My Demons and I (Part one.)

As pen met paper,the story began to be told. Only those there knew the horrors of what had happened over those short years, though many did not live long enough to tell this tale of woe.

Usually I can think of things to say once it’s over. Things I should have said, things I should have done. This time I didn’t, it’s all over and I couldn’t imagine my life any other way. Most of it is lost to the sea of memories and pain. Eighteen years, is that all? It feels like a century has passed. But I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s go back a little further.

It was a cold day in November when the war began. Well it was a war that has lasted since the dawn of time, but on the 27th of November, the flames of the foes hatred were given more fuel, resulting in what we mortals call world war two. Before you lose interest and turn away from whatever device you are reading this on, consider this, what if hatred was sparked by a higher being? In fact, the war was caused by a demon who just couldn’t resist interfering with mortal affairs. I would tell you more if I could, but even to me the facts remain hidden, but I digress. Everything kicked into hyper-drive and the two mighty foes began to brawl after what had been two hundred blissful years of ceasefire. I think it’s about time I told you, this war was between Heaven and Hell.

After the demon caused the second world war, the war between demons and angels was reborn into a deeper hatred, after all, Heaven could not accept demons interfering with their beloved mortals. Heaven’s soldiers took to the battlefield to make one more attempt at eradicating the demon plague. The Angels were once again defeated in the first battle, many taken hostage, most killed. The number of Angel warriors dwindled to only a few thousand and Heaven, for the first time ever, became weak.

Unlike Hell, Heaven is run by a council consisting of six Angels, one in charge if the army, one to oversee the construction of homes and buildings, another for the population control who is backed by the fourth who searches for possible candidates in mortals to become Angels. The fifth Angel is the one in charge of all the rest, overseeing all that happens in the mortal and immortal world. I suppose you are wondering what the job of the sixth is, well she is different from the rest. while all angels are known for wearing white, she wears black for she is the Angel of death. The council held meetings to try to solve the problem we call demons, but a much worse problem was on its way.

One Angel, who was taken hostage by the Demons, upon release, returned to captivity for she, after being trapped for near 40 years, had fallen madly in love with her demon guard; or so the record shows. No, he was not an ordinary demon, but a fallen Angel. He had once been her husband, both of them in the army. In the early years of the war, Lucifer had been on the council as the Angel in control of the army. No-one, not even his wife, knows why he did what he did, I doubt even he himself could justify his actions.

Many people perceive Fallen Angels as Angels which have, for no reason at all, fallen down from Heaven, when in fact, Fallen Angels are Heaven’s criminals. Upon being cast down, the Angel would be given five minutes to say their goodbyes, every second supervised by the council (who would have been the judge and jury). After that, the criminal has their wings clipped so they are no longer able to fly, for them it is well and truly a fate worse than death. They fall in a burning ball of fire, we mortals will only see a shooting star. Lucifer was without a doubt guilty, and was falling later the very same day, without time to say goodbye. Unlike most, he survived the fall, his wings singed and left scarred dyed black from the fall, livid red scratches covering his pale skin, even now, he remains in this condition.

Anyway, Lucifer’s wife, Angelica, did return to captivity in hopes of running away with her husband. Of course it didn’t work, for he was the pride and joy of Hell’s army and so was tagged like a wild animal. If he dared try to leave Hell, a strong electrical shock would render him immobilized until he could be collected and taken back to the underworld. He didn’t stop trying though, not because he wanted to escape, but because he wanted to see her. After what had been two hundred and forty-five years of imprisonment, he was finally allowed to leave, but only for twenty-four hours a year. Those few short hours were precious to him and he spent every second of them with Angelica.

This is where I come in.

I am a middle child. there couldn’t be much more wrong with that sentence. I grew up in an ordinary twenty-first century house, in a twenty-first century town in a world tearing itself apparent at the seams. Like most children, went to school and lived a quiet life; that was until I woke up one morning with long, curling horns and large, bat-like wings, at the age of seven. Did I have a tail? No, I didn’t, I am not a demon…I’m half Angel. Before nightfall, my wings and horns disappeared, for which I was glad. it was that night that the people who raised me told me the truth about what and who I am.

They were good people, my keepers. They were everything I am not. Both of them worked and brought in good money, but it was barely enough to support all three of us. They had found me on their doorstep in a little cardboard box with nothing but a blanket and a small piece of paper with my name on it with me. They said I was only a day old, and they had desperately wanted children, so they kept me and raised me as their own. They explained about how, when I was two years old, my mother turned up in their doorstep in the forum of a young woman in ordinary clothes. She told that she was , in fact, an Angel and asked them to take care of my sister, who at the time was no older than I had been when my keepers found me on their doorstep. They didn’t believe her of course, that was until she sprouted white wings win the blink of an eye. Her clothes had apparently turned into a long, floor-length white dress, her hair becoming gold and her whole body giving of a strange kind of glow.

Out of the kindness of their hearts, my keepers had taken my sister in, but gave her to a nearby orphanage where they could watch over her. After only a moment’s hesitation, they told me about my mother’s warning. She told my keepers to keep me and my newborn sister away from our brother at all costs. They kept their word for as long as they could, I suppose it was unavoidable that we would meet.

