The Legend of the Pervy Archangel
Like an old-fashioned showdown to a classic western movie―only with swords instead of guns and angels instead of cowboys―Michael and Lucifer stared each other down.
Michael glared at Lucifer, his eyes narrowed, dangerous, intent, and focused. Every twitch, every slight movement, every inhale and exhale of breath was meticulously observed and cataloged by the greatest swordsman of Heaven, who was watching and waiting for some kind of signal that would signify the beginning of their fight. Michael's mind was clear. He knew what he had to do.
The battle started when Lucifer's left leg twitched. The powerful devil launched himself at Michael, who also shot forward at incredible speed. They met in the center of the warehouse, a shockwave kicking up between them as the kinetic energy generated from their clashing swords had nowhere to go and thus pushed away everything around them, including the very molecules that made up the atmosphere. Air burst and exploded with violent intentions. A vacuum was created between them, all of the oxygen that had been pushed away suddenly getting sucked back in.
Michael and Lucifer ignored this as surely as they ignored the fragments of cement battering their bodies. They pushed against each other's weapon, each attempting to overpower the other. When that failed, their swords were drawn back, only to clash again, unleashing another thunderous shock wave.
“It seems we're about even,” Lucifer said, “for the moment, at least. But I wonder how long you'll last.”
“More than long enough to defeat you,” Michael retorted with a calm, collected tone.
Again and again the two smashed their weapons against each other. Glowing gold clashed with demonic red. Sparks crackled through the air as the ozone began to burn. Shock wave after shock wave caused the ground underneath them to crack and splinter as it was beset upon by forces that its material composition simply wasn’t made to withstand.
Lucifer's sword came streaking towards Michael, an overhand slash that forced Michael to raise his blade and intercept. The attack was parried. Michael then twirled their blades around, until Lucifer's pointed toward the ground and his was pointed at Lucifer. The golden sword was thrust forward, aiming right for Lucifer's chest.
Not wanting to find himself skewered by Michael's long, hard sword of glowing might, Lucifer backpedaled, thus avoiding having his flesh penetrated.
“You know,” Lucifer said, frowning. Michael had stopped several feet away, also frowning. “For some reason, I feel really angry right now, like someone just insulted us.”
Michael paused, then nodded slowly. “You know something? I agree. I feel almost like we were just the butt end of a gay joke. How strange.”
Both of them took a moment to reflect on this most puzzling sensation.
Several seconds later the two decided to ignore the strange urge they both felt to kill someone.
Their battle wouldn't finish itself, after all.
Using the incredible speed granted to him, Michael appeared right next to Lucifer, his sword aiming to bisect the Devil. The attack was avoided, or rather, the blade past right through Lucifer, whose entire form wavered and vanished into thin air.
“An after image?!”
Michael, even in his shock, had the peace of mind to move. He sped to his left, the ground exploding in a violent display of dark energies. As dust and chunks of cement were launched off the ground and into the air, the Archangel sliced at the atmosphere in front of him, a blast of golden crescent-shaped energy emerging from his blade.
Floating several feet above, Lucifer swung his own sword, creating an equally powerful crescent of red energy. The two powers of opposing forces clashed, canceling each other out and detonating with concussive force. Michael and Lucifer were both pushed back by their own power, one skidding along the ground and the other soaring backwards through the air.
Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Alice, her form appearing impossibly fragile as she held onto a large metal pipe sticking out of the ground like some kind of lifeline. He almost swore―were he not the Archangel, he would have been cursing up a storm. He was putting her in danger. His battle with Lucifer needed to be taken somewhere else. If this continued, then Alice, this entire warehouse even, would become naught but ash and dust.
Oh, and Dustin would get hurt, too, he guessed.
A flap of fourteen powerful wings launched Michael off the ground. The air erupted underneath him, a violent discharge created by the forceful movement. He reached Lucifer within seconds, his sword already swinging. The attack was blocked, of course, but Michael wasn't aiming to injure this time. With his forward momentum adding more power to his swing, Lucifer, who'd been stationary and floating in the air, did not have the traction to block him and remain where he was.
