My darkest day

I remember it like it was yesterday and I suspect I always will. Don’t get me wrong, my hands were not clean of fae blood. No, far from it. I was a dutiful member of the Dominance Division, and our main duty was carrying out the extermination orders handed down by the CILL.
Sure, it had always bothered me when ‘extermination’ included women and children. I understood the basic concept - that the fae were a blight on Midgard, and until they were eradicated or sufficiently cowed, we would never find peace. Still, when it came down to actually doing the deed… I mean, they barely looked different than Celestial women and children. Their tears and screams and blood were just as real.
The CILL had to recommend me for a Recommitment Ceremony on more than one occasion. They were nice about it though, kept it off my permanent record. The ceremonies helped, some. I never really got past the sick feeling in my stomach though, when performing my expected duties.
But extermination is one thing and enslavement is something else entirely. Which is what I stumbled into that fateful day - one of our own CIL flocks, rounding up the fae targets and caging them, rather than executing the kill order. I questioned the purpose of this round up, unwilling to believe that our leadership would provide immoral commands.
Their flock commander refused to answer, carrying on as if I wasn’t even there. I know I was only a Level Six, compared to his Level Nine, but still.
I didn’t leave - something that haunted me for decades after. I should’ve just left, let them carry on, and I’d still have my life, my career, my home, my wings. No amount of Recommitment Ceremonies would’ve erased reality from my brain, the truth I learned when I stayed and listened to the flock chatter.
These fae weren’t being exterminated because they were destined for another purpose. They were all women and children this time, and none of them warriors. Easy pickings. They were separating them, tearing babes from their mothers’ arms. The cacophony was overwhelming.
The pretty lasses were to be sent to the underground brothels (brothels I’d previously believed to be silly rumors). The babes were for the scientists. There were a few jokes about vivisection thrown around.
I don’t think they were jokes.
Now this is the part I don’t really remember. Next thing I knew, I came to, standing in a mess of blood and bodies. None of the bodies were fae. And none of the angels were alive. Save one.
That’s the part I regret the most. Turning around to meet my best wingmate's eyes. Seeing naught but confusion, pain, betrayal, and hatred.
I’ll never forget that.