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Angel Dictator x Happy Democracy 2010/#1

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Angel Dictator x Happy Democracy (2010)
Angel Diktátora a Šťastný Demokracie

It was a simple idea.
Your day, your day is coming . . .

The world was in ruins.

Such a simple task . . .
Something needed to be done.
With these wings, with these wings . . .

Was it a good idea to interfere?

Humans are such ugly creatures.

This would be an experiment then.

With no potential . . . none, none, none

It was a simple idea.

So simple, simple, simple . . .

Save the world.

Save the world
.

 

Chapter One- The Angel Experiment

“Music is well said to be the speech of angels” –Thomas Carlyle

    The president of New North America was a very lucky man. He had just received his very own guardian angel. In recent times, angels seemed to be in short supply. The world’s population had just suffered through a third world war. It seemed that people were still struggling to get their lives back in control. The economy was a mess. Society was a mess.

A second class angel named Marxie Carlyle stood impatiently outside the president’s bedroom window waiting. He knew that it was nearing midnight in the human world, and this was the perfect time to strike. To kill the president. This night was a perfect one for murder. Every house on the street had its lights turned out. Those who could afford electricity turned off all lights at night to save power. Marx figured that humans were quite hopeless and also were slow learners. Humans could not govern themselves. They were utterly stupid, rash and impulsive creatures. Heaven knew that their only hope was to send angel messengers down to set things right. There was only one rule. Save the world. Marx rolled his eyes, tapping one finger against the frosted glass window an inch away from his face. The world really did need saving. The world needed him.

“Too many wars. Too much fighting. Too much hate” Marx breathed in a silken whisper. He knew, in a place so deep and buried inside himself that he had almost forgotten it, that humans were essentially good. But they were damn terrible at choosing their leaders. Marx traced a lazy finger along the window sill and then carefully opened the window itself. He told himself again and again that there were no rules against what he was about to do. Killing was not Marx’s style, or the style of any other angel. He had always been a good angel. Murder was a sin. But could angels sin?

Marx let his leg hang over the window ledge, considering the choice he was making. With the president out of the way, he could take power without complications. Marx held his breath and advanced towards the sleeping man, letting his wings fall to touch the floor.  Between two hands he held a sharp knife, which flashed silver in the moonlight. The angel stood beside the president’s bed. His wings rose above his head with his hands as the dagger moved up and down to hit its target. The knife passed easily thought the man’s chest. The sticky red liquid pooling around the sheets and saturating the mattress smelled of death. It was sharp, metallic. The president barely made a sound, as if submitting to death, to his fate which had been decided by an angel. Marx decided that letting this incident linger in his mind would be unhealthy. He left wordlessly and flew away into the night. His heart was beating fast, so fast. Marx had never killed anyone. It was so horrible, so incomprehensible. But also in many ways it was the most thrilling thing he had ever done.

>>><<< 

Angel trainee Luxor Liberalis liked talking to herself. Especially when she was in a good mood. And in that early morning of light and pastel sunrise she was feeling very happy. Luxor was excited at the prospect of landing in the human world for the very first time. However, as with all angels, Luxor had been a human once herself. She didn’t want to remember her death, but every time she tried not to the day came back with stunning detail. She had been hit by a car on her way to work one day. She had been forced to walk because the bus was late. Luxe remembered the powerful and unforgettable lightning sound of metal against metal. A quick shock of pain and her life was over just like that. Being an angel should be so much better than anything she had known before. First there were her wings- grand white ones which were small but served their purpose. Then there was all the luxury of heaven to contend with. Clouds and beauty for as far as the eye could see.

“Angel mission! Day number one! Landing . . . success!” Luxe exclaimed as her feet lightly hit the ground. Although to everyone but her it was more or less a crash landing. Luxe had landed in the middle of a dry grassy field which was pockmarked with tents and refuse. Still she smiled. Like any good angel. To Luxe it was very important to be a good and honest angel. Not like Marxie for example. He was horrible, terrible and obviously up to no good. His wings were black for heaven’s sake. That should have been the celestial council’s first clue. But they trusted him. And he still wore his halo with pride. God, his pride was something to really be ashamed about. It was sick and wrong and wrong and sick. Marx’s self infatuated smile made Luxor want to retch.

The people around Luxe were screaming. Some even matched the torch and pitchfork cliché.

“A demon . . . a demon!”

“Doom from above!”

“The judgement day has come”

“Spare our lives, oh great one”

Luxor took a step back. She was confused. What reason would such gentle and poorly misguided creatures have to fear her? She had come to save them. The citizens of Europa. They were all so unique. And so very curious. Luxor blinked a few times and used her heavenly power to quiet down the crowd. She shook away her wings and halo which faded from view.

You are happy that I am here. This is the best day of your lives!

Suddenly the crowd started cheering. Small children were lifted in their parent’s arms to get a closer look. Some sensitive folks were even crying. But they were all smiling and happy. Dirty faces shone in the morning sun as everyone shared this brief moment of false euphoria. It was Luxor’s gift and priority to have the ability to make anyone happy with any situation. In most instances this power had short term affects. Soon people were frowning and wondering what this stranger was doing interrupting their bubble of oblivious joy by standing in their midst.

Luxor looked around and realized that these people were homeless. How sad this was, and how far the majority of the human race had fallen. It was important to say majority to avoid overgeneralization. In the distance Luxe saw the shape of a still functional but obviously crumbling city. She would have to head there and would gain power by using the most peaceful method of democratic election. It would be a happy democracy. And one day that happiness would be real.

