Born of Death (Editing)

35. Scream

People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death.

-Jim Morrison

He smiled, others thought it was angelic but he knew better. It was a smile full of malevolence. The idea of having a counterpart strong enough to control the zezura center within the welkin sent elation flooding through his veins. Keeping his eyes blank, he listened to the general of the angelic brigade rattle of a report. The fluctuations in mortalia and faerie alerted the others and now they would convene for a meeting soon. It was only a minor hiccup in his plans.

"You're dismissed."

Getting up from the elaborate throne chair, his wings unfurled and his eyes glittered calculating as he made his next plan of action. His eyes flickered past the white ornate columns landing on the arch window. The rich golden light of the zezura reached him and his eyes fluttered shut as he imagined being its source. The welkin's high-court sorely lacked power if they were negotiating with darklings. Thus, he spent time in the lab creating his own light-based creatures. He started out slowly with just an angel and couldn't help the pride busting from him when he gained his feathers to reach the state of an archangel.

"Yes," he said feeling the presence of another. It always fascinated him how this form could cloak itself in shadow and yet enter heaven's prairie with no difficulty. It was such an interesting ability that he kept it a secret. He desired to unravel all her secrets, even the strange link she claimed to sense from him. Sera couldn't dispute it because he felt a connection, however, it came second to gaining his idea counterpart. The zezura center would be his.

***

Rosalinda's eyes flickered around her as sparks of electricity filled the air while thundered echoed around them. If Aser thought she was going to let him gain the upper hand he was foolish. Thrusting herself forward, she cloaked her body in energy hoping to crush and overwhelm him with her power. Surprising her, he stepped off toward the right bringing his elbow down striking her in the spine.

Spittle flew out of her mouth her face smacking the dark hand-scrapped floors. It felt like she chipped a tooth. She nudged the sore bone with her tongue, her fury sky-rocketing. Holding onto her rage and the power roaring through her veins, she used her energy to slap him aside grinning as his body flew through the drywall. Rosalinda shifted to her knees groaning as her back cracked the bones realigning. Ugh, Cyriac's father was no pushover. Standing slowly, her eyes flickered over to the crumbled drywall. She frowned when she didn't see his body lying among the debris. Had she buried him?

"Over here!" he shouted appearing behind her.

She had no time to react. Aser's hands latched onto her face. Her head sat nestled between his hands and she screamed when his intentions became clear. The sound rippled across the space causing the walls to crumble around them. A loud crack reverberated around them cutting off her screams and Rosalinda's body crumpled to the ground with her neck snapped in two. How could this be? She was created from pain, chaos and fear. A red haze settled over her eyes, and Aser's conversation with the other two vampires faded as her body sank into the shadows. Her mind blanked and she let her magic, her instincts take over.

"Hee, hee, hee," she cackled. "I'm going to kill you," she singsonged cloaked in shadows. Towering over the three men she grinned malevolently as the light bulbs burst engulfing the house in darkness. Not did it matter with their infrared vision kicking into high gear. She rose high above them like the moon overlooking the crisp night and bellowed.