Death Angel

Chapter 31: The Darkness

The darkness was comforting for once. 

I allowed it envelop me completely, wanting to wrap myself further and further in its peaceful embrace;  a presence that was at once comforting and deceptive. Like the fisherman’s shiny lure, it brought the promise of a handsome reward at the end of the line, but I always feared the barbed hooks that were hidden, ready to latch onto me at any time.

Yes, Vanessa, just like that.

It would far too easy to let myself sink into the mires of unbeing. 

Sleep.

Eternal sleep and blissful oblivion. A place where there was no pain. No difficult choices to make, no heavy responsibilities to bear. How I yearned to be freed of the burden that had been thrust upon me so suddenly, so forcefully inconsiderate of my own hopes and feelings.

Once, and only once have I felt this weak before. I recalled once more the funeral I ran away from, the one where Donovan Hunter had been laid to rest. The helplessness that I felt that lonely afternoon, as the service proceeded without me, was debilitating. I did not have the strength to properly mourn my father’s passing. I ran out of the parlor without looking back,  minding the people around me not, and ignoring the sights and sounds as I ran as fast as I could,  until I was out of breath; until I finally snuck into a nondescript alleyway, found myself a dirty little corner to sit in, and cried my eyes out. 

It smelled bad. It reeked of refuse,but my heart kept going back to my pain. The smell of the garbage gradually giving way to my tumultuous emotions.

No one came. 

Not a single soul heard the young girl crying, wanting release from the mortal coil. 

But amidst the turmoil had come order. 

Through teary eyes, I observed as the world went on all around me. Despite the great pain I was undergoing at the time, the universe continued on with its ever changing designs. I witnessed ordinary people going about their daily business. There was the little girl with her mother, taking an afternoon stroll - no doubt on the way to the ice cream parlor just a few blocks further down. The little girl had braided her hair beautifully, her golden locks moving in tandem with her skips and hops, her yellow dress glowing in the bright afternoon sun, beaming with life and standing in stark to contrast to my black satin frills, at once beautiful and horrible at the same time, as I sat with my sadness amidst the refuse.

But that vision made me understand that life wasn’t fair. C’est la vie, say the French. ‘That is life’, and at that moment, I accepted the card that fate dealt me. 

Light and Darkness. 

It so easy for the little girl to be happy - she had her mother still, and clung to her with the innocence of a child that knew that everything was going to be ok.

Such trust.

I held such trust once. 

I held my father in such high regard that I placed him on a pedestal. No other human being could have hoped to live up to the lofty ideals that I held my father to. Ultimately, everything came crashing down. The dream, the life, even the eternal promise that Death made me.

Death? What an oddly familiar concept.

Oh, that’s right. The being that struck a deal with me. Was he the Devil incarnate? it mattered little to me at this point. I’d died once before. Dying a second time wasn’t such a big deal.

“You torment yourself so, dear sister of ours.”

“Huh?” I thought aloud. 

The voice had come unbidden. I’d  barely realized its presence, a soft, almost gloomy feeling that veiled itself, just beneath the surface of my conscious thought. 

I’d felt something similar before, back when Azazel had been speaking directly into my mind. But this force didn’t feel malevolent somehow. But it did not feel benign either. It was rather, a curious, neutral presence, like a forest animal that happens upon a hiker in their natural habitat. It didn’t feel out of place. 

I questioned the rationality of the thoughts I was having. 

Focus on the darkness, Vanessa. Do not let your emotions get the better of you. 

Yes, just like that.

“You choose to heed our voices not, dear sister.”

There it was again. That singsong melody that forced itself upon me. Insistent but not forceful.

“Who are you?” I wondered in my mind, feeling almost foolish to be conducting a dialogue with myself.

“We are your sisters.”

“My sisters?”

“Your predecessors, Vanessa.”

“Predecessors? The Van Dyke clan?”

“Yes. We are your sisters. We, who are immortal and live on in spirit form forever.”

“Souls without a color.”

“Yes. Free spirits. Bound to neither Heaven, Hell nor Death.”

“This it then? This is the true power of the Van Dyke Chosen?”

“You, dear sister, have yet to see the true manifestation of the Van Dyke powers. You place far too much faith in the gifts the Grim Reaper has given you.”

“Who am I speaking with specifically?”

“With us. With all of us. We have been speaking to you for very long. Through your dreams.”

“Ariel, the little girl that spoke of the Angel of Death, of the Passover, I had dreams of her.” 

“Aye, Ariel was one of the first Van Dykes to cross over as a Death Angel.”

“So a Van Dyke crossing over isn’t unheard of?”

“Not at all.”

“And Catherine?”

“Catherine is with us too. We are all connected, you see. We to you, and you to us. You just needed to hear our words in the stillness of your heart. You will always be connected to your sistren.”

“When Aunt Sylvia told me the Van Dykes could call upon free spirits, the ‘little people’ so she said, she was referring to call upon our sisters?”

“Exactly so Vanessa. We are all around you. Many of us have chosen to hide our presence from the world, but a few of us, like you make their presence known.”

“What is it you seek of me?” I asked finally, somehow knowing the answer, but wanting to confirm it.”

“Your father poses a grave threat to the order of things. We have let this wrong run far too long without acting.”

“He is my father, my responsibility,” I said in the darkness. My mind was still clouded, unclear.

“Yes, your father he is, your responsibility he is, as well.”

I kept silent at that, and waited for my sisters to tell me what was next.

“Tell us, dear sister. What would you do in this situation, with your wings severed, and your life hanging in the balance once more, how will you turn this around?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “but it would be better than just giving up and not trying.”

“You are a powerful young woman, Vanessa. As fiery, inventive and tempestuous as any Van Dyke who ever came before you. Pass our test and we will lend you our powers.”

“A test?” I wondered aloud.

“Yes,” the voice responded back to me.

“A test.”

“Fine, I accept.” I said.

Sorry this is so short! Time for me to crowdsource this once more! What do you think the test is? How will Vanessa pass it?

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