Friday, January 28, 2011

Seraphina's Regret

Todays Friday Flash is a tribute to Valentine's Day, which is coming up.  Oh how I hate that day, lol.  I hope you enjoy my story of Seraphina, a fallen angel with regrets.

Seraphina's Regret
by Lisa McCourt Hollar

Charlie looked up from his work, picking up the refuse people threw in the street, to look at the darkening sky. Where it had been a sunny day just a few moments ago, it was now dark, the sky filling with ominously black storm clouds. Charlie looked back at the prison guard to see if he showed any signs of calling them back in, but the asshole was leaning up against the truck, looking at his cell phone and not paying any attention to the sky.

‘Probably browsing the web and looking at porn,’ Charlie thought ruefully. ‘Why would he care if we get wet anyway? It starts raining; he’ll just sit inside the truck, dry as bird, while we do all the dirty work.’

“Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.” Charlie’s dad’s words came back at him, echoing loudly in his head as thunder boomed overhead. Lightning flashed and the guard looked up from his phone to scan the sky.

“Damn weather man,” Wade bitched, shoving his phone back in his pocket, “he swore it was going to be nice today, no rain, no heat, just a nice cool breeze. Dumbass.” Opening the truck door, he glanced over towards Charlie and the other prisoners that had been assigned to him today and almost laughed out loud to see them watching him, no doubt hoping he’d call them off their work duty. “Get back to work,” he yelled. “The state aint paying you to stand around and gawk.”

“The state aint paying us at all,” the guy next to Charlie quipped.

“Well,” Charlie said, his dad’s voice still raging in his mind, “I guess if you can’t do the time…”

The rain started before Charlie could finish his thought, which may be a good thing. George, the inmate he’d been speaking to, wasn’t known for his easy temper and the wrong word might set him off.

“What the hell!” George was looking at his hand, which appeared to be covered in blood. For a brief second, Charlie thought George had taken advantage of the guard’s lack of attention, to deal punishment out to another prisoner, but then he noticed that he was covered in blood himself. As panic began to break out around him, he looked towards the sky, wondering why the hell it was raining blood.


Gabriel let out a war hoop as he flew at the demon that had dared shoot an arrow in his direction. He thought this one was Cupid, though he wasn’t sure. It had been a long time since he’d seen any of the ‘former’ angels that had once graced Heaven with their presence, but Cupid was the insipid cherub that was known for carrying arrows and he looked the sort to cause the kind of chaos Cupid was known for.

The fiend dodged his sword and laughed, and obnoxious sound; more feminine that male and Gabe thought to himself, ‘Yep, that’s Cupid.’

All around him, angels were caught up in battle with Lucifer’s horde, which had attacked at dawn with no provocation. Had they gone insane, thinking they could take Heaven? Well, he’d show them and chase them back to hell, where they belonged. Another arrow shot at Gabriel, who just managed to avoid the pointy edge of insanity.

‘What is he playing at?’ Gabe wondered, turning to deal the imp a blow. His sword at the ready, he raced towards the rogue angel, pulling up short just before reaching him.

“I should have known!” Gabriel’s roar filled the heavens, rolling through the halls of glory. Around him the battle stopped as angels and demons alike looked towards the two immortal beings.

“Hi Gabe,” Seraphina said, waving at Gabriel from over Cupid’s shoulder.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m NOT interested! Now go home. I’m sure there’s some evil little demon somewhere down there that can make you happy.”

“But I want you,” Seraphina said, coming out from behind Cupid. She batted her eyelashes at her chosen, smiling mischievously at him.

“You made your choice when you followed Lucifer.”

Seraphina sighed, rolling her eyes and blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “He’s no fun anymore. All he talks about is souls and trying to collect as many as he can. And Valentine’s Day is coming up. Don’t you miss me…even just a little?”

“Nope,” Gabe said, placing his sword back in its sheath. “Now if you don’t mind, we’ve got work to do.” He glanced over at Michael, who was bleeding profusely, his blood pouring down on the Earth below. “Great! They’ll be talking about this for days. Blood falls from the sky…those televangelists are going to have a hay day.” Looking over his shoulder at his former mate, he scowled, snarling at the figure beyond her, “Cupid, put that arrow away! Don’t you think you’ve caused enough damage?”

The love urchin laughed, an annoying snigger, then put his arrow back in the casing on his back.

“Perhaps another day,” he called, as he led the horde away from Heaven’s gates and back into their realm. “You can’t avoid my arrow forever.”

“Try me,” Gabriel said, as he put in a requisition to clean up the mess below.


Charlie gazed at the sky in wonder as the clouds slowly moved out of the way and the sun appeared once again, smiling down on them. The bloody rain had stopped and a light, refreshing rain took its place, washing Charlie and the other inmates of the crimson gore that had covered them. George was on the ground, praying for forgiveness.

No one ever knew what had caused the blood to flow that day…the televangelists all had their theory, each one crying out for the world to repent, but eventually the talk stopped and everyone went back to normal; except for George, who claimed to have been reborn. He became a model prisoner, starting his own ministry from within the penitentiary.

Charlie never forgot the rain, telling the story to his granchildren. When they asked him why it had poured blood, he concocted a story, telling them about a lost love and a battle faught to try and win it back. He didn’t know why, but it felt right. And every year, when he told the story, a mishievious sprite would listen in on the story, longing for the love she’d lost when she’d impulsively chosen the wrong one.

copyright 2011 Lisa McCourt Hollar  All rights reserved.

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