CLASSIFIED | POLITICS | TERRORISM | OPINION | VIEWS

The fallen angel

By Shifani Reffai

He wandered down the blackness ahead, thoughts consumed by many things; many things were to be planned, there was much to be done. The voices around him were growing and they were asking him what was to be done next, urgently, fervently. The voices mingled in their different million dialects and tones and languages, hissing, until the noise grew to a heightened symphony that sounded something like a hungry snake at the climax of its attack on its prey.

'Be quiet!' he beckoned, with a tone with such severe finality that the other voices fell silent. Around them, only the sound of the oceans grew, wailing with the breeze, as though mourning the destruction that was about to be put afoot.

He spoke then, words loud and distinct, piercing, almost damping the whisper of the wind and the crash of the waters on the jagged rocks in the distance.

'We must work soon we have not much time.' said he. Yes yes, said the other voices, their hisses once again fluttering into the black of the night before dissipating yet again.

'You know what you must do. It matters not that he will ground us into nothingness on the Final Day' he stopped, throwing a slow glance towards the skies that were beginning to cloud into an angry pile of grey and black pillows. A rumble of thunder was heard in the distance, and he felt the collective shudder of those who sat around him, listening to his words. He had felt it too.

But he shook it off immediately, letting the familiar rush of something build up inside himself- arrogance; it was what fuelled his scheme now, it was the fire that made every fibre of his being. A snarl spread across his features and he laughed lightly- the sound is what can only be described to humans such as you and me as something alike to the crackling of debris in a burning building. His hoarse clear voice cut the night air again, certain, and apathetic of the momentary bolts of lightening that now travelled from the heavens and tore through the blackness they lay in.

'No, no, my friends do not fear it! Do not fear our fate! For then what use is our existence when we spend our lives in fear of the end? The end will come! But make the rest of it before that end worthwhile we will seek our revenge. I will seek my revenge.'

When he did not receive a response from his listeners at this, he continued, his voice renewed by a determined freshness that only another familiar spirit that danced within him could create. This spirit he knew the humans called 'anger'- but oh! if only they knew what an understatement this frivolous word was to the feeling! It grew in him like a child, defiant, screaming, until it would consume him whole like a plague; his voice now shattered the noise and the silence and the waves, bounding off the rocks and the sea bed; the stationed horse at the coast nearby neighed in alarm.

'Those putrid filthy earth animals will pay! His children will pay, my
friends We will make them! Think with your good minds- is it not because of them that we are damned to our fate? Damned to be boiled for eternity in the Hole, in shame- in fire, the substance of our own beings!'

There was no sound now, except for his.

'So, what must we do now? Accept defeat and wander these spaces helplessly, forever contemplating the misfortune of being occupants of the Hole? No, never! What a waste of greatness that would be! How *dare* these humans receive a place before us? Remember, that I was once with the One Above, I was once in his presence you, all of you, you too could have been. But if only He had not made from soil that that insolent little bastard! The father of them all! I was asked to bow down to such a such a *mortal*, made of flimsy earth, made of desire and temptation and weakness! No, I would not I will never And that is why, my humble servants, we must go about this world in the way we do'

The hisses were rising again at this deliberate speech, slowly, slithering their way through the cold.

'We are damned, we are but we are not defeated. These humans they are nothing; we will drag them with us. It will be easy. Many will resist, but many are weak; these worms are all born with weakness in them- and many of them are not fighters. Weak little worms!' Fire crackled in the dark.

'We will take them to the Hole with us, drag them by what is left of their pathetic souls as they clamber and struggle to hang on to this useless little world! All we must do is speak to them a whisper in their ignorant little minds will do, as many of you already know!'

The voices murmured in excited agreement. The palm trees at the coast shivered against the wind.

'Manipulation is what we must master, my friends, for humans are easy to manipulate. You must remember that they themselves own the tools to their own destruction! All we must do is urge them on, blind them to reality, speak small words in their ears that will cause their minds to confuse the good with what is not! You will become a part of them. It will be easy, yes

I have heard that if we perform well, there will be times ahead when they will kill themselves, in madness, like blood-thirsty beasts! Some although will be unaltered by the seeds of wanton destruction we plant in their minds but worry not, for it is up to us to make that number very small! Once many stumble like fools onto the paths of their own self destruction, and walk blindly behind us into the Hole- they will only speak their thoughts t o other filthy humans, who like fools, will follow yet again! Do you not see the magnificence of this perfect plan!' With a cynical smirk he added, 'As magnificent as something He might've designed himself-'

The waves roared like a thousand hungry monsters.

'-so go. All you must do is speak to them, whisper 'yes' to the whims and temptations that are sure to swim through their weak little minds. Make what is beautiful to be ugly to their eyes and make them yearn in ignorance for what will destroy their souls and their minds!'

Loud as the sound of a menacing python awakened from its slumber, the others spoke urgently among themselves, praising the Fallen One, excited at the prospect of wreaking havoc among the oblivious earth creatures, ecstatic that they will soon have their vengeance fulfilled. Their sound was soon drowned out by the storm as they dispersed into the night air that was cold as ice and thick with foreboding.

Only he was left in the end, and he continued pacing across the darkness that surrounded him. Yes, the wheel has been set into motion He could feel the triumph of his plan swell inside him. The wind resumed its wailing; a palm tree on the coast erupted into flames as lightening ignited its leaves.

He looked down at his reflection in the deep dark waters of the ocean; he ran a finger across the millions of hard lines of resentment, anger and defiance that were etched into his visage- scars that had only formed since his descent into this void of a world- and he made a vow: that he would make the children of Adam pay for every one of them.

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