude, publish this when it's over. I'm serious when I say it is probably the best, most well-written originial story I have ever read. The concept is amazing, it is completely and utterly epic, and to top it all off, not one sentence was boring to read. This is exactly what I expected from you, and you definately did not dissapoint! ;P

[† Anras Rune]

thank you very much! and iki, THE CAKE SHALL BE MINE!!

yeah dulake, i prefer writing in notepad, so sometimes i miss mistakes that i've made. failures in syntax are a result of winging it, mkay! lol

next chapter should be up soon, as i've already made a start on it...

[Kinara Uzumaki]

The first part of the story is awesome!!!! Thanks for writing out this story

[† Anras Rune]

Proverbs 21:25 The desire of the slothful killeth him; for his hands refuse to labour.

First Day of the Fall, 03:56

The Eiffel Tower, Paris

The Tower stood tall in all it's magnificence, the lights lining the girders giving a serene atmosphere, despite the soon to be sinister circumstances. A couple walked hand in hand past the little closed coffee shops, the smell of sweet arabian still permeating the air. As they walked out of the park something fell throught the clouds in a steep dive, its rapid descent was lost on the couple as they strutted blissfully away. The object; the thing fell at a rate that would make any man faint with nausea. It was as if it had been thrown; its descent seemed purposful and intentional. The object smashed through the Tower, leaving a large hole in the girders and the lingering boom of metal hitting something solid yet soft. It impacted with the coffee shop, sending debris all over the surrounding area. Smoke started to rise from the shop in billowing clouds masking the object from outside view. There were a few solitary feathers, floating down from the sky and dancing in the wind.

Another sound permeated the air; a cacophony of wingbeats, bell tolls and horns. The noise easily awoke most of the city and a large amount of people were leaving their houses to see what the commotion was. The veritable wall of sounds was causing the other residents of Paris to begin moving, with thousands of rats and other rodents pouring out onto the streets. They seemed to be running away, as most made there way towards the outskirts of the city. Some people picked up on this tense atmosphere and rushed back inside, while others started making there way towards the Eiffel Tower.

The thing that fell throught the Tower began to stir; the tell tale signs of moving rubble despite the chunks of concrete being as big as a man at some parts, displayed the origin of the object. Definatly not human. A few people that had ventured out due to the noise had made there way towards the coffee shop, wondering why the entire roof had been strewn across the surrounding park. They noticed the stirring rubble and made their way to help, thinking someone trapped beneath. But before they had removed the first block, the thing stood up in all it's glory, brushing off the concrete slabs like they were paper. It was an male angel, that had spread its wings its full span and was stretching the muscles. He was naked, which gave the crowd perfect view of the damage sustained during the fall; or possibly before. His chest was covered in scratches and cuts, some of which were bleeding quite profusely. After a bout of stretching and twisting the angel finally lowered his wings and looked down at the people in front of him. His face was chiseled, with square jaw and deep blue eyes that seemed to pierce into the soul. His presence seemed to magnify and his eyes scanned the crowd; most of which were in varied stages of either panic or remaind out of sheer curiosity. He found what he was looking for, a person bearing stigmata.

"You, my child that has been touched by God, please tell me where I am." it said too a small girl, not older than 10, who was near the centre of the crowd. His voice was an amalgamisation of ever accent imaginable, yet it sounded so magnificent it had left some crowd members awestruck.

"Paris. You're pretty! Who are you?" replied the girl in excitation, amazed that this beautiful creature had talked to her. She puched through the crowd towards the angel, and everyone moved out of the way. She stood in front of him, neck craned to see his face, her head barely reaching his hip. He smiled, a gesture that was immediatly returned by the little girl.

"Thank you child, you have a good heart. My name," began the angel, but paused as he crouched down to take the girl's pro-offered hand,"is Michael."

Again the voice rolled over the crowd, but this time the fact sunk in. Before them was an angel, Michael no less, and he was talking to a litte girl. The surreality of the situation caused some people to leave in a daze, others to stay and reminisce later about the voice. Michael stood up and looked to the sky, the noise had begun to get louder, yet the crowd had not noticed, too mesmerized by this fallen angel. Despite his bloodied appearance a radiance of good will and tranquilty washed over them. Michael's face changed though as did the air around him. He scowled at the sky, knowing what was to come. He crouched down again and picked up the child, much to the dismay of the crowd and her parents.

"You should all leave, run. Here it is not safe for you, no where is safe." he said, addressing the crowd in a dire tone till he next turned to the girl's parents," I must take the girl. She is special, so do not worry, I shall protect her. Should you survive this ordeal I will seek you out to return her. Trust me."

The mother and father were gobsmacked, not uttering any protest. They wouldn't have been able to anyway, as Michael spread his wings and took off in three powerful wingbeats, knocking most of the crowd off their feet. He preformed a small circle in the air, much like a pigeon would, and flew off towards the Notre Dame, picking up speed as he went. The cacophony of noise had stopped, and only wingbeats could be heard now, yet they were much louder than before.

"Where are you taking me!" screamed the girl over the howling wind, her excited demeanor replaced with fear and anxiety. She was pressed up against Michael's chest, yet she didn't feel him. It was like he wasn't completely solid, not really real.

"Somewhere safe, where I can fully ground myself" replied Michael, distracted by the sudden change in atmosphere. Something was coming.

Out of the sky, hundreds, if not thousands of angels discended through the clouds, their collective wingbeats droning over the city and blocking out all other noise. Most of the angels were similar to each other in size or build, with obvious differences between the sexes and choice of apparel. Michael quickly scanned the nearest group, making sure there weren't any higher ranked angels before diving through the stain glass window of the Notre Dame. Using his wings as cover, he smashed through, landing inbetween the pews with a thunderous crash. He gently lowered the girl to the floor, and folded his wings on his back.

Meanwhile, the angels descended on the sleeping city like a plague, actively seeking out people on the ground. They would swarm a building, ripping people out through windows and doors, making sure they weren't stigmatised. Some people had tried to fight back, using bats, sticks and whatever they could find, while the Parisian Police force had been caught with it's pants down. By the time they had got ready to mobilise the angels had begun to start on their headquarters. There were a few shots fired, and more than a few angels didn't come out of the building; yet the damage was done. The police were decimated, a few remaining survivers trying hopelessly to fight the angels off, but to no avail. The body count was beginning to pile up already, while the city became a battlefield within the space of minutes.

The fall of Paris had begun, as Michael turned to the girl and asked her name.

"Josephine. My name is Josephine..."

[Leviathan87]

great story. i like it. but i hate reading lol

[Kinara Uzumaki]

UUUUH! Loving the story as it progresses........Do keep writing some more, I'm so impatient to see what happens next^^^

[Rezin King]

very goo job i love this story

[† Ferocia Coutura]

It's so deliciously dark. I love how the plot is still somewhat shrouded in mystery. There's so many things this story can turn into... I can't wait to devour another chapter.