Drying her tear-stained eyes with a shaky hand, Belle sat up, realizing she was no longer on the floor but in a bed. Adjusting herself, she muttered, "At least the cryptic ol' cunt gave me a bed," rubbing her head, still feeling the lingering effects of Tori's spell. She glanced down at the black blanket wrapped around her and then at the soft light casting a glowing circle-shaped shadow over her. Tilting her head back, her breath hitched as her gaze landed on the bright yellow halo hovering above her. Its light was akin to a glowing bulb.
"So, that dream really was true... That was—Ma. And I'm half-angel..." she whispered, her voice trailing off as the weight of her revelation sank in.
Pushing the thoughts aside, Belle swung her legs off the red-and-black twin bed, her socked feet landing softly on the polished hardwood floor.
Standing up, a chill breeze brushed against her bare arms, making her shiver. "Shite, do these night folk ever get frosty? Where's me jacket?" she grumbled, hugging herself, again regretting wearing just a V-neck tank top at the moment.
Her eyes swept the room as she searched for her belongings, momentarily distracted by the spotless and ancient aesthetic surrounding her.
The small, windowless room was dimly lit by a modest crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling, its flickering candlelight casted a soft, ethereal glow. The walls were a deep crimson, glossy as though freshly polished, with dark wainscoting running along their lower half. The polished black hardwood floor reflected the faint light, mirroring Belle's figure and the glowing halo above her head. The sparse furnishings consisted of her bed, a narrow black writing desk across the room, and nothing else.
Squinting at the desk, Belle instinctively patted her face. "Of course, me glasses." She shuffled over to the desk, squinting through the dim light to spot her bomber jacket neatly folded, her duffel bag sitting beside it, and her low-cut brown boots resting on the floor. "Well, everything seems to be here, thankfully," she muttered, grabbing her glasses and slipping them on. The world finally snapping into a clear focus.
Pulling on her forest-green jacket and lacing up her boots, she reached for her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. Turning toward the tall, heavy oak door to her left, she muttered, "That must be the way out."
As her hand stretched toward the doorknob, a sudden explosion blasted the door off its hinges. Reacting on instinct, Belle leapt back just in time to avoid the impact.
The door crashed to the ground, and on top of it lay a scratched up Rex, struggling against two massive humanoid wolves. Veins bulged under their hairy, muscular forms as their sharp claws swiped at him. Rex, holding a long metal staff wedged into the jaws of one werewolf, growling angrily, "Yo, Ms. Belle—a little help, please!"
The creatures thrashed violently, their drooling mouths chomping down on the staff as Rex braced himself against their sheer strength. Each wore a militaristic black-and-white uniform with a silver Milky Way emblem pinned to its chest. Belle froze, her mind racing.
"Oh Feck," she whispered, her sapphire eyes darting from the wolves to the emblem. "An actual werewolf... And that emblem—I've seen it before."
The wolves snapped and growled, their claws shredding the floor beneath them. Rex gritted his teeth, his knuckles an ashy white as he strained against their relentless assault.
"Any time now, Ms. Belle!" Rex called again; his voice strained.
"Right!" Belle snapped out of her daze, gripping her duffel bag tightly. "Let's see if these mutts can handle this."
YOU ARE READING
Starry Eyed Fighters
FantasíaBelle grew up with a relatively normal life in Ireland, raised by her grandparents who nurtured her into adulthood. However, after learning the truth about her real parents following her college graduation, her world shifted. The mystery of her pare...
