True Confessions of the Angel of Death

A Familiar Darkness

Over the next few weeks, Ivy and Gabriel had come to view Xavier as one of our own. I still kept an eye on them, riding home with them in Xavier's car most days unless I had work to do. Molly had convinced me to hang out with them occasionally with the condition that Maghen be included. We sat with them at break occasionally but we kept our lunch period to ourselves. They all seemed hyper focused on the upcoming dance, constantly asking what they would where, who they wanted to take them, how they would do their make up and hair.

I wasn't planning on going, so I tended to zone out when they got on this subject but it soon had a sense of familiarity that was almost comforting. Little did I know, that soon familiarity would come as a terrible omen. It happened in Ms. Castle's literature class one afternoon. Beth had been late, spending time with Xavier no doubt. When she came in, we'd been talking about a project we'd been doing.

"I've decided to allocate you all a creative writing task with a partner. Together you'll need to come up with a poem to read to the class on the subject of love, to preface our upcoming study of the great Romantic poets, Wordsworth, Shelley, Keats, and Byron. Does anyone have a poem they'd like to share before we start?"

"I do." Said a smooth British voice from the back of the room. I found it odd since out of the 12 of us in the class, no one was British. It must have been the new guy I'd heard people talking about.

"Thank you, Jake!" Ms. Castle smiled brightly, "Would you like to come up and recite it?"

"Certainly."

He swaggered to the front of the room, scanning the class with piercing jade green eyes. He was tall, about Gabriel's height give or take a few inches, and lean. He had black hair that just brushed his shoulders. His face, though mortal, was undeniably beautiful, sharp cheek bones, low set brows, and a straight nose that drooped slightly. His lips though were curled into a sneer, as if he though he was better than us.

He didn't wear the uniform, instead opting for dark jeans and a black shirt and I wondered how he had gotten away with that. A tattoo of a serpent was wound his arm. There was something eerily familiar about him though, though I couldn't place him. I was almost sure I'd seen his face before, but I couldn't remember when or if ever it had happened. His gazed finally stopped on mine and lingered them, sending a a small, smirk like smile.

"'Annabel Lee,' a ballad by Edgar Allan Poe. It may interest you to know that Poe married his thirteen year old cousin, Virginia, when he was twenty seven. She died two years later from TB." His voice filled the room, demanding attention. it was confident, if not a little conceited. He had the aura of someone who always got his was and expected nothing less, no matter the situation he was in.

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling