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Not Like An Angel
Paul Lang
721 14th Ave
Prospect Park, PA
Aprox 1300 Words
Not Like An Angel
I will surely not let you go until you bless me.
The native carrion bird sang its shrieking song.
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I looked into the dragon-red plate and tried to find a
pair of eyes I could meet. There were no eyes. The red
steel was cut carefully, welded over by a master smith or a
highly advanced mechanism; it had to be with the kind of
craftsmanship it was displaying. It looked like a big
antique. Just one of these things could probably sell for
hundreds of thousands down on Earth. Thick, black curves
like outlines rode along each of the shape's edges. A
yellow design, a sun with six rays culminated in the center
just below where the visor was open. It was like some kind
of medieval football helmet. There was no face for me to
look at, but something was looking at me.
Don't stare at them. They consider it to be
impolite, Old Dr. Fields explained from behind me.
The red plate creaked and then twisted to the left as
though to look away from me.
They have eyes. We just can't see them.
Well...sorry, was all I could say, and I tried to
look somewhere else. My eyes left the Gurhan knight in
front of me and jumped to the one at my left hand. They
were all around me-- how was I supposed to keep from
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looking at them? Why was Ibeing polite to them? I was the
one who'd just crawled out of a blazing wreck.
You don't want to offend them before you've even had
a chance to talk. Just stick close and listen to me. I've
learned worlds about them in the past three months...well,
Earth months, years for them. Technically I've been their
prisoner, but I have been treated well.
Oh, okay. I took a step backwards and tried to look
at Mr. Fields instead of any one of the five colorful
metallic Gurhan aliens that stood around me Wait--why were
you a prisoner?
I was living with the Tarquillo before, their
enemies.
Enemies?
I think we have a lot to catch up on.
Will these...people mind?
No, they are very patient. Fields chuckled. Very
patient indeed. Now...where shall I begin...you see, the
Tarquillo-
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Beautiful, really beautiful. I heard the ding of
clanging metal followed by the din of Dr. Hansen's voice. I
turned my head and saw her stumbling down the hall behind
us, half tripping over an amber plated knight that was
standing sentry in the corner. Are you seeing this Warren?
Are you seeing this? Walking armor, walking weapons! I've
never seen anything like it! It's beautiful! She stumbled
over the butt of a spear handle and just barely caught her
balance again. Her eyes lit up brightly as they followed
the butt to the point. It comes with a javelin! This is
better than that military history museum in California!
The aqua colored Gurhan that stood at my back put its
gauntlet to its sword handle and marched toward my dazzled
assistant. Her face blushed with an almost romantic love
when the monster drew the polished silver, double bladed
scimitar with the black cloth handle and the slick, curved
edge. I think the warrior had hoped to ward her off, but
this display of shiny metal only wet her appetite for more.
Warren! Do you see this sword? Warren! What kind of metal
is this? Is it the same thing the armor's made of? It's
beautiful! Really beautiful!
I turned my eyes away and prayed a halfhearted prayer
that she wouldn't get herself killed. Lovely, dark haired
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assistants with a religious obsession were hard to come by.
I had to block her out now. She could go on like this for
over an hour.
Um...what were you saying Mr. Fields?
Oh, yes. As you've no doubt learned by now you've
landed in Netz, a territory under the rule of the spear
totting Gurhan race.
The floor we were standing on was soft like a
mattress; that seemed uncharacteristic.
The Gurhan are the smaller of the two reigning powers
on Fezzilh, the greater are the Tarquillo.
The walls looked like they were carved from some kind
of apricot colored stone. No, it looked more like
styrophoam.
As far as I can tell, the Gurhan and the Tarquillo
have been at war for at least fifty years--fifty earth
years I mean. I learned about it when I was under the guard
of the Tarquillo Magoat Scholars in Alpaj.
Could you cut down on the extras please? I cut in,
I'm a weapons dealer, not a linguist.
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My apologies.
A sound like the beat of a drum came from the next
hall and our group started to move. So the Gurhan weren't
all that patient after all. I had to make sure to get all
of the necessary info I could out of Fields before I met
their king, which I could tell might be hard. The old coot
seemed to love showing off what he'd learned in
kindergarten. Otherwise I could end up at the wrong end of
one of those 'beautiful' spears. It happened to unescorted
dealers like me all of the time: they'd run into some set
of aliens that wanted to bash each other's brains out and
have their goods stolen. Sometimes the dealers made it back
to tell the tale; most times they didn't. This was why I'd
wanted N.A.P.A.L.M to hire more guards. The two or three
mounted cannons they had super-glued to the side of my ship
weren't much use now that I was stranded in a pre-historic
dump.
Looks like you might have to go and speed it up. I
urged in a less than urgent voice.
Yes, yes. As far as I can decipher, the Gurhan served
the Tarquillo for many years.
Served? I feigned interest.
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I may be mistaken, but it's possible that the
Tarquillo createdthe Gurhan...like...machines with wills
of their own.
That's always a good idea.
Our little chain gang procession marched through a
room full of artsy furniture I could only assume was used
for torture. I sighed in relief when we didn't stop.
Eventually, some violation of the Nar-O caused a
group of frustrated Gurhan to break off and burn the city
of Gabbia. This forced the Tarquillo to crack the whip even
harder than before, and the Gurhan in response, under the
command of General Moatose Green-Hammer, sacked and
pillaged the three farming villages of Pecoran, Pollo and
Cahpra...and-
Nar-O?
I think it's some kind of set of rules, a kind of
honor code. I cannot stress to you how important it is to
the Gurhan; it's almost like a religion.
Okay, so we're dealing with crazy zealots made of
metal.
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Don't be so narrow minded. The Gurhan, like the
Tarquillo have a beautiful culture, though the Gurhan are
much more...rough around the edges.
How so?
You'll have to remember, they were created to be
warriors. They are combative, practical and hard. The
Tarquillo on the other hand have spent most of their
existence feeding off of the peaceful life afforded to them
by this servitude and the servitude of other smaller races.
They are soft, learned and somewhat...feminine. The kingdom
of the Tarquillo is a kingdom of wisdom and scholarly
learning, while the rule of the Gurhan is harsh and
militaristic.
I gazed over at a particularly scary looking steel
beast with an iron morningstar If that's the case then why
haven't the metal guys won yet?
Now now, the Tarquillo are not to be underestimated
either. Not only do they have greater territory and more
numerous allies, but they fight with a strange kind of
martial arts, something called Fi-Uccello. It's a very
advanced form of warfare that involves moving air
particles...that's what I've come to understand anyway.
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Our procession stopped when we came to a ten foot
tall, arch shaped door that looked like it was either made
of bronze or some other alloy that had been rusted over.
The toy soldiers halted.
Alright, this is the main hall. Fields was now in a
rush. He ran his left hand through the end of his white
beard Remember to be respectful. I'm afraid you're going
to have to bend over backwards.
Yeah, I was kinda guessing that by now.
No, I mean literally. The proper greeting from a
visitor to the 'High-Footman' involves the visitor sitting
on his knees and bending backwards...its easier for them
than it is for us.
Hey, I'm not a contortionist. How exactly does that
make sense? They make the visitors from another world do
something that's easy for them but hard for everyone else?
Wait-
But you still must try.... Miss Hansen. Can I count
on you?
Huh? Dr. Hansen raised herself up from her position
on the dusty ground where she had been flicking the amber
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knight's metal foot and listening to the plinging sound it
made Oh, yeah.
Just let me do the talking, got it? I ordered her.
You're the boss, she saluted me, and the bronze
double door slowly creaked open (As far as I could tell it
opened on its own, without any help).
Fields stepped out in front of me. A slightly ominous
look entered his face And one more thing. I think it would
be wise for you two to remember that right now, you aren't
just representatives of N.A.P.A.L.M, but the fragile
carriers of your own lives.
