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Uriel the Weak	By : salarta Category: +A through F > Darksiders (Wrath of War) > Darksiders (Wrath of War) Views: 2549 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Darksiders, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 1-Uriel the Weak
- 1
Author's Note: Okay, It's been a while since I added anything. This is a very short fic, no sexual content, barely any nudity. It's more like describing a basic idea. I'm not planning to add any more to it than what's here, and I currently have no plans to write any other fics.

"Release me, vile beasts!"
Though she tried with all her might, Uriel's struggles counted for little in her current state. As leader of the Hellguard, a role she acquired with the death of Abaddon, she was sworn to face the hordes of Hell, the same hordes that surrounded her and mocked her weakness.
Time and again, she had channeled her wit and skill into her large, mighty angelic blade, a blade as wide as herself and nearly as long as she was tall, gleaming with gold and steel. It was a blade she used to defeat countless of the tall, lanky Noss roaming the devastated Earth. That blade looked pathetic now. Incredibly tiny and slim, it could be mistaken for a tarnished dagger, its sharp edges dulled to the level of a butter knife.
It matched its owner. The beasts looked positively huge compared to the short, scrawny Uriel. Gone was her commanding height, reduced by a full foot. Gone were the muscles of a warrior, atrophied down into the thinnest arms and legs ever to grace an angel's form. The majestic yellow feathered wings once proudly on display in full plumage had shrunk so pitifully small on her frail back that they looked like the wings of some pixie, reaching only to half-torso with a wingspan no bigger than her shoulders. Nothing about her current physique made her look like a fighter feared in the depths of Hell.
"I will not say it again!" she bellowed, but where a ferocious roar should have been, it came out as a faint mewling.
She glared angrily at the horde through bright yellow eyes as they laughed at her. She gripped the handle of her miniscule sword in both her dainty hands and held it as high as she could, a threat that lost all its potency the more her arms quivered to keep its weight above her chest. As with the rest of her, the features that marked her maturity as a woman had been reduced by the demons' fiendish spell: she had no breasts to speak of, presenting a nearly flat chest notable only for the pair of chocolate dark nipples sticking out where her bosom should have been. Her close hips hardly looked suitable for birthing, not that Uriel would have chosen such a path. Hairless except for the silver locks on her head that parted to show the shining white rune on her forehead, her fighting posture meant she pushed her scrawny ass out slightly.
"How the mighty Uriel of the Hellguard has fallen. Tell us, Uriel, how does it feel to lose all that power and discover your place as the weakest of all angels?"
Uriel growled and bared her teeth at their taunting. They had diminished her, robbed her of her womanly warrior physique and left her with one that made her look slight and girly, but they had not regressed her age. Her tiny wings fluttered while her tiny chest heaved. The heat of the flames surrounding her forced droplets of sweat from her delicate dark skin for the first time in centuries. This was not the body of a child. This was the body of a sissy, molded precisely into something fragile enough to insult the hardened spirit that burned within her.
She shouted, her courageous will stained by a cracking, trembling voice that made her sound genuinely terrified of her foes. "You force me to stand here before you naked in this pitiful state, and you choose to laugh at me rather than slay me. Why? Are you still afraid?"
"Strong words from an angel that cannot even speak to us without shaking in fear. Death is a fleeting victory. We will release you, Uriel, but only after we have taught you to accept your new body as the one you deserve. Then and only then will we allow you to leave us, so that you may show everyone the puny creature that was once known as the great Champion of the White City."
"Damn you! Face me one on one and I will show you just how weak I am."
She expected one of the big, brutish ones to step out, if they didn't rush her all at once, but what she got was one of the smaller, more basic of damned humanoid creatures crawling toward her on all fours. As the demon approached, Uriel readied herself on her weak, shaky legs.
- 1
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Uriel the Weak