Angels Of Retribution Novels & Stories

"I wanna know about the angels, about this war," she said, trying to present her question without being rude. "I wanna know exactly what's going on." "Very well," Jaron sighed. "If you really want the full story…" He cleared his throat before continuing. "The angels are a race of egotistical demons. We aren't even sure what their race was originally called. They adapted the name 'angel' because they considered themselves the messengers of God. They believe in 'survival of the fittest,' but they're the ones who decide just who lives and who dies. We retaliated against them…after suffering a tremendous loss. We've been fighting them ever since, trying to keep other planets safe, planets that t

before he left. "You," I whispered not being able to look at his face. He was covered in blood which I'm sure wasn't his. "This is my job, Andrea. I have to do this," he said taking a few steps towards me. "This isn't the Theo I know," I whispered backing up, "This is a whole entire spawn of Satan." And I was right. With blood dripping from his clothes he looked the part too. He chuckled darkly and for some reason I wasn't scared. "That's where you're wrong," he whispered. My back hit the wall as backed away from him. He leaned closer and whispered, "I am the devil himself."

Itsuki said, which made Marcus frown in confusion. “Angel with devil horns? Why?” he asked. “The girls in our troops are called Angels. But since she’s the coldest and ruthless among them, they called her Angel with devil horns.” Mariko rolled her eyes as she put the weapons they had used earlier from the training back on its shelves.

Don’t kill us, please we beg of you,” The scared witches of the Gemini Coven begged for their lives but their pleas fell on deaf ears. Angelus sped towards the witches while using her claws to tear the flesh of the witches apart. “Ahh!! Wails and cries of the Gemini witches could be heard as Angelus was busy tearing their limbs apart, ripping their hearts out, pulling their hands and heads away from their bodies, and drinking their blood with no remorse in her face. The witches were defenseless against Angelus due to the fact that Angelus is a Tribrid and she was too fast for them to counter her attack with their magic.

They were ready to unleash their vengeance upon the man who had provoked their leader's wrath. As they made their way to the charity event, Jared felt a rush of emotions coursing through him. The weight of responsibility, the desire for vengeance, and the thrill of the impending confrontation mingled within him, creating a potent concoction of determination. Upon reaching the venue, the Seven-Eyed Dragon Mafia clan dispersed, blending into the shadows and darkness of the night. Jared, Ian, and Scott slipped into the crowd, their identities masked by skillful disguises. The tension in the air was palpable, but they maintained their composure, like predators patiently stalking their prey.

They are usually servants to higher-ranking demons, similar to an omega. God/goddess realm or ”Heavens” Gods/goddesses-Reference Greek mythology for any who are discussed Angels-any citizen in the Heavens that is not a God or Goddess. They are also immortal and wield white magic. Aside from white magic, their abilities include healing, communication through touch, aura reading (similar to mind reading but unable to hear specific thoughts), control over all the elements except fire, and telekinesis. High Guard-they directly protect the Gods and Goddesses, therefore, they are highly respected. There are 5: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, and Jeremiel.

His eyes suddenly opened to the now dark ceiling above them. Mouth gasped for oxygen. His brain fired a flare. Sanity coming back. “Stop.” And to his shock—the bastard did. The air stilled. Heavy. Wet. Flammable. Then— “J-just… don't leave any marks on my neck please,” Angel begged, voice was hoarse. ‘Nope. Sanity has not returned yet, you idiot,’ he scolded himself. Another beat passed. “Really?” the devil-like bastard asked with a sigh of relief.

The smoke from the sacrifice did not dissipate. Instead, it solidified into figures of surgical white and shadows of absolute black that lurked from the sanctuary’s rafters. Astaroth recognized them instantly: the Angels of Death, their void-scythes ready to claim Dorian’s body, and the “Executioners of Light”, faceless beings sent to tear Uriel from Carter’s form for permitting a romantic aberration on mortal soil. Astaroth let out a dry laugh, but Griselda, staggering, spat the words at him with urgency:

Loss is on one side of me, Amon on the other. The replacement leader of Sorren, Roxas, stands behind the throne, facing towards the the crowd, laughing like a maniac at them. I fight an eyeroll, knowing he's doing too much. One of the reasons that the sky has blackened is the wings of the fallen angels, and Nephilim flapped, looking like crows ahd overtaken the skies. Demons waited for my order, as the desire to run chaos ran high. They extend long forked tongues at the humans, licking their lips.

The woman staring back at me wasn’t Anastasiya Van Houten anymore… I was Valencia. She gave me her life. I had spent my entire life knowing exactly who I was. I had defined myself by the mission, by the kill. Relishing in the darkness like a demon. But now? I was something worse. Something stronger. My heart hardened. Malcom Reece had taken everything from us. And every single person who had played a part in our suffering—in Valencia’s suffering—would pay dearly. No mercy. No forgiveness. Only retribution. Valencia watched me for a long moment before she stood up, extending her hand to help me up.