A special girl. A girl who hasn't seen her own face in ten years. The girl in the Mask.
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The sons of some of the most powerful beings:
Son of Cupid
Son of the Devil
And son of Death himself
Put them together in a high school with the...
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His wings stretched behind him, Anteros positioned himself to shoot his next victims. A green-eyed girl whose cheeks gave off a rosy glow, her unruly locks of red hair bouncing cheerfully in the wind, a cup of hot chocolate tightly clasped in her left hand.
His hawkish eyes never strayed off her as he waited for the perfect moment. His grip tightened on his bow as he reached back for an arrow. The sound of the arrow sliding into place familiar. He pulled back on the bowstring mindlessly.
"Vlastós," he whispered, letting go. He watched the arrow split in half before it followed his command and chased the girl, swiftly dodging anything in its path until it finally hit its target.
The girl's eyes slightly widened for a second at the light prick, her drink fell out of her hand. She felt around her back until her hands caught on something.
When she pulled it out to find a dissolving arrow her already wide eyes became wider. Her breathing became heavy, eyes misty and confused. Don't panic, she told herself, failing terribly.
And then her face went slack, body freezing up. Anteros watched as time re-winded itself around her, the spilled drink went back into her hand, untouched.
She stayed in her position, unable to move, unable to think. She slowly unfroze as everything went back to how it was, unable to remember a thing about the arrow anymore.
The other arrow hit a boy she'd known her whole life but never spoken to. She didn't see him coming her way.
A gasp escaped her lips when they bumped into each other, she somehow managed not to drop the hot chocolate.
The girl sighed in frustration, ready to scold the person who bumped into her but her words caught in her throat as she scanned his face. Both of their eyes widened.
Anteros turned and smiled, pleased with himself. It was only a matter of time before the world had another happy couple. He had gotten his job for the day, finished. And for that, Anteros was proud. His next words were carried along in the wind in a faint whisper.
"Mission accomplished."
Stepping back, he ran as fast as he could to the ledge of the building. He jumped, free-falling for a moment before his wings caught the wind and he flew. Amor would be happy to know that the job was done.
*****
The hot white flames crackled, a kaleidoscope of white, blue, and orange; bright yet dark, literally and figuratively speaking.
It could've looked beautiful if it wasn't so harsh and destructive, the flames carrying regret and the stagnant smell of fear.
Screams of agony echoed in every direction. It didn't faze Cerbeius, after all, he was the heir to the devil's throne and the flames didn't do much to him besides tickle his skin.
