Seven fallen angels incapable of falling in love. One girl that can keep them from spiraling into darkness.
Used to waiting on others to make a decision, Grey is a waitress at a high-end cafe. That is, until she finds herself lured into a parallel...
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Thunder shook the earth, the heavens, and hell.
With each lash of deafening sound an equally bright ribbon of lightning pulled taut in the sky. Rain dripped from Grey's clothes--nothing more than a white nightgown. The familiar red carpet beneath her feet was drenched, water squishing and bubbling as she stepped. For some reason, a magnetic pull lured her towards the grand staircase of roses that she'd seen her friends lean on thousands of times by now. Except back then, the flowers were not withered and she was not wasting away.
She was in the Great Hall, but at the same time not. More like a phantom remnant of what it used to be. The graceful, towering ceilings had collapsed onto the floor. Shards of glass wider than her face decorated the checkered tile, glimmering under the rain like broken pieces of a mirror. Shattered gargoyles and statues lied in pieces around the carpet, and the sky mourned and mourned for the absence of the purple glow that lit the world.
Grey climbed the staircase, heart wailing for something she couldn't explain; but, she understood that it all lied on the other side of that colossal door. Lingering certainty pointed her in that direction, and as she would always follow her first mind, she sank into a peculiarly hollow silence as her hands wrapped around the handle. It gave without her using any force.
Devastation adorned the dimly lit room, eight bodies encircled by ivory flowers lying on the floor in a circle before her feet. She did not need to see blood to tell that they were dead, that the light had gone from their eyes and from their souls and flickered in memory in Grey's chest. Rain showered their open graves because half of the ceiling had crumbled some feet away.
"You have a pure heart."
Grey tore her gaze from the corpses. Moonlight illuminated a woman with straight, white hair to her knees even though the clouds did their best to lock the rays out. She also wore a white gown, the lace sleeves and skirts so delicate it could have been woven from spiderwebs. Her golden eyes were pale, ghastly--and Grey grew infuriated when she could not recognize them.
Grey's voice broke. "What happened to them? What is this?"
The woman's voice was beautiful. "This is your future. You can't stop what's coming."
The tears on the girl's cheeks mixed into the water dripping down her chin. "That doesn't make sense. Nothing leads to this. Nothing's coming."
"Everything has to end. Your existence brought us here and involved you in things greater than I can explain in your language. You are a mighty force, Grey. Your heart is strong. But it is not enough."
Lightning flashed, the open graves transforming into streams of blood that ran underneath Grey's feet. Her stomach roiled as she took in the new sight: limbs bent in unnatural ways, necks bruised and swollen, bottomless open eyes staring in various directions. It was death in all it's glory and it was all her fault--
