Evangeline

Chapter 13

~Evangeline~

The room felt cold and dry, with a strong, pungent smell of decay. I rubbed my arms to keep warm stepping over several books to get to the letter, resting quietly on the night table. I snatched it quickly and turned to leave. As I left, I looked down at the book titles. One was "The Angels of Hell" and another was "Theodynis, the killer of the Spawn. All of the books related to Hell and Theodynis. What did this mean?, I wondered. I turned around and saw a torn notebook resting by the laptop, on the bed. It was ripped, black blood stains spattered on the cover. I crept toward it and picked it up. The first page read, in messy red ink:

I'm not Theodynis. I will never be. The past is a lie.

Throughout the rest of the notebook, those 3 sentences were written on every page. Nothing was different. Same red ink, same calligraphic writing style, same shaky penmanship.

"How strange." I muttered, tossing it aside. I maneuvered through a forest of book shelves, to a small desk that sat in the corner. There was a strange hat sitting atop of it, a clutter of papers surrounding it. I picked through the monstrous pile, taking note that all of the documents were also related to Theodynis. What kind of person would be obsessed over a freaking angel, I pondered.

I picked up the blue, top hat, smiling at myself in a cracked mirror in the bathroom. On my left, lied a silver knife. It wasn't bloody, but instead, had specks of dirt on the blade. I looked around the room. Despite the messiness of the bedroom, there were no plants inside.

"Where did the dirt come from?" I asked myself. I emerged from the bathroom and sat on the bed. Heavy footsteps pounded on the floor of the apartment. I heard my name being shouted.

Mark was home.

Shit.

Frantically, I searched for a place to hide. I found a cupboard near the bed and quickly got in. I shut the door, just in time, as Mark entered the room. He slammed the bedroom door shut, preventing me from escaping. I peered through a crack in between the cupboard doors waiting to see what Mark would do. He flexed his wrist and a spray of water splashed against the wall. I inhaled quietly, more shocked than ever.

"Where did he get those powers?" I whispered. I covered my mouth, realizing my mistake. He turned to face the cupboard. He held out his hand once more and an ocean wave, flowed from his palms, splashing onto it. Some water came in soaking my shirt and hair. I bit back a cough. Mark looked at the cupboard with a glint of anger in his eye. He released water again from his fingers again. The water hit with such exertion that I was thrust backwards, along with the cupboard, slamming hard against the the wall. It fell forwards and landed with a crash. My head smacked hard against the floor. I felt a thick liquid forming in my palms and my head. I cringed, for I knew what it was.

Blood. Angels blood.

I was bleeding.

Mark's footsteps, stomped towards me. I bit my lip as he lifted the broken cupboard. He stared down at my curled body, with disappointment, and hatred.

"How could you?" He snarled.

How

Could

You?