She was blindfolded and held in a great fist as she heard the echoing 'Boom' of a giant door slamming. While walking to her car from the shopping center, she had suddenly shrunk to about six inches in height. And was shortly after grabbed and blindfolded.
Now the blindfold was removed, and she found herself looking up into the black-hooded face of a complete stranger. His eyes--gray orbs that looked like they belonged to a man in his thirties--stared coolly down at her from behind the slits in his hood. He carried her across a darkened garage or shed or outbuilding, to a pair of wooden chairs placed across from each other.
She looked down from his closed fist to see a candle burning beside a wooden crate full of captives who had been miniaturized like her. The other captives were not women. They shone in the dark. They were winged.
The hooded stranger set her on the huge (to her) seat of one of chairs and sat across from her, the wooden crate of angelic captives between them.
"What are you going to do with me?" she called, willing her fear to subside.
"It is not what I'm going to do with you. It is what I am going to do with these." Ungloving a hand, he motioned it at the crate full of tiny angelic captives. How many had he taken? How on earth had he captured a band of ANGELS? She thought it could not be done. But--here he was picking up a tiny angel in his huge hand, grabbed a shining, white wing. And--and yanked it off completely! The wing was NOT a fake. Blood poured from the shoulderblade where it had been wrenched out. The tiny angel screamed and screamed as he yanked off the other wing as well. Like a sadist pulling wings off of flies.
"How could you--!" she screamed.
"You are used to regarding the persons of angels as sacred," her captor informed her. "So is our Creator. But I mean to teach Him otherwise. You recall the Forbidden Fruit Test of Genesis, don't you?" At her vigorous nod, he continued, "From all the angels who came down to marry human women, quite without their Maker's permission, and all the demons who have been beating us up since the Flood, think the angels ever got a character test of their own?"
She could not think of an answer. HAD the angels----?
"That's right," her captor's hood agitated back and forth in a nod as he continued angrily-- "God discriminated against human beings when He threatened his first two with, "You will die..."! Think He ever did that to His precious angels? Oh, no. For Jesus Christ, He says, "This is my son, the beloved, I approve of him.'" he said in a sweet, loving, nevertheless mocking tone, "By contrast, Adam and Eve, before they even did anything wrong, get ," and here his tone suddenly turned harsh and scolding as he shook a stern finger at the captive who cringed in his hand. "'Don't you eat from it for in the day you eat from it you will positively die!'" The walls echoed. "Imagine God saying such a thing to Jesus Christ, who had the bloody good fortune to start HIS life in a spirit body, and you'll appreciate how cold and harsh He was to his first humans! And it's about time His angels got a taste of it, too!"
"How--how about me? What do--do---" she shivered in horror as he placed his torn and bleeding captive in the box and went for another.
"You have nothing to fear from me," he continued, calming down. "You see, I am a homosexual. I'm not interested in women. I'd rather BE a woman." He slowly and painfully pulled the pretty wings from the bloody shoulderblades of another screaming angelic captive. "You recall that the excuse God used to torture-kill the rest of us ugly little humans was a little thing He called 'inherited sin.' Well," the evildoer's voice turned snarly and harsh as he crushed the angel in his shaking fist as hard as he could, "THAT little divine abuse excuse discriminated against humans as well! Angels were individually-created so they don't have to WORRY about suffering for the sins of an errant ancestor! THEY have never had to worry about suffering for the sins of another--EVER! And it should have been the same way for US!" Putting the hurt and screaming angel down and picking up another, he wrenched this angel's limbs completely out of their sockets, and ripped off his shining head, so nothing but a torso was left.
"You can't stand this?" he inquired as, horrified and sick to her stomach, she turned away. "I can assure you, this kind of suffering doesn't bother the Creator in the least-- when it happens to humans." He stuck the bloody armless, legless torso beneath his black hood and she could hear the distinct crunch of tiny angel bones. "To God Almighty, we're nothing but cheap, plastic action figures. Hurtable. Killable. Disposable. Easy to resurrect."
"That's not true!" she rasped as he got another one.
"Is it? Look how He killed people like me in Sodom, while permissively letting His own sons the demons get away with much worse lo, these 6000 years. Oh, yes. Even demons are ever much more sacred to Him than we are. And why?" He held up the struggling angel so she could see him easily. The angel was tall, slim, blond, ethereally handsome. She had to admit that he was much prettier than she was. "Because angels are ever so much more beautiful than we are, that's why," he chimed in with her thoughts. "Society's philosophy that the ugly don't deserve to be loved? It was coming from Him. Our God is a filthy lookist. That's the real reason He's pampered even the most vile angels and bashed us. As if their gorgeous little bods were more sacred than ours. But no more!" Taking the angel between both fists, he twisted then tore the lovely creature in half. Then carelessly threw it aside like a dirty, used tissue.
For that matter, she wondered, why wasn't God rescuing THESE helpless children of His?
"If God had left well enough alone, and continued with the long, slow process of creating angels one by one, the question of homosexuality would have never come up. Angels are sexless, you know. Nothing between their legs." He examined another terrified captive. His voice held a smile. "So let's make something. Would you like to see an angel menstruate?" Pulling the angel's glittering robe up over his head so his bare, featureless crotch was fully exposed, the stranger took his knife and jabbed it up to the hilt between the angel's legs, and pulled it out. The miniature angel screamed and screamed as he inserted a finger into the bloody, newly-made genitalia.
"Oh, that's horrible! Stop it! Please stop it!" What had this stranger taken her for--why was he DOING this--to show her what a sacreligious monster he was?
"Do you think, if you were being raped, God would come and rescue you?" inquired the stranger mockingly. "Has He come to rescue you from me? Think about it. God creates creatures who think like men for thousands of years. Thousands upon thousands of sons that He treats well and thinks highly of. Then He creates his first daughter and WHAMMO! Kicks HER out of His family on a flimsy excuse, and uses and abuses her while slowly torture-killing her with old age. And allows the use and abuse of all women who come after her. You know where fairy tales fit into the scheme of things, my little friend? God is the evil queen of 'Snow White,' the wicked stepmother of 'Cinderella,' the bad fairy of 'Sleeping Beauty.' Down through the ages He has allowed the use and abuse of women, treated the use and abuse of women lightly--because He is jealous of them. Jealous, jealous, jealous!"
"The--the Creator of the Universe? Why, that's ridiculous! That's sick! He can't be jealous of us. There's no reason for God Himself to be jealous! He can do so much more than we can! Please stop that," she begged as the stranger continued violating the screaming angel in his hand.
"Then why did He abuse His daughter the instant He made her? Eve must have been able to do something that He could not. Haven't you noticed that many women are much nicer and more idealistic than the wrathful God of the Old Testament? I'll bet you are, too. That's one reason I'd like to be one," He continued violating the screaming, helpless angel in his hand with cool aplomb. "He is used to being the biggest and best in everything. At least He was until He created His daughter, Eve, who could, in one or two ways, be better than HIM. Then He experienced something He had never felt before--jealousy! Envy! Perhaps He loved Eve, but he envied and hated her, too. He bashed her and all her children out of envy, spite and malice, not love. Love does not harm its neighbor, but envy destroys what it loves." He gazed fondly down at the screaming angel in his palm. "I love angels." He took the angel by both legs and ripped him up the middle.
The stranger picked up yet another terrified victim who squirmed between his fingers. "You're so sacred to God Almighty," the stranger mocked at the angel. Then violently he threw down the angel like a filthy bit of vermin. It lay quiet and still on the concrete floor like a dead baby bird.
His malevolent purpose was clear. The stranger meant to kill every single one of his captive angels and make HER watch him do it. He was down to three. How she would have loved to speak to them--find out what heaven was like but---
One by one, coldly, without compassion or mercy, he tortured those three tiny, screaming angels until they were tiny, dead, beautiful, mutilated corpses.
"And what about you?" he said as he gazed down at her. "Why, I am going to let you go. Just like the Creator killed Eve the human but did not kill Satan the angel. I'm going to do the opposite. Just to show our Creator I can be just as prejudiced and bigoted as He is."
"He's NOT going to let you get away with this!" she said as she looked down in horror at the heap of dead, torn and bloodied angels at his feet.
"No," her kidnapper agreed as he put his hand around her gently and lifted her up. "But until He catches up with me and makes me pay for what I'm doing to His kids, I'm going to have fun showing Him how it feels to have His own people hurt and abused and killed and treated like garbage. Why not? They're easy to resurrect! Just like us!" Laughing wildly, he contemptuously kicked the heap of dead angels with his toe. Then he stomped on them. Then he kicked them again. Until there was nothing left of the creatures but a clotted, bloody, befeathered mess. He called in a cat, which began feasting on the feathered remains.
Blindfolding her, her kidnapper then did the opposite of what he had done to capture her, until finally she felt herself put down on a hard surface. It felt like asphalt. "Do not move until you've counted to 500, or I'll steal you away again," he warned.
She shakily whispered, "31, 32, 33, 34" as she heard a car drive away. On the count of 500, she ripped off the blindfold to find herself normal-sized and standing in the same parking lot from which the mysterious stranger had stolen her. Agitated, she ran to her car, fumbled with the lock and got in. Feeling relieved and more secure to be surrounded by two tons of metal, she drove straightaway to the police and described what had happened. But only the parts they would believe. She left out shrinking and angels.
She resumed her life as best she could, but that dreadful night remained etched in her memory. Was it a dream? She hoped it was a dream. If it was a dream it was a terrible dream indeed. Though the stranger had not physically harmed her, it would be ages before she felt like herself again.