I'm sorry for the late update! My computer got a virus and well... it all went down hill from there... but I'm back now so ENJOY! :)
PENRYN
"Well well little nephilim girl, what a surprise." Jeremiel muses, staring at me similar to how a scientist might stare at his newest experiment. I close my mouth promptly and turn my face away. His warm fingers trace the line of my jaw and I resist the urg to bite him.
I have no doubt that they're going to kill me.
"Who's the Angel then sweetheart, your mommy or your daddy?" Michael asks eagerly, and I stare at him with distaste.
"If you're going to kill me, just do it. I'm getting a little bored." I taunt, my voice thick with sarcasm. Michael sneers and slaps me hard across the face, and Jeremiel sighs. I bite my lip as my cheek stings, willing myself to keep calm.
"Penryn, my dear" Jeremiel starts, standing up and walking over to me "there are certain... anicdotes, I suppose, that reverse the quick-paced healing of the nephilim body. A herb named Guarana causes the body's healing instinct to slow down when swallowed by a nephilim. If you do not give us the answers we require, we will have no choice but to force-feed you some very special Guarana herbs." Jeremiel stares at me solemnly, and I let my chin fall down to rest on my chest, ignoring him. Guarana herbs. That must be how my superhuman healing never grabbed my attention before- my mother was feeding me Guarana herbs sneakily to make me heal more slowly. But now that I've been without her for months, the effect of the Guarana's must have sub-sided. I cringe when I think of the horrendous- and slow healing- pain that the two Angels will be able to inflict on me once they drug me with the herb again.
"Wait a minute," Michael says, staring at me with eager, round eyes. "I know who your Angel parent is." He claims, smiling like a cheshire cat. My heart pumps violently as panic rises in my throat. Gabriel. "It's Raphael, isn't it? That's why you were both so eager to form a companionship!" Michael yells triumphantly.
Okay, eww.
If only Michael knew how completely and thouroughly wrong that statement is. Raffe my father? That would be unfortunate. Especially since I've kissed the guy- more than once.
"Are you crazy?" I can't help but blurt out. "Raffe is not my dad. Gross." I spit, but the look of complete amusement on their faces tells me that they don't believe me.
"How easily you lie." Michael observes. "I've heard that some humans even get payed to lie for amusement. Actors, they're called, aren't they? Those who pretend to be other people so that other humans can watch something completely fake occur?" He asks me and I shrug. "You would make a very good actor, Penryn." He says, and I raise my eyebrows.
"Gee, thanks, I'll make sure to note that down and talk to my guidance consellor about my future career options." I say snidely, and Michael laughs.
"Well, you are just like your father, aren't you? Both too cocky for your own good."
"At least I find my fun in being cocky and not torturing teenaged girls." I say pointedly.
"You think I'm having fun hurting you?"
"Aren't you?"
Michael and I stare at each other for a long moment, and his eyes soften the slightest amount. He leans forward, so close that I can smell his minty breath- who knew that Angels use Colgate?- and I stare at his arms as his lips brush my ear. "I'm not having fun yet, Miss Young, but I will be when I kill you."
I roll my neck around, trying to ease the stiffness.
"You know, I don't really undertand Angels." I say. "I mean, aren't they meant to be all kind and surrounded in white light and help people and stuff?" I ask, though my words come out slurred. I'm tired. Really tired.
"See, that's the problem with you mortals. You all think that we're here to protect you and look out for you and blah blah blah." Says Michael. "That's what we wanted to do in the beginning- make sure that every person on Earth had and Angel looking out for them. But we help you all out for millions of years without so much as a thank you! What's worse, we make sure that no one gets hurt and most humans don't even believe that we exist.You're ungrateful and you treat us like dirt and we're sick of it!" He bellows, slamming his fist down on the table. He breathes rapidly, and for a second my eyes widen.
"Wait wait wait, you mean to tell me, that Angels started the apocalypse because they were mad that humans don't appreciate them?" I ask in disbelief.
Michael shoots daggers at me with his gaze. "Penryn, why do you think that bad things happen to good people?" He asks me, and I shrug not knowing what this has to do with anything. "Think about it. Why do you think something awful could happen to someone who is nothing but good?" He asks again, and I shake my head.
"I dunno. It's life, I guess." My eyes are closing. There's no way I'll be able to stay awake for much longer.
"No it's not Penryn. Millions of years ago, when people actually aprreciated us, no one died by accident because all of the Archangels were there for them. Of course people were killed from sickness and old age because that actually is part of life- but work accidents and vehicle accidents, the Archangels were there and saw to it that those people healed. But these days, more and more people are getting hurt in car accidents and plane crashes, all because the loyalty from humans has stopped and the Angels are turning their backs. They don't want to protect people who aren't grateful anymore, so slowly Angels are stopped caring- just like humans have about Angels. The final Angel stopped caring on September eleventh." Michael trails off.
September eleventh- why is that date so familiar?
Of course.
It was the very first day of the apocalypse.
The day when the last Angel turned its back on mankind.