The old man's menacing words shook me up, and they
shook up Dr. Hansen too, so much so that when we were
finally introduced to the 'High-Footman' we were so
terrified that we forgot.
The Footman was a black and silver Gurhan that stood a
full half size taller than all of the others. He had a red
tassel on his head and a red carpet of a cape on his back.
To imagine the effect this colossus had on our weak human
minds try imagining that the statue of liberty suddenly
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tore itself loose from its platform and started dancing the
Can-Can.
The whole chamber of knights waited for what seemed
like hours, probably in hopes that we would eventually
succumb to their ridiculous tradition, but we weren't that
smart. Finally, they gave up and the High-Footman gave us
the ending half of the honorable greeting by spinning his
helmet-head 360 degrees in a circle (I hoped that that was
what it meant, and that it wasn't just something he did out
of frustration).
After all that was done, he sat down on his hard knees
and beckoned for us to do the same. This tradition I
followed, since by now my legs had already all but turned
to jelly. The knight disconnected his megaton-heavy shield
from his left arm and placed it upside down on the stone
floor. Next he began to pound on the shield with his fist.
The sound it made was the worst sound I'd ever heard.
The honorable High-Footman Norgal would like to
welcome you Earth people to his Fiefdom. Fields said,
taking his place next to the King and in front of a small
metal shield of his own He hopes that you and he can be
friends.
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I didn't answer, but just kept staring over into the
nonexistent face of the gigantic, animated piece of
hardware.
He wishes to express his deepest sympathies for your
current condition. Fields translated the ringing sounds of
the gauntlets and the shield He says that what the
Tarquillo did to your ship is unforgivable, a blasphemous
breach of Nar-O.
The Tarquillo? I muttered to myself.
Tarquillo. Dr. Hansen parroted me.
The Footman gnashed his steel kneecap against the
stone and made me jump. His blood-red cape jumped up behind
him like a red tidal-wave.
The High-Footman is willing to offer you
protection...
Dr. Hansen sighed deeply behind me.
...but in return he wants your help.
I bit my tongue. I thought this might be coming.
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My help? Suddenly I felt my fear and uncertainty
drift away like it always did when my trade was involved.
That Norgal thing paused for a second, then pounded
out a long message. Fields waited until it was complete
before transcribing any of it That the Tarquillo shot down
your ship with their Fire-Bird was indeed a shame. The
High-Footman would never wish that upon you or anyone for
any price. But...
I clenched my fist.
...he also says that the way you fell was not as a
victim, but as a savior. You are like gods, angels. You
alone can save the Gurhan from their honor-less oppressors.
No doubt the Tarquillo shot at you with purpose in their
hearts. The military technology of your Earth is far
greater than even the weapons they possess. Without a
doubt, they were aiming to steal these weapons and use them
to end the war. Your seventy two Scorpions Cannons and your
thirty eight Nautilus Cannons were meant to land in
Govaask, next to the Tarquillo city of Tulipanoe, but
fortune dropped you with their enemies.
How does he know our stock so well? I glared at
Fields and the massive black knight in turn.
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Fields relayed the message via shield-drum and the
Footman responded,Your weapons have been put under the
guard of our captains. They are being kept safe from the
Traquillo. This particular territory is highly subject to
raids.
So you're already taking them? Shouldn't you kill me
before you start pillaging? For all I know it could've been
you guys who shot us down, couldn't it?
Dr. Hansen squealed behind me.
Fields hesitated, then carried my words to the black
knight.
Please forgive me if I am misunderstood. Norgal
turned his head down We have not seized them, but we had
thought you may not be ready to protect. Attempt to
understand me. I ask for your help as a fellow enemy, but
not only as a fellow enemy, as a fellow living thing. What
the Tarquillo have done to my people is disgraceful and
barbaric, and what they have done to you is also
disgraceful and barbaric. In that sense I thought we might
find unity. The enemy opposes all peace treaties, all
concessions, and acts in ways un-befitting living beings.