>>><<< 

New North America was a bright land; however it was nowhere near as bright as the glorious sunshine that shone so pure above the clouds in heaven. Marx found himself walking down a strange and narrow alley. He had hidden his wings and halo and was now wearing a slightly used and grimy red sweater which he had found in a trash can. It was ripped and stained by the previous owner, but Marx didn’t mind. There were more despicable things to see.

Marx was in a polluted grey city. The sky was angry and a storm was brewing. All up in the air were the noises of fast cars and voices of people pushing each other around to get to wherever they thought they were needed most. Marx sighed in exasperation, leaning against one brick wall of the alley. When he looked up he could see the tattered remains of clothing hanging on wires and a crow tilting its head in his direction. A cold wind blew past the angel, but he didn’t feel the cold. What a miserable world Marx thought bitterly. Soon this mistake of a society would change and he would be the one to make that happen. There would be no crime, or poverty. It would be a perfect world. He would make it that way. Soon. And Luxe thought that she could do the same? How pathetic.

It was then that a man walked past Marx, giving him a dirty look. He scratched his stubble and stumbled towards Marx, holding a broken beer bottle in one hand. He was obviously too drunk to know where he was swinging it. Marx raised an eyebrow, but did not move from his spot.

“Hey faggot! What are you doing here? Are you looking for a fight?”

Marx laughed under his breath. 

“Someone as super intelligent as you should know that, shouldn’t you?”

The man’s expression changed. His face contorted with either rage or embarrassment.

“You little . . . who do you think you are?”

Marx assumed a look of surprise. He threw up his head and smirked. What. An. Idiot.

Marx knew exactly what to say. He had been trained for situations just like this one.

“I’m an angel. I love you!” Marx took a step forward, spreading his arms wide.

“That’s it you little creep. You are so dead!” the man rushed towards Marxie, catching him with the broken glass right under his ribs. The impact sent Marx wheeling back towards the wall. He gritted his teeth at the slight pain, but still his eyes widened. It was then that Marx remembered to scream. Absolutely as loud as he could as he fell and wrapped his arms around himself. The drunk man ran away. Soon he would be more than a memory. Marx pretended to pass out on the dirty concrete of the alleyway, spreading his limbs like he had just been hit by a truck or something larger. He made it look like he was in a great deal of pain. In reality, a wound such as this was nothing.

>>><<< 

Luxor found herself, later that afternoon drinking a strange red-brown beverage out of a tin cup in the presence of the tent villagers elder community. Certainly and enlightening experience thought Luxe as she made a face at the drink’s taste. The faces she saw around her were heavy with age, but also heavy with experience. These were the poorest victims of war. They had to live with their leader’s decisions. They were the ones who had lost so much, and received barely any compensation. And now they were living as nomads in the barren countryside, which had become unfertile after the most of the usable farmland had been turned into war ground. This was the new nation of Europa, which had received the hard backslap of the war, more than any other nation.

“So missus, where do you come from?” a middle aged woman asked Luxe, fingering the fringe of her threadbare scarf. Her eyes were narrowed with genuine curiosity.

Luxe paused, waiting a moment before answering. “Another region. I was sent here to stay with my mother . . . but . . . but she was announced dead the day after I arrived”

“Twas the fever that got her I reckon” murmured someone in the crowd, who held between their legs a steaming pot of unidentified meat stew. Luxor nodded solemnly, biting her lip.

The woman put a hand on Luxe’s shoulder and spoke up again

“I’ve been with this community for nearly a year now, and I know that it is not the type of place where one might look to for a new beginning”

“I don’t understand” Luxor admitted.

A man sitting near the back of the circle laughed. He closed his eyes as if trying to remember something, and wrapped the blanket over his shoulders more tightly around himself.

“How could you? How could anyone understand? All we can hope for now is that conditions improve and we are blessed with a new leader”

A youth beside him scoffed “And who would elect such a person? We can vote sure, but who ever votes for anything other than money? It’s all bribes and one big power struggle if you ask me”

“What if someone like me were to run for office” Luxe asked quietly, not bothering to look around for a response. She was waiting for the only inevitable answer. The answer that would save them.

“That . . . would be truly a gift from heaven”

Luxor smiled. She nodded affirmatively and everyone around her seemed to cheer her on. Now that she had the people’s support she could start a campaign to gain power through democracy and save the world. It was the one thing that she could do to change things. She would make sure that everyone was granted what they wanted and no one was left hungry. Unlike Marx she would win the right way. Unlike Marx, Luxor would win the democratic way.

Well, folks! In honour of throwback thursday (and also, if you're on cat twitter, Fursday . . .)
This novel-length thing I wrote back in 2010, about two angels who decide to save the world with politics.
It shows I've been a political nerd for years, literally. But, I think it's the first thing I've written you can count as 'good'

Marxie is one of my all-time favourite characters, and Luxor is annoying, basically.
The setting is 2012, call it an alternate 2012 basically. It's written in English, with some Czech here and there
This might just be a TBT thing, I think my writing in general is so much better than this XD
© 2015 - 2024 LeighAldridge
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kalsagnia's avatar
I'm not going to lie, politics bore me so much xD But I really enjoyed this! You had me hooked right from the start, with Marx killing the president. Luxor doesn't seem too annoying yet, just very optimistic. I guess she becomes more annoying later on? Either way, I'm looking forward to the next part!