Hidden Angel

Greg inhaled the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee as he strode into the office, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. The familiar scent mingled with the crisp morning air that drifted through the open windows. He settled into his chair, surveying his organized desk, the soft light filtering through the blinds illuminating a small, framed picture of Jesus.

“Morning, Greg!” Lisa’s cheerful voice rang out from the neighboring cubicle. She leaned over the partition, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “I swear, you’re always in such a good mood. What’s your secret?”

Greg flashed her a warm grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No secret, Lisa. Just trying to focus on the good in each day, you know?”

Lisa laughed, shaking her head. “Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Keep spreading that sunshine, mister.” She winked playfully before disappearing back into her cubicle.

As Greg immersed himself in his work, his fingers dancing across the keyboard with practiced ease, he couldn’t help but overhear the whispers from across the room.

“I don’t know how he does it,” a voice tinged with envy remarked. “Greg’s always at the top of his game, no matter what.”

“Right?” another said. “And have you seen the way he handles the big wigs? They practically eat out of his hand. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s running the whole show before long.”

Greg shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. He returned his focus to his computer screen, trying to ignore the nagging sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach. Deep down, he had always felt different, as if there was something more to his existence than the daily grind of office life.

Lately, his dreams had been plagued by bizarre, unsettling visions – fragmented images of celestial realms, searing pain, and a malevolent force tearing at his very essence. He would wake up gasping for air, his skin slick with cold sweat, grasping at the fading tendrils of memories beyond his reach.

The hours ticked by, and the distant chatter of his coworkers faded into the background as Greg lost himself in his tasks. But as the sun began to set, painting the sky in vivid orange and pink hues, an eerie hush fell over the office.

Greg looked up from his computer, a prickle of unease dancing along his spine. The air seemed to thicken, the once comfortable room now stifling and oppressive. He glanced around, noting the uneasy expressions on his colleagues’ faces.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows of the corner office, his footsteps deliberate and heavy. The man was clad in a suit of the deepest black, the fabric seeming to absorb the surrounding light. His eyes, cold and flinty, scanned the room with a predatory intensity that sent shivers down Greg’s spine.

As the man drew closer, Greg felt his heart race, a primal terror seizing his limbs. Something unnervingly familiar about this stranger tugged at the edges of his consciousness like a half-forgotten nightmare.

The man stopped in the center of the room, his gaze sweeping over the assembled employees. Who murmured, wondering who he was. When he spoke, his voice was a guttural rasp that echoed through the silent office, carrying the faint scent of brimstone. “Attention, everyone. I have an unfortunate announcement to make.”

The room erupted in shocked gasps and whispers as the man continued. “Because of unforeseen circumstances, we will be forced to let some of you go, effective immediately.”

Greg felt his stomach drop as the man’s piercing gaze locked onto him. “Greg Johnson,” he said, each word dripping with malice. “Your services are no longer needed. You must pack up your belongings and leave at once.”

Margaret, Greg’s kind-hearted supervisor, leaped to her feet, her face flushed with indignation. “Now, hold on just a minute!” she exclaimed. “Greg is our top performer. You can’t just fire him without cause! And who are you, anyway?”

The man rounded on Margaret, his eyes flashing with barely contained rage. “I am the CEO of the company. I can, and I have,” he snarled, his voice taking on an otherworldly echo. “This decision is final. Greg Johnson is to vacate the premises immediately, or I will have security remove him by force.”

Greg rose from his chair on shaking legs, his mind reeling. This could not be happening. He was the model employee, the one everyone looked up to. How could he be fired just like that?

As he gathered his few personal items, snippets of memories flashed through his mind with dizzying speed. Celestial beings locked in an eternal battle. The searing agony of a demonic curse tearing through his essence. The sensation of falling, plummeting to Earth as his wings shattered into a million glittering shards.

Greg stumbled towards the exit, barely registering the stunned expressions on his colleagues’ faces. The room seemed to spin around him, the walls closing in as the weight of his newfound knowledge threatened to crush him.

He burst through the heavy glass doors, gulping in the cool night air. His heart pounded in his ears as he tried to make sense of the chaos swirling in his mind. The man’s laughter echoed in his ears, taunting him with the gravity of his loss.

Greg made his way home in a daze, his thoughts consumed by the revelations that had shaken the very foundations of his existence. As he lay in bed that night, he closed his eyes and prayed, seeking guidance and strength from the Divine presence he had always felt.

Sleep came fitfully, and Greg’s dreams became more vivid than ever. He saw himself soaring through the heavens with wings of purest light, basking in the radiant love of the Divine. He felt the cool touch of marble beneath his bare feet and heard the harmonious chorus of a thousand celestial voices raised in joyous song.