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They have treated us as weeds are treated, not even as
beasts.
And I'm sure you were all Mother Teresa's messengers,
right? I'm sure you haven't killed any of them, not even
when you started the war yourselves. Tell me, did you guys
cry big chrome tears when you burned Gabbia? Did you rust
yourselves when you chopped up Pecoran? Did you show your
kind and gentle side to the men, women and children of
Cahpra? Last time I checked, 'sack' means something along
the lines of indiscriminant civilian slaughter, but maybe
it means something different in killer robot language.
Fields looked surprised by the terms I remembered.
Once again, when it involved my line of work I was good
with details.
Now you really want me to step in, into a war over
some outdated code of chivalry and let you kill people with
my guns, guns that have an owner who hasn't received them
yet? I think that if you guys are going to fight each other
over something stupid you can keep fighting with slingshots
and clubs, maybe then it'll take you a little longer to
pulverize each other off the face of the planet; maybe
it'll even take so long that you'll realize it isn't worth
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fighting over. Anyway, I'll be keeping my toys, and I won't
be letting you borrow them for a tribal war over which side
of the toast the butter goes on.
Once again Norgal was slow to answer, and I couldn't
blame him Perhaps we should speak again, later, he said
and stood to his feet. You are free to wander the village
outside and sight-see. You and your ship are under the
protection of my soldiers.
Well don't I feel safe? I murmured under my breath.
The Footman spun his head around, and this time, in
response I bowed forward in the normal human way. When I
did it I heard a lot of rattling metal, so I guessed I had
sufficiently offended them.
The village outside the barracks was barely even what
I would could a village. It was more of an outpost. There
were about a score of hut like domes laid out in and
orderly fashion, maybe that qualified as a village. The rim
of the town was lined by five foot tall, jagged metal
pikes. Soldier marched (All of them looked like soldiers,
every last one) back and forth between the domes and into
claustrophobic trenches. In the center there was a hollow
stone structure that looked like an altar or a well. There
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was a translucent, purple vine growing out and clinging to
its edges.
Its warm here, like summer, Dr. Hansen notified me
once we were out by the well It must be uncomfortable
being a Gurhan. That armor has to heat up.
For all we know this could be their winter. These
guys and their planet don't make a lick of sense. I
watched as a full-metal merchant traded what appeared to be
three pieces of straw for a yellow watermelon with spider
legs. Three shorter aliens (I guessed they were children)
ran in circles around a three eyed insect beast of burden.
A faceless, rusted old man sat on a stool in front of his
dome shaped dwelling and stared at a tray of what I could
only assume was food.
How do these things even eat? I looked up at the
green tinted sky and into the two moons. The two were close
to meeting now. I guessed they had two opposite moons that
passed by each other at least once in the lunar cycle. It
was actually fairly common in this part of the galaxy. It
was obviously night, but it felt like the hottest morning.
Seriously Cynthia, what kind of monsters are these?
These things are inhuman, nothing like us. How can we
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possibly hope to understand who could be right and who
could be wrong? I asked rhetorically.
Don't know... Dr. Hansen was always good for
stimulating conversation.
Why do big world events always hinge on little people
with little minds? Do these things really think that we're
going to join in and help with their stupid war? Do these
Spartan morons think we care how many dumb Athenians they
kill? I don't think I'm a saint or anything like that, but
I'm not devil enough to give a bully a popgun either,
right?
Behind me, she didn't answer. She probably wasn't even
listening.
These warmongering tin-men think they can get the
best of me by stroking my ego, calling me an angel. Well
their flattery tactics are a bit outdated. I'm already more
powerful than an angel, I'm a CEO, right? I joked, but she
didn't laugh. What was with her today? Knowing her she was
probably off asking one of them if she could take its kid
home with her to study in the laboratory or something like
that. This place was better than a toy store to Dr. Hansen.