The devil went flying.
As in, he really went flying.
Michael looked at the large hole in the ceiling that Lucifer created during his ascent. He then flapped his wings and burst out of the hole himself and into the open sky.
Almost as soon as he left the warehouse, several spheres of crackling energy bombarded him. Michael narrowed his eyes in concentration. His blade flashed out with precise, pinpoint strikes that destroyed each sphere with ease, cutting them apart and causing them to dissipate into energy particles behind him.
In retaliation for the attack, Michael's wings folded around him, the tips glowing as they were pointed at Lucifer. A second later, fourteen bolts of white lightning shot from them. The attack, traveling at speeds unknown, struck Lucifer hard and exploded with impossible violence, the airspace that the devil had been floating in lighting up with the vivid luminosity of a star gone supernova, blocking Michael's view.
The light died down, revealing that smoke and ash now covered the small area where his attack struck. A gust picked up, blowing the smokescreen away. Lucifer stood there, arms crossed over his chest, completely unharmed.
“It seems you're just as strong as I remember,” Lucifer said. “Surprising, since the last I heard you spent most of your time peeping on women like a dirty old man.”
“Just because I spend more time admiring the female form doesn't mean my sword skills have grown rusty.” Michael gave him a disapproving look. “And peeping is an art form. I won't have you making fun of it.”
“Whatever,” Lucifer muttered under his breath, “idiot.”
“There's only one person I'll let call me idiot,” Michael said, then paused. “Actually, there's two―no wait, three. Regardless!” He glared. “You're not any of them.”
“Like I care. I'll call you whatever the hell I want!”
“You don't have that right!”
“I have every right, you dirty old degenerate!”
“You're older than me, genius!”
“So what?! That doesn't make what I said any less true! Face it, you're nothing but a lecherous old fool whose time has long since passed!”
“That does it! You're gonna pay!”
“Oh, yeah! Why don't you make me?!”
The two clashed again, sword against sword. Michael and Lucifer fought, their wings keeping them in the air even as powerful updrafts and violent winds buffeted the airspace around them. The smell of burnt ozone filled the atmosphere. Loud explosions and flashes of gold and red marked their battle.
Getting pushed away again, Michael and Lucifer found themselves floating several meters from each other. Rather than meet in another dance of blades, they threw a large sphere of energy at one another. The attacks clashed in the middle, causing the sky to explode into incandescent brilliance.
Gritting their teeth, they attacked again. Michael's wings began glowing once more while Lucifer brought his hands together by his torso, dark red matter crackling and sending arcs of energy shooting outwards.
The attacks the pair unleashed clashed in the center of their areal battlefield. Glowing white met violent red. The two powerful energies pushed against the other, but neither made any headway.
Michael, seeing how their attacks were equal in strength, channeled more power into his attack. His wings lit up with a luminescent vibrancy that outshone the sun. Soon, his attack was pushing Lucifer's attack back toward his devil adversary. Upon realizing what was happening, Lucifer began amping up the amount of energy he was putting into his attack.
The air around them crackled and burst. Tendrils of arcane power shot from their clashing attacks in arcs of destructive energy. Several arcing tendrils struck Grissom island, combusting and sending gouts of flame and shrapnel into the air.
“Not good.” Michael watched as a number of large cylinders were struck by the volts of clashing angelic and demonic power, exploding in a display of senseless violence and destruction. “Our battle is wiping out everything around us.”
He knew that would inevitably happen. With the powers they wielded, he and Lucifer were more like forces of nature than sentient beings. Battles such as this were always destructive. There was a reason God had forbade Michael from battling on Earth.
He really hoped God would forgive him for doing so now.
He also needed to end this.
Pushing himself forward on swift wings, Michael flew towards Lucifer again, who met his attack head on. His sword appearing in his hand, Michael swung his blade at his foe, only for his sword to be met by the red energy sword of his enemy.
