Brone POV introduce Michael

BRONE

He shoved her off with more force than he needed to and heaved out of bed. Her breathing was too loud, too rapid, too satisfied, too annoying. All of them annoyed him in some manner. His body craved the attention and physical contact of another -any other- but his mind never would allow him complete enjoyment.

He stood at the balcony in the pouring rain, his clothes still lying on the floor behind him. Even if someone were sitting on his balcony they couldn’t see through the dense sheet of rain falling. Not that he even cared. The torrential downpour was nature’s white noise; it washed the people from the streets and offered a loud shushing for all who listened. Most complained about the rain, especially this hard and long, but Brone was drawn to the sound. It had brought him to the balcony in the first place, but his mind took flight.

He was a lifetime away in a garden with his mentor. Listening intently to a lesson on the importance of one plant or anothers mechanics. There wasn’t a plant, flower, tree, vine, or grass that hadn’t flourished in Raphael’s care. When Brone showed interest in the garden and saw that it wasn’t a collage of reds, blues, greens, yellows, purples, and oranges; but mimicked the varying shades of the sea, earth, sunset, sunrise, rumbling storm clouds; Raphael was certain Brone would be a natural.

Using the softest of breaths Raphael demonstrated how the seeds of each living thing could be harvested and reproduces a variation of the same plant.

“Much like the human beings that he created. They are joined together and with great love and preparation there is a new life created from their very seeds.” He continued delicately forming a crevice in the lush soil to encase the seed he cradled gently in one hand. “Of course we both know that isn’t exactly true with the humans. Love isn’t necessary to create but it is essential for the infants and youth to flourish.”

Brone enjoyed every moment spent with Raphael and the offered wisdom especially after Lilith was gone. The garden had a canopy of white clouds bursting with moisture frequently. One moment the colors were in groups of similar shades and in another glance they divided with pops of colors throughout. Raphael circulated the flowers often, enjoying the different feelings each subtle change would provoke. Brone enjoyed nothing more than standing there admiring his mentors work. In the hours he stood there watching, learning, enjoying he never imagined that he would have to rely on his feeble memory to see those colors again.

“Brone.” The voice said.

( his vision vanished.) The rain was now steadily dripping and the light of a new day casting shadows on the streets bellow. He felt the room and he was alone besides the voice speaking to him. He must have been standing here for hours. He never heard the girl leave or anyone approach. He didn’t bother to turn around. He knew who would be standing there and exactly what Michael had come for.

“If you can’t dispose of them at least employ someone to do what you aren’t...capable of. We don’t need another raving drug addict causing unneeded attention to us.” Brone turned around to meet Michaels cold dead eyes.

Michael a once honored General, the first created. He was most in his liking, a solid carved statue, electric green eyes and a permanent grin. Beauty beyond comparison. Neither his features nor his body had changed much over the centuries roaming this barren land. Now in human form he was an under lord of prostitution, murder, drugs, and deceit. Far from the honored Chief of Angels he was created to be. How Michael had fallen from the admired immortal to this scum was a tight lipped secret. Sure the rest of them had their speculations, but Michael and the few who knew the truth never spoke of it. With all this he still managed to cause doubt within the angels collecting them as they fell from grace.

“I won’t kill them. I won’t accept anymore you send. I am nothing more than a pathetic human shell but I refuse allow you to offer me soulless female carcasses as an apology for your ruthlessness.” Brone spat with his back to Michael as he got dressed.

Unamused laughter rumbled from Michael and Brone spun around to see the sadistic pleasure on his face. “Righteousness” Michael said. “A quality I can always count on from you. The very same quality that caused your doubt isn’t it.”

Seething, Brone watched and did nothing as Michael strode across his room with one hand strumming his goatee. He stopped at the dark wood robust chest of drawers. Animatedly took a miniature solid gold candelabrum from his pocket. He held it to the light and watched as the red liquid covering the base dripped to the floor. He eyed Brone for recognition. The girl must have tried to steal it before she left, Brone realized. Smiling Michael wiped the blood from the bottom and placed it in between the gaudy trinkets laid out upon the dresser and it’s identical.

“Are my accommodations for you not adequate? Do I not provide so that your every need be met and beyond?” He didn’t want an answer. “Yet your willing to spit in my face by not accepting a gift. One that your body craves.” He walked around and visually itemized the belongings in the room. “You not only use the gifts but then you drift away and allow them to take what they want from your room.”

“Correction” Brone countered. “They take what they want from a room in a house owned by mortals, you’ve tricked. (tell about previous families Michael has taken from in other countries and states) Not you, or me.”

Raising a hand to silence Brone from any other interruptions, Michael finished. “They freely give everything they have to thank me for our services to their part of this retched land.” He paused before continuing probably mentally patting himself on the back for his charitable nature.

“You are in debt to me, you were practically dead when they brought you here. I spared nothing to save you. I risked our own safety to make certain that you would fully recover. And you did completely.” Pausing to look over in disgust in Brones direction.

“Only to become a sniveling spineless brat. I could replace you with 20 more capable and willing right now and throw you to the streets or send you to your creator for the final time. Do you think he will have mercy on you? Do you think he will welcome you home and offer his kingdom to the soulless?” Michael continued not seeking an answer.

“That is what you are now. A soulless shell. A serial murderer on death row can at least ask for forgiveness and perhaps even receive it. You threw the only gift worth keeping away; eternity in paradise. And now I offer you all of this” he said with arms stretching to either side of him. “And you chose to take it for granted.”

Brones veins throbbed with rage under his shuddering muscles and his chest ached from holding his breath. He let the air he held hiss out from his teeth, relieving the pressure on his taut jaw.

Michael standing in front of Brone, kept his arms stretched out wide, crossed his legs, hung his head. “Do you think his son could save you now?” He looked up toward the sky dramatically.

“Do you honestly think he sent his worthless human son to be murdered by filthy sinners to save You?”

Still laughing Michael turned to leave but pivoted around on his heels as he opened the door and said, “Be down by 9. I have a job for you.” He left Brone still quaking with anger; his teeth were aching with the pressure.

As angry as he was he knew Michael was right. He had no other choice but to do what he was told, or be left on the streets to fend for himself. He had seen what happened to the others that hadn’t been given half the chance Michael had given him; never taught how to control their urges. They ended up tied down to a gurney in psych wards or prisons surrounded by easy prey.

Brone lived with Michael, Azreal, Lilith, Beliel, and their large group of fallens for 3 years now and all the change that was promised from the beginning had never come. Michael chose Brone to be his personal right hand man from the moment he was revived from his fall. At first Brone felt like the chosen pupil amongst the others and was gracious for the honor. Shaken and confused by the lies that had been told to him to choose to fall, like so many before him, he fell prey to Michaels lies.