𝐈𝐥𝐥-𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ✔️

8

A D O N I S

As I stand with the vampires, I watch Valeria from across the tables. She drinks her morning coffee with her witch friends, she's very well-liked, the opposite of me. I am well-feared. People tend to like her, her kindness, her sarcasm. 

"All students on the bus immediately."

The teacher yells. It's an order, with no room for arguing. I can feel the stomach's drop around me, I know what this is about, but nobody else does.

"What is this about?" a student asks.

"No questions," the teacher snaps. "Grab your things and get on the bus now."

People are worried. Nervous. I'm not. I know exactly what I did and I did not feel bad about it. I'd do it over and over again.

I grab my things. I get on the bus to sit alone, but Stella sits down next to me. She asks, "What do you think this is about? They're acting like somebody died."

As we sit at the back, I say nothing. The hundreds of students get onto the buses, and they begin driving without double-checking anything. The ride is silent. The air is heavy. Everybody glances around, wondering what has happened.

The teacher at the front stands up, holding onto the seat for support on the bumpy road. She says to everyone, "Two boys were found dead last night. Peter and Nicolas."

People gasp. They look shocked. Terrified. I don't. Peter, I had been wondering if he was an angel or just a strict rule follower. When the purity of his heart mixed into my dark veins, I got my answer. Nicolas wasn't an angel. Just somebody who deserved to die after threatening a demon.

"We will be conducting an investigation about this," she says sternly before sitting back down. 

I look at Valeria. Her reaction. The first person I ever suspected. But my eyebrows lower slightly as I see her face. She does not react. Maybe some sadness on her face from hearing about death, but she does not react as if she were an angel who just lost one of their own. 

I was wrong about her.

Whispers continue amongst everybody. That didn't surprise me. People loved to talk. But there was one thing I heard that caught my attention.

"I think I saw who did it last night."

Everybody looks to the guy who said those words. Even though he had said it quietly, everybody heard it. He gets questioned, "You did? Who did it?"

Their lips open before any words come out. They think before they speak. He says, "I saw somebody without a face."

"Enough," somebody says. "This isn't something to joke about."

"I'm not joking!" he defends himself. "I thought I was lucid dreaming. But I swear, when I opened my eyes to turn around, I saw somebody standing in the room without a face. It was just a black abyss." 

People give each other glances. Some look afraid, some are clear they don't believe him. What he says does not worry me. Nobody will be able to see my face. 

The rest of the drive is silent.

And I'm one angel closer to releasing the demons.