His mind racing, Eamon desperately tried to calm down as he stared at his reflection in the blood speckled mirror. On white, the walls of the room were splattered with his blood as it slowly dripped down from the ceiling onto the floor.

"Ugh…" He groaned as his head began to ache. Thousands of voice flooded through his thoughts and it felt like he was drowning in an endless sea of noise. He desperately gasped for air like a fish out water, trying to rid himself of the noise. Falling heavily onto his knees he crumpled, attempting to wait the noise out but it wasn't working.

"No… stop…please…" he muttered, wishing with all of his might for the racket that surrounded him to stop. It was voices. Voices praying, singing, talking. Hundreds upon hundreds all crammed into his head. And the pain! He heard screams of terror and of people who were dying before their time. Every scream seemed to run through his heart. It felt like he was dying with them.

"Poor Israfel…" a voice muttered as Eamon looked up though clouded eyes to see a young man with deep chestnut hair that was as messy as his, the bangs falling into his clear blue eyes. Dressed in pale cream robes he swiftly knelt in front of Eamon.

"My brother Gabriel told me to come…" he whispered, "Now please, stay quiet or else others will hear you and come!"

Eamon's vision was slowly coming into focus as he tried to find out where he knew the man's face from.

"Do not worry… You are free from that body, relax…" Eamon felt the visitor's rough hand pulling his face up so he could see him better.

"Who are you?" Eamon managed to gasp out.

"Michael… Now calm down and I will hide these wings for the time being, until you learn to do so yourself… I must go, farewell my brother…" and in a blinding flash of white light he was gone.

Eamon collapsed on the floor, his head colliding painfully with the cheap, blood stained carpet. When he opened his eyes again the room was clean, his wings were gone and all that were left of the visitor was a long, pure white feather that seemed to glow. Groaning as his body ached, he pulled himself off the ground, exhausted and still weak from the pain he had just endured. The voices were gone; his head blissfully clear of any sound except his own quiet thoughts.

"EAMON?" Christopher's voice called out as she banged her fist upon his door while wiping tears away with her other hand.

"What?"

"Are you still asleep! I'm coming in!" she exclaimed as she threw the door open to see Eamon standing unsurely on his legs, as if threatening to fall.

"Christopher?" he asked, unsure as she raced forward to catch him as he fell to the ground again, his legs collapsing from underneath him, his eyes closing…

Eamon found himself standing in a forest clearing, clutching the body of the young woman named Maria close to his chest. He was once again dressed in the heavy white robes and his chin rested on the scarf that she had wrapped around her hair.

"Israfel…" she whispered softly, her arms twining around his chest, pulling them closer together.

"Maria…" he muttered as she looked up at him with tear filled eyes. Suddenly his body moved forward, against his own will and his lips gently brushed against hers.

"Please… don't leave me again…" she whispered, pulling him closer to her, tears still rolling down her face.

"Why would I leave you?" he asked gently when he heard someone step up behind him…

Christopher held Eamon gently, letting his head rest on her shoulders, secretly enjoying the warmth that he gave off. His face seemed so serene as he lay there, so calm. The corners of his mouth were just barely turned upward in a small smile, making a warm blush creep across Christopher's face.

"Eamon…" she whispered…

Eamon suddenly looked around as the forest dissolved around him, his arms closing on nothing as Maria faded into the shadows that suddenly surrounded him. The only thing he saw was a young woman happily holding a gleefully gurgling baby in her arms. Her hair was falling softly in wisps around her face, framing her small features and he nearly cried. The woman was his mother.

"Oh Eamon, you are going to be meant for great things…" she whispered to the child and Eamon wanted to rush forward to reach his mother but his legs wouldn't obey him.

The two dissolved in front of him to be replaced with the most horrifying memory that Eamon had…

Suddenly Eamon screamed, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands flailing out, colliding with Christopher. Wincing from the pain that spread away from each blow but she held on, clutching the young man to her.

"Shush… please… you're okay…" she whispered in his ears as she began to wonder what was scaring him so much.

A young boy of around 8 years was crumpled to the floor, sobbing. Bright, messy red hair fell into his face, covering his eyes so he could no longer see the scene before him. Laying just a foot away from the child was the young woman with wispy brown hair, her body covered in blood that had finally stopped flowing from the large hole in her chest. Her face was everlastingly suspended in a look of sadness, large green eyes half open, tears still falling onto the ground.

Eamon wished he could have rushed forward but all he could do was stand there, frozen, silently crying. Lying just a bit away was his father, a slight man who always needed glasses or else he was blind. Addicted more to books than exorcisms he was the man that raised Eamon to love literature. Four slash marks were carved into his body, his throat cut open for all to see.

"Eamon…" he heard a voice whisper as the horrifying image slowly dissolved away and all he could hear was a female voice that seemed all to familiar. It was Christopher's.

"Eamon… please…please wake up…" her voice whispered and slowly he felt himself drifting out of his sleep…

"Come on Eamon…" Christopher whispered as Eamon's eyes slowly flickered open, his intense sapphire eyes staring at her face and she nearly cried.

