Of Demons And Men Ch. 01

Looking back at him she asked; "Neat trick butta... How's this supposed to convince me?"

'It's not," he replied. "Hold your breath or not, it makes no difference."

"What?"

"This will hurt. Forgive me."

Her perch on his left forearm, without a hint of a warning whatsoever, flung her high into the air, giving her an immediate reminder why she needed her wings back so badly. