Unsightly Thing

Every single night, for as long as he could remember, Johan would climb up the hilltop not far from his family’s ranch. Every single night, after being done with the farm work, Johan would climb that hilltop to pray. Johan wouldn’t pray for a resolution of an issue that had plagued him, nor for a cure to a terrible disease. He prayed for something rather simple and pointless at first glance – Johan prayed to be visited by an angel. He had neither a request to make nor a desire for a personal blessing. The man merely wished to behold an angel in all of its celestial glory.

Johan grew up a member of the Orthodox church, the church which venerates the angelic hosts. On top of his orthodox upbringing, Johan’s community had a few accounts of divine intervention. Imitations of Byzantine decorating the interior of his local church awed him to no end.  That and the descriptions of heavenly beings caused the man to lust for a glance at the children of his lord. It was after an innocent wish, was it not? The mere will to behold the sacred glory of the hosts. Johan prayed every single night to be allowed to view the sight of an angelic entity. He was nothing short of a pious man. After years of praying and wishing, the Lord had finally allowed it.

On a cloudy night, right after Johan had finished his nightly prayer, the sky cracked with a thundering noise. Assuming the rain was about to pour, Johan made his way down the hill, hoping to make it home before he got drenched. As he made his way down, the voices of a choir echoed through the night’s sky. The singing was so beautiful it was almost surreal, prompting Johan to stop and look around, hoping to find the source of the singing. He could not even understand the singing at first. Looking left and right, the man could not see a thing. Looking up, he saw the clouds being torn apart. The sight stunned the man, and he stared as the clouds drifted farther apart, revealing a menagerie of beautiful colors, unlike the ones he had ever seen before. There were all kinds of shades he could not name or even properly fathom. It was so bright and beautiful, both vibrantly luminescent and dim. Shifting that way and that, like a living rainbow. The longer the farmer stared, the more unearthly details seemed to fill his field of vision.

Johan stood frozen in place as the singing of the choir had slowly become clearer and the thing above him in the sky grew more bizarre. In no time, the man faced a massive structure made up of lights, heads, and eyes, flapping grotesque wings and animal parts. Was this an angel? In Johan’s mind, the idea made no sense. Angelic entities must be beautiful, that’s what he was thought. The artistic depictions, the scriptures, all paint the holy hosts as an army of beings of untold beauty.

Once the heavenly being revealed its full glory to Johan, it struck the man with terror. His heart was attempting to escape through his ribcage, his eyes glued to the unsightly thing above him, and his ears flooded with the singing of the angelic choir. The presence of the celestial entity burnt out Johan’s eyes. He screamed like a wild animal as the withering animal parts, ever-shifting eyes and wings danced around burning miniature suns until the farmer could no longer tell one from the other. He screamed for as long as his eyes were burning until there was nothing but the eerie darkness left.

Once robbed of his sight, the man finally tore his gaze away from the sky and collapsed to his knees. The singing of the choir became painfully intelligible, and a thick liquid ran down the man’s cheeks. The voices that started off warm and inviting turned hollow and cold as they sang.

"O child of the arch-human

Behold the luminous heavenly sun rise

As the aether flows above

With the soil of the garden coiling below in abyssal water

The locusts of the Pentacrator are beset by ravenous hunger

Praised thee for your sacrifice"

Johan’s heart sunk, the meaning his encounter with the divine weighted greatly on him. The weight of a philistine temple seemed to grow on top of his shoulders, Johan for as pious as he could be not accept such a fate. He tried to protest, to reason with the angelic entity, but it was too late.

Before he could even utter a sound, the skies rained fire upon him. All he could do was scream as the heavenly flames ate at his flash. All he could do was scream until there was not enough of him left to do so.