Fallen Angel

Chapter 79: Brannon

I stood at the vanity, pulling the sides of my shirt open. One bloodied hand print sat over my chest, my father had marked me with Emily's blood. A blood union forged by the devil, there was little that could break it, not that I wanted that to happen.

I'd already washed the blood from my face, my own blood to ensure that my thoughts were always my own. How he'd gotten my blood I don't know but I knew it had happened when we were in the abyss.

Fear was always the enemy, I was distracted by the apparition in the murky depths, I didn't know what my father was really up to. He'd bound me to Emily and she was bound to me. I knew that when I looked at the script that was emerging on my chest.

The delicate curves of the beautiful lines that formed a word were slowly drawing to the surface, settling over my heart. Emily. Forever written on my heart, the devil's bind was so strong that it soaked through the skin, muscles and bones and embedded upon the skin like a tattoo. A tattoo that I would wear proudly, knowing that our love was so strong that we could accept an eternity with each other and not be scared by it.

Lines of watery blood trickled down my chest, I wiped them away and cleaned up the mess. As I buttoned my shirt back up, I smiled. Life was moving well, heaven would back off now that Emily had made a deal with my father, they couldn't interfere anymore.

Like the world had some sick need to butcher my happiness, I found an uneasiness wash over me. Stepping out of the bathroom, I saw a rather built man standing beside my bed. In his hands was a long sword, the view of the gilded hilt was all but marred by his large hands. But I knew what that sword was. It was Michaels sword, the one that he wielded over my father when they battled for earth.

This was not Michael but he was an angel, those bright purple eyes looked up at me with supremacy as he lifted the sword over Emily. Without thinking, I sent a gust of wind at him. It knocked him off his feet, sending him backwards. The sword was dropped as he lost his balance and the angel fell out the window. Glass smashed everywhere, making a terrible mess.

Stalking across the room, I checked on Emily who was still asleep, completely unaware of the danger she was in. The bedroom door opened abruptly, my father standing at the threshold with anger and fear in his eyes. Instantly his eyes snapped to the window, the angel had returned.

Large white wings flapped as he drew closer, a smug grin offered as he looked at my father. The man was brave, I'll give him that. Going against my father was not ideal, even Michael in all his might struggled. This guy was just a deus, he wasn't going to win.

As soon as my father moved to take a step, the angel looked at him and shook his head.

"Not you, old man. This is the boy's fight."

"You dare to enter my world and demand such things? Get out before I drag you to the pit."

"You've stolen an angel, devil. You will have your time before a jury of my kin."

"There will be no such jury, you insolent worm. The deal she made was approved by your kin so there are no grounds for your demands. I saved you from the wrath of my son but if you are so foolish as to come in here and stand before him with your demands then so be it. Die by his hand, it is of no consequence to me. An angel that dies in hell will become my property and I do love having angels under my command."

My father turned to me with a dark smile.

"This is Arcaedia, this is the vile thing that took Emily from you. I had him altered so that he posed no problems but clearly someone has changed that. This is our world Brannon; you have the upper hand. Drag him into the pit and cast him into the fire. Do not let him drag you out of hell, do you understand me?"

I nodded, feeling reassured by his firm grip on my shoulder. It was one that said that he would be there if I needed him. As we moved to the broken window, my father looked down at the sword with a lot of distaste. Putting his foot on it, he ensured that it would not be moved.

"Do it Brannon. Feel the anger. Let it rush through your body. Remember why he came here, what he wanted to do. He was the one that stole Emily from you, he was the one that hid her in that icy wasteland. He was the one that drugged her and stole her powers, he was the one that forced food into her. Do you remember the suffering in her eyes when she looked at that table of food?"

I nodded, remembering it all.

"Make him suffer."

"Gladly." I growled.

As the anger rocketed through me, I could feel the wings push out. In an instant I was out the window and barrelling straight into the angel. He didn't know what had happened until it was too late.

Slamming him into a tree, I bound him to it so that I could let more anger surge. Hatred for what he had done, loathing for the vile creature before me. His wings shot out, breaking through the binding and freeing him.

Not wasting any time, I pushed back into him, ramming my shoulder into the softness of his stomach. With an open hand, the angel slammed the heel of his palm against my chest. It sent me skittering backwards, my distraction was enough for him to gain the advantage.

The angel pushed hard against me, repeatedly shoving me against the wall of the castle. Dust crumbled around us, I looked up into the darkening purple eyes and realised that he was losing his innocence.

Demons had begun to gather, slowly drawing to the spectacle that was an angel and the son of the devil duking it out in the air. The angel slammed me into the wall again and I laughed as more dust fell over us.

"What is so funny, you fool?" The angel asked with a sneer.

"This."

With a bind shot up into the air, I grabbed hold of the gargoyle that was teetering on the edge and dragged it down. Moving out of his grip when he looked up, I narrowly avoided being hit by the great stone ornament.

His head swayed as he struggled to find coherence. It had sounded like his neck had been broken but that wouldn't last for long. A great gash in his head was oozing a lot of blood, it trickled down his neck as the gargoyle fell to the ground. Knowing my father's affection for the gargoyles that were once demons, I ensured that it came to a soft rest upon the leafy ground.

The angel was barely coherent and I knew it was now or never. Swooping in on him, I grabbed him and turned him swiftly, ripping the wings from his back. As the crowd of demons cheered at the bloody spectacle above them, the angel cried out with the pain.

Below us the land cracked open, the demons stepped back with frothing anticipation.

"Welcome to hell Arcaedia."

His bloodied body fell into the fire, dead and in hell, just the way that my father liked his angels. As the land sealed shut, I looked up to my father who was still standing at my broken window. The appreciation and pride on his face was subdued but I could see that he was impressed.

As I rose higher in the sky, still holding the wings, he lifted the sword from the floor.

"What are you going to do with your prize Brannon? Mount them on the wall as a reminder of what to do with those who go against you?"

"No, I've got something far better."