One, two, three. One, two, three. There were three lights, every three feet in this hospital. He noted dully how they fluctuated as he was rushed in on one of those gurneys. He could feel the blood draining, oozing from his wrists, his elbows, and sides. The leather straps holding him down were slick with blood. The doctors around him were yelling to one another, as though worried. His eyes were cold and his breath was shallow.

One blink, and he was in a hospital room. Everything was white. His arms were bandaged, and so were his sides.

There was a slight sting, one that was dulled out by pain pills.

Rage began to fill him. They’d taken away his red wings- he was an angel and those damned humans had taken away his red wings! How dare they! He was the one they should be bowing to! He was the one that would save humanity! He was God’s messenger! It then dawned on him, and he began to giggle. Laugh, even. Simple-minded humans did not understand the importance of his life. They were afraid of him. And they damn well should be!

He sat up. Those dumb apes hadn’t strapped him down, they thought whatever kind of sedative they’d given him would be all that they needed until morning. Maybe, but he wasn’t a human! Nothing would hold him down, or keep him obedient.

He slid his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself up. His body was young and wounded, however, he was strong. Gingerly, he began to remove the bandages, dropping them silently on the floor. His skin was red, gruesome, and stitched.

He stared at them and began to cackle yet again, louder this time. He picked at the stitches, pulling them free.

Blood oozed from the reopened wounds, and for a moment, he paused and stared at the veins peeking from his wounds. They were now turning red, exposed to the air. He smiled, and pressed his fingers into the wound, beneath the vein, and pulled up and freed them.

There was a tear before the blood began to pour. Again, cackling as he began to leave his room. There was no one, down either way of the halls. Well, no one down the halls. There were patients, however.

He strode down the halls, wiping blood all over the white sterile walls. He walked into the room of a young girl. She was dying, a cancer patient. However, she was on the road to recovery, according to the clipboard at her feet. He let out a tsk as he walked up to her and gently touched her cheek.

“Poor child...” he whispered, rubbing his blood-soaked thumb along her skin. “God will take you, I promise…” He turned to the saline drip IV that led to the crease of her arm. He pulled the tube from the bag and began to let his wrist drip into the bag. He then reinserted the tube.

Suddenly, the little girl’s eyes snapped open. Her mouth widened, and she stared up at him. She choked, and then writhed. Her hands clawed at the sheets and her legs cramped. Then, her eyes were melting, her tongue boiling in her mouth. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air. He watched as her skin blackened and her teeth charred. And then it stopped. He turned and trotted down the hall.

The next room, there was a man that had been in a car accident. He placed the blood into his IV and left without waiting for the man’s reaction.

And then… another young boy. Maybe about the age of ten. He had been beaten to a pulp. However, as the angel neared, he shrank away. He shook as he stared up at the bleeding man. The angel turned his head and smiled. His skin receded from his teeth, which were filed. His eyes were silver, and his wrists and hands were smeared with blood. The boy’s breath hitched. The man stood beside the boy’s bed, his smile gone now.

A thin line was all that he could see. A few minutes passed, and the boy began to calm. He took in a deep breath, and relaxed, almost like they had just become friends. The angel leaned over the boy, who didn’t withdraw. His silver eyes were hollow and ringed with blood. The boy, however, did not wince. And then suddenly, the angel bit down on the boy’s face.

A sickening crunch of the boy’s skull sounded and the boy let out a scream. He cried and tried in vain to shove the elder boy off his body. However, his hands were restrained as the angel gnawed on his face. The skin was slowly torn from his head, and his eyes were pulled from their sockets.

He sobbed as the flesh was torn from his mouth. The angel jerked back, swallowing the boy’s flesh in one gulp. As he pulled back from his work, he examined it. Flesh hung off the boy’s jaw, and he was still alive, crying. His voice was feeble as he cried.

The angel released his wrists. The boy hyperventilated from his lack of a face, and he turned to the side, his hair falling onto his sticky red skull. And then, he was gone. Happily, the angel skipped down the hall. He smeared blood all over the walls as he did. In his wake, he left crying and screaming men and women.

His veins were all over the floor as he cackled. Suddenly, he felt weak. Light-headed and dull. He stumbled to a halt beside a door. No. God was restricting him. But why? Why was God holding him back so he couldn’t deliver the souls unto him?

He slid down the wall, smearing blood on his back. His veins bubbled and burned. There was a tearing in his shoulder, and he let out a number of deafening screams. God was tearing away his wings. The pain was too much and the angel thrashed. A wet thud sounded and the angel turned his head. He could see, outlined in red, his left wing. It then disappeared into dust.

The angel was now human. His mutilated veins drained of his life. He began to laugh, to cackle.

His vision was leaving him, however so was the pain. His grin split his lips and tore up his throat. Laughing. God made him human, however, he was still an angel. He laughed to himself, screaming into the night of his angel heritage, of his relation to his brothers Gabriel and Michael.

Newspaper Report, New York August 24th, a week ago. In the Western Ainia Hospital, there were six bodies found. Police say that the bodies were all burnt, from the inside. All the victims except one had red liquid inside their IV drips. However, there were no clear signs of the cause.

Two of the bodies were of children. One was a boy with his face ripped from his skull. Police said he died after the fact. The sixth body was that of a young boy, whose identity is still to be determined. Upon closer inspection, it seemed he was the cause of the red liquid, as his veins were ripped open. Beside the place he lay, there was a very detailed outline of what looked to be an angel’s wing with dust in the middle. On the wall, beside the boy, written in the boy’s blood was a message: “All hail God, the mighty savior.”