CHAPTER THIRTEEN

872 15 3
                                    

Of Men and Angels

Of Men and Angels

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

𓂃✩𓂃

Elara sat with her back leaning against the headboard of the bed, gazing at the words that were written on the photograph. The words 'Warrior Princess' Stood out to her the most, especially with the upcoming war against Valentine falling upon them rather quickly. The girl knew the day it came she would be ready to fight, to fight for her new friends, The angelic boy she had grown to appreciate and adore and finally her family. Clary and Simon had been by her side since the beginning of her mundane life and now to her Shadowhunter life, they were her family.

Elara sighed as she gingerly reached into the box beside her, plucking out a picture of Cheryl Lestrange. A smile graced the girls features as she gently ran her finger tips over it, feeling herself fading away.

𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦

Screaming and shouting could vaguely be heard as a young woman, Cheryl Lestrange, lay lifeless on the cold bloodied ground, a young man was shaking her shoulders with tears repeatedly falling down his angelic face.

"Cher, please wake up." He cried while rasing his hand up to her face, caressing it gently, smearing blood onto her face as he did so. "My darling, Cheryl, oh how I wish you would open your beautiful brown eyes to gaze upon me once more."

Veins appeared under the man's eyes, his once blue eyes glowed a vibrant red as he bent down towards the girls face, tears still falling from his now monstrous eyes and falling onto her pale cheeks." I will make you come back to me, Cher, I can't live without you." His voice grew stronger as he bit down into his arm, letting his blood flow quickly as he pressed it against her soft lips, urging her to drink, hoping she would.

His hope soon drifted away as she made no movements to awaken, with one sudden action he took the sword from beside him, already wanting to kill the demon he was becoming.

His painful cries could be heard as he raised his hand and plunged the sword into his chest, in his last dying breath he whispered one final word.

"Finally"

𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦𓂃❦

Elara gasped as a single tear ran down her cheek, after witnessing two deaths in one memory wasn't something that could be dealt with lightly. The vivid images of the blood coating Cheryl's clothes and face, the crying of the man still lingering in her ears.

But what scared her the most was what he changed into, she knew it to be some kind of vampire, but nothing like what Camille nor Raphael were. Could Cedric have been a different type of Downworlder? Elara merely thought she could try to find out. But she would need to search for a photograph of him, Cedric Harrington.

Dead Of Night - Jace Wayland Where stories live. Discover now