The two clashed, their blades grinding, sparks of energy, ancient and powerful, flying from where the two weapons touched.
Lucifer grinned as he leaned forward. “It looks like we're still of comparable power, though it seems I'm a bit stronger than you.”
In emphasis of this, he pushed against Michael's sword, forcing their blades to move closer toward the Archangel's face. The searing heat from their weapons made him flinch.
“It would seem that way,” Michael grunted. “Except there is something that you haven't realized.”
Lucifer frowned. “And that is?”
“I'm only using one hand.”
Michael raised his free hand…
“Gah! My eyes!” Lucifer reared back, his energy sword disappearing as his hands pressed against his now bleeding eyes. “I can't believe you just poked me in the fucking eyes! Who the hell does that?!”
“I do that.”
Michael then proceeded to kick Lucifer in the testicles, eliciting a high pitched squeal from the devil that sounded out several octaves higher than his normal voice.
“And don't swear. It's sinful.”
With Lucifer blind and his hands now covering his nutsack, Michael raised his sword and sent it hurtling down in a powerful slicing motion.
Lucifer was split down the middle, his body separating in a brilliant blaze of light.
“Fuck you, Michael!” Lucifer screeched, his voice so high-pitched that he sounded like an elementary schoolgirl. He also spoke from both halves of his mouth, though just how such a thing was possible would forever remain unknown. “The next time we meet, I'm going to kill you, you shit-faced fucktard!”
Michael watched as Lucifer's figure burst into dark red particles, and his spirit was sent back to Hell. He waited for a second, just to make sure everything was truly over, and then sighed when Lucifer didn't reappear.
“Glad that's done with,” he said, “although, that ending felt strangely anticlimactic.” He shrugged. “Oh, well. Now to get back to Alice.”
With a smile on his face, Michael descended toward the warehouse. He had a friend who needed him.
~The Archangel Michael~
After the battle, Michael picked up Alice, as in, literally scooped her into his arms before she could get a word in edgewise and flew off. Alice, who was not at all used to flying outside of an airplane, or even flying in an airplane, screamed the whole time they soared above the Earth.
It shouldn't come as a surprise, but when they landed, Alice hit him on the head.
“Don't scare me like that again!”
“S-sorry,” Michael muttered, wincing as he rubbed the mountainous lump of pink flesh that protruded from the top of his cranium. Even though he had his powers back, or rather, was actively using them, Alice's fists still packed a punch. It had to be a female thing. Gabriel hit just as hard. “I'll try not to scare you again. Did you really have to hit me, though?”
A small drop of sweat trailed down the side of his face. “Right. I should have guessed you'd say that.”
“Yes, you should have.” Alice nodded before turning her gaze to his angel wings. “So you really are an angel?” She looked at the seven pairs of wings in awe and wonder. “I can't believe you were telling the truth this whole time.”
“Are you saying you never believed me even once?” Michael felt like something had drilled him through the chest.
“Of course not.”
“Oh, Alice! How could you be so cruel?!”
“What? You can't possibly expect me to believe that you were an angel without any proof.”
“You should have trusted me when I told I'm an angel.” Michael pouted, complete with wide, puppy-like eyes and jutting lower lip.
“Right. Trusted the pervert who groped my chest when we first met that he's The Archangel. Real angel-y of you.”
“That was an accident!”
“But you enjoyed it, right?”
Alice nodded her head. “Thought so. See? How could I trust a complete pervert when he says he's an angel?”
“Whatever,” Michael muttered, “meanie.”
Alice rolled her eyes. The shock of everything that happened had worn off by now, and with her relief and disbelief at the situation also leaving her, a sort of somber acceptance overcame her features.
“So, what happens now?” she asked. “You said that God stripped you of your powers and sent you down to earth as punishment. Now that you've got your wings back, what's going to happen?”
“I guess I'll go back to Heaven,” Michael said, looking down at his shoes. He was still wearing the pair of black converse that Alice had forced him to buy that time they went clothes shopping for him.
