Armed and Ready -Dominion FF ON HOLD

Chapter 11

After a day of organisation and preperation, Noma suggested I receive a good nights sleep. So, after a few awkward hugs and farewells, Alex, Noma and I returned to our homes. In my case, Michael's home.

A wave of familiarity hit me as I entered his bedroom, the bed still the same tangle of sheets and pillows. The curtains swayed peacfully in synchronized harmony with the wind that blew briskly from the lookout. I sobbed silently and rushed to untie the shoes bound to my feet. The irregular room was vacant and unaccompanied by the presence of it's owner. My stomach turned.

It was strange to lay in Michaels bed that night. The constant reminder that his tormented soul was being held prisoner made me feel ill. If only I hadn't have pulled the trigger, I thought to myself pityfully. If only I had died that night.

After what seemed like hours of suffocating and drowning in my own tears and pain, I fell asleep.

I stood lonesome in a garden of beauty. Flowers and trees surrounded me, each leaf and petal glowing fascinatingly in the midnight moonlight. A statue stood proudly behind me, swallowed by vegetation and decay. I turned curiously and stared. A man, with broken wings and an iron sword, made of stone stared down at me. His eyes were as black as burnt coal, as was what remained of his corrupted wings. His face was creased with delight, the ghost of a smile plastered destructively upon his face. He seemed familiar, yet unrecognisable. I knew him, I thought to myself.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

I flinched and spun around, raising my hands protectively over my face in tight fists, ready to fight. The man leaned gracefully against a tree with an apple clenched in his palm. He was smiling. "No need for that, love. I don't mean any harm." He raised his hands innocently, his voice laced with sarcasm. I didn't reply. I was speechless.

"Built by the demons of hell in honour of their master. You see here," He explained formily as he stalked towards the statue and pointed to the plaque underneath the stone man. I examined it for a moment, then nodded. "It's Romanian." I stated sharply. He turned to me admirably and continued, "It reads, 'luceafărul de dimineață. îngerul căzut. salvatorul nostru.' I find it quite charming, really." He said wistfully. I continued to stand behind him awkwardly. He glanced over at me and grinned. "Do you speak Romanian, Kat?"

Placing both hands behind his back, he circled the statue honorably. His words echoed in my mind. Kat. No one ever called me Kat except...

He eyed me curiously as I replied, "Damien? My brother. Is-" I choked on my words. "Is that you?"

Damien chuckled. "If I were to be your brother, Gabriel would be my father. My real father abandoned me. Banished me from heaven." He spat his words venomously.

"But- you were with me my entire life. You- you were my brother." I whispered.

He looked at me amusingly. "I am not your brother, Kat. But I have been with you, watching over you. Protecting you. Waiting for the day that the truth can be told." He laid his hand on my shoulder, his eyes gleaming with thoughtful admiration. I avoided looking at him, at the man who pretended to love me.

"I saw you die." I cried. "I watched you die!"

He pulled me closer to him, his arms covering me in a shell of warmth. He stroked my dark hair slowly. "Indeed, my vessel was destroyed that night. But my essence has stayed intaked. Now, all I need is another vessel. An angel of the Lord."

I looked up at him confusingly. "You need an angel as a vessel?"

"Not just any angel." He smirked menacingly. "An archangel."