The Saints Have Fallen

Chapter 5

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Yuri

I sat on the bench under the oak tree, perplexed at the situation. Even though I could read her thoughts, I fail to compel her. How can that even be possible? Small red birds fluttered around when one suddenly perched itself upon my shoulder.

"Brave little thing." I smiled, holding him in my hand and prying the note out of his claws. "My brother sends a message I see." The little creature flew off rapidly as I let it go and opened the note.

'Consider the girl as my apology.'

I turned towards the house where she sat at the porch with Tomai and was attempting helplessly to fit into a shoe. The shoe flipped back and hit him in the face when she panicked and cradled him in her arms.

I arched an eyebrow. That was my apology? My teeth edged. This was an absolute insult. And yet, I sit here unable to comprehend such a human with the ability to defy me. Had I lost my magic? No. I still feel it flowing through my blood. Then why was she different? Why is Mathias holding her in such high regard?

Byron stood behind me. I could sense his presence. "My Lord." He called. "It is time."

"Ah yes. Delightful." I smiled and stood. "Guard the house until I am back." I paused and added, "And the girl. I will not be long."

He nodded as I walked towards the back of the manor. I could feel the air tremble before me as I neared the well. Two hundred years ago I used my magic to turn it into a portal to the Otherworld. It may not have been the highlands amongst the Gods but it was certainly something far more interesting. The Otherworld was a bridge between the highlands and lowlands or heavens and hells respectively. It was a place where the fallen/ exiled/ and those rebellions against the Gods and Demons resided, a place where the lost souls roamed. It was the gateway to the darkest hell and a battlefield I enjoyed being amongst. Quite honestly it was the only thing that helped me sustain my mentality. I despised living amongst the humans. It was humiliating to live amongst these weak creatures.

I stood at the edge of the well. The feel of the scythe in my hand was exhilarating. My blood burned within my flesh. I jumped in. I steadied my balance as always. A thrill shot through my body as I felt the air thin and thicken. I always found myself smiling as this part. The harsh wind of the fall sliced through my hair as I fell.

My boots impacted onto the muddy shore of the Dead Lake. A cold sweat ran down my forehead as I chuckled. The sky was a charcoal grey with perched pregnant clouds ready to give birth to a deadly storm.

"Well well well," a voice chuckled from behind, "Seems like you can never get enough of this place."

The syren swam seductively with a wicked smirk behind. "Is it true? Do you like the taste of a woman's heart?"

"Oh yes," I smiled innocently and turned to face her. Her face was as fair as porcelain and eyes as deep as emerald. An illusion to what her kind truly was. "The beautiful ones are the most delicious." I licked my lips in a smirk.

"I don't mind, you know," She smiled and made her tail do a little splash behind, "If you take a little taste of mine. Just come a little closer to me." There it was. The lure. Then, the kill.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I only eat the hearts of beautiful women."

She was about to screech for her sisters when I chuckled, "Save it, I already have a headache." My right hand burned, itching to throw a flame at her and my left ready to slice her into thin pieces, "Now tell me, would you rather be fried or sashimied?"