IMPORTANT A/N AT THE END.
MPOV
It had been centuries since my last fight, but the instinct never left me. Even then, just sheathing my celestial blade inside my ancient battle robe, I could feel the surge of adrenaline and power being whisked through my veins. Around me, the other angels were preparing as well, everyone garbed in the proper ensemble, faces drawn with solemn recognition. Banded together like this, we would be stronger than ever. However, there was still a seed of doubt that even now we would not possess enough power to defeat Michael. Especially after all these centuries of him doing nothing but growing stronger and stronger….
Fang's hand rested on the curve of my hip, pulling me close to him. I shook my head clear of desolate thoughts and turned so that I could wrap my arms around his neck. Drawing him down, I planted a tender, lingering kiss on his lips and leaned into his ear.
"I love you," I whispered.
His arms wound around my waist tightened, as if he had no intention of ever letting go. "I love you, Gabrielle."
Untangling from each other, we joined hands and faced the grim faces of our brothers and sisters. In the unspoken tradition, we all bowed our heads in prayer and respect, savoring these last moments of peace. When we all looked up again, everyone had on their game face, hands twitching towards the hilts of their swords.
"My prayers are with you all. Fight hard, and with the virtues from which you derive." I beamed, trying my hardest to warm the atmosphere. "Let out victory be swift!" I only got a few weak smiles, but it was enough to cheer me up a little. Donning the hood of my robe, I strode for the door, muscles tense, heart floundering.
Outside, the forest had acquired the eerie silence that came along with the chill of winter. As we slept last night for what very well may have been the last time, a blanket of snow had layered the ground. My combat boots crunched quietly over the snow; the skirt of my robe dragged the prints away. There would be no evidence of this fight, that we had to be sure of. Though the trees were stripped bare, no moonlight was shining down upon us. It was as if the clouds were trying to shield the eyes of heaven by congesting the sky as much as they could.
With a curt jerk of my head, Angel came forward and took my place leading the group—she was the only one who would know where Michael would be waiting. She strode with a confidence that said she wasn't bothered by what was about to occur, but I knew her better than that. I could see in the way her eyes tilted slightly down at the corners that she was bearing a deep sadness inside her. Again, I was struck at how strong she was, to have so much taken away from her, but still be able to hold her head high.
At last, we broke through a copse of trees and stepped into a clear area where many people went to chop down trees for firewood. At first, we were subjected to standing there with a stale, uncomfortable breeze blowing at us, but then he revealed himself. There was a cease of breath by all; my muscles tense, waiting. As if appearing out of thin air, Michael strode out with complete nonchalance, hands stuffed deep inside the pockets of his pressed suit.
"An army full of Archangels," he observed. His emerald eyes zeroed coldly in on Angel, accusing. "How quaint."
I placed a hand on Angel's shoulder, signaling her to fall back to allow me to come forward; Fang stepped up beside me.
"Did you honestly believe we would not fight? You know we take our duty seriously," I said.
His lips twitched. "Ah, Gabrielle." Abruptly, he was right in front of me, claws extending to draw scarlet ribbons of blood down the length of my neck. "Of everyone here, you were the only I enjoyed killing the most."
Before I even had the chance to react, Fang grabbed hold of the back of his suit and launched him flying through the air until he slammed into the trunk of a tree, splintering the bark in half. Together, they collapsed into the snow—Angel cringing at the loss of her beautiful nature—and then silence wrapped around us again. Smearing the back of my hand down my neck, I found it almost entirely covered with the gleaming substance. Fang was still as stone beside me.
Suddenly, there was a chuckle as Michael struggled to stand. Then the chuckle bloomed, getting louder and more boisterous by the second. By the time he was standing again, he had his head thrown back with maniacal laughter.
"Fools!" he shouted, stance wide, arms in the air. The ground began to shudder beneath our feet, tremors spreading throughout the forest. Confused, we all shared an uneasy glance. "As if, after all these years, I would not have anticipated this day!"
All at once, heinous screeches and thundering roars filed the air as a horde of demons came rushing at us. All blades were drawn instantly, just as the first wave attacked with a relentlessness that was characteristic of the hell creatures. They were difficult to kill, engineered to rival the Archangels before we managed to entrap them all in hell. Once in a while, a few may escape that we have to take care of, but this…this was a wall of slobbering, wolf-like beasts, clawing grackles, and fire-breathing, eyeless tigers. If it was difficult to kill just one of these creatures…how were we supposed to defeat an entire mob?
"Feast, my precious ones," Michael called above the noise. Guffaws of laughter were still tumbling past his lips. "These so-called angels are your reward for being so loyal to me."
With a roar, my muscles uncoiled into a spin that sent my blade colliding into a tiger's thickly corded neck. Combined with my anger and the full force of my inhuman strength, the celestial blade went through the tendons and bone as if it were butter. The head rolled across the dry earth.
