Zachareal

Chapter 1

Hey everyone, here's another chapter. Drop me tips for which actor would be best for which character. 

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Enjoy :)

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Chapter 1

Sahara hart. A beautiful name for a fitting beauty.

Zachareal understood beauty. A tool. Something that could be used to lure your prey. It could prove to be highly efficient if used in the right way, by the right person and on the right person.

Zachareal had it in spades, but never used it. Not on purpose. He didn't need to. He knew he was dangerous even without the looks, so why bother. And it certainly never worked on him.

But...

Zachareal turned away from the clear glass french window, settling his wings with a small movement of his shoulders,and faced the wrought iron bed that dominated the center of the room. A small bundle lay on the centre of the bed, wrapped in blankets.

Somehow it was not the bed that dominated the centre of the room anymore. It was the small slip of a woman lying on it that did.

All he could see of Sahara hart under the blankets was the cloud of red hair that fanned around her like a living flame. He didn't need to see the rest of her to remember exactly what she looked like.

It was imprinted on his mind like words etched on rock.

Soft creamy skin, pale, such pale crystalline eyes. He wondered if they merged with the white of her eyes or sparkled in the sun. And all that wondrous red hair. Curly, unruly locks that would be impossible to tame. She also had some tell-tale freckles of a red head.

Zachareal was a being of logic. Cold unprecedented logic. So Sahara Hart's continued intriguing nature was throwing him off.

When he'd first found out about her importance to the Angels up above he'd known he would ruthlessly hunt her down to get her before they did.

He didn't believe in fighting fair. No, he'd use every trick in and out of the book to get what he wanted. He wasn't a goody two shoes after all.

Being a Fallen had once filled him with anger. Rage at the unjust cause and the treacherous ways of old. But he'd moved past that. He'd realised being Fallen had it's own...perks.

Like shadowing Sahara Hart.

The Angels up in the Heavens weren't allowed to ever break the privacy of one's mind without permission. If done so, they fell from grace.

When his Spy master, Zorahail had informed him about the rise of a new Prophet, Zachareal had believed he'd finally get a chance to exact his long due revenge.

His plan had been simple. Grab the Prophet, make him talk. Get the info and them use him as a bargaining chip.

On finding out that the Prophet this time was a woman, had taken him by mild surprise. Very few women ever survived being The Prophet. Just like Darwin's theory, only the strong survived. Every few centuries a female Prophet would arise. Till now, none had been taken by the Fallen. This time, Zachareal had made sure would be different.

Sahara Hart stirred under the mass of blankets and then settled back down.

Zachareal wondered if this woman would be able to survive the life she was about to start here as The Prophet. She looked so slight, almost like glass. Everything about her was just so delicate, so...forgotten to him that it took him a while to find some scrap of pity in his old, dead heart.

If he ever had one.

He had been waiting for the time she would lift whatever spell that had been shielding her from him. No matter how hard he had tried, he'd never been able to locate her physical location. Not even by shadowing her mind.

And then last night he'd sensed her. Truly sensed her presence. He didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He had grabbed the falling woman and rendered her unconscious with one blow to her mind. He didn't know if she had fallen or if someone had pushed her or if she had voluntarily jumped.

He didn't care.

Now she wouldn't go anywhere. He'd get what he wanted from her one way or another.

The woman stirred under the blankets again but didn't settle back down. Instead her eyes opened and Zachareal was struck anew by the strangeness of the human's eyes.

He'd seen immortals with features that held even other immortals in a thrall but in a human, such traits were very very rare.

Her gasp was audible in the room, but apart from that she didn't make any other movements. Lifting herself on her arms she turned her body to him slowly, clearly sensing in the primitive part of her brain that he was a predator and she prey.

He didn't make any move to assure her that he wouldn't hurt her or so. A little fear was good. Moreover he wasn't sure he wouldn't.

He was an immortal with thousands of years cut on this earth. He didn't have compassion left. He didn't have any humanity left.

He wasn't human.

And now it was time to show her that.

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Let me know how you find it :)