A Slayer With Wings

Fourteen and a Half

(Evangeline Youngspire POV)

Why are demons always the same, acting buff and courageous, but only turning out to be pathetic and fragile, and turning vicious back yet again?

As soon as Orson fell, I knew that the demons have to be stopped. Gripping a knife, I swing at the girl that killed him. She doesn't even have to dodge, the blade passes right through her.

"Die!" I shout.

"That's cute," she smirks and picks up an axe. She hurls it at me, and I have to roll out of the way to duck.

"You killed one of my friends!" I shout, running at her in a rage.

"Oh. Didn't you like him?"

I ignore her and think of a way to kill her. She's immune to my blade. But I have an idea. I light a stray wooden club I found lying around, and brandish it at her.

The fire shifts in her direction, and she screams. My opponent is smoking. I smirk and throw, knocking the girl to the ground.

"Mmph," she complains.

"You killed Orson. You deserve this."

"He's not dead."

Caught by surprise, I turn to look at Orson, who lies out in the open with his eyes shut, and the girl strikes at me in one last attempt to bring me with her in death, while I'm distracted. I'm not going with her, though. She's going alone.

I dodge her axe, though I feel it brush through my hair, and counterattack by lighting a mace and beating her with it until she's dead.

It's oddly satisfying, but it's totally unladylike and it feels criminal. My eyes sweep the battlefield, and my eyes linger on several interesting thoughts, like an entire pack of Kevins fighting, and Trixie and Finch side by side.

I swear, the two are ending up married years later.

Then my eyes fall onto Orson. There's a cut on the side of his stomach, pretty deep, and his eyes are shut.

"Orson, can you hear me?" I ask desperately.

He doesn't answer, and I start to panic. I check for a pulse, and find a weak one. I try to do CPR, but end up with my hands covered in blood.

A demon with wings tries to attack me, but I quickly lodge a knife in its shoulder, and look back at Orson again. He can't be dead...right?

"Orson, please," I whisper in his ear as I strip off my coat, trying to bandage his cut. "Don't die."

"Youngspire, right?"

I whirl around to see a boy advancing on me, and a circle of blue deer surrounding me. He's in armour, and has a sword and wings. A fallen angel.

I grab a knife from my belt, which is almost empty.  "That's me. And don't come over," I growl, trying to sound fierce. "Or you'll end up sliced up like the loaf of bread I had for breakfast today!"

Surprisingly, the boy shoves his sword into the earth, leaving it sticking out. "Look, we don't want to fight. We just want to talk. You, with your god, and we, with our mascot."

"What god?" I'm confused.

"You don't know?" the boy seems confused.

"Tell me," I growl. "Before I pulverize you."

"The All-Father. He's God in disguise."

What the...?

"Anyway, you have God, and we have Satan. As we all know, one side, if not both sides, must win. Weakened, but victorious. But since the winning side would be weakened, the winning side, no matter which one, will be subjected to other attacks from enemies we'll never know of. It's better if we join forces together, and let Satan and  God rule in unity."

I'm speechless. It sounds too good to be true.

"No," I decide. "Evil has to be banished." I release a knife at him, but he ducks, and brings his sword down hard on my head.

As everything around me swirls around and fades, I feel a hand on my wrist. "Oh, and by the way, my name is Terrace Wilson, just in case you want to avenge your death in Hell."

That's the last thing I hear before everything becomes dark.