My eighth birthday came around, bringing with it a fresh round of hurdles for us to tackle. I had invited all my friends around for an outdoor party, and in the sea of exited party guests, their parents and the moody teenagers who had been dragged along, I spotted two kids I didn’t know. One was a boy, who looked much like me only more muscular and with raven blacks hair which seemed to have never been brushed. With him was a shy looking girl who was six years old. She had dark brown eyes and long blonde hair which was considerably neater than that of her companion. They spent the duration of the party stood by the garden gate, whispering to one another. They didn’t play party games or eat anything, not even a slice if  cake nor did they participate in singing happy birthday to me.

That night I sat on my bed, pulling on a pair of fluffy socks and thinking about the strangers at my party. That was when I heard a knocking noise coming from my bedroom door, or I thought it was the door. I looked up and caught movement out of the corner of my eye, I looked towards my window and fell backwards off my bed in shock at what I saw. The boy from my party sat on my window ledge, the wind from the now open window blowing my curtain into my shelves, knocking my favorite snowglobe onto the floor, where it shattered into a million tiny pieces. He sat there crouched on the sill, staring at me like a lion about to pounce on a gazelle. His unbrushed and wind-blown hair framed his bony face, his cheek bones sharp enough to slice burnt bread. His green eyes blazed like torches in the night. I screamed. Within seconds my keepers burst through the door, but the boy was already gone. I told them about the boy and, after a short check of the garden and of course under my bed, they decided that it was all just a dream.

A month later, I came home from school and, for no reason at all, had a feeling of dread hanging over me. I walked into my home and my keepers were waiting for me. We went into the living room where, sat on the cheap second-hand sofa were the kids from the party, both in school uniform. my keepers were quick to explain that these two strangers were my brother and sister, JJ and Zoe. They explained that they lived in an orphanage not too far away and were about to be adopted by the young couple across the road. Zoe was a full-blooded Angel, but, like me, she had been sent down to earth by the counsel of Heaven, for, in their eyes, we were freaks and should not exist. we were better off dead. J, on the other hand, was fully demon, despite his angelic blood. He had been raised in Hell with our father until he was sent to live on earth when he was nine.

Although we lived so close, I never really saw my siblings, it was as if nothing had changed. When my tenth birthday came, JJ and Zoe came to the party. we decided we wanted to get to know one another properly, and for a few blissful years we were like a proper family. We would walk to school together, the three of us, every day, J dropping me and Zoe at the junior school and walking to the senior which was just up the road. some of my fondest memories were with them, I thought it would never end. But the bubble had to burst eventually, didn’t it?

When I turned thirteen, everything changed. Zoe and JJ started to argue a lot, over the dumbest things, I hated it. one day an argument got out of hand, I (with help from a friend) had to pull my sixteen year old brother off Zoe before he hurt her. She had a black eye and a few bruises but was otherwise ok. “Its the blood” my keepers said. “Angels and Demons clash, that’s just the way they are.” it was like my life had become a locomotive speeding down the line with no breaks and no control.

Then came the night that ruined everything for good; the night I committed murder.

Zoe and J were staying round at my house for a sleep over. I had left them alone together while keeping brushed my teeth and changed into my pyjamas. I will never forget what I was upon re-entering my room. Both campbeds were overturned and the room was a mess, I never really noticed much about the state of my room for something else had my attention. Zoe lay motionless on the floor in her pink nightgown and black Pyjama bottoms. My brother kneeled beside her, repetitively stabbing her in the chest. Her clothes were dyed crimson with her own blood, bruises covered her face and arms. All I could do was watch as J mashed his eleven her old sister into a bloody mass of flesh on the floor.  Blood was everywhere. The carpet, the beds and bedding, the walls and, somehow, the ceiling were drenched in the stuff. JJ was covered in it too, his black hoodie dripped blood, as did his leather fingerless gloves. He silently rose to his feet and waded through the blood of our sister towards me, knife in hand. His boots splashed it around, soaking my batman socks. He grinned at me, his blood covered face was not that of my brother but that of a monster, a demon.

JJ suddenly lunged at me, it was only by sheer luck that I survived, because he slipped on the blood, falling forward and landing on his knife. I rushed to him and turned him over. Then I saw that the knife was embedded in his chest. there was something in those emerald eyes of his that compelled me to end it. I grabbed the handle with both hands, blood oozing from the wound the blade had caused. I took one quick look at Zoe’s corpse and pushed down on the dagger, piercing J’s heart.

Suddenly it was all very real, the blood, JJ’s groans as he slowly bled out, the corpse of my sister, my own heavy breathing, it all came together. I sat there for a while, kneeling at my brother’s side, hands on the dagger, unable to move. J took his last breath and his spirit rose from the wound in his chest. The black cloud with glowing red eyes stared at me for a long time, then it seemed to grin, exposing a set of razor-sharp shark-like teeth. before I could react, it flew down towards me, aiming for my heart. It hit my chest and went right through my skin as if it weren’t there. I screamed in agony as my brother’s soul possessed my body. In a strange way I gained a room-mate.