The End Times
I was the first one to see a falling angel.
I was in my backyard stargazing, when a bright light streaked across the sky and a few moments later Gabriela smashed into my backyard.
She was really tall, I had to use two mattresses for her bed and move out most of the things in my living room to make room for her to sleep. She was very badly injured. Something had taken huge bites out of her chest, her eyes had been ripped out and one of her wings had been torn off. She spent most of her time unconscious and the rest gibbering in an unknown tongue.
She only spoke to me twice, once to tell me her name and the other time was to respond to a question I had asked her. “How did you get injured Gabriela?” I had asked. “War” she replied. She died a few hours after that.
In the following days, more and more angels fell from the sky. These angels however, were already dead, their bodies had been mutilated, sometimes so badly, that if not for their height and wings, we wouldn’t know for sure if they were angels. Surprisingly, while many people panicked, peace as a whole was kept and it only took a few days before the buses and trains were running on time again.
When the rain of corpses from heaven stopped, people were overjoyed. When huge cracks in the earth started to appear, they were less so. When fire and lava began to bubble up through the cracks, people rushed to monasteries, churches, mosques, and temples, anywhere they thought they might find answers. When the earth rumbled, and the cracks opened to spew out a horde of demons, we finally understood.
You see, the demons were all dead. Their bodies had been mutilated, just like the angels were. I thought that heaven and hell were in a war against one another, but they were actually fighting together. Against something else, something worse.
And it had won.