Amongs || GulfMew

A War

3 Thousand years later

Mew sat in an orchard of blossom trees. He loved this place; it was his only heaven, his only peace. The wind blew softly giving him the music of the blossoms swaying against each other. The air held a pure scent not existing in any other world but here giving Mew's lungs a relief. Mew closed his eyes, he wasn't used to the sun and he always had his eyes closed.

Angel's didn't come here anymore. They were all busy fighting the war; a war that would determine who would rule the human world for another one hundred years. Most of the time Angels won and there was peace in the world. The last time the Demons won they succeeded in creating World War 1 and World War 2.

He was tired of fighting, tire of watching another die. Mew lived his life full of war. Being born in the B.C., an innocent wasn't innocent for long.

Mew laughed in self-mockery. He fell in love with a man who loved money and the damn war. He heard about how Mew was a well-known warrior and all the riches he had made in his young life. He tricked him. He made Mew fall in love and pretend to be captured by bandits. The bandits then made a deal with Mew, helped them gain riches and they would let his lover go. Little did Mew know that his lover was actually their leader. How naive he was. How stupid.

Mew grimaced, opening his eyes to the feeling of his control snapping. With effort he took a deep breath of the pure air and pushed those memories in the darkest corners of his mind.

After three thousand years those memories still came to haunt him. Reminding him of what a fool he had been to fall in love. Love never existed, love was evil in disguise.

Mew closed his eyes again and let his head rest on the tree trunk. His black wings stretching out from behind him, needing to move, before engulfing him as if in protection. He wore black jeans and a loose white color shirt.

Without the wings most mistake him for an Angel because of his features. His skin as white as snow; his warm chocolate eyes would mesmerize even an Angel. He was tall and he had the muscle and skill to take a man ten times his weight. Angels would always approach him because of a peaceful aura he emitted.

Mew scoffed. Everyone knew who he was. He was not to be messed with. He was the very reason why the Demons won last time. His strength and skill earned the respect of even older and powerful Demons. They wanted him to be their leader in this years' war.

Not going through that again, Mew thought.

Mew wished he could spend eternity here; a place with no war, no hate, and no need to put a mask on. Immortality, Mew thought with a dejected sign, was more of a curse than a gift.

Mew's skin prickled as he felt eyes watching him. Was it the same person? Mew thought as he opened his eyes a little.

It was.

An Angel stood off to the side. His black pearl eyes watching him with interest. He was so beautiful. His hair the richest midnight color Mew has ever seen, but it was his eyes that always held Mew captive. His eyes seemed to pierce through his black soul and see all the horrors he had done.

Doesn't matter, Mew thought, closing his eyes again. Let him see. That man has never failed to show up and stand in exactly the same spot.

As long as he left Mew alone he had no problem with his presence.

Mew felt the pull of Hell calling him probably his turn to torture.