"You suffered, the blood messing up everything pure in you. One thing that you should have learned: one could not go into the realm of mortals without the defilation of sin. Yes I know but the sin that corrupted you didn't come from your heart it sprung from the mortal's wretched heartfelt desires. They had betrayed you don't you see? Where is the salvation in this Lord? What would one life be, many more blood will be lost and still where will be the holiness? You have forged everything with gore, the rivers would soon dry out, the water of life extinguished, only redness would fill the emptiness…the thick plasmatic substance now oozing from you…oh God why? After this philanthropy where would this lead you, do you think they will exalt your name? NO, you are mistaken only one thing, one thing they will do…they will damn you!

I have my God, seen and why my Lord do you let me love you when my very existence is the emblem of our defiance! I have fallen, and in your gaze I fall deeper still. You know how much I love you? I love you enough to be the suffering that will be the cause of worship in your name. You have defeated me long ago- my tenacity, my rebellion, you knew of it. I continue to be your servant and even if they hate me, those wretched humans still long to be with me. Just like you Lord, you could only be so human as that. I am an angel, I was an angel until I bore the seal the curse to defy you for eternity; that was my punishment. But why! Why does this loneliness, what is this? Death my brother, I could not protect him. HE is now as numb as that of a stone. Am I that deleterious to have caused death's own prejudice? Why Lord do I continue to ask, why do I have this…this…this SOUL!"

This man he prayed, I heard his prayers. I saw his tears. I saw his beauty and I saw how he rots in it. An angel he is, I have seen pictures of them a thousand of times but he's nothing like them. Nothing like the picture on those colored paintings, even the fallen ones, nothing close except for the eyes. His eyes were of gold, melancholic, gloomy and yet effete with despair was he pray there kneeling, pleading. He pleads with God who would only listen.

Ah this visions, what is this? This is all too familiar…why can't I remember? Where am I? This dense fog that surrounds me sends a shiver down my whole being. I am lost and my anonymity remains solely to me. All the things that surround this forsaken wood have some knowledge of who I am. They glare, agonizing glassy stares by the moss covered trees. It smells, the ground opening smells that of matricide. The earth howls in pain opening up. The trees are falling down with me, the crumbling ground burying me deep, deep, down. I close my eyes I feel nothing. Wet, its wet, I can't breathe! Someone, something is pulling me, I can't seem to open my eyes…no! I…blood…blood…whose blood? And beside me I grapple for something to stand up, heads, heads in blood! They are all looking at me, with cruel eyes, calling me, chanting

"Why did you kill us? You, why did you anger him?"

For the first time I knew I had a heart, that this heart wanted to come out, anxious, fearful as I listen to a cold stealthy laughter. The heads in the pool of blood still continues to ask me stare and wait, telling me "He's here! He's here, you'll see boy, you'll pay for your invasion…."

I listen, the footsteps getting closer, my heart about to explode. I could only hear the wails, the gnashing of teeth those severed heads gave but I knew that with every step the phantom took, skull smashed and I thought mine would share the same fate. I was wrong…

Cold hands touched me, pulled me up with strength. I as afraid but I knew this grip, a faint memory of this dreary, lifeless touch. Steadily he raised me up and held me in his arms. I slowly open my eyes, my vision was blurred but I could only perceive something bright. He wipes the blood from my face with his hands. A faint image was formed, it wasn't light but platinum hair, silken and magnificent, the figure I saw earlier inside the Byzantine church was more angelic. His hands that continued to hold me were delicate and gentle, his pallid skin was deathly white. He was wearing a robe like, gossamer cloth that hung to his slender form, the white of it stained with this gore dripping from me. He was a he but this pronoun could and would not describe the genderless look of his whole appearance. The gold eyes I saw earlier were now stern, reflecting a gaping auburn haired boy, blood staining the lad's blanched skin that's not as grimly white as the beholder's. The young man as I look closely enough, looked filthy and forsaken, he who was in fact me. Age unknown even to myself-estimate twenty years of age.

"Your way older than that you know…" for the first time he spoke after putting me down and caressing my face. "Let me tell you more of how you currently look brother. Yes your hair is that of unkempt mat of auburn, immaculate skin, fairly built, yes a structure sturdy like that of a man and oh gorgeous eyes clover with a hint of hazelnut and with a touch of hellfire becomes a shade of red. You are…"

A/N This is not the end I assure you I didn't encode the rest…I'm checking if anyone will be interested on this "death" story so Please, Please review :