Dark Angel: Book of Souls

The Child

Reapers. They bordered between Light and Dark. Reapers did whatever they pleased. Nowadays many would ally themselves with Demons, specifically the one after me. Samara explained their fundamentals, being patient to clear up my confusion. We were seated at the stone table inCicero’s private study

            “So basically we just entered a war with one of the most powerful demons to ever exist?” I blatantly inquired. Samara nodded and then met my gaze.

            “We’re waiting for my brother. When he gets here, there will be others. Some will come before him, some with him, and some after him. We each do something special, and my brother, he is one of the most powerful. Generally the lower leveled Reapers ally themselves with Demons, simply because if they are possessed they become more powerful. There are things you must do, and to win this war you need to acquire something first. With the help of your greatest allies, you will possess the Book of Souls.” Samara paused, and opened her mouth to speak once more. Her mouth snapped shut and her body jolted. The glowing silver eyes rolled backwards into her head and then the air stilled, temperature dropped, time stopped. “You must go back to the mortal realm. There you will find a baby born dead, but now alive. Take it, raise it, and welcome your new weapon to the dark abyss.” Samara’s eyes rolled back to show the silver irises still glowing. She stared at me. “What happened?”

            “You just gave me the first omen…” I felt my lips quiver at her lack of expression.

            “What did I say?”

            “Something about a baby we have to take….so we should do that then, right?” I murmured as I stood up, heading towards the doors.

            Fluffy, white, snowflakes were falling to the ground around me. Samara and I were standing under a fir tree across the street from my old house.

            “So what do I do just walk in and say hi and act like I didn’t just disappear for months?” I laughed out in hysterics. Samara stared at me.

            “Yes..? Why? Is that not acceptable?” She looked at me, confusion plastered in her expression.

            “Have you ever dealt with living humans before? Or even observed them?” I asked with a wide-eyed, opened-mouth expression.

            “No…”

            “Fine, we’ll see how this goes….”

            I marched across the street, stopping in front of the front porch. I took a deep breath before lifting my foot and listening to the deep thud as it hit the first step, followed by the echoes of each other step. I reached my arm out, slowly knocking against the door.

            It flew open, and there stood my adoptive mother, eyes wide, jaw at the floor. Behind her was the rest of my family, all wearing the same expression.

            “If it helps, I’m only here for my stuff.” I murmured then pushed through the crowd, and ran upstairs to my room. Nothing had been touched, I noticed as I examined the mess before me. I grabbed anything that seemed like it would be useful; a leather jacket, two knives, a lighter, and my favorite pair of boots, then ran back downstairs and out the door without even a gesture for goodbye.

            Samara was still standing under the fir tree when I busted out of the door and into the road. She was standing, hands on her hips, and tapping her foot. I rolled my eyes at her and laughed when she stuck her tongue out.

            “So, this is really all I should need from there. Can we leave now? I hate this place…” I whined and Samara nodded.

            We trudged along the icy road for an hour before reaching Samara’s oh so non-conspicuous hearse. I got into the passenger seat before the question popped into mind.

            “Hey Samara, is there an Angel of Death, like a Grim Reaper?” I bluntly asked.

            “Yes, actually. This hearse is a present from him.” She paused, turning her head to me. “He too has a name, and when you meet him I am sure he’ll love to tell you about himself. From what he’s heard, I think he likes you.”

            “You know the Grim Reaper…?” My mouth moved slowly with the pronunciation of each word. My eyes widened, bugging out of my head, then grew smaller into my scrutinizing gaze. I pursed my lips as Samara nodded and turned forward, as she started the car.

            Samara parked the hearse half a block away the target’s house. The snow was still falling, now sticking, and coating everything with soft white. I shuffled around the objects in my bag, taking a knife, a lighter, and removing my shoes.

            “What are you doing?” Samara sighed, pointing at my shoeless feet.

            “I work better without shoes. It’s easier to be stealthier and a lot quieter. It should only take me a couple of minutes, I promise.” I murmured, then silently exited the hearse and broke out in a run towards the house.

            I ran around to the side of the house and scrambled up the tree, finding a perch on the branch closest to the window. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in and slowly exhaling. The light had changed, and my vision had adapted- just another perk of being an Angel. I moved along the branch and started to carefully levitate myself. I put both hands on the window and pulled it outwards, opening it to me. I entered the room silently and the stench overwhelmed me.

            The scent of Death was faintly present in the air but it was mixed with a smell that was impurely sweet. There was a soft gurgling noise and the sound of bubbles popping. I crept closer towards the crib and peered inside to see the baby. She smiled at me, her pitch black eyes aglow with joy. I reached out to her, slowly lifting her, bringing her close to me and cradling her.

            “Hi there little one. Aw, aren’t you just precious. It’s okay now Sweetheart, you’re gonna come with me now, and its all gonna be okay.” I murmured, and the baby let out a giggle. I moved to the window and exited as silently as I had entered.

            As I reached Samara’s hearse, I noticed the silence around me. Looking down, I noticed the baby was asleep. Samara got out of the driver’s side and flitted around to my side, opened the door for me and closed it as well.

            “Are you sure it’s her?” Samara asked. I nodded.

            “Yeah, it’s her. I don’t think many babies are born with black eyes.” I responded, still looking at the tiny creature in my arms. I listened as Samara started the car, and then we drove off, heading back to the Sanctuary. Heading back home.