Immoral - G. Bailey
Chaos was never bred with humans. It came from the heavens above, wrapped in angel wings and beauty so alluring no one could refuse it. It came from the goddesses, who came to our world in the name of peace and instead caused endless pain, stirring the fragile peace that the world had to begin with. Staring at the dark skies above me, I wonder what our world could have been like without their influence on it. Would I have had a normal childhood, would any of my descendants still be alive?
Would I ever have met Kaitlyn, who pulled my soul from the dark pits I’d wallowed in and showed me how to breathe once again?
As the skies fill with angels, I drop my sword onto the ground and smile as they call my name, shout for me to stay still in case I tried to fight them all. I would, if it meant I could see her one more time…but I know it wouldn’t work.
I’m smarter than that. I’ve made a plan.
We have one chance to save Kaitlyn, and if it means risking myself, then so be it. As dozens of angels land in a circle around me, holding their weapons up even though I have no reason to fight them, a familiar angel lands in front of me. His white wings are spread out at his sides, and I didn’t expect him to be with them. His presence makes me itch to pick up the sword and end his life, fuck the plan. I close my eyes and remember Kaitlyn, and my need for revenge drifts away to the back of my mind.
“Why are you here, lad?” Gabriel asks, his eyes full of confusion and slight interest. The angel who I once trusted, the angel who slew me like nothing more than a dog, almost looks guilty as he stares at me.
The wonders will never stop.
My answer will always be the same. “To save her.”
Time is a funny thing when you only have a ghost with a missing head as company. I stare at my new friend, mister ghost head as I’ve named him, as he floats around the room I’m locked in. His clothes are modern, so he couldn’t have died too long ago, and instead of a light or darkness for him to go in, he just floats around in blue light. I don’t have a clue what that light is, and honestly, I’m not sure I want to. According to the lines I’ve drawn on the walls, it’s been a month since The Angel Academy fell and the angels used magic to knock me out after capturing me. I woke up in here sometime later, and other than mister ghost head, I don’t see anyone but a hand, which pushes a tray of food, bottled water and bottled blood probably from a goat, through a slot at the bottom of the door. I almost wish the ghost had a head so I could talk to him. Talking to myself is getting really old.
My surroundings include grey stone walls, a cabin bed that squeaks every time I move on it, and a desk with a metal chair. I have my own bathroom, which is no more than a white-tiled room with a sink, a toilet and a tiny shower, but it does the job. The clothes here aren’t too bad, though I only have three outfits, which I wash in the sink and dry over the shower. They’re all the same: three grey hoodies that are too big, black T-shirts and leggings to match. Apparently, shoes are not something they wanted to give me.
The only thought that gets me through the boredom is feeling that my mates are okay and praying that Ren and Myles are too. I don’t feel alone with my connection to them; it’s almost like they are here. I’m not really alone, I have to tell myself that. Vesnia is strong and nearly an angel, so the angels wouldn’t have taken her and hurt her, I doubt. Unless she mentions how much she clearly cares for a vampire. I figure that wouldn’t get her bonus points. Thallon is the same in some sense, and I believe he would have been safe from the angels. I can’t see why they would bother to hurt him.
Walking to my wall, I pick up a nail I dug out of the bed and drew a line through four others, making my sixth group, before stepping