Futurism logo

DEATH BRINGER NOVEL

CHAPTER ONE

By ConfessionsPublished 4 years ago 4 min read
1

Chapter One

Azriel had never been cold before. Temperature was incredibly human and he, he was something else entirely. But he remembered that the icy bitterness had been his first impression of this dreaded planet. Glowering up at the sky, knowing full well that his mother was probably up there somewhere gloating, he cursed her silently.

He hadn’t just been sentenced to live amongst the parasites, no, she had decided that it would be too easy. That her insects were too lovable and it wouldn’t be a punishment at all. He had been given a job to do, a purpose here.

When she had passed the sentence he had begged her for death. He had fully expected to be sentenced to die, to be forced to return back to the dust after the temper tantrum and quick cunning that had ended thousands of mortal lives.

He hadn’t expected her to be right though. He hadn’t expected to feel for these beasts. Love would be a strong word, but as the centuries passed and the lines blurred, he began to feel for them. As his memories of home drifted further away and the faces of his brothers faded in his mind, he began to understand them.

Their earthly pleasures began to appeal to him. Pretty poisons in nice bottles that seemed to dull the ache of his gifts called to him. He spent his free moments gulping it down.

He was slumped in a chair in the rundown apartment he occupied when the call went out. It was a woman and her pain could be heard for miles by those who knew how to listen, her sobs rang through the dark city and her breaths were labored and gasping as she tried to escape.

Cloaking himself in darkness and unfurling his mighty black wings, he flew towards the sound and landed minutes later at her feet.

Clothed in a white nightgown, she lay limp on the floor of the dimly lit hospital room. She was already further gone than he’d expected. Her limbs were blue with cold and strands of her hair stuck to the tears on her face. Rivers of scarlet seeped from her open wounds. Her blood was like red rose petals on that pale nightdress, beautiful and devastating.

Her fingernails were torn and bloody where she had gauged at her own arms.

Azriel took in the horror of the room and then knelt beside her. She still whimpered and gasped for breath, looking up at him with swollen, pleading eyes.

He wasn’t here to save her.

It didn’t take much to slip into her body, to ease that pain and lull her softly to sleep. As her mind slept, letting go of the pain of the present, he endured it for her.

He felt a sensation in his head, like insects writhing around in his mind. They ate away at him, taking small bites, removing part of him one piece at a time. It must have been maddening, how long had she endured it before resorting to this?

His own wrists seared, burning from the scratches and his own blood was warm on his too cold skin.

It didn’t take long for her to leave, he noticed his breaths spacing out, and his heart-beat coming to a slow and steady stop.

When he could no longer feel her there, curled against his mind, he withdrew. Her ghostly form lay next to him, her mouth having spoken it’s last word, her nose having exhaled its last breath and her eyes having seen their last image. With gentle hands he closed those eyes.

Wings flaring behind him he bent at the waist and sobbed, he silently released a prayer to the mother that she would be welcomed wherever she was to go next. He hoped that the life she was heading into would be kinder to her than this one was.

He stiffened as a tiny, warm hand caressed one of his wings. Turning slowly, he assessed the child. She couldn’t have been more than ten. She was in pink fluffy pyjamas, her hair plaited neatly over both ears. Covered in someone else’s blood, kneeling beside a body, he should have horrified the little girl.

Yet she stood beside him, arm outstretched and offered him comfort.

“It’s okay,” she whispered to him. Running her hand up and down the soft black feathers on his right wing. “Liz was in a lot of pain,” the girl offered.

When Azriel just stared at her, tears still drying on his cheeks, she reached out and took his bloodied hand. He was unsure of what to do, all thoughts seemed to leave him entirely.

“Nurse Helen says that when people leave, they go to a better place where they aren’t in pain anymore. She says we should pray for them,” she looked up at him with her large, honey coloured eyes. It took a breath to realise she was waiting for his approval. He nodded to her and she knelt next to him and closed her eyes. Her tiny body seemed to radiate warmth that spread through him.

Kneeling on that cold, tiled hospital floor in Brooklyn, Azriel’s heart began to melt. He vowed that he would look after this child as she had looked after him in this dark, painful moment.

Keep an eye out for chapter two!

fantasy
1

About the Creator

Confessions

Nothing but the truth.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.