Immortals [ON HOLD]

Immortals

Dreams and nightmares are what my life is always like. Every waking moment is unpredictable. My life a long journey coming to an end. This one moment is both a nightmare and a dream. This moment is the deciding point in a fight against angels and fallen angels. If the champion for the fallen wins this dual, the fallen will be left alone and forgotten; they would become humans. If the angels win, the fallen will be slaughtered along with the nephilim they created.

It may be the end but there is always hope. That is why I fight. That is why I am the champion for the fallen. I wear the ancient amour that was a gift to me from the archangel Michael. When I was growing up, I was the last of my kind. The only nephilim on earth. My mother, daughter of Noah, gave birth to me with no knowledge of what I was. Eventually my family died and I had no knowledge of why I was still alive.

I wield the blade of darkness. A gift from a fallen angel who had gone to the dark side. It can only be matched, or fought equally against, the blade of truth and light. That blade is rare gift given only to great angels with great abilities and love. My focus turns back to the dual. I flip and turn only to be matched with even better turns. The other champion strikes. I pull the angel into a strong headlock and smell a minty aroma wafting off the angel's body. The sweat that was clinging to him wipes off on me. He wears a full body amour that is intricately engraved just like mine. There are, however, different symbols for different needs. Mine is for protection and I guess his is lighter and helps with agility as well as protection. We are both wearing helmets as warriors do. Mine to protect my identity and his to play fair. Before I know it he does a backflip in the air above me pulling off my helmet with him. I can tell that know one watching was expecting what they saw. Now they all knew why I wore the helmet. They now saw my white blonde locks fall down from my head. The face of a teenage girl that was slightly tanned, but not perfect and grey stormy eyes. The face of a girl who made you think a storm was coming. The face of Trina, descendent of Eve.

A power that is known by mortals, forbidden for angels is all that could tip the scales. The champion of angels pulled off his helmet revealing a full head of neatly cut chestnut hair. I met his eyes. I lay on the gravely floor of the arena. He could kill me any moment, I thought. My eyes met his and we stared. He raised his sword that was brimming with life. He looked at all the onlookers as I watched a silent tear fall down his cheek. I saw the archangel Michael fly down from above. The last thing I saw was the angelic boy fall on me, raise his sword and stab straight through both of our hearts.

*******AUTHORS NOTE***********

This chapter is dedicated to Katie M.

She inspired me to write this story, so she gets the dedication.

Thanks : )

Hope you guys enjoyed it.