Yes! I’m actually posting about writing! It’s been, what, months? Goodness time flies. So, just what is this post going to be about? I’m glad you asked.

A couple of months ago I was introduced to a very fascinating (and slightly addicting) app call Destiny’s Handbook.

If you’ve already heard of it, then props to you! I absolutely love this app because it generates random characters with various traits, like race, personality, weapon of choice, even a companion!

After making a few characters, I came across a few that I would love to actually write about, so I decided that a great way for me to improve my writing is tp come up with short stories about these characters.

So, here is the first one that I finished! It’s a little on the dark side, so be warned. There will be death. I will post the story, and then add the prompt at the end. Please let me know what you think and what I can improve on. The entire purpose of this is to practice writing, so I want to know what I need to work on!

Thank you so much!

The night air was cold against his face, a stark contrast to the warmth he had previously felt. But this was his choice, this was what he wanted. So what if the light and warmth is gone? This darkness and cold was his only friend now.

Well, almost only. As if summoned, a large snake wound it’s way around his legs, it’s cape-like skin flaring around it’s head.

He smiled and placed a hand on the giant naja’s head, a very loyal companion that never left his side. “Are you ready to finish what we started, Saphira?” He asked.

The snake nodded and slithered down the hillside, entering a dark, silent crypt. He followed, slinging his pitch black shotgun over his shoulder. Finally, he would fulfill his task.

The crypt was empty save for a few sealed coffins, their residents having long ago left this world to move on to the next. He ignored these and approached a large statue of an angel that stood in the back, her wings spread out protectively over the dearly departed. He used to do the same thing, but that was a long time ago.

Saphira wound up the statue and draped itself across the wings, weighing them down. The wings seemed to effortlessly slide downward with a loud click and a scraping stone echoed through the crypt. A door opened next to the statue, revealing a set of stairs leading down.

He walked down the stairs, loading his shotgun as he went. It was dark, but he knew this path by heart and didn’t need any light. He heard Saphira slither down the stairs behind him, his footsteps the only other noise in the stairwell.

Soon. Soon, he would get his revenge. They humiliated him, mocked him. They took his wings! He could still feel the holes in his back where his beautiful, white feathered wings used to be. They would pay most dearly for taking his prized possession.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped. It was pitch black down here, not a single speck of light to be seen. The dark used to scare him, but not anymore. He stepped forward until he knew he was in the center of the room.

Almost instantly a deep red glow spread out from his feet, illuminating a circle of runes and symbols surrounding him. The glow filled the room and revealed a large stone tablet resting against the back room, covered in similar runes and symbols.

“So this is where you get your ‘revelations’,” a soft voice called out behind him.

He didn’t bother to turn around, he knew who it was, “This is where I get the truth,” he said in a matter of fact tone.

He could hear them stepping closer. “You know this isn’t truth! If it was, then it wouldn’t have killed hundreds of people!”

He shook with rapidly growing anger, “No one listened to me! They didn’t do what I told them! Otherwise, they would have lived!”

“They did do what you said, that’s the problem! You should have known better than to take counsel in a piece of demonic rock!”

He turned around and glared at the darkened figure standing at the base of the stairs, “You don’t know what I’ve seen! What I’ve learned!”

The figure took a couple of steps forward, allowing the red light to menacingly illuminate her long white dress and golden wings, “You are nothing more than a false prophet. You used your powers and authority to convince people to follow you, ultimately guiding them to their doom.”

He raised his shot gun and aimed it at her heart, his eyes and voice cold, “I did what I believed was right.”

The woman sighed, her eyes full of sorrow, “I know. I just wish that you would listen to reason.”

He cocked the gun, “Reason has no place here.” He fired, a red hot bullet flying at the woman.

The woman flew up into the air to avoid the bullet, her wings scraping the ceiling. She flared her wings and thousands of golden feathers flew towards her foe, the edges now razor sharp.

He instinctively moved his shoulders in order to fly as well, but was painfully reminded of the new handicap. At the last second he rolled out of the way, the feathers slashing his clothing and exposed skin. He stood, black blood dripping from the various cuts on his body.

