Death Has Wings

Summary

Death chuckled. "No-one yet. I'm putting you in here so you can figure everything out. It's part of your training. You need to be able to get your own life sorted before you mess up other people's." He produced a notepad and a pen from his pocket. He handed them to me. "Unlimited ink and unlimited pages. Take as long as you need, there's no rush. Time is stopped in here so when you come out, you would've only been gone for a few minutes." I nodded and he left me alone, door locked, with nothing but pen and paper.

I sighed. I didn't know where to start. So many things had happened in my life so far. I decided to jot down the first things that I could remember.

Age Three: Grandma Mae tells me about demons.

Age Four: Demons appear in the night, slowly start appearing the day.

Ages 4-9: I imitate the demons.

Age Six: Lilith is born.

Age Eight: Christmas incident/Mother takes me to therapist.

Age Nine: Lilith is drowned/Father leaves.

Age Ten: Mother remarries.

Ages 10-16: John beats me.

Two Months Ago: Grandma Mae commits suicide.

Two Weeks Ago: Told by Lucifer that I was an Angel of Death/Met Alexandria.

Nine Days Ago: John leaves/Mother dies from possession/Visions start.

I couldn't figure out what had happened since then, it was all a blur. It went so fast that my brain didn't register it. Until then. Tears pricked my eyes, threatening to fall. I couldn't cry, not even after realising that everything that had happened had happened for a reason. A sick, twisted reason. It wasn't my fault, I didn't choose to become what I am, Satan did. The clues were there. The Satanic Bible, the thoughts I had been having. The urge to kill. That urge was the strongest of them all. It consumed me at night, tearing me away from reality by making me picture ripping the throat out of a passer by.

Tears fell. They weren't tears of sorrow or anger. They were tears of fear. I didn't want to know what I would become, but I had to. I had to become a murderer. I'll admit that the way I thought back then was more violent than most teenagers, but it never occurred to me that they would mean something. I was scared that I'd do something wrong and end up hurting an innocent person. I didn't want to pointlessly shed blood. I didn't want to become even more of a monster than I already had to be.

I looked down at the paper with watery eyes. I had written it all down. Every single thought. I didn't even remember doing it. I wiped the tears away and sighed, forcing the emotions to the back of my mind. I was getting pretty good at that. I sniffed and looked around me. The walls were no longer there. They were replaced by a park. The park behind my house when I was little. Underneath me, the grass was luscious and green, giving off a pleasant smell. I heard children's laughter behind me. I turned around to see Lilith, me, mother and father playing on the swings. I remember that day like it was an hour ago.

I was seven and Lilith was one. There was an old park behind our house and I had begged mother and father to take me there since I was five. It seemed to draw me in with it's old-time allure. They finally took me on mine and Lilith's birthday. I had ran to the swings and persuaded father to push me. It was great fun, feeling the wind through my hair, the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Higher and higher, my father would push me, making my smile grow bigger.

I had grown bored of the swings quickly and had sat on the bench near the slide. Mother and father were distracted by Lilith so I decided to explore. There was a patch of trees at the north edge of the park and I was curious as to what it contained. I trotted over there, the excitement almost killing me. I glimpsed a split second of silver in my perrif...perphir...in the edge of my vision. I spun around to see the barrel of a gun pointed at my head. I screamed and started to run, regretting my choice instantly. I should've never gone to those woods.

I ran to mother, crying and screaming, clutching at her clothes. I couldn't speak from fear. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Mother bent down and tried to calm me. It didn't work that well.

"Where's daddy? I want daddy! Mummy where's daddy gone? Did the man get him? Is daddy dead? Daddy's dead, isn't he mummy?" I couldn't control my speech. It all seemed to blur together into one big word. Mother held me tight and spoke softly.

"Daddy's back at the house with Lilith. He had to change her." She pushed me away a little and held my shoulders. "Why did you think daddy was dead? What man?" I sobbed into her shoulder.

"The man near the woods...he had a gun." I managed to choke out the words. Mother tensed as she took out her phone. Her voice was muffled but I made out the words 'police' and 'gun'. I was scared. So scared. I didn't want the man to come and kill mother. I would gladly take a bullet for my mother, even father. But most of all...for Lilith. She was my only sister. I realise now that I loved her. Just like a big brother should.

The police arrived within two minutes and began searching for the man. One lady came up to me and started to ask me questions.

"Hello. I'm Officer Keatley. Just call me Hannah. What's your name?" She was bent down and staring into my eyes. I felt uncomfortable without mother near me.

"Clark."

She smiled. "Okay, Clark. What can you tell me about the man?" She flipped open her notepad and got out a pen. I sighed.

"He was tall and he had black hair. I didn't see his face because he was wearing a mask. The gun he was holding was a .45 mm pistol." I instantly felt embarrassed. Hannah wrote down everything I said, making sure to make eye contact with me every few seconds.

"You sure know a lot about guns."

I started to walk off. I didn't want to answer any more questions. I just wanted to go home.

The truth is that Grandpa Mitchell had taught me all I know about guns. I'm grateful, to be honest. As I looked at the memory unfolding before me, I could finally see who the man was. He had been the bane of my life for six years.

It was John.