Bloody Thorns of the Angels

In the darkest hour of the summer night, there were a pair of people walking down the street. Onlookers had often stopped to admire their beauty, commenting on father and son pair, but they kept walking. The young boy appeared to be 7 years old. He had pale, white skin, a soft rounded face, fluffy blond-white hair and sapphire eyes, as bright as a diamond. He wore a long sleeved, white collared shirt and short black pants, upon which draped a small sleeveless black cloak; secured by a "X"-shaped cross and by a small hood of the same colour. On his feet he wore black boots which stretched to his kneecaps.

Quickening his pace, the young boy followed the larger footprints of his father – who could be mistaken as the boy's older brother, through his young appearance. The two held hands and the young boy's face lit up to be as bright as the sun, his father smiled back at him. The father's features were unknown in the bright, night sky since he wore a hooded coat which covered his head all the way until his feet. The only thing you could see was that silhouette leading the young boy up a hill towards an old mansion.

"We are here." a silky, male voice said.

Looking out from behind the tall figure, the young boy saw what his father was directing at. In front of the two was a pair of opened, golden gates which displayed a grand white pavilion surrounded by red rose bushes. It led towards the double doorway of a beige-coloured mansion, with black tiles on the roof.

The man before the 7-year-old suddenly disappeared and, before he could even react, a firm, one-handed grasp came from behind his neck and the boy blacked out.

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Waking up, the boy was in a dark empty room, only illuminated by a light from the cracks within the doorway. Like angels singing, wishing to calm the young boy whose thoughts were now muddled, peaceful yet frosty music suddenly commenced in the background. Where was he? Why is it so dark? Yet his memories were untraceable. He only knew his name, Mikaela. looking around Mikaela started to grasp the objects near him. By doing so, he had fallen off the bed he was sitting on. Stumbling towards the door, he followed the music.

Surrounded by white pillars decorated with gold, the centre held a traditionally designed stadium like the ones built in Ancient Greece. The music stringed in the background as the seats were filled with people in white hoods and cloaks. Suddenly, he spotted a man with lilac hair fastened into a long ponytail which swished behind him. His face was quite beautiful, as handsome wasn't the right word, with sharp features artfully arranged on a slim face; the beauty only marred by the devious smirk on his face.

"So, this is Mika?"

Mikaela turned his head towards the figure the man spoke to. The person's appearance alarmed him, it was surprisingly familiar, yet also seemed other-worldly. There stood a man with long, braided ash hair and a laurel wreath on his head. His crimson eyes shone like rubies. Out of his back sprung majestic white-feathered wings.

"I see you have finally awoken, my dear son." his sly voice called.

"It is time to begin, My Lord." the lilac-silver haired male reprimanded.

As if on cue, crimson rose vines burst out of the floor destroying the paved white tiles - wrapping themselves around Mikaela's arms, legs and torso. Thorns began to dig into the soft, delicate flesh of the child, causing high-pitched shrieks of pain.

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Awoken by a nightmare, girl adorning two pink pigtails, fell off her bed. It was 3am, and everyone in the orphanage was asleep. There was a song coming from the old mansion in the distance. She was confused, never in her past 2 years of living at the orphanage had she seen any sign of life within that area. Overtaken by her curiosity, she slipped on a black cloak over her nightgown and gently woke her older brother up.

The two snuck out of the orphanage and headed towards the mansion, following the mysterious music and entered a room past the hallway. There, in the middle of the room, was a young boy, covered in blood, surrounded by rose vines and grasping the sides of his head. A scream emerged from his small lips and out of his back burst out white-feathered wings. He fell limp and was caught by the other male who appeared to be his father.

"Mika didn't last very long under pressure." the lilac haired person mentioned, "Well, it's not disappointing either, seeing that he had spent his life suppressed as a human."

A whimper came from the young girl's mouth and her older brother immediately covered it. Turning around, all eyes directed towards the siblings.

"Seems like we have visitors. Isn't that right, First Progenitor?" the man spoke again, with a slightly amused smile.

The male who was referred to as a father, a Lord and now the First Progenitor spoke.

"Indeed."