The woman landed and stared at the blood in horror. “What happened to you?”

He grinned despite the pain, “a small sacrifice for the power I have obtained!” He raised his free hand towards the wall next to him and a loud grating noise fills the room. Rocks and boulders fly free from the wall and aim towards him until he is surrounded by an armor made of rock. He laughed, “You have no hope in touching me now!” He raised his gun, now glowing red like the bullets, and fired off a couple of shots.

Due to her shock, the woman was too slow in dodging the bullets and one of them grazed her arm. Brilliant light shone through the wound as though a door had been opened to the sun. She hissed in pain and covered her arm with her hand, light shining through her fingers.

He made a disgusted noise, “you look like a burning target now. How can you hope to hide from me?”

She narrowed her gaze at him, her face hardening, “I don’t need to hide.” She released her arm and pulled out a glowing bow, light etched into the white wood in swirling patterns. An arrow appeared in her hand and took aim, her eyes never leaving her old friend.

He laughed, “You really think you’ll beat me with that?” He raised his gun again, “you cannot hope to hit me with my defenses.”

She said nothing and drew the arrow back, the brilliantly white string taunt. She heard the gun click, and with a silent apology she released her arrow as the gun fired.

The arrow narrowly whizzed past the fallen angel, and for a split second he grinned as his bullet hit it’s mark, but a loud cracking noise sounded behind him that caused his heart to sink.

Turning around he saw the arrow embedded deep into the stone tablet, light spreading through the cracks. Almost instantly pain exploded throughout his body, burning like fire, and the rock armor fell to the ground. He doubled over in pain, collapsing onto the ground as he felt his body try to tear itself apart.

He heard a slithering sound and felt Saphira curl around him, attempting to comfort her partner, and smiled sadly to himself. Loyal to the bitter end.

Looking up he sees the woman struggling to kneel in front of him, light shining brightly through the gaping hole in her chest. She reached out to him and he shrunk away. “Don’t touch me!” He spat out before gasping in pain. She reached out again and cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to look up at her. “I’m so sorry, my friend,” said said softly, pain lacing her voice.

He attempted to glare at her, but pain flashed across his face instead, “I am not your friend!” he spat at her and pulled his head away from her grasp.

She winced as sharp pain seemed to spike through her body, but gave no other indication of her injuries. “You will always be my friend, no matter what you do,” she told him.

He chuckled, which turned into a deep cough, sour, black blood now spilling out of his mouth. He could feel his body shutting down, his lower legs already numb. He didn’t have much longer. “I stopped being your friend a long time ago.”

The woman sighed with a sad smile, “You always were so dramatic,” her tone grew more serious, “why did you do this?”

All feeling in his chest was gone now. Fear crept into his mind; he was actually going to die. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. This was my choice!” he started coughing again, a new wave of blood spraying onto the cobble floor.

The woman clutched at her chest, the light pouring out starting to dim. She jumped at a cold touch on her wrist, but settled when she saw it was Saphira’s tail. She smiled warmly at the naja, the only connection left between the two dying angels.

He watched the exchange, conflicting feelings of betrayal and sorrow flitting across his mind. He pushed the feelings away; the naja would never wish to harm her previous owner, no matter what had transpired between the two angels. He looked at the dying light, now starting to look like a candle flame, “You’re dying. You should go back and heal.”

The woman shook her head, “no, I won’t leave you alone. Not again.”

He laughed, barely noticing the lack of feeling in his arms, “and you saw I’m dramatic.” Coughing overtook him again and darkness edged his vision. This was it. “To be honest, I’m glad it was you who killed me.”

He didn’t hear her sobbing, nor the goodbyes she whispered. He only heard silence as he slipped into the darkness for the final time.

The prompt was

You are a: Heartless Angel

the: Guilty Prophet

Destined to: Pacify your Basement

Your Weapon: Satanic Shotgun

Special Ability: Magnetic Soul

Your Companion: Giant Naja