Heaven's Dragon

It has been 6 months since I killed Cameron.
My Cameron.
My love, my life.
Why did I kill her?
I don't know.

I pace across the cold floor of this cave. I've been living in here for the past five months, three weeks. I hate it in here.

My family calls me a hero. I don't feel like a hero. I feel like a villain. I feel evil.

As soon as I drove the knife into her heart, and the last breath escaped her lips, the entire world grew brighter. Every dark beast died the moment she did, as in every corrupt world leader, every most wanted criminal, every rotten landlord. We blend in awfully well among you humans.

My people, the light (though I have begun to question what the difference is between light and dark) busted ass to cover it up. We succeeded. It didn't take much. Everyone is happy. There is much less crime, less hatred, without the dark influencing the humans.

Every world is so much brighter.

Except mine.

After I killed her, I held her to my chest. I cried. For hours. I cried. Over her. My love. My life. My everything. I had been in love with her for so long, and yet I killed her. Why?

Honor. Duty. Sacrifice.

I hate myself. I hate my honor. I hate my duty. I hate sacrifice. I hate being a hero. I never wanted to be the hero.

I feel my legs give out from under me. I'm not surprised by this. It always happens when I think about it. Think about her. I feel the cold stone hit my face. I let myself lie there, picturing her.

That dark olive skin, her mysterious eyes, that black silk hair. Even when she was a beast, she was beautiful. She had the longest fangs I had ever seen. She was mostly vampire with a bit of werewolf, for sure. The tail was probably on account of devil. At any rate, she is beautiful.

Was. Not is. Was.

Though how I wish it was an is.

I slowly get up, my wings fanning out to help me regain my balance. I've stopped trying to keep myself in human form. It's not worth it. No one will see me out here.

My feet drag to the threshold, where the aura still glows around my cave. I remember when Cameron came out here, it nearly killed her. All that light. It was just too much for her to take on.

I stomp over the overgrown grass, and to a small stone which has her name, then two simple words printed on it.

Cameron White
My Love

I carved into it with my claws the night that I killed her. Her body rests beneath it. Her beautiful body. Still in beast form. Cute little horns and all.

I want her back. I want her here. In my arms. With me.

I crouch low, and brush my fingers along where I think her forehead would be, where I could brush the hair out of her eyes. I then jump upwards, springing into the sky as my wings pick me up. I jet above the treetops, into the clouds in seconds.

I soar higher, father. I am a rocket. I am a shooting star. I am flying towards the heavens. I am flying to where Cameron is.