"Ugh… you're choking me…" he muttered, shoving the girl off of him.

"HEY! I was just worried!" she cried back, now upset for a whole new reason.

Eamon just rolled his eyes heavenward though he was secretly enjoying her hugging him.

"I'm fine… just get off!" he groaned as she let go.

"Is he okay?" Christopher looked over to see Rosette standing in the doorway as Eamon tried his best to stand on still shaking legs.

"I said I'm fine!" Eamon spat as his legs finally stopped shaking so violently and he just sighed, grateful that he wasn't blacking out!

"You weren't just a minute ago!" Christopher retorted, any fuzzy feelings for him long since gone.

"What happened?"

Chrono had stepped into the doorway, illuminated by the windows that were across from the small room.

"This arse passed out and is trying to say it's not a problem!" Christopher exclaimed, quickly standing.

"I'm fine! How many more times do I need to tell you this!"

"Fine? Don't you dare say you're fine!"

Eamon looked tersely at his partner. Her hands resting on her small hips she looked rather upset, but why should that bother him?

"FINE! Do what you want! See if I care!" she cried out, storming out of the room. Rosette and Chrono hurried out of the girl's way, not wanted to piss her off.

The door to Eamon's room slammed shut behind her and with that she quickly let her legs carry her until she was out somewhere in the middle of a lush green field. Angry winds whipped around her, tugging at her skirt and hair, biting into her skin with icy teeth. Above her was a dark sky, gray clouds moved across the vast heavens above in the same slow pace, as though a slave driver's drum beat them along their steady ways.

"That man!" she screamed out to the skies, as though someone was listening.

"What man?" a familiar, chilly voiced asked. As she spun around to face the speaker she saw a painful sight of Rael, standing there smugly, arms crossed over his chest. Still dressed as impeccably as ever, he wore a blood red over coat and khaki pants. His platinum hair didn't seem to be fazed by the wind, unlike hers, which was dancing around her body in a frenzy.

"YOU!"

"Me?"

"Yes… you."

Christopher's mind began to race as the frightening young man slowly made his way towards her, his polished shoes crushing the soft emerald blades of grass. Christopher slowly turned away from him and began to run, not wanting to fight. Wind whistled in her ears and pushed her hair away from her face, letting it reach out behind her, lingering where she once was.

"Do you think you can escape me… mutt?" he asked coolly, following her, matching her step for step.

"No! I don't! But I can at least buy myself some time!" she replied, pushing herself to go faster, the blood pounding past her ears.

"How naïve…" he muttered as slowly he caught up to her, the distance between them was being eaten by his long legs. "Hmpf… learn to die!" he cried out as she felt something tear at her left arm. A fine mist of blood sprayed into the air to be whisked away by the wind. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as something kept tearing at her skin and dress, until she finally stopped running, crumpling onto the grass. Try as she might, her body would not move.

"Poor baby… you're wings are being clipped… you can't run, what will you do now?" he asked her quietly as he walked up behind her, his strong hands grasped painfully onto her shoulder. Fingers dug into the deep cuts, ripping the edges of the skin, making her cry out in pain.

"To think Israfel would choose you to help him… you're not a full devil! Which pathetic spawn of darkness brought you to this world!" Rael's hand grasped onto the top of her head, pulling back so she could face him. Tears rolled down her face from pain and terror and as he raised his hands to kill her, terrified eyes watched. Her body still not responding he smirked and his hand started to glow in a pure white when suddenly he stopped and looked at the part of his hand that had touched her skin… it was burnt and bleeding.

"You not… HIS daughter… are you?" he asked cautiously, pulling his hand away, looking at the charred fingers…

Rosette and Chrono were already in the mess hall, happily munching on their food when Eamon finally emerged from his room and sat down, biting angrily into a soft white bun. The table seemed to be consumed with an odd, awkward silence until the doors to the mess hall opened and someone walked casually up to their table. He was a young man who couldn't be more then twenty years old. Soft, ginger colored hair fell to about his shoulders, pulled back with an old hair tie. Dressed in shabby clothing, it would seem that he had been traveling for quite some time. His baby blue eyes scanned across the table and then finally rested onto Eamon.

"You…" the man breathed and Eamon looked over, shocked to see the young man.

"…" Eamon could not find the right words and still stared at the man who had just arrived.

"I am supposed to deliver this…" the man explained, then reached into the large messenger bag that was slung over his shoulders, and fished out an old leather tome, covered in thick, dirty linen. Eamon stared at the book, along with everyone else at the table…

Rael reached forward to choke Christopher, but as soon as his skin touched hers he pulled away, screaming in anguish and slowly Christopher got to her feet, a cold smirk slowly making it's way across her face.

"Angel… you dare try to hurt me?" she asked in an odd voice, it was rough, as though talking hurt her. Each word cut at Rael like a knife. She slowly raised her hand to kill him….

-there we go. Sorry it took so long to update! Bye!