Chapter 1

This is a rewrite of Devil's and Angels. Some new characters will join the old ones and it is the same general situation. It might have a different ending, it might not. Either way, it will have more twists and more scenes of Aria and Luke! Anyway, without further ado, here it is, the newly updated Devil's and Angels

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a boy and a girl. They fell in love and despite the fact that they tended to argue over everything and anything, they were the perfect couple. And they both died.

Just kidding.

I hope.

But I'm sure you didn't expect that. After all it sounds like fairytale right? Or at the very least some romance novel written for preteens who pour over it and think "Oh my gosh that's going to be me in high school!" The ponytail wearing, blonde haired blue eyed girl falls in love with the dark haired bad boy who is somehow emotionally damaged and learns to trust again. They go on to have beautiful children who live beautiful lives and they die when they're old and grey and holding each other. It's a perfect romantic movie complete with the cheesy soundtrack and the perfect characters who fall deeply and perfectly in love.

Yeah. I wish.

Sounds way better than my current reality. But that's the reason fantasy exists, to give us an escape from our real lives. How sad is that?

Anyway, I'm getting distracted. That's not the reason that I'm telling you this. No, the reason I'm telling you this is because as of right now, I am sitting on the edge of my bed, it's 2 in the morning and I am staring at a gun. It's cold, so very cold and yet I can't sleep. Not going to lie to you guys, it looks pretty bleak at this point. I don't know what to do. God, I wish I knew what to do.

Now, how did I get to this point you might ask? Well in order to tell my story we have to tell a very different story. I promise it will all tie together. Eventually. Now buckle up boys and girls. Get ready for the tale of the mark!

…..

Did you ever play domino's as a little kid? I did. I loved creating the patterns, setting each one up perfectly. I used to cry when I had to knock them down. Everyone here knows how domino's work right? You knock one down and the whole lot tumble down. My mom used to tell me that lies were like domino's. One little step too far and bang, everything came tumbling down. And that's where our story begins. With a small event. Well small by savant scale. The very first domino.

A savant guy blows up a mall. A 16 year old boy, who has no idea how important he is, was arrested for blowing up a mall. And when I say blowing it up, I mean Boom. No more American Eagle. No more Sephora. The very odd thing was that no explosives were found. Zilch, nothing to start the fire except one boy who had very curiously survived. Plus there's security footage of him bursting into flames, he was seriously having a bad day. I always count it as a good day when I don't catch my hair on fire.

And during a search, something weird came up. A tattoo against his shoulder. Now at that point in time, no one really cared. This boy made poor tattoo choices Oh my god so scary. Let's just throw him in jail and forget all about it and eat some donuts said some cop at the scene if the crime, probably. Now if you can't tell, I made the last part up. Not the guy blowing up the mall, no that's real but the cop part. Truth is I don't know what they said, though I imagine it was something along those lines. Well maybe not the donuts but my point is that it wasn't just a tattoo.

No it turns out the tattoo was a little more concerning. Because it popped up again. This time on a ten year old boy who actually did something good. He stopped a mass murderer from killing his little sister. By essentially exploding his brain. Kind of creepy when you think about it. Unfortunately for him, the Net didn't feel like being very nice to people who stop serial killers with their mind. Go figure.

Turns out, he had the same mark. It almost looked burned against his skin, pitch black. 3 circles, each with 4 little circles on the line. Now I don't know any ten year olds that have tattoos, correct me if I'm wrong. So naturally they brought the ten year old and the now 20 year old guy who blew up the mall into a secret lab to apply "advanced interrogation techniques" to find out how they did these things. See I just call it torture but everyone's entitled to there own opinion. Actually no they're not. It was torture.

Anyway, if you're still with me, the scientists from the Net that were in charge of the little project announced their findings. In short without any fancy scientific language, the mark made them superheroes. Even among the savants. Enhanced speed, strength, stamina and their gift was enhanced. If savants were an extra gear shift in a normal car, the marked were a fricking Ferrari.

Sounds pretty good right?

Unfortunately people only like superheroes when there's a) a giant alien army attacking and b) when they have Chris Hemsworth's abs. And savants started to pipe up with complaints, "It's not fair that I'm not special." "It's an abomination." "It's unnatural. " "They must be the Devil's children."

