The vampires angel

his awakening

Chapter 3: His Awakening

Five years ago.

It was my 18th birthday, and I was hanging out with my friends James and Joseph. We had just gotten out of the movies, having gone to see some forgettable scary movie in theaters. Laughing with my friends at the apparent "scary movie" which wasn't all that frightening, I took out my cellphone, one of those new touchscreen smartphones. Sometimes the screen would glitch, as the technology was still relatively new. The time read 11:45 PM. We were walking the streets toward the east side of town, past the new night club that was being built. Or rather, remodeled – an old building with tons of space was being transformed into a thunderingly loud night spot. About two blocks away to the east was the edge of the forest. Along the long stretch of road that ran parallel to the forest, about two blocks up from the road I was standing on, was the elementary school. My house was about three blocks beyond the school, at the very edge of town.

"Hey guys, I have to go. I'll see you in school on Monday," I said to James and Joseph, waving goodbye as they headed in a different direction towards their homes. I walked toward the road that led towards the forest, the nagging feeling becoming stronger, almost physically drawing me in. It was a minute to midnight when I reached the end of the two blocks. I stood looking at the treeline, a familiar presence, an undeniable pull, emanating from within the forbidden woods. Something about an ancient legend, a battle between good and evil, kept people away. I chuckled to myself. "Stupid legend. People are afraid of what they don't understand." A smirk touched my lips as I decided to enter the forest, a foolish teenage urge to prove it was nothing to worry about, that it wasn't dangerous.

I walked across the street, slowly stepping into the forest, an invisible force guiding me, luring me somewhere specific. The old trees stood like silent testaments to time, the undergrowth rustling with unseen creatures. My senses were becoming sharper; my eyesight adjusted to the low visible light, the moon's glow dim and almost nonexistent, yet my vision was clear, acute. Soon, I was standing above a valley on a cliff. In the center of the valley, almost swallowed by vines and ancient trees, were crumbling ruins. I gripped my chest where my heart should be, a searing pain ripping through me, a silent cry escaping my lips as tears stung my eyes. An overwhelming need to go to the castle surged through me. As the pain subsided, I made my way down towards the crumbling structure. I felt more alive than ever before, yet also strangely hollow, a gnawing hunger, a desperate need to feed, even though I had just eaten hamburgers and french fries before the movie. I shouldn't be hungry, but I was.

I stepped through a crumbling archway, the long-forgotten ruins of the castle looming before me. The frantic thundering of my heart had begun to slow, replaced by a cold, steady beat that felt alien yet familiar. But the need, that gnawing emptiness, was intensifying, a physical ache that resonated deep within my bones. Suddenly, a raw scream tore from my throat, not of my own volition, but an echo of ancient agony. A searing pain lanced through my skull, and then they came – the memories. A torrent of images, emotions, lifetimes crashing into my eighteen-year-old mind. The sensory overload threatened to shatter my sanity, the weight of centuries pressing down on my fragile teenage consciousness. But amidst the chaos, one memory burned brighter, clearer than the rest – the moment of our first true conflict.

The Throne Room

I sat upon my carved stone throne, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and a faint, intoxicating tang of her blood. My eyes, the color of the sea after a storm – a deep, swirling green flecked with hints of grey, subtly masking their true crimson depths, sharp and predatory, were fixed on the angel chained to the far wall. A cruel smirk played on my lips as I savored the anticipation. She was still, her usually vibrant silver eyes hidden behind closed lids. The mortal shell she wore was already beginning to fray at the edges, the delicate human features blurring, revealing glimpses of the celestial being beneath. It was a fascinating, if fleeting, sight. The power that radiated from her, even in her unconscious state, was a heady wine.

I had watched her approach my stronghold, a foolishly transparent disguise attempting to mask her radiant essence. As if I, who had walked this earth for centuries, wouldn't recognize the light of my eternal enemy. A swift gesture, a whisper of dark magic, and she was mine. Bound, helpless, and bleeding.

Her eyelids fluttered, and those intense silver eyes finally opened, locking onto mine with a gaze that held both fear and an unyielding defiance. "You truly believed I wouldn't recognize you, Luna? Sweet child," I purred, the charming smile I offered a stark contrast to the iron in my voice. "I have walked this earth for centuries, my power far eclipses your own fledgling light."

I rose from my throne, the ancient stone groaning softly beneath my weight. I moved towards her, each step deliberate, the soft thud of my boots echoing in the vast chamber. I reached out, a long, cold finger tracing the delicate curve of her jaw.

"Join me," I murmured, my voice a low, silken caress. "Become my queen, and together we shall rule this pathetic world."

"Never," she spat, the single word a spark of rebellion that ignited a flicker of dark pleasure within me. The sting of her spittle on my face, even in memory, was a sharp reminder of her unwavering spirit. A surge of rage, hot and immediate, coursed through me. My eyes, the color of the sea after a storm – a deep, swirling green flecked with hints of grey, subtly masking their true crimson depths – flashed crimson for a fleeting instant as my open hand lashed out, striking her hard across the face. The sound of the impact echoed in the throne room, and a deeper crimson stained her lip.

My gaze drifted to the small trickle of blood that welled on her split lip. Almost without conscious thought, I reached out, my thumb gently wiping away the crimson stain. The scent was even more potent up close, a strange mix of celestial power and mortal fragility. I brought my thumb to my mouth, the taste… it was unlike anything I had ever encountered. Sweet, yes, but with an underlying current of pure, untainted energy. A dangerous, intoxicating flavor.

"I despise the taste of blood in most instances," I mused, my voice barely a whisper. "But yours…"The memory shifted again, the angel's voice, though laced with pain, ringing with unwavering conviction. "You are a monster, Damon."

A dismissive shake of my head, my black hair, even in the fragmented memory, falling across my brow. "It matters little to me what you think, little light. Soon, your very soul will be mine. You could have stood by my side, a queen in the shadows. Now, I shall devour your essence and ascend to ultimate power, ruling all that exists." I had turned away, confident in my victory, in her inevitable demise.

Then, a sudden shift in the memory – a surge of unexpected strength from the chained angel. The clink of snapping metal. A cold, sharp pain searing through my back. Disbelief and agony flooded my senses as I staggered, dark blood erupting from my mouth. I looked down, seeing the silver hilt of a knife protruding from my chest.

Betrayal. The image of her defiant silver eyes, now filled with a grim determination, burned into my memory.

"You… b***h," the dying curse rasped from my throat as I stumbled backward, falling to my knees. The horrifying realization of true death washed over me, my crimson eyes widening in shock. "Though I fall this day, our souls will reincarnate until our souls are at peace, a curse upon us both!" With a final, desperate act fueled by centuries of hatred, I hurled the silver dagger, its tip catching the light before burying itself in her chest.

The memory fractured, the pain and the echoing curse fading as the present rushed back. My breath hitched, my heart pounding in my chest as if the events had just transpired. The hunger, the ancient need, clawed at me, a desperate reminder of what I was, what I had always been.