The Ordinary Dead

The Nephilim Girl

As soon as they arrived back at Kyran's apartment, Ciara slept for a full twelve hours. Kyran  stayed awake the whole time, waiting for her to wake up in case she might need anything. After the ordeal, the wound had been stitched up, and had begun to heal nicely. It also healed a lot faster than expected, thanks to her Nephilim blood.

Ciara was Nephilim, as well as one of the Ordinary Dead. This meant that she was part angel, as much as Kyran was part demon. Being Nephilim meant that Ciara would heal quickly, be faster and more agile than humans, as well as stronger. She would also have a longer lifespan than humans and would be hated by demons.

  However, she was also one of the Ordinary Dead. If she was meant to have died at some point in her life, surely she would remember a moment where that almost happened? Or was the event too early in her life? Had her memory not developed enough? Or... Had it been wiped from her memory entirely?

 Of course, these were just some of the many possibilities flying through Kyran's head. He also had the fear of his father coming back to find him, and getting hold of Ciara in order to finish what he started.

 What had the dream meant? Was it a warning that something bad was going to happen to Ciara? Or was it just an unnerving nightmare?

 Kyran was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Ciara stepping out of his bed. She yawned loudly, and began to make her way through the hallway and into the living room, where Kyran lay. He wore a bandage around his wrist the same way Ciara did around her throat, and a plain black t-shirt and black jeans, as normal. Ciara was wrapped up warmly in her newly-bought pink and grey striped pyjamas as she stretched her arms up.

"Good morning." Ciara finished stretching, and put her hands down again.

"Good morning." Kyran bit his lip.

"How's your arm?"

"It's doing well." He looked down at his arm for a moment, and then back up to Ciara. "Your throat?"

"Sore, but the doctors say it's healing well." She stopped talking, and sat down on the sofa next to Kyran. "Did they tell you?"

"About what?"

"Me being... inhuman?"

"Oh." Kyran dropped his head down. "Yeah, they did. Did they tell you what it means to be Nephilim?"

"I'm part angel," she said, biting her lip. "Is that why I never knew my father?"

"I-I'd assume so..."

 Ciara pressed her head against Kyran's chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, and feel how his body moved with every breath.

 "My mother used to tell me stories about my father." She took a deep breath in. "She told me that he was the most beautiful man she'd ever met. She said he had white hair and pale skin, and a hard nose and eyes that could make you melt like butter in a frying pan."

She kept talking, repeating every word as if it were a passage she'd read over and over again. "She said he used to read me stories when I was young, and say that I was his little angel. He said I was the most beautiful little girl he'd ever seen. She said he'd read me stories and stay up with me all night if I was ill, and if he heard me so much as cough he'd bolt straight out of bed to make sure I was okay."

"Ciara..." Kyran noticed that she had started to cry, wetting his shirt.

"Where's my daddy?" she cried, grabbing fists full of the shirt. "Where is he?"

Kyran stroked her hair, putting his free arm around her. "Shh." He tried to calm Ciara down. "It's okay, Ciara. I know what happened. Calm down, you don't need to cry."