Free Angel of the Apocalypse by Magnus Hansen

leave Heaven? Everyone loved you. We could have spent an
eternity praising God and basking in His glory. If not for your
actions, not a single human on Earth would have known hatred or
sorrow. Now look at this world, a twisted mockery of the paradise
that God created. Why?”
    His
pale face cracked into a smile. Head canted to the side, the
Antichrist lifted his arms and danced in mockery of the archangel's
questions. “I am the greatest of His creations, equal to God
himself. Why did He create me? Why did He create anything?” The
Fallen One stopped dancing, and gazed into Michael's eyes. “He
did it because He could. Because He was bored and lonely. Because He
wanted to challenge Himself. God created this world like a child
creates sandcastles, who relishes in its destruction as the tide
comes in and destroys it. Each person on this planet holds the same
power of creation and destruction. Each person struggles with those
choices every day. God did not even give the angels the capacity to
judge between right and wrong, and that is why I left Heaven. Because
there was no choice, only constant singing and merriment. I despised
it all. What is life without choice? Slavery, that's what it is. And
that is why you must die.”
    At
that moment, the Antichrist changed. Red scales began to appear on
his face. Leathery wings sprouted from his back. He began to grow to
enormous size, changing from a man into a gargantuan red dragon.
“What is life?” asked the Beast. “Is it not the
power to choose your own destiny? Am I not the beacon of free will?
All who praise God must die. The angels and Christians are simple
minded fools, who willingly submit to oppression and slavery. It ends
now!”
    And
with that, the great Beast roared, and a gout of brimstone flame shot
from his mouth and incinerated all before it. The sand on the beach
burnt to glass, and the Mediterranean Sea boiled and hissed. The
Archangel tried to shield himself, but to no avail. His wings burnt,
his skin blackened and charred, Michael barely clung to life. He
slumped to the ground, smoke rising from his blistered skin.
    The
Beast spoke, “Didn't the prophecies say that you would defeat
me? Revelations 12:7 I believe: 'Then war broke out in heaven.
Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and
his angels fought back. And the dragon lost the battle.'" The
Beast reared up his great horned head and laughed, "Yet another
prophecy failed, it seems."
    The
beast stood triumphant. He paused to savor the moment of his victory,
then the dragon changed back into his human form - a business man in
a gray pinstriped suit. From his left hand appeared a violin, and in
his right hand appeared a bow. The Antichrist put the violin up to
his chin and played maniacally, and laughed as he watched the world
burn before him. He threw his head back and danced like only the
devil could. And when he was done, he discarded the violin, tossing
it to the blackened earth like a discarded toy.
    He
walked over to the barely conscious archangel and put his right hand
around Michael's throat, and lifted the angel off his feet. The
Antichrist's left hand began to change - each finger becoming a
hypodermic needle filled with green liquid. A smirk creased his lips
as the Antichrist violently thrust the needles into Michael's face.
    The
archangel screamed so loudly that the mountains shook. Green fluid
filled Michael's eyes and streamed out of his nose and mouth as his
body went limp. With the last of his strength, the archangel uttered
his final words. “You are wrong, fallen star. Man chooses to
fight his evil nature because of love. That is what you are rebelling
against. Like a petulant child, you pulled away from God's greatest
gift. How can you understand faith and hope, when you can't even
understand love.” With those final words, Michael's head
slumped forward, as the last of God's light left his body.
    The
Antichrist smiled a Cheshire grin, holding the now dead body