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DEATH BRINGER

CHAPTER THREE

By ConfessionsPublished 4 years ago 4 min read
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Chapter Three

Azriel caught an updraft and he soared for miles, he lost track of the landscape beneath him, didn’t care enough to take note of his direction or where he was. As the fresh autumn air ripped at him, he screamed into the wind. He bellowed and swore letting every ounce of his anger, his frustration empty out of his body and into the nothingness of the night sky.

So many emotions coarsed through him. He’d never had so many emotions before. How did they cope? How did they handle the anger and the sadness? How could they process the overwhelming despair?

As quickly as they’d arrived, they left him. As he’d emptied the fire of his anger into the air, it’d left him exhausted, it left him cold to his core.

Spiralling downwards, plummeting towards the earth, he wondered briefly what it’d be like to die. What it’d be like to cease to exist. Would his immortal body ever cease to exist?

The ground came into view, rushing up to meet him. Would he be cursed forever? Was this to be his existence?

The thoughts hit him like stones, each one heavier to carry than the last. Dragging him downwards towards the sharp rocks beneath him and the ocean that threw itself against them.

As he freefell the air around him shifted. He almost didn’t feel it but then the sky went from darkest night to blazing orange. Sunrise.

Throwing out his wings at the last possible moment Azriel barely managed to slow himself enough to avoid shattering entirely on the rocks. They tore at his clothes, grazing his skin in places as he pulled up.

He barely noticed the small drops of blood that clung to the skin of his legs or the sharp sting of the pain as he took in the sky around him. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen, the bright reds, the oranges and the vibrant pinks of dawn illuminated everything.

Azriel understood then, he saw the beauty of the world around him. He understood that the depth of his anger and his rage were because he’d cared. He had been human enough to care.

His grief was for Grace. His anger at the world was because she was in so much pain. His anger at himself was because he couldn’t fix it for her. He had some otherworldly powers but this was something he could never make right.

Perhaps feeling things this deeply was also part of his curse. Maybe his punishment was also to care for things he would eventually lose.

He circled back on himself. Having flown hundreds of miles he needed to head back, to find the strange girl that made him feel so alive.

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Azriel waited days for her. He sat in the trees near her caravan, waiting for her to come home but she never did. When he saw the other children leaving for school, he wrapped himself in shadow and waited for her there too.

After a week, he began searching the city. Grace had to be somewhere here. She had to be.

It wasn’t until a month passed that he began to give up hope of finding her again.

Perhaps, he told himself, it was for the best. She wasn’t in danger anymore. She didn’t need him. He was immortal and she was human. He’d have watched her age and she’d have died. Maybe this was a mercy, even if his chest ached. Even if he felt the loss with every inch of his being, maybe this would be better for her.

He tried to force himself to let her go.

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“Happy Birthday Gracie!” he crooned it into the small room. Grace had gone rigid, the man had that effect on her. When she’d heard the key click in the lock any warmth had seeped from her.

It was always the same. The sun would appear over the horizon. It made patterns through the bars on her window and when the streaks of light reached the feet of her bed, he would come. The door would click open. He’d slip in with her meds and lock the door behind him.

He’d put the meds down on the table. He’d tell her to lie face down on the bed and then he’d begin his violation.

It had been years.

Years of quiet tears as he did this daily. Years of his rough hands. Years of her going somewhere incredibly distant as he did these things to her. Years of begging hospital staff for help. Years of being ignored.

But today, she told herself as she lay face down, today it would end.

His hands went to the trousers that she wore, her hand went to the long rusty nail she’d managed to pry out of her bed. As he greedily felt every inch of her, she gripped that nail with white knuckles and her hand did not shake.

It did not shake, not as she twisted, too quickly for him to track the motion and plunged it in the neck of the fat doctor.

Everything happened in slow motion then. She wriggled free as his blood sprayed. The heat of it on her face didn’t repulse her. She yanked up her trousers and smiled at him.

Smiled at him as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He clutched at his throat desperately, pulling at the nail still jammed in there. He managed to free it, but that only made the blood spray quicker.

Grace didn’t run. There wasn’t anywhere for her to go. She just sat, in his blood, smiling and waiting to be found.

KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR CHAPTER FOUR!

fantasy
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About the Creator

Confessions

Nothing but the truth.

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