"I never thought," Kal Kaelos gritted between a mouthful of blood, "that God is a woman."
All it took was a car that had not stopped the light and there would be no more fighting. No more chances.
His fingers dug into the pavement. Helpless. Frustrated.
The golden eyes that surveyed the dying young man laying in a pool of his own slowly draining life curled slightly closed in amusement. Even beneath the evening rain, a certain light seemed to cling to every aspect of her being: faintly from her long wavy golden hair came specks of light that glimmered like summer fireflies. The woman - no, the entity - looked no older than nineteen. The cruel golden gaze filled with ancient knowledge was such a contrast on the petite heart shaped face.
She was dressed in a simple white dress, seemingly unbothered by the chilly evening rain. The city had altered between unusually hot or unusually cold as of the recent March. Tonight was cold, as brutal as winter, but it seemed to not phase her at all.
"Why the surprise?" She asked, her tone teasing. "Did you ever think if Gabriel had to be a mere messenger, or if Mary being the Queen of Heaven could be a bit more literal?"
He laughed at that, or at least he tried.
"…well." He choked out. "You are indeed as twisted as the legends."
The grip she held on her umbrella was lightly casual and even through the haze of his blurring vision, he could see she had leisurely twirled the handle. Clearly bored, uncaring. He wonders what would be next: the judgement?
He coughed, the blood in his lungs swelling. With light steps she approached him, the blood on the ground not even staining her shoes.
He coughed again, the pain unbearable, and looked up to her smiling face.
She's squatting next to him now. So close, that he could see the flecks of flamelike embers in her golden eyes.
He lowered his own.
"You're crude," She placed her fingers beneath his chin as she forced him to look back up. "But you'll do."
In the haze of his pain, he could not protest as her fingers deftly pushed something into his mouth. A small, golden orb that was no bigger than a piece of chocolate. It burned like molten fire, a pain worse than his torn body.
"Swallow. If you want to live."
Tears stung his vision, the pain overwhelming.
He obeyed.