The Angel Told Me So

He summoned me to the forest. As dark the night was, the moon cut a clear path for me to follow into a clearing. I counted this as a small blessing. When I reached the end of the trail the angel stood there, with his foot on a stone.

His eyes were fire. He told me in a voice that was so clear, so loud, that I should come to him.

I had never seen the likes of him before. He was beautiful. His frame was that of a soldier: tall and thin, wiry, muscular. His hair was light. And his mouth, rounded and soft, smiled at me. There was a form of brightness behind him. The light was so bright that it hurt my eyes, but I could see they were wings.

He said come, and I came, even though everything inside of me told me to turn away.

He handed me a shovel, and told me to dig. A treasure would soon be revealed to me.

Not knowing what to expect, I did as instructed. I dug until he told me it was enough.
By then, the sky had begun to lighten. The dark would soon pass into morning.
I paused. He took the shovel from my hand, and tossed it away.

He touched my hand as he did so, and the feel of his flesh made shivers run through me. So bright and beautiful he was that I had expected his touch to be heat. Instead, it was the deepest of cold.

He bent near, and a draft of his icy breath touched my cheek. I stood, unable to move. And he pulled me to him and kissed my mouth.

His kiss was ecstasy; I felt as if I were floating, my heart beating too fast. He pressed himself hard against me. Beneath my half closed eyelids, I looked into his face. I saw the light of his eyes turn into pitch black, like crude oil spreading through water.

I stumbled backwards, trying to get free of his grip . And I fell into the shallow pit that I had dug.

"Mmmmm," he growled, the low, guttural sound coming from deep in his throat. He licked his lips. "So very sweet, you taste. You must ask, if an Angel should tempt you into the woods, one important question. What is his name?"

My peripheral vision was shrinking, until there was nothing but him, his bright wings and his now black eyes. I knew the answer, but I could not help myself from asking.

"What is your name?"

He smiled, and the terrible beauty of his face was all coldness, like his breath, like his mouth, and emptiness like his eyes.

"Dear one. My name is Death."