by Callum Pearce
Swept down from heaven on the wind of Satan’s expulsion. My crime—merely witnessing dissent. I hurtled towards this filthy rock as flames ripped through my wings. In heaven, there was no pain. Now, every newly awakened nerve screams at me constantly.
They scream too, those creatures he loves so much. They howl and struggle as my knife rips through their flesh. They don’t understand my gift to them. That which I am forever denied. I return them to the painless place, free them from the misery that I must endure. His children are always rising, angels can only fall.
Callum Pearce is a Dutch storyteller, originally from Liverpool. A fiction writer published multiple times across a variety of platforms. Lover of the magical as well as the macabre. He lives in a foggy old fishing town in the Netherlands with his husband and a couple of cat-shaped sprites.