“I see,” Alice whispered.
Michael shocked Alice by pulling her into a hug. His arms twined around her much smaller body, pulling her against him, and his cheek came to rest atop of her head. Alice, after the “Oh, my God, I can't believe he's hugging me!” of the situation wore off, returned the hug with a tight one of her own. Her face buried deep into his pectorals, and her body pressed so tightly to his that it almost appeared as if she were trying to meld and become one with him.
Her arms were shaking.
“Call me selfish, but there's something I want to tell you before I go,” he said.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice soft, filled equal amounts of sorrow and hope.
“I love you. I really, truly, love you.”
Alice released a sob.
Michael continued. “I know this probably isn't the best thing to say when I'm leaving, and I'm sorry this hurts you, but I… I just wanted you to know that.”
Alice shook her head. “No,” she choked out. “Don't be sorry. I wanted to hear you say that for a while now.” She pulled her head from his chest and looked at him through a teary eyed smile. “And since we're confessing, I want to tell you that I love you too. I love you, and I'll never forget you. Ever.”
The sad smile Michael gave her caused a look of confusion to spread across her face. Releasing the hug, Michael took a few steps back, before, with a single flap of his wings, he ascended into the air.
“While it makes me truly happy to hear that, I'm sorry to say that you will forget me.” When he saw that Alice still looked confused, he said, “humans and angels are never meant to meet like this. Not anymore. Not since the birth of Christ. Because of Jesus Christ's death, angels are no longer needed to guide humans and help them follow a righteous path. Due to this, it was decided by God that no human shall be allowed to meet an angel. Those who do will always forget after their paths separate.”
“W-what?” Alice looked horrified. “But I don't want to forget you!”
Michael looked away. “And I don't want you to forget me, but this is not something I can control. It will happen, regardless of our wishes.”
“So you're saying that when you leave, everything that happened to us, all the memories I have of you will just disappear?”
“Yes. I'm not sure what will end up filling the gap created by my absence, but I know the angel who controls memories has a way of filling in the blanks. Everyone else will forget about me as well,” he added.
“Stay here,” Alice repeated. She looked up at him, her eyes imploring. “Forget about going back to Heaven and stay here, with me.”
“Alice.” Michael looked uncomfortable. “You know I can't do that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “But I at least thought I'd try.”
“If it's any consolation, we will eventually meet again,” he said softly, yet his voice carried to her even so. “Having discovered what kind of person you are, I know that there is a place reserved in Heaven for you, so we're bound to meet again.”
Alice looked at him, her expression hopeful. “Will I remember you when we meet in Heaven?”
“If God wills it.”
That didn't appear to be the answer she wanted, but Alice also seemed to accept that it was the only answer he could give. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”
“Not goodbye,” Michael responded, “just a see you later.”
Alice and Michael stared at each other for several seconds longer. Then, without warning, Michael flapped his wings and soared into the air, ascending higher and higher until his entire figure vanished from Alice's view.
The young woman looked at the sky for a second longer. Her eyes then came back down. She looked left, then right, and then she began blinking, expressing her more than obviously astonished befuddlement.
“What am I doing here?” she asked of no one in particular. Her face scrunched up, nose wrinkling cutely and lips pursing. The last thing she remembered doing was going to get a cappuccino with Clara and ranting about boys. So, how did she get here? And just where was here anyway?
She observed her surroundings, peering at the area empty of pedestrian traffic before her eyes landed on a street sign.
“East Ocean Boulevard,” she read, her eyes growing wide. “That's thirty miles from the mall! What the heck?!”
Despite the bamboozlement growing inside of her, Alice realized that standing there, looking like some kind of doped up idiot, wasn't going to solve her problem. And so, still horribly perplexed, Alice began walking towards the nearest bus stop.
And as she walked, the young woman couldn't help but feel like she was forgetting something. However, after spending several seconds thinking, she shrugged. If whatever she forgot was important, then she was positive that she would remember it eventually.