I am called Shade. I am an Angel. Well, sort of. I used to be the Angel of Retribution. I was the guy God called on to destroy all those people that had forsaken Him. You know, that whole rain-of-hellfire-and-brimstone-type of stuff? That was me. I just took out my cool flaming black sword and struck down all those who opposed me; I mean God. That golden calf fiasco? Sodom and Gommorah? Both me. And I was gonna have a part in the end-of-the-world massacre, but I got gypped. I mess up ONCE and I'm screwed. God has this talk with me and says I'm getting too into this death and destruction gig and tells me to take a break. He says I'm getting to like killing! ME! And He's the one who told me to kill those humans! So I just said God should be a little more lenient and let me work (though in a bit more "colorful" language). Next thing I know, I'm in Hell. IN HELL! God kicks me out just because I told him to back off! I thought He was supposed to be forgiving! But nooooooo, that's only to His prized humans! He creates Angels first and gives them the power to fly, the strength to lift two buses with one arm, and the ability to heal all wounds just by looking at the sunrise. He creates humans second, and all he gives them is free will. But of course, that outweighs anything He ever gave us. If an Angel steps out of line once, he's gone. Lucifer? All he did was kill one innocent human, and now he is called the most evil deity ever. I heard that one Angel went to Hell all because he shoplifted a pack of gum! Anyway, I spent 200 years in Hell. 200 years I wish I could forget. No Demon came close to me, I made sure of that, because God (for some reason) let me keep my sword. Vicious creatures. They have beast faces, can match an Angel in strength, and, instead of healing painlessly with the sunrise like Angels, they heal at sunset and feel every muscle string and tendon heal with excrutiating pain. Fortunately, they can't touch metal, even through leather, so they can't carry real swords. Instead of swords of metal they carry swords made of tongues of fire, which are very powerful. They inhabit Hell, where they torture humans mercilessly. I know, I saw it all. No Demon even touched me, but I all I saw in Hell was pain and suffering, suffering and pain. I had to get out. I would trade my wings to end the horror. Then I found a way. It was the worst thing I could do. It would cut me off from God indefinitely, but it would get me out of Hell if I stayed on my feet. The catch: I would have to become that which I hate. I would have to become...
A DEMON.