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The sooner we can get out of here, the better. I'm
not going to dirty my hands with any of this, and that's
final.
I turned around to look her in the eye, but she wasn't
there. Instead, there were five or six knight suits
standing and pointing toward the blue hill over at the edge
of town Hey...what are you guys...? suddenly I got the
message. Without hesitation I ran off after her. If she got
herself lost on this dump of a planet it would only be
trouble for me and the company. I had to find her now
before this became an incident, and she was a friend of
mine too. I climbed over the blue hill and waded through
its tall, cotton-soft grass. The earth was spongy and sunk
in under my heavy footsteps. White dust, probably some kind
of spore from some plant blew up into my eyes and I had to
stumble blindly for a half of a minute. I kept heading
forward until I found a familiar piece of equipment: Dr.
Hansen's cell phone. What had happened to her?
I heard a female scream in the distance. It had to be
her. She was the only human female here (unless Fields
screamed like that, which was a possibility that I wasn't
ready to rule out yet).
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I ran now as fast as my legs could carry me. I reached
into the bag on my back and drew out the storage cube that
held my secret self defense tool. I squeezed the cube and
my Goliath-355 handgun emerged, fully loaded and ready to
fire. Whatever it was that took Dr. Hansen was going to
taste the vengeance of N.A.P.A.L.M, and hell hath no fury
like a weapons dealer scorned.
I slid down another of this planets many lumps and
landed in what seemed to be a small valley. Suddenly I
found myself surrounded. About a dozen strange creatures
popped up like Jack out of his box on the hills around me.
Clever devils. Each of them was about the size and shape of
a small human. It was hard to get a clear picture of them,
because they had what seemed to be some kind of blue gas
zooming around them in fast currents, so to my vision they
were just blue gas monsters, like the ones on Leelip Three.
Each one also hovered about three inches off the ground.
The Tarquillo, I guessed. I turned my head and saw
Dr. Hansen sitting in a relaxed looking position between
the two devils farthest from me. What was she doing?
I shouted, Cynthia, run! The blue gas around the two
creatures next to her snapped and crackled.
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I can't move, she said with a look of terror in her
eyes. What were they doing to her? She was myassistant.
Mine!
Without batting an eye I fired my Goliath at the
tallest enemy standing in line with my left shoulder. A
pointed arrow of pure, neon energy zoomed out and gunned
toward the monster.
The creature planted its feet and swung its hands to
the left like an orchestra conductor with a sort of
slapping motion, and the missile's course was redirected.
It fired up and burst harmlessly in the air above the
creatures' heads
Okay, so these things can use 'The Force'.
In no time I was snapped down on my face, pushed over
by what felt like something between a punch to the gut and
a sea storm's wind.
Once I was down I couldn't move. A strong pressure
around me kept me still. Only my head was left free. They
wanted to let me breathe, which meant that they wanted me
alive. This was good news and bad news.
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The blue mist around the tall Tarquillo dissolved and
its true shape was revealed. It was much more like a human
than a Gurhan, but still not something you'd see walking
down the streets of Queens. It was blue, a pale blue, and
it had feathers on its knees, elbows and shoulders. Its
triangular face had three eyes and its head had a pair of
horns sticking neatly out of its sharply trimmed hair. It
had a slender build, and all in all I couldn't tell if it
was male or female.
The blue thing reached down its boney arm and picked
up the Goliath-355 I had dropped. It fixed its three eyes
on it and ran its hand across the gauge. When I saw it hold
the gun I was resolved. It's a female, I muttered. (All
women held big guns in the same, awkward way, like they
were holding a baby; all women except Dr. Hansen, but she
was special).
I bit my tongue. The Tarquillo had what they wanted.
Now, whether I liked it or not it'd be used against the
Gurhan.
Butt-Heads! was the best insult I could come up with
at the moment, but I was ignored.
