Hey guys! So, I have to admit; Fantasy is my calling. I'm amazing at fantasy. It's my strong point. So, here is another fantasy story by yours truly. Please forgive me if this first chapter is shit, I typed it up at two in the morning a few days ago, sooo... The next chapter will probably be more coherent :P

Disclaimer: Never have I ever owned Linkin Park.

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I'm getting edgy all the time

There's someone around me just a step behind

It's kinda scary the , the shape I'm in

The walls are shakin'and they' re closing in

Too fast or a bit too slow

I'm paranoid of people and it's starting to show

There' s one guy that I can't shake

Over my shoulder is a big mistake

Sitting on the bed

Or lying wide awake

There's demons in my head

And it's more than I can take

I think I'm on a roll

But I think it's kinda weak

Saying all I know is

I gotta get away from me

I tell you something just ain't right

My head is on loose but my shoes are tight

Avoiding my fiends cause they all bug

Life is like a riddle and I'm really stumped

If you reason, don't you know

Your own preoccupation is where you'll go

I think I'm being followed, I look around

It's only my shadow creepin' on the ground

"Gotta Get Away" by The Offspring

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I have watched him for many days now, studying his every move. I wish to visit him, but my father had forbidden me. I fear that soon I will be forced to disobey him.

His name is Michael, as the angel. But he is not an angel. I have seen it. My father does not know of Michael’s nature. Or, perhaps he does, but has remained silent. I am grateful to my father if that is the case.

I have always been special in my father’s eyes, a precious child to be protected. He has not sent me to Earth for that very reason, stating that my time and purpose will come. What my purpose is has yet to be revealed to me. My father knows, as does my brother in arms, Michael the Archangel. Well, he is, in fact, my true brother, as well.

My name is Chester, most beloved of the Archangels. I am kept under lock and keys by my father. At times I am disappointed by that. However, I am safe here. I have always been watched closely by my father. The first of the Archangels were experimental; my father toying with how he wished for his children and servants to be. Michael was The First. I was The Second. Unlike Michael, I was imperfect.

Angels are creatures of light and well-being, our very foundation built on happiness. We are fair skinned, our eyes the purest blue. Our wings are a blinding white, the feathers pure and unstained by the evils of the world. I was born with wings the color of raven feathers, my eyes a deep honey and caramel. My only angel-like quality is my alabaster flesh.

On many occasions I have received scorn from my brethren for my uniqueness. Often times I settle for concealing my wings so that I do not receive the curious gazes I get all too often. One would think that although I have been alive for countless centuries that angels around me would be accustomed to my outlandish looks. That is not the case. I am the only angel to have been born with black wings and thus they are curious. Why am I this way? Was I meant to fall, as my brother Lucifer did? Many times I find myself pondering why I was born this way. Why was I chosen to be different? My kind is not supposed to be homosexual, and yet, here I stand.

Perhaps soon my father will allow me to fall to Earth, to meet Michael. I do not understand why I feel this way. Every fiber of my being is pulling me toward Michael, toward Earth. Is he my destiny, my divine purpose? That would be wonderful… To finally have a reason for my existence. For now, I shall wait. The time will come that I will be face to face with Michael.