Nightgale Blog Challenge #3 - Ahriman

It is time for the Thursday post of the Nightgale Blog Challenge, but before I make the big reveal, I need to make a correction.  Kristen Lamb's book I referenced in the post What's With the Blog Face Lift? is called Are You There Blog? It's Me, Writer. I had initially written the title wrong, and corrected it within the first day the post was published.  While it shows the correct title on the Edit Posts page, just now I made a comment and noticed the wrong title still in the post.  So, if you are interested in reading the book, please note the correct title. 

Also, I would like to thank Kelley from Between the Bookends and Hope from My Protector: The Calling for sharing the Versatile Blogger and the Kreativ Blogger Awards with me. I have to admit I get all warm and fuzzy inside when someone thinks of me for a blog award.  I'm going to share the love in a special edition post this weekend, so be on the lookout!

On to Ahriman...  The third prompt was To Die and Become One with Nature.

Ahriman

Samael scowled, and stood back, as far away from the scene playing out in front of him as he could get.

A wingless angel huddled, disheveled, on the ground before Ahriman. Her hands were bound behind her back, and a purplish bruise decorated the skin on her cheekbone. She avoided looking at Samael.

She knew why he was here.

Ahriman stalked around her, like a cat does a captured mouse. He turned to the Angel of Death.

“Why, Samael? Enlighten me. Why would an angel demean herself to become flesh and blood?”

Samael shrugged. If he didn’t answer, maybe Ahriman would get the hint, and get this over with.

The dark angel unsheathed a short sword from the scabbard at his waist.

“No? You don’t know.” He brought the sword down, stopping short of the angel’s head. She flinched, and Ahriman made a noise that might have been a laugh. “Don’t you ask when you take them to the Heavens? Oh, that’s right. They don’t go there, do they?”

“Are you about done?” Samael said, clenching his jaw.

Ahriman ignored him, and tilted the angel’s head with the flat edge of the sword so he could look into her eyes. “Why, precious angel, did you put yourself into such a position?”

She trembled, fear taking control of her body. Moving only her eyes, she tried to look away.

Swooping onto one knee next to her, Ahriman grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked her head back. He put his face inches away from the angel’s.

“I asked you a question,” he snarled, his face twisted by fury.

A muffled sob escaped from her, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. The trembling of her body intensified to shaking. She closed her eyes.

Samael stepped forward, and then stopped, every muscle in his body poised for a fight he couldn't engage in.

“Just get it over with,” Samael said. He hated Ahriman more in that moment than ever before.

Ahriman let go of the angel’s hair, and made to walk away. Her face relaxed, and, in that moment, Ahriman turned and swung the short sword. It cut cleanly through the skin and bones of her neck. Before the head tumbled from her body, the angel’s spirit exited the prison of flesh. It had no form, and moved toward Samael like an earthbound cloud.

The cloud hovered in front of him. He could feel its anguish and fear from being disembodied and separated from I AM. It wasn’t right for an angel to end like this.

“You can go now,” he told the pulsating cloud. He ignored the dull ache behind his eyes as he watched the cloud disperse into the air currents.

Once the cloud had disappeared, returning to nature, he glanced over at Ahriman.

“Until next time,” he said, giving Samael a salute.

Samael watched as Ahriman crossed the room to leave, and remained silent. There was nothing to say. He would be there.