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a burning light. that's all they see.
the sound of scratching and ruffling feathers are heard somewhere in that light, with the quiet hush of pained whispers and prayers.
ghost wishes it could help. the angel is wailing, crying out to its creator that damned it. made in the heavenly gates, only to be looked down upon. was it even part of that family to begin with?
the puppet looks down at the gaping hole it left behind on their chest. their body feels light and weak, only able to move their limbs inch by inch. it hurts, and they want it to return back home.
oh, how the angel hates the puppet. a sinful body, made by another sinful creature. its existence was unwanted, a plant that never wished to be placed and nurtured. what was thought to be a gift of life, was one of shame instead.
scorching blood stains the floor, as eyeballs stare upwards towards the angel. its body is always healing, yet always being damaged by its own. stinging sensations scream at it to stop but it can't. the pain is deserved and just, for the disappointment it brought to its family.
it tried to change, to look for Him. its family wished for the same thing too. it was them who wanted it the most, not the angel. they placed that fear and doubt in its heart. the fear of Him, the fear of being struck down if it didn't follow His ways. it failed time and time again.
'i don't deserve this body. i don't deserve this identity,' it thinks to itself. the angel can only see the truth of its faults. scars are riddled on its chest and various places. poor attempts to change its shape into something that it wasn't made with.
how could it do such a thing? that body was made for you, it was made by Him. and here you are, tainted and imperfect. it can only give out broken sobs, fingers digging into their eye sockets to pluck out more once again. the cycle continues.
ghost can only watch in horror as the angel destroys its once holy body. the entrails of the puppet pulsate and throb against them. for once, it actually wished for host to be here. he can fix it, he can fix their body like he always does. but he's nowhere to be seen. they can only feel the emptiness of its body laying limp on the floor.
perhaps host wouldn't do anything. he always seemed wary around angels, and maybe it wouldn't be any different. yet, it doesn't matter. he needs to be here, he can't leave ghost behind now. tears fill their eyes at the thought of their host gone and done for.
they cry out in pain as the angel grips tightly at their organs and limbs, clawed fingers digging into flesh and bone. it hates how it got here, what it came to be, how this body is sinful in nature. limbs tear and bleed as the angel forcefully yanks out the puppet's arm. ghost's voice is hoarse, filled with pain and sorrow as they can only lie still while the angel rips and tears through.
'it's what we deserve. it's what you deserve.'
they don't want to, but their head nods in agreement. yes, yes i do! punish me for my sins, and deliver me from evil. ravage this body apart and leave the rest for the Devil himself. it's what they all wanted. this abomination can't last much longer in this world they were never meant to be in.
ghost feels soft wings press against their body as the angel drops down in despair. it holds the puppet close, blood and gore staining the glowing skin of the angel. it only mumbles out apologies and caresses the damaged vessel. probably not for ghost, but for someone else instead.
the puppet can't stop crying. wheezing breaths and choked sobs are the only thing they can muster, words completely beyond their current state. they want to apologize to it, for being a failure for Him. they deserve better than this, something better than this horrible body that others seemed to hate so much.
they can only watch again as the angel claws at their skin, blood dripping from the marks.
the cycle continues.