With a blind rage, I flew around the ambush, connecting my blade with anything in my path. Head after lifeless head clunked to the ground, black blood staining the pure white of my robe with the ghosts of death. Even so, the monstrous waves of these devils never stopped. As I looked around, I saw every single one of the angels were fighting as brutally as me, yet we hadn't even made a dent in the demons. It was as if, as we were getting worn out, the demons just kept multiplying, crawling up from some unseen portal of hell.
It was in that moment that I realized my fate—all of our fates. Our memories and life would fade away in this field before the sun rose again, of that I was certain. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to try.
FPOV
Once, when life was simpler, and I still resided in Heaven, I was having tea with Milday when she mentioned fallen angels. Back then, I had a mind that was far too curious for my own good; I wondered aloud what could possibly get an angel damned. Surprisingly, she entertained my thought.
"There are many crimes that an angel can commit that will get an angel in trouble with me," she had said, "but there is only one way to damn one: take your celestial blade and drive it in his heart." She pressed her fist against the steady pulse in my chest. "Chaînes enfer contraignantes entrent toi. Coup de grace. Say that, and forever will they be bound."
At the time, I thought she was just divulging one of the many mysteries of our race to me. But standing there in the forest with demons snapping at me and talons tearing into my skin, I had to wonder if she could predict the future. Did she somehow know that I would be in this situation now, fighting not only for my life, but for the lives of all the people I love most, with no way out? The feeling of desolation settled like a cold stone in the pit of my stomach as I whipped my blade around in a wide arch and pierced straight through the abdomen of a screeching grackle.
The onslaught of these demons would not stop unless Michael was removed from the equation. He was too far away though, surrounded by rows and rows of these creatures that only multiplied after one of their brethren were slaughtered. Michael was completely untouchable, while my family's energy was being sucked completely dry.
With a grunt, I just barely blocked the gnashing teeth of a wolf before thrusting my sword straight into its mouth. The blade came out through the other side, glinted once in the pale moonlight, then was yanked back out. The wolf sagged like a ragdoll at my feet.
Huffing out a frustrated breath, I wiped at the sweat beading at my brow with the back of my hand, grateful for the momentary reprieve in the onslaught. How many was that now? Twenty six within the past ten minutes, yet the mob was still too powerful for us to defeat. If I didn't think of something soon, we would be taking our final breaths that night. But what…?
Absently, my mind drifted to that day, drinking tea with Milady as we discussed fallen angels. The thing about fallen angels, she had explained to me, was that they were impossible to kill outside of their habitat. Therefore, in order to kill one, you must chain them in Hell and ask Lucifer to deal with it. It would be easy enough to utter the words that would condemn Michael to his death—if we were in any other situation besides this one. Michael was logical in his attack strategy; he managed to raise enough demons so that we would be overwhelmed, but he would not be left unguarded. Two bands of snarling demons encircled him as he gleefully watched our pathetic defeat, leaving me absolutely no break to reach his heart.
Cursing, I urged myself to sift further into my memories, searching for any other hints Milady may have dropped that would aid me, but there were none. The only way we were going to survive this battle was if Michael was securely bound in hell, relieving his control over the demonic beasts ravaging us. And for that to happen….
Across from me, my eyes locked grimly on the girl I loved as she whipped around in a perfect flurry of onslaught that merely took my breath away….
There had to be sacrifices.
MPOV
I felt nothing but the pure, unadulterated rage that consumed me from the inside out. My breaths were calm, heartbeat steady, and I had no thought in my mind other than the will to kill everything in my path. Even so, the weariness of my muscles was a constant perturbance in the background, reminding me that time was running out. Just thinking about what the future held made the grip on my sword slick with sweat.
Out of nowhere came a slight brush at my elbow. Instinctively, I whirled to clash my scarlet-stained blade into the demon that dared touch me, but I halted at the last second, my grip loosening so much that I nearly dropped my sword altogether. Fang, standing in front of me with the barrier in his mind completely absent for once, was radiating adoration as he gazed sadly at me.
Fang. My mind instantly reached out to him as my eyes scanned for fatal wounds. What are you doing? Are you okay?
I'm fine. His eyes wistfully traced the planes of my face. I have to tell you something.
I squinted, wondering if he had suffered any sort of brain trauma. Now?
Reaching for me, Fang crushed me into his chest, tucking my head under his chin. My sword fumbled, dropping to the snow as I returned the unexpected embrace, clutching him hard enough to hurt. So he had realized the same fate. This would be the last time I was going to fight alongside my soulmate; the last time I would feel his lips press against the crown of my head, as they did then.
It's not time to give up yet, I thought to him fiercely. Not until—
Completely ignoring me, but still keeping one arm firmly secured around my waist, he drove his celestial blade deep inside the hard earth. And then he cried out, as if speaking not just to us on earth, but to heaven and hell alike.
