A Chance With the Devil

The moonlit sky was dark enough that the birds of prey could not be seen. But these were no birds of any possible kind traditionally known to man. Black feathery wings streaked across the sky, multiple pairs naturally belonging to one simple being. Each of the beings headed in various directions, some of them diving below the clouds to land, some of them continuing to fly on, heading to far-off places. Where they were going, not even they know. Guided only by the peculiar instinct to fiercely protect was the only thing that kept them moving. Discovering their place, however, typically relied on destiny’s choices. * * * The alleyway was dark; empty except for a couple of dumpsters that were placed in between the doors that led into the loud buildings. Something in me had guided me here. An instinct perhaps, but to me, it was as if my heart was pumping louder the nearer I got. Massive grey, feathery wings flapped on both sides of me as I dove to the ground. When I neared the floor, I spread my arms out to the sides, making my wings stretch as well to reduce my speed as I dropped to the ground. All my senses were alert as I looked around the small compacted area. My eyes told me I was alone, and my ears told me I had company in the building to my right heading out the back. Swiftly, I ran to the nearest dumpster and jumped in. I almost puked as I inhaled the acrid scents of spoiled food and drinks. Great. Now you throw up on the most important mission of your life. Way to go Kayla. I inwardly chided myself as I heard the door open and before I knew it, I had buried myself under multiple plastic bags. Footsteps approached, along with the crinkling of yet another bag. When it neared the trash, I was in, a shadow loomed over me. Another weight was pressed on my left leg as whoever it was tossed another bag in. They didn’t stay for very long and soon, the mortal’s footsteps faded and a door was closed. I waited for just a second and then made my move, folding my wings to allow myself an easier way to wiggle out of the garbage. I jumped over the side and listened carefully. Detecting nothing, I stood up on both my feet and brushed the remnants of food off of me. Naturally, I was wearing a black corset, complete with a long black skirt that dragged against the floor. My hair was parted down the middle, long waves gracefully falling over my shoulders and kept down with a diadem made out of silver. It was made with two wings that rested in the middle of my forehead and completed with an onyx jewel that rested between both my brows. My arms were clad in evening gloves that were patterned with a variety of birds and floral plants using a black and red laced fabric that wrapped around my middle finger. My feet were covered in long black boots that zipped up on the side. Funny thing was, nobody would guess that I was a dark angel. How could they, though? There were plenty of us around the world performing our job and blending in all the while. We stood only to defend the one thing that mattered to us; quite literally. Upon maturity, each dark angel was released from the stormy clouds overhead and set out into the world, guided by a feeling to protect a certain someone. And no, not all of that relationship crap; us angels aren’t born to mingle with the mortals, instead, we are destined to protect them so that we can ensure that they live on. The constant wars that mortals involve themselves in are diminishing their numbers dramatically and because of that, more and more dark angels are left to go crazy once their mortal has perished. I was a newly matured fledgling, released from a storm that happened a couple of days ago in a place far from where I was now. I had been flying for days, my wings effortlessly transporting me across the skies. I was only guided by this feeling that my heart seemed to know about. In some ways, my mission was unique. Typically, a dark angel was born at the exact moment their mortal was. When a mortal woman gave birth to their newborn, nobody would see the smaller being that emerged behind the newborn mortal. In a way, we were their shadows. The newborn dark angel was then transported to the skies and in clouds where they would begin growing. In between the growth stages, each mortal and dark angel would receive various sorts of dreams that helped strengthen the bond between the two. However, something had gone amiss in my case. The bond with my mortal had been broken not long after I was born and I was instead, raised by the higher superiors that overlooked the dark angels. They were deemed, The Guardians of Light. Even though I had been born a dark angel, I was also a Guardian of Light by knowledge. An exceptionally rare case considering I was the only hybrid between the two. Some people believed it to be because there must be something critical about my destined mortal. I, however, believed it was because something went awry during our births. Even then, whatever the cause, it somehow affected my learning and part of my visual appearance. Whilst most dark angels have a sword cross tattoo along the curve of their necks, my tattoo was of a colored glass ball of some sort that was shattered down the middle on the side of my shoulder. A nest of swords rested underneath it, propping it up. None of the Guardians could figure out why there was only half of the ball but they left it alone. I was a hybrid, and