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The lanky beast descended from its three inch air-
stool and seated itself cross legged on the spongy ground.
It spent the next ten minutes (seconds, hours, I don't
know) studying the gun. Its eyes looked stupid and
barbaric, which I hadn't expected, but as time went on it
began to hold the gun in more of a masculine fashion. The
skeleton began to understand what it was looking at.
Something over the horizon chirped. Mist rose up from
valleys in the lofty hills that sat at the edge of the
horizon. The green sky darkened.
Then I heard a creaking of metal. Was that what I
thought it was? A twig snapped. The Tarquillo kept still.
Did they have ears?
Hinges and joints roared and scraped. A silver point
glinted up through the gaps in a purple shrub's leaves.
The lead Tarquillo twitched.
Two more silver points stabbed their way into vision.
The third got taller. The tip of a red tassel shook like a
hand of hyperactive fingers in the soft breeze.
The Tarquillo shot up to its feet. A long, silver
shaft penetrated its solar plexus. It had noticed too late.
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It had been too slow. It made a whistling sound with its
nose and died.
The other eleven turned and faced the approaching
enemy. Over the edge of the hill I saw a piece of sapphire
colored metal. The light of the two moons glinted off the
armor and before my sight was clear again another two
Tarquillo had fallen.
My heart rose with excitement. The home team had
arrived! We were being rescued. I looked over at Dr. Hansen
and she clapped her hands and cheered.
Two blue knights and two amber knights came up over
the hill and planted their steel feet in the ground. From
behind them came a giant sized knight in black armor. That
Norgal-- he had come himself?
My guts laughed. If the Gurhan were a football team,
then the Tarquillo were nothing but ugly cheerleaders, and
they were dead.
As if in reaction to the intensity of the struggle,
the mist in the mountains sped up its progression and
blanketed the scene for dramatic affect, making the cold,
cruel, Gurhan ghostly and terrible.
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Three of the remaining Tarquillo lined up and put
their hands together in front of their chests. The two
amber knights rushed forward and planted their beautiful
swords in the ground. They came against the enemy's
invisible fire but were unmoved.
Something clanged behind Dr. Hansen and both she and I
turned our heads simultaneously to see what it was. A
second group of knights, two emerald green and two diamond
white dashed up the flank hill and drew their own spears.
Now the Tarquillo were thrown into disorder. They
moved about erratically and fired ineffectual shots left
and right. One of them aimed and fired at Dr. Hansen, but,
suddenly realizing that I was freed from the dark side of
the force I took the hit to my own gut. Something popped
and blood and water mixed in my mouth.
All eight of the Gurhan knights drew their spears and
aimed. The Footman himself revealed a tremendous slab of
metal covered in shining gold. Dr. Hansen looked like she
wanted to marry it.
The Tarquillo shook. The shafts were released. *Slice*
And all of the remaining enemies fell dead. They dropped to
the ground like sacks of feathers.
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The battle was over. No, the slaughter was over.
I chuckled.
Fields came up slowly behind the High-Footman. The
expression on his face when he saw the remains of what had
transpired was one of disgust.
I looked up at the warriors who had rescued us. I
looked down at the bodies of the despicable monsters who
had kidnapped us. I gazed down at the bit of blood I'd shed
to save the one who was precious to me. Then I looked up at
her, the once terrified, now immensely pleased Dr. Cynthia
Hansen.
Praise be to Nar-O. I whispered to myself. Then I
stood up and approached the High-Footman.
I dropped to my knees and leaned as far as I could
backwards (I think I snapped something actually), then I
faced Fields.
Tell this guy that if it's war the Tarquillo want,
that's what we'll give them. I clenched my fist until I
could see the blue veins. I bit my tongue until it bled
rose red blood.
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The native carrion bird watched from its high perch.
Tonight there would be a feast.
And he was hurled to the earth, and his angels with
him. Woe to the earth and sea, woe to the earth and sea,
because he is full of fury.