Chapter II
Story inspiration: ShaDeu4 & be happy50
When I awaken, I feel someone shaking me.
I open my eyes to see Christina hovering over me, eyes wide.
"Beatrice! You're awake!" She shouts, wrapping her arms around me in a shriek. I groan, remembering my introduction to Four Eaton, and how he used his powers on me to allow myself to be intimidated.
On a positive note, I have my first mark.
"How long was I out?" I ask, curious. Usually, when an angel's veins has been physically touched and corrupted by a devil, especially a high one, it usually takes an angel two to three hours to recover, possibly four.
"Three minutes," she says, her expression as shocked as I suspected my own to be.
"It's a miracle, Beatrice" Susan says, speaking up. "We were about to take you to the nurses office, but you woke up."
Luckily, before any other speculation can be made, the school bell rings and we make our way into class; I can't shake the feeling that I recovered in three minutes. Only a devil had the capability of recovering that quickly, and even for them recovery expectancy was half an hour to an hour. Shaking my head, I reluctantly make my way into class to see, unsurprisingly, an angel teaching.
"We've got an angel as a teacher? W o w," Four snorts, gaining a few laughs from his friends. I watch as he waves at the teacher slyly, earning a scared expression from her. Personally, I have to refrain myself from laughing and am quick to scold myself.
I need to behave; I'm an angel; I need to act like an angel.
The smirk on Four's face is soon to disappear as soon as he sees me walk in, a full smile plastered on my face as I place myself down next to Christina - two rows from him. Quickly composing himself, his trademark smirk all too soon reappears on his lips.
"Have a nice sleep, Angel?"
I grin back at him. "It was wonderful, thank you. A whole three minutes."
"You're just weak; you're lucky I only touched you." He glares; he and I both know he's lying; he and I both know angels should not remark back to devils.
Christina interrupts our converse by putting her hand over mine.
"Don't let him bother you, hon! You were braver than any of us could have been, right girls?" Automatically, the others nod their heads, their eyes not leaving Four's.
"Silence!" The angel says, her soothing voice only raising slightly. After a few murmurs, even the devils calm down.
"I am going to be your teacher for the next six weeks," she declares, looking over each one of us carefully. "You will have me the first two hours of the day, and then you will have your human lessons for the remaining four."
Groans from devils erupt around the room while the angels somewhat cheer in response.
"Every morning, you will be faced with a challenge; if you're an angel, against a devil, and if you're a devil, an angel."
"Stating the obvious," Four murmurs, grumbling slightly - by his facial expression I can tell he's as oblivious as the rest of us.
"The first paring will be Christina, angel; Uriah, devil" Laughter flows around Uriah and sympathy around Christina; we were all expecting a long six weeks, but nothing like this was anticipated.
"Al, angel; Lynn, devil."
"Will, angel; Marlene, devil."
The rest of the name calling proceeds in silence; devils in clear irritation of the angels they're being placed with and angels in fear of the devils they'll have to put themselves in association with.
As the name calling develops further, fear grows inside me as mine is yet to be called. When I make and estimation that only I and another student are yet to be spoken - fear grows inside me; I should have expected this from the beginning.
"Beatrice, angel; Four, devil."
Four's laughter is the remedy to the classes silence, the laughter so full of venom all angels in the class shiver.
"Beatrice?" He snarls, "Sounds like I am dealing with an old woman, going to be easy"
"Not if I have anything to do with it," I growl without thinking, causing a black mark to appear on my arm and a scream to escape my lips.
"Beatrice!" Christina snaps, fear in her eyes. "Behaviour!"
I sigh, trying to calm the fear raging inside of me down; a black mark, what on earth does that mean?
"Looks like I won't have to destroy you, Angel" Four condones, craning his face upwards to see my black mark on my arm. "You're already doing that yourself."
Studying me for a few more seconds, he frowns, as if going to say something but quickly decides against it and turns his attention back onto the teacher.
"You're first challenge today is getting to know your challenger; angels, you need to learn to be confident around devils - and devils, you need to learn to respect angels."
"I won't be respecting anyone" The boy I remember to be named Uriah mutters, earning a high five and a grin off Four. The matching grin Four receives back clearly shows the pride earned from gaining someone like Four's approval; then again, Four is weeks away from possibly being head devil.
"You all have the remaining hour and a half to introduce yourselves and try to tolerate each other," She states, her tone obvious she was expecting a somewhat remark off a devil; "Get started, please"
I slowly approach Four, my instincts and sub-conscience clearly afraid of him in both my posture and glare; in a matter of minutes, he has been my saviour of my first mark and a poison of my first black one - and why am I, an angel anomaly, against the evilest devil possible?
"Please, do sit down" he encourages, flaunting his arm to the seat next to him and moving it ever so slightly. "I'd love to know more about my contender."
I risk the urge to growl at him, pulling the chair out rather vigorously and sitting myself next to him abruptly.
"Feisty one, aren't you?" He observes, his face once again pointing to the skies. "Angels aren't supposed to be feisty."
"Devils aren't supposed to observe angels," I snap back, desperately trying to keep my voice somewhat even.
"Angels aren't supposed to answer back." He reminds, voice growing deeper and eyes darkening; somehow, his eyes remind me of the night sky, and how much it has always calmed me as a child although it shouldn't have. I sigh, concluding the end of our rival which should have never originally happened.
A smirk grows back on his lips. "Well, I suppose you already know who I am. The scandalous Four; only son of Marcus Eaton. You may address me as sir, your highness, etcetera."
I snort at him. "Such a shame you're not God, I suppose – I don't have to refer you to anything of the sort."
He winks at me, "You never introduced yourself, dear."
Withholding my anger, I contain every fraction of distain in my body not to spit at him; he was doing this on purpose, I was clearly aware, but the fact that he was winking at me pulled at my hormones in a way it never should; angels were never permitted to wink at each other, ever. It was illegal. It was considered inappropriate and irrelevant; he knew this.
"Beatrice Prior. Average angel. Not high, not low; if you were expecting to be placed with an extremely high angel you've been mistaken." His eyes lighten at the mention of my last name and panic rises inside of me – how could he possibly recognise my last time? My father's on the council, but he wasn't exactly well-known.
"Prior?" He asks, snarling. "You're Natalie Prior's kid?"
"Yes," I reply quickly, my heartbeat beginning to rise if I'd just been running. Of course, I'm never permitted to run much, but I've never been one to follow the rules.
"My father's mentioned her." He spits, a growl deep in his throat.
"How would you father know my mother?!" I exclaim, the thought ludicrous.
"She's the woman who persuaded my mother to become an angel, the stupid cow."
"Wait, Evelyn Johnson's your mother? But she's-"
"One of the kindest people you know?" He interrupts, his tone mocking. "Of course; the bitch wasn't meant to be a devil – I'd always preferred my father over her, anyway."
That's the problem with our society – you hear about devils all the time, not really meant to be where they were born, their true identity being hidden from them until they see angels and realize who they really are inside, but you never hear the event happen to an angel. Ever. I suppose evil is truly born, not made.
"Beware, Beatrice Prior; you've given me yet another reason to want you gone."
And with that – the bell rings, signalling a break – but I am unable to shake Four's words out of my mind; Four Eaton has marked that he wishes me gone, the days I have on earth are becoming numbered.