The Seventh Angel

Chapter 9

I'm standing at the edge of the city as chaos unfolds. People are fleeing in terror, the sky darkened by storm clouds and a horde of black-winged angels soaring above. Their faces are etched with fury, ready to strike. Fear grips me, paralyzing every muscle. I can't move. I can only watch as a black-eyed man descends, his gaze locked on me.

I try to turn, to flee, but my legs feel like they're stuck in quicksand. Every step is agony, and behind me, I hear his low, menacing laughter echoing in the air!

"You can run, but you can't hide!" His sinister laughter echoes in my mind, and the sensation of him catching up to me jolts me awake.

"NO!" I shout, my voice breaking the silence. My eyes dart around, frantically trying to piece together my surroundings. It was just another nightmare.

Disoriented, I glance down at my coat, draped over me like a blanket as I lie on the cold ground. My memories flood back-him, the angel, abducting me. As I sit up, my eyes catch a glimpse of a black cloth wrapped around my knee. Confusion grips me, and I frown, surveying the area.

It's still night. To my right, a fire pit crackles softly, its warmth radiating through the cold air. Further ahead, my captor stands with his back to me, those enormous white wings glowing faintly against the dark sky. He's preoccupied, his right wing twitching as he pulls his shirt off, revealing a wound. He's removing something-likely a bullet-and the low growl that escapes his lips confirms the pain he must be in.

Every instinct tells me to get up and run, to flee as far as I can. But as soon as I so much as shift, he senses it. Without turning around, his voice cuts through the night.

"Don't bother trying to escape again. I'm not in the mood for games." His warning is firm as he tears off a sleeve from his black top, using it to wipe the blood from his wounded wing.

"Wh... how long was I unconscious?" I ask cautiously, pulling my coat tighter around me as I lean back against a tree for support.

"A few hours," he finally replies, after tending to his wounded wing. Slowly, he rises from his crouch and turns to face me. Even from a distance, he's massive and imposing, his sheer presence overwhelming. As he walks toward me, his gaze locks onto mine, every step deliberate and filled with confidence. I watch in disbelief as his wings begin to shrink, eventually vanishing into his back.

Great, he can blend in with humans, I think bitterly, the small flicker of hope I had for escape fading fast.

He stops a few feet away, maintaining a careful distance. A flicker of satisfaction surges through me-perhaps he's wary of me after I fought back. Good.

"Get up. We need to move." His voice is commanding, grating on my nerves.

"I'm injured, in case you haven't noticed!" I snap, pointing to my right leg, where his black shirt's torn sleeve is wrapped around my wound. "I need to rest." I silently hope we can stay long enough for my father to find me, but it's as if he reads my thoughts.

"It's a minor wound," he responds coldly. "I cleaned and dressed it while you were lost in dreamland. That was the entire point. Now get up and move." He takes his shirt on, his strong, muscular arms revealing. I quickly avert my gaze.

"Don't make me repeat myself, human." The way he spits out the word "human" is laced with disgust, but I hold my tongue. I still have no idea what he plans to do with me, and I'm not ready to push my luck just yet.

Once he leaves no trace of our presence, extinguishing the fire, I catch up to him, trailing behind at a cautious distance. My mind races with questions, mostly wondering where on earth he's taking me, especially since Aetheris lies in the opposite direction.

"Where are you taking me?" I finally ask, my curiosity getting the better of me as we leave deeper into the forest. The sharp ocean wind cuts through the air, sending shivers across my skin. He, however, seems completely unaffected, even in his sleeveless shirt.

He doesn't answer, so I continue walking silently behind him.

"You know, you can fly..." I suggest, annoyed by the silence.

"So your robots can track me down?" he replies with a cynical edge, clearly reading my thoughts.

Great, he's clever too... My frustration grows.

"Look, if we keep walking like this for hours, God knows where we'll end up. We'll die out here!" I stop in my tracks, pointing back toward the other side. "Aetheris is where we need to be. Everything we need is there." But he just glares at me, irritated. My eyes flicker to the silver gun tucked into his pocket-both hope and fear stir inside me. If I could just get my hands on it, I could escape.

"Can you at least give me a fucking answer for once?" I snap, losing my patience. In an instant, he closes the distance between us, towering over me with an intimidating presence.

"You don't get to ask questions. Do you understand?" His tone is cold, forcing me to take a step back, swallowing hard. "You'll follow me whether you like it or not. And I suggest you keep that filthy mouth of yours shut." With that, he turns his back on me once again, walking farther away from the only city I've ever known.

"Douchebag," I mutter under my breath, but I know better than to push him further. Instead, I silently follow, my only plan now fixated on one thing-getting that gun and using it to kill him.

We walk for what feels like hours, the only sounds being our breaths and the faint crashing of ocean waves growing more distant with each step. The silence between us is heavy, and I no longer bother asking questions. Finally, through the thick trees, a small wooden cabin appears, standing alone in the forest. I stop, staring in awe. I've never seen anything like it-so different from the sleek, white buildings of the city. This place feels... foreign.

Without hesitation, he continues toward it, so I follow. He approaches the cabin with caution, his eyes scanning the area as if searching for danger before pushing open the creaky door. The air inside is damp and stale, and the darkness is nearly suffocating. He enters first, moving with cautious confidence, and I follow close behind, unable to see a thing. That's when I bump right into him.

"S-sorry," I mutter in a low voice, but he ignores me completely.

As my eyes adjust to the dim light filtering through the cracks, the room starts to take shape. The moonlight helps me make out the outline of an old fireplace, a worn sofa in the middle of the room, and dusty shelves filled with books-real, physical books that I thought had long disappeared. There's another shelf holding what looks like a folded blanket. Excitement bubbles up inside me as I walk toward it, feeling his eyes on me the entire time, though he's turned toward the window, peering out into the night as if expecting something-or someone.

I grab the blanket and wrap it around myself, savoring the warmth.

"We'll stay here for the night," he says in a tone that makes it clear there's no room for argument. I nod and sit down on the old sofa, the blanket still draped around me.

He moves around the cabin with deliberate care, inspecting every corner before finally settling down on the opposite sofa. His gaze drifts to me, and for the first time, I see a flicker of fatigue in his eyes, as though his guard has momentarily dropped.

"Make no mistake," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. "Just because I fall asleep, doesn't mean I won't hear, see, or feel every move you make. Don't try me."

My plan to wait until he falls asleep and then steal the gun vanishes with that warning. I nod again, keeping quiet, and lie down on the sofa, pulling the blanket tighter around me. My mind is racing with thoughts of escape-of getting back to the city, back to my father-but exhaustion is pulling at me.

Just before sleep overtakes me, a fleeting thought of Zyrrel crosses my mind, and I wonder what he's doing now. But then, darkness pulls me under.