"Chaines enfer contraignantes entrent toi. Coup de grace!"
My eyes widened with a sudden horror that clawed at my heart. I recognized those words: an ancient ritual used by all the angels in the Order to damn fallen angels. We had always planned to use it on Michael, but not like this. Without the celestial blade driven into the heart of the fallen angel, the ritual gets confused and damns anyone it can grab—starting with the wielder of the blade.
"I love you," he whispered right before tossing me to the side.
As I tumbled across the ground, clambering to get back to my feet, a tear opened up in the earth, rushing a poisonous path directly towards Fang. Startled and confused, angels and demons alike jumped back, trying their hardest to avoid the mouth of the tear. Fang was already halfway acorss the clearing, trying hard to beat the impossible speed of the ritual.
"No!" I leapt for him, but was instantly with the threat of the rupture as if ripped furiously past me. Dropping uselessly to the small square inch of safe ground I was confined to, I beat my fists into the ground as cries strangled their way out from my throat.
It wasn't how movies would portray it. Usually, everything gets all slow, and you're forced to watch in agonizing tension as the climax of the action finally hits. I wish I was blessed with as much. Instead, it all happened so quickly that I could hardly even grasp the details no.
With a breath-taking grace, Fang leapt into the air, arms reaching out as far as they could—not for safety from the ritual—but for Michael, who was desperately trying to escape the warpath. It was futile, though. Not even five seconds passed before Fang's arms were around Michael's neck—and then the ground crumbled beneath them completely. Jaw set in that determined way of his, Fang plummeted down the mouth of the tear, clutching a roaring Michael the whole way. The entire mas of demons surrounding us went in after them, as if sucked in by some supernatural force. When the last demon was consumed, the earth zipped back up, leaving no trace of what just took place.
What was left in the wake of that ritual was nothing but numbness and stale air. A ringing consumed my ears, trying to eat away at my consciousness. I clutched my head hard, as if that would make the piercing ring stop, and curled in on myself, burying my head in the shelter of my legs.
In, out…in, out. I tried desperately to get the erratic gasps of breath under control; they were beginning to make my entire frame quake. But every time I thought I had my breaths evened out, or the jumping in my heart lowered, I would think of Fang and what he just did to save us all, and I would have to start all over again. Fang. A shudder rippled out from the pit of my stomach.
Suddenly, there was a tentative touch at my shoulder. Peeking out, I stared blankly back at Ella's worried face. My whole family stood behind her, everyone's expressions marred with various doses of confusion and horror. Ella kneeled in the snow and placed her hand gently over mine; after a moment of hesitation, she grasped it firmly and smiled so softly that I couldn't help being reminded of when we were kids and our mother would disappear for days before returning with a massive hangover. We would sit in the dark of Ella's room, huddled under the shelter of the blankets, and just hold each other's hand silently. It was a gesture that told the other she wasn't alone, and certainly not done fighting yet.
As I squeezed her hand back, I felt my bottom lip begin to tremble pathetically. Ella moved to pull me in for a hug, but I jumped up, curling my hands into fists; my nails drew bloody crescent moons in my palms.
"How could he?" I shouted to no one in particular. Looking dejected, Ella recoiled below me and just watched as I vented. My body shook; my breaths came out in tiny pants. Suddenly, the legs beneath me felt like they were made of rubber. "How could he not have told me? I—I—" A sob choked me, and I hung my head as my eyes shut against the current of tears threatening to spill over. "It should have been me. It should be me trapped in hell, not…not…."
I couldn't even contain myself anymore; I collapsed into the snow and let sob after sob crawl its way out of me, hot tears melting the snow beneath my face. Around me, my entire family dropped down beside me, and suddenly everyone was embracing either me of each other, sending prayers and strength my way. But it was no use. I felt hollow, empty in every way possible. There was no pain that could compare in all my lives.
For hours, we stayed in that embrace as I tried—and failed—on multiple occasions to get my emotions under control. Eventually, I sobered up, the feeling of determination trickling into my veins and replacing the hollowness inch by inch. Fang was not dead—he was just trapped. And I would not stop trying to get him back until the day my breath ceases to exist.
Okay! THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER.
It's the second to last. And, yes, I am aware of the fact that it is completely different from the original ending I had planned and showed you guys in an earlier chapter. However, I came up with this ending a bit ago and I absolutely fell in love with it. It packed an extra punch that the other ending lacked. There will be an epilogue coming out next week, and in that I WILL ANNOUNCE THE WINNER.
What winner, you ask. Well, for being such lovely fans, I'm giving you guys an option.
A: I write a sequel that will follow Fang in hell.
B: I write a prequel that will go back to when the Archangels all lived in heaven.
C: I just end it here. End of story.
It's up to you guys from here. Based on popular vote, I will announce my decision in the epilogue of this.
See you guys in the last chapter! Make sure to review your choice!
Love,
Shiver.