I wake slowly. Then air around me smells metallic. I feel a wet substance running down my neck from my lips my arms are also wet. Cautiously, I open my eyes, only to have my fears confirmed. My body is covered in fresh blood. It's warming heat caressing me from the inside.
I turn my head carefully. The room I'm standing in is littered with corpses; pale, and drained of their lifeblood. Men, women, children, and infants cover the lush carpet. They were killed without regret, mercilessly, feeling the pain until the bitter end.
I can't take it anymore. I can't look at the carnage. My soul shrivels in my chest. I don't remember how this happened, only the sick, twisted thrill that it did. Disgusted, I fall to my knees. A spray of blood splashes from a puddle to dampen my cheek. I cringe in abhorrence, as my body convulses in sobs. The guilt and anger overwhelms my tired body, and I am pulled into the blessed abyss of unconsciousness.
I wake screaming at the top of my lungs. My eyes shoot open, searching for the dead. Suddenly, she is there, pulling me into her arms, and everything inside of me, the pain guilt and fear pour out in a steady stream of sobs. Her gentle voice pulls me from the brink of insanity.
"Angel. It's ok, I'm here." she holds me closer, knowing that the nightmares from my time in hell are causing this. She also knows that in some way they are her fault.
I want to tell her that she is not to blame, but I can't. Even though I am the one who bears the curse, and she has the burden of a sacred duty to protect humanity, I cannot forget the way she looked, and how it felt to be in her arms, as she drove a sword through me, even as she proclaimed her love. She sent me to Hell.