none of them knew what would become of me. Just because I was different didn’t necessarily mean I was treated differently as well. During my growth stages, I learned about the usual ways of the dark angels: weaknesses, strengths, and the process of defending a mortal over many years. Not only that but I was also taught the powers of Light and how to use that to my personal advantage. I was not to be messed around with and was known highly of my outbursts of anger and was steered clear from. Now that I reached maturity, I was sent out to find my mortal and possibly figure out what happened to me while also keeping my unknown identity a secret. Cautiously, I approached the door that the person before had walked through. It was just an ordinary stained white door and seemed to not suit any purpose whatsoever except to let people walk in and out of the building. Pressing my ear to the door, I was able to detect booming noises that seemed very finely tuned. As much as I would possess an advantage over most people, I was not at all taught the basics of mortals and somehow was already finding it hard. Some of the things that I could see in the alleyway were of some familiarity, but others were completely impossible to identify. That was one thing I regretted not learning about. Before I walked in, however, I properly focused my mind on my wings as I had been taught and imagined them folding themselves to a thin sheet. I instantly felt the rush of wind that told me my wings were now part of a long feathery cloak that went down my frame and rested at the base of my skirt before spreading out behind me to drag along the floor. My hand rested on the door and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I had never been near mortals and I had no idea how they were. What if something went wrong and this feeling is not where destiny has actually needed me to be? I took my mission seriously, I was not the type of dark angel that did what I wanted whenever I wanted to. I had a mission, and it was meant to be done. I twisted the handle and pushed the door open. The first thing I observed was the many lights that flashed in my face. It was really hard to see among the various colors. I heard the door close shut behind me and I flinched just a little bit. The relentless pounding of my anxious heart got louder with every step as I got closer to whoever it was that was destined to be my mortal. Naturally, they wouldn’t be able to know I was their personal protector considering dark angels don’t exist in their world. I would just have to befriend them. Or at least I hope. I wasn’t exactly given any instructions on what to do once I discovered my mortal so I had no idea where this would take me. I’ve heard of the dark angels that went crazy after nothing happened to them and I was very scared that it would happen to me. Not to mention, there was something off about my mortal and me. Or else I wouldn’t be a hybrid. Once my eyes finally adjusted to where I was, I was surprised to see that there were many eyes on me. These mortals are very revealing. Most of the women in the building wore large shirts that exposed the front of their chests as if they were supposed to be there. The dark angels I was educated alongside were dressed from head to toe with just parts of their skin being revealed. But apparently, these mortals were different. Strangely different. I could feel the way my heart would jump as I met someone’s gaze, hoping that they were the mortal I was destined to find. But no, none of them gained a different reaction than the previous one. Letting out a nervous sigh, I walked over to a seat and sat down. My feathered cloak and black skirt dragged on the floor behind me as I walked. When I sat down, I realized that it was probably why they were staring at me. I didn’t exactly blend in as I was supposed to. And there goes part two of my mission. Suddenly, I could feel my heart jump practically out of my chest as I felt eyes on me. But these weren’t the eyes I was searching for. The hairs on the back of my neck stood, alerting me of potential danger. I forced myself to hold my position until I could be certain of what it was. I felt something graze along with the feathery cloak that disguised my wings, and it sent both small shivers of pleasure and unease through me. “My, my, my, what a lovely black rose that has been brought into my club,” a voice said from behind my ear. I suppressed a shudder that made my heart almost skip a couple of beats. Slowly, I forced myself to turn around and find whoever it was. My eyes gazed upon a black leather jacket that was unbuttoned with a white shirt underneath. Muscular features were obviously this man’s greatest asset to him. I slowly looked up and saw the tattoo that made my breath completely stop. I tried desperately to speak, to say something that showed I was not lost at words but I only managed to open and shut my mouth in shock. The man had the same tattoo as mine. The only difference was, he had the other half that mine would make complete. My heart began to race and I feared I would pass out somehow. How could he be the one? He doesn’t even look strange! Actually, he looks pretty handsome. I shook away those thoughts. It was not the time to be admiring the view. Especially by someone like me. Instead, I finally met the eyes of the person to whom the tattoo belonged to and that’s when I blacked out.