An angelic halfling, thrown into a brutal war - not her own. Can she survive, can humanity?
Angels or Hellion, Sky hates them both, hell, she even hates half-breeds like herself. She has only known this war, waging long before her birth. Because of...
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★。＼｜／。★
"Hello," he said as I took another step back. Power seemed to bleed out of him, sending shocks of burning heat down my spine. An alarm thanks to the halfling side of me. "Aren't you interesting?" His voice was smooth like silk.
With him now standing before me I could better take him in. He towered over me. They were always so tall, so strong. Pure strength simmered beneath his skin, lethal. With a predatory stillness, his eyes watched mine as if searching for something. The only movement was the rainwater falling off of him. It moved through his wet hair, dripping off of his brow, running over the bridge of his nose, over his lips. He didn't seem bothered by any of it, certainly not the human standing before him.
Fear flooded through me, pressing against my ribs, making it difficult to draw a full breath. My jaw locked in place, teeth clenched.
He was a predator, confident in his strength and my lack of it. I hated him for it, for the comfort he lived in while we lived in a near-constant state of uncertainty.
Anger met with fear in a delicate balance. It was a tightrope within my mind. On one side was to fight, on the other to flee. Grounding my core, I stood on the edge of the mental rope. The decision to fight or to run would be my own. With the strength simmering within the Seraph, I angled myself towards a fight for no one could hope to easily escape something like him.
Why wasn't he trying to capture me, to drag me away? Was he waiting for his friends to join him? I didn't understand. Normally, they were quick and efficient in their capture of humans. It was perhaps the only mercy we had. There was never any teasing of potential freedom.
I had to get some distance from the Seraph. Even with the slightly heightened senses thanks to what I was, one of them was a lot for even me to handle. If more of them came, then my already slim chance of freedom would turn to none.
Without a response to the Seraph's words, I tossed my bow to the side. It was easier to move without it strung up across my back. Despite that logic, my heart sank just a little. I loved that bow.
Angry hatred burned in my gut as my knees bent, and I prepared to move.
Refusing to take my eyes off of him, I lunged. Grabbing the knife from my belt, I swung at him like a savage. He would have expected me to run- that was what most humans did when meeting a Seraph face to face- so I fought instead.
He moved quickly, fluidly grasping my wrist and stopping my arm in mid-air. Instantly I reacted by bringing up my free hand, hitting him square in the throat. For a moment, he actually seemed stunned that someone like me could lay even a finger on him. The window of surprise was likely not going to come again. I had to make the most of it. Raising my leg, I attempted to kick him, water dripping from every part of me.