And then, the nightmare began anew. The demon’s claws raked across his essence, tearing away all that he was and ever had been. The acrid stench of brimstone filled his nostrils as he plummeted to Earth, his screams swallowed by the howling winds.

Greg jolted awake, his heart racing and his skin damp with sweat. But amidst the lingering terror, a glimmer of hope blossomed in his chest. He remembered now, with crystalline clarity, the truth of his existence. And with that knowledge came a renewed sense of purpose.

Greg rose from his bed, his movements fluid and graceful, imbued with a power he had long forgotten. As he dressed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror – and for a moment, he swore he could see the faint outline of wings shimmering behind his shoulders like a heat haze.

Greg knew what he had to do. He had to confront the demon, to reclaim his divine birthright and protect the souls of humanity from the forces of darkness. With a whispered prayer for strength, he set out into the early morning light.

The streets began to stir as Greg made his way to the office; his footsteps echoed off the concrete with a newfound surety. The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of impending rain and the promise of a new dawn.

He reached the towering office building, its windows reflecting the morning sun. Greg hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the handle. He could feel the demon’s presence, a miasma of malice and envy that permeated the walls, prickling at his skin like a thousand needles.

With a deep breath, Greg pushed open the doors, striding into the shadowed lobby. His footsteps echoed in the eerie stillness as he made his way towards the elevators, his heart pounding in his chest. The doors opened with a ding, and he made his way to the sixth floor.

The receptionist, unnerved by his sudden appearance, called for security, but Greg paid them no heed. He strode forward, eyes fixed on the demon masquerading in human form. He approached the corner office and opened the door, revealing the demon lounging behind the desk. It looked up as Greg entered, a smirk playing across its stolen features.

“Well, well,” it purred, its voice a discordant symphony of grinding metal and shattering glass. “The fallen angel returns. Come to beg for your old job back?”

Greg stepped forward, his eyes blazing. “I’ve come to reclaim what’s mine,” he said, his voice ringing with a power that shook the very foundations of the building. “Your days of meddling in the affairs of mortals are over, demon.”

The creature threw back its head and laughed, a sound like the screams of the damned. “You have no power here, little angel,” it sneered, rising to its feet. “I stripped you of your grace, remember? You’re nothing more than a pathetic human now, clinging to the scraps of a life you never truly earned.”

But Greg only smiled. A beatific expression illuminated the room with a soft, pulsing glow. “You may have stolen my grace, but my soul remains untouched. And now, I remember my true purpose.”

He raised his hand, and a shimmering blade of purest light coalesced in his grasp, its radiance casting the demon’s twisted features into sharp relief. The creature’s eyes widened, a flicker of fear passing across its face before twisting into a snarl of rage.

“You dare?” it roared, lunging forward with preternatural speed, its claws outstretched.

The battle was fierce and devastating, a whirlwind of light and shadow that tore through the office like a hurricane. Greg moved with a fluid grace, his blade singing through the air as he parried the demon’s furious attacks. The air crackled with energy, the scent of ozone mingling with the stench of brimstone.

But the creature was strong, fueled by an eternity of hatred and envy. Its claws tore at Greg’s flesh, drawing rivulets of crimson that splattered across the pristine walls. Pain seared through his body, white-hot and blinding, but Greg gritted his teeth and fought on, his divine light pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

In the end, it was over as quickly as it had begun. With a final, devastating blow, Greg sent the demon crashing to the floor, its form shimmering and dissolving like smoke in the wind. A piercing shriek rent the air, a sound of fury and despair that seemed to echo from the depths of Hell itself.

Greg stood amid the wreckage, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The divine blade flickered and faded, leaving him alone in the deafening silence. He surveyed the destruction, a grim reminder of the battle he had barely survived, and the greater war that lay ahead.

Slowly, he turned, his gaze falling upon the receptionist’s huddled form. Her eyes were wide with shock and wonder. “What… what are you?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Greg smiled, a gentle, radiant expression that filled the room with warmth and light. “I am a servant of the Divine,” he said softly, reaching out to help her to her feet. “Sent to protect and guide the souls of humanity.”

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch soothing away the lingering fear and confusion. “Rest now,” he murmured. “When you wake, you’ll remember only that justice has been served, and that the light will always triumph over the darkness.”

The receptionist’s eyes fluttered closed, her body going limp as she slumped into her chair. Greg watched her for a moment, a flicker of concern crossing his face. He knew that his actions would have consequences, rippling out into the lives of those around him.

He knew that this battle was only the beginning. The forces of evil were relentless, always seeking new ways to corrupt and destroy. But he also knew that he was not alone in this fight. His faith, his unwavering belief in the power of the Divine, would guide him through whatever trials lay ahead.