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Authors: Christine Fonseca

Lacrimosa (35 page)

BOOK: Lacrimosa
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They’re always the same. A shapeless girl. An endless fight. Hideous creatures. Angels.

And demons.

The nightmares torment me every night, as they have for the three months since leaving Celestium. My mind drifts to my last days in that place. I should have died. I wanted to die.

I still do…

 

Mikayel walks with me to the Sentinals’ chamber

“Did you kill Azza? Is he gone?


No.” The sadness in Mikayel’s voice is overwhelming.

“And will you kill me now?”

“I cannot.”

“You must,” I beg. “It’s the only way. I won’t be able to hold back the monster I am. Not for long. Not without Nesy.”

“You aren’t a monster.”

“You know I am.”

 

The memory clears as I reach the top of the hill. The fog rolls off the Sound. Snow blankets the ground around me. I watch the light waves caress the water. Whales crest the surface.

Why are they here?

The frigid January wind rips through the trees and my cells. I pull my jacket close around me and tighten my scarf. Drawing a deep breath, I look across the Sound. Everything is so different here. Green and open. Nothing like the tangled mass of buildings I called home for so long. The air smells of pine, reminding of things I long to forget.

Germany.

Her.

I’ve tried to detach, forget. But she won’t let me. She visits my dreams and hides in the shadows of every waking moment. Even now, on the crest behind my home, I hear her voice on the wind.

I release another breath and hike back down the hill. My body, this experience, are foreign. I sense nothing but my own skin. Hear nothing but my own thoughts. I feel none of the connection I’ve shared with the dark creatures. No thoughts of rage or lust.

No visions of angels.
No ravenous hunger.
Nothing.

The change leaves an empty hole inside that cannot be filled. I feel alone, abandoned. I walk back into the large apartment and stare at the leather journal waiting for me on the table. The soft brown binding and crisp blank pages call to me, unleashing even more memories.

I can’t quiet the noise of my own thoughts.

Or my feelings…

 


You may find being human far worse than being the Beast you fear.” Gabriel probes my mind again.

“I doubt that.”

“Tell me, are you upset with your judgment? Your sentence?”

“No,” I answer. “Just confused. Why can’t Mikayel just kill me? Why would you want to make me mortal?”

“We will not kill any creature capable of mercy. Compassion.”

“But
—”

“And we cannot let you live in our world. Or in the Abyss. If you are with us, Azzaziel will surely find you. He will awaken the Beast and eventually it will consume you. Being mortal seems the best alternative in this situation.”

“What if I can’t resist the marks?”

“Resisting that part of your nature will take all of your strength, yes. But it is not impossible.”

I stare at my feet. Still confused. Still afraid.

“Don’t fear who you are, Aydan. Those marks on your neck do not have to define you. You have a lifetime to master your nature. Just remember your true essence.”

“And what is that, sir?”

“You must discover that as well.”

“And if I can’t, what then? If the marks consume me, how am I to resist?”

“I brought this for you. It may help” Gabriel hands a small leather book to me.

“What’s it for?”

“Your thoughts. Fears. Anything. Many humans find it a helpful way to remember.”

“Remember?”

“Their nature. I will see you at the end of that life, when you again face the Council and await your judgment.” Gabriel walks away.

“If I return,” I whisper, the weight of the book heavy in my hands.

 

I stroke the leather binding and place it back on the table unopened. Always unopened.

 

Chapter 49 - Rebirth

 

Aydan

 

The new semester starts and I must resume a normal life. Go to class, meet people. An unfamiliar fear rattles through me. I drown under the loneliness that now defines me. I walk up the steps of my new school, anxiety an ever-present part of my new body. Stealing a glance at my reflection in the glass door, I see myself. Just as tall, just as lean, with skin the color of tea. My hair naturally dark, curling at the ends. My eyes look inhuman—black orbs colored with streaks of amber.

A black turtleneck and heavy scarf hide the remainder of my shame. The top of the brand peeks out from under the scarf. My hands instinctively move to the black marks. They no longer burn, no longer control me.

But for how long?
Trepidation tosses my stomach as acid swirls up my throat, coating my tongue. I pretend I’m fine. Pretend my life is fine.
If only.

Registration takes moments, Gabriel made sure of that. I get my books and walk to class. Every shadow whispers to me. Azza is out there. Somewhere. He will seek his revenge.

He always does.

How can I fight what I can’t see? What I can’t sense? Will the angels who sent me here protect me? Can they? How long will this mortal life last? Not long, I think. Too many questions I can never answer.

Staring at the schedule, I read the name. Aydan Johnson. Just like before. I walk into European History. The teacher assigns me a seat at an empty table.

Good.

No one to bother me. No one to voice the things I cannot say. I think about the past Gabriel has constructed for me. A broken home with parents long dead. The tragedy of that story mirrors my own.

School passes in a blur, one class into the next. One day into the next. There has to be more to this life. More than the loneliness I can’t seem to escape.

Another month passes. And then another. I have no friends. Speak to no one. Azza will send spies to tempt me. Demons dressed up as friends.

I trust no one.

My dreams have turned into waking memories. Images of Nesy are permanently burned into my thoughts. I see every detail of her face painted in the landscape around me. I feel her touch on my skin whenever the wind blows.

And I remember how it felt when she died in my arms.
The scenes of that time repeat over and over in a never-ending loop, constant reminders of the Beast I was.
The Beast I may still be.

I’d accepted my judgment without question. Agreed to live a mortal life. I didn’t know my memories would come with me; didn’t know I’d relive them every day.

Death would have been more merciful.

The leather journal still sits on my table, dust collecting on the cover. I grab it, again caressing the binding.
Use this to remember who you are.
Gabriel’s words repeat in Nesy’s voice.

Remember who you are…

A lone tear slithers down my cheek.

Can I do this?

I open the book, looking at the white linen of the pages. They call to me, begging to be written on. I have nothing left to lose now. The pen gripped tightly in my hand, I begin to write…

 

I didn’t know being human would hurt so much. I feel so cut off. All of the time. And yet, my emotions consume me constantly.

 

The words pour onto the pages as I write my last confessions.
Forbidden love for a human who was an angel.
Fear of the Master who was the Beast.
Hatred for the angel who craved revenge.
Hatred for me.
I empty my soul into the book, one page at a time, until the sun sets.
Tired and vacant, I sleep a dreamless sleep.
At last.

 

Chapter 50 - Hope

 

BOOK: Lacrimosa
9.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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