A large gust of wind blew the windows wide open with a loud thud. Marina awoke, startled, her heart pounding as the bright moonlight painted her room in a sheen of eerie blue. She yawned softly, sitting up from her futon and glancing to her side. The futon next to her was empty, with blankets messily pulled off.
"Sebastian...?" Marina called softly amidst the sounds of open curtains flapping violently in the wind. Her eyes shifted to the window, its doors flung wide open. His clothes were scattered on the floor. Squinting, she noticed his black leather boots were missing.
"Sebastian, where are you, my love?" she called again, panic clawing at her throat. She pushed the sheets off, standing swiftly as she stumbled to the closet, yanking it open. A handful of clothes had messily toppled over. She shook her head, breaths coming faster. "No, no, no... He promised..." Her eyes darted to wooden chest in the corner of the room; crawling over, she threw it open.
Her trembling fingers reached in, tracing the empty chest. His daggers were gone, taken. Eyes darting up, his weapons stand was empty. Footsteps lined the wooden floor, as she followed them desperately, pulling the piles of clothes aside, desperately, until her hands plummeted against the windowsill, where the footstep trail ended.
"You promised you would never leave..." The wind whipped her hair into a frenzy, a long shadow cast behind her.
The days went by in a blur. Marina woke up every morning, faced with the photo of her mother next to a fallen photo frame beside it. She pulled on a new pair of clothes, each tailored to account for her large feathered angel wings, and poured some tea in a china cup. Leaning back on her wooden chair, she looked out at the overgrown garden of ivy vines and weeds. Sighing softly, she began cleaning up.
Pushing open the door, she walked towards her nurse's hut. Sitting there idly, she watched running children and parents, merchants and haggling in the marketplace across the street.
The next day, and the next, and the next, Marina poured her cup of tea and took a seat. She looked dully out at the bustling village. She raised her cup of tea to her lips and closed her eyes, breathing slowly...
The cup shattered, steaming tea spilling everywhere. Burning hot water tainted her skin red. "ARGH!" she shrieked and threw the handle to the side, a loud crash resounded. Chest heaving, her wide eyes brimmed with tears, the broken glass reflecting as blinding dots of light.
Her legs carried her, arms flinging the door open and running out. She ran, and ran, pushing past the bustling crowds, ignoring the indignant shouts and curses hurled her way. Lanterns swung in the breeze, casting flickering shadows on the cobblestone streets, shadows that seemed to reach out and grasp at her as she ran. Eventually reaching a forest, she continued running, gasping as she curled her angel wings shut. Her bare feet stomped through the grass, landing in glimmering turquoise waters, before splashing and wading through. Hair flipped back, she looked up at the lush canopy.
"He will never return," she whispered, "Never..."
She plummeted into the water, steam from her second degree burns from the tea had risen. Tears formed in her eyes. "Never, ever, ever. EVER!" she yelled out, clutching her head, which had begun to spin. Again. They always leave. Why do they always leave?
She fell silent, for a while, watching her fearful expression in the rippling water. It calmed her, listening to the splashing of the lake, the gentle shifting of leaves, the rustling of blades of grass. Eventually, the water became still, and...
The weeping angel was gone.
Marina picked up the opened letter left to her by her deceased mother. The angelic letterings that covered the page remained impossible to decipher. Sighing softly, she slipped it into her satchel and pushed open her oakwood door.
She traversed through the vast cleavages of rocky mountains, picturesque dandelion fields, pinetree forests laden with debris paths of splintering wood. Until she reached her destination...
The village of Stormfell, a place where murder was legal. It was unmistakable, with its famous massive world tree with branches that stretched and shadowed over the whole town.
YOU ARE READING
The Angel Fell Twice
FantasyThe fallen angel Marina moves to Stormfell, a town where murder is legal. She confronts their greatest killer: Ragnar the devil. He was a despised "monster" by the townsfolk, including Marina herself. Yet, as she delves deeper into his world, she un...