Human beings are just odd that way, they can't control something, therefore it is the devil. And so began the mass panic. People with the mark were beaten, murdered and tore apart. They started to defend themselves. They thought they were saving themselves, but they were signing their own death certificates. The Net made a special announcement while people with the mark held their breath. Waiting for the news that they would be saved, they would be helped. Instead, they were condemned. The mark was considered the mark of the devil and anyone afflicted with it, is no longer fit to be considered human. Basically, if you had the mark, you were as good as dead. You were allowed to be shot on spot or dragged off to a facility for testing. You simply weren't considered a human being anymore. Thousands were killed. Some tried to run but we're turned in. Brothers betrayed sisters, father's betrayed sons. Husband and wife turned on each other. The first domino had fallen. Nothing would ever be the same.

The mark manifests when a child is 10 years old. They show signs of abnormality before that, special gifts and such. You can't get rid of the mark. Cutting, burning, tattooing over top, none of these work. The mark heals itself. Believe me, I've tried. The mark affects you whether you're a serial killer or Mother Teresa. You could be the most angelic child in the world but you're still going to be shot. Most leave their homes when they receive the mark. Leg it out of there and hope they make it far enough. They never do. You run and you're dead. You stay and you're dead. They will find you no matter what. They will relentlessly hunt you until you are too tired to get to your feet but still you crawl and then there's the sound of a trigger and it's all over.

If you're lucky.

If you're not, you are dragged off to a research facility, tortured until you waste away and finally your body will give out. Personally I choose the first option. A bullet in the head always sounded better to me.

Quicker.

Of course I have no choice in the matter. And so that's the story. The story of a mark that has torn families apart, ruined lives.

Now we get into my story. I can't promise that it's not as gruesome. I can't promise a happy ending. But it would be so awesome if it was right?

But there's only one end for my kind. Let's start from the very first time that I ever proved myself to be a, well let's just say not a normal savant.

…..

November 23rd 2005

Picture this. A cemetery at night. The tombstones cast shadows over the wet grass. The clouds shift, momentarily exposing the moon before blanketing the world. A little girl stumbles through the cemetery, eyes red from crying. She clutches a ratty old teddy bear in one hand, it's button eyes reflecting the shifting clouds. She shivers from the cold, panic deep in her eyes. She's lost, obviously.

But she's not as alone as she thinks she is. "Are you lost my dear?" An elderly woman leans against her cane, smiling down at the young girl.

She remains silent, eyes darting up to glance at the woman's grey hair. "Mommy says not to talk to strangers." She murmurs finally, clutching her teddy to her chest.

"Well your mother is a very smart women. But I'm just here to help you find your brothers."

The women extends a shaky wrinkled hand. The girl hesitates before setting her young small hand into the women's. She's cold. The women is freezing cold against the warm skin of the little girl.

"There now dear. Let's find your brothers. I'm Nana Wilder." The girl walks alongside the older women.

"I'm Aria." She says softly, "and this is mister wiggles." She holds up the ratty teddy and

Nana smiles. "Well it's very nice to meet you both. Tell me Aria, how old are you?" Aria frowns in concentration, counting out 4 of her small fingers. "I'm four." She announces, pleased by her own ability. The woman nods, looking at her with sadness. Aria skips on, completely unaware of Nana's troubled gaze. She's just happy to have found a friend.

Her big brothers ran away too fast for her to keep up. They were always mean to her, calling her a baby. She wasn't a baby anymore, she could count to 20, sometimes, and she could run faster then them. But she had tripped and lost them in the woods.

Nana stops suddenly and Aria falls back, Mr wiggles dangling from her free hand. "Nana?"

"Hush little one."

Aria stomps her foot. She hates that nickname. "I'm not little or a baby." She glares at the much older woman who stares back at her sadly.

"You won't be for much longer. You have a hard path to walk. I'm so sorry." Nana's eyes fill with tears as she stares at the young girl.

"Aria?" Her brother's voice echoes through the woods. "Trace!" He breaks into the clearing, clearly out of breath. "Aria!" He scolds. "Why would you run away like that?" Trace seizes her hand, his 14 year old frame much larger than her 5 year old one.

"It's ok, I found Nana." Aria informs her brother quite calmly. He let's out an exasperated sigh. "Did you make another invisible friend? You know you really should be outgrowing that stage soon." He shakes his head.

"It's late. Let's go home, Victor I've got her!" He calls into the trees. He pulls Aria away, her skipping to keep up with his longer legs. All thoughts of her friend have been chased away by the prospect of going home.

It's a shame that she didn't look a little harder though because she would have seen a tombstone behind her, the statue of the angel almost looming over her. If she looked a little closer, she might even have wiped off the dust and seen the inscription.

"Here lies Anna "Nana" Wilder. 1912-1992. There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind." However on that cold night the little girl didn't learn the truth. That night would come later.

But for now it didn't matter, the mark had claimed it's next victim.