Nephilims Death

Chapter 5 Mac Who?

My eyes focused on the green moss that appended itself onto the tiny rocks and soil next to the stream of dark water. We haven't walked into any predators for hours which was strange. It was never this quiet. Deciding not to obsess over the matter, I looked around me at the tall trees that had tall endless top branches that reached up into the heavens like hands made of twine. It reminded me of a bunch of tormented sad people that were reaching up, crying out for help, wanting to be saved by those above us. I wondered why this place was created in the first place.

I understood the purpose of hell, and I also understood the purpose of heaven, but why would they create such a place filled with madness? This was not a place where spirits and souls could come to make peace with their deaths, and realise this was it and that they had to move on. No, this was a place that drove you to murder and insanity. This was like a mental asylum but only for souls.

God, I had to stop thinking so negative. I was making myself depressed and even crazier than this place made me. I remembered back in the beginning, back when I first came here. I was terrified, but I had to keep on reminding myself that the key to surviving was to keep moving. I constantly had to tell myself that I would be back on earth in no time, and that I would be gone for only a little while and I hoped that none of my friends will follow me, but I prayed that they would come and get me. I just ran from all of the souls, and kept on going, but they just followed me.

I hoped back then that no-one will come and find me, but now I knew that this was life and that they weren't going to come get me, or they didn't want to come get me. I deserved it because I screwed up bigtime. I missed the whole point of being a hero. I thought that the guy was supposed to save the girl on a white horse and that they would ride off into the sunset without flaw or imperfection, but I realized that if I wasn't going to be the hero of my own story then there was no point in even trying, and flaws was inevitable. This was my reality, and it has been for a while now, but one thing that I have learned was that I can't wake up and classify this as a bad dream, and I couldn't run anymore. I had to fight. I had to survive no matter who or what stood in my way. If I could only reach that third level and stop them from turning the world into a place filled with monsters.

To be honest, I was just a normal human being who got carried away, but now I was a ghost and I was fading at a fast pace, but that didn't mean that I was going to give up. I was determined to show the world that I am not the villain. All I ever wanted to do was help. But this was my chance. This was my chance to make a difference. I've always been the girl stuck in the shadows, who ran away from bullies and hid my hurt from the world. No, that was not me anymore.

It was going to be my time to show them all – from humans to the supernatural – what I was capable of without my powers. I could feel a sense of pride run through my heart when I thought about everything that I have accomplished. I killed two powerful Demons just by using my mind, I took down my own cousin who tried to destroy the world, I sacrificed my own life to come to Shadow City and stop Emelia from ruling everything, I murdered my way through vengeful spirits and I even started my own cult. Okay, so that wouldn't be something an average person would feel proud of but to me it was great accomplishments.

I just prayed that William would still be waiting for me. I knew Becky would, but she has probably moved on with her life by now. I hoped that she did. I didn't want to be the reason that she never achieved her goals. I wanted nothing but their happiness. I even wanted Zeke to have found his passion by now. God, I just hoped that he didn't get himself into any trouble – but I highly doubted that. I prayed that Em would forgive me for the death of Ridley, but I didn't expect it of him. I knew that he would somehow blame me for what happened, and I took full responsibility for what occurred that night. I didn't give a hell about my father. He had probably forgotten about me by now. I mean, he wasn't even there when I died, and I doubt he was there for my burial. As for my mother . . . well I just hoped that she was safe and that she was okay, and that selfish part of me wanted her to feel guilty about forgetting about her only daughter. Those were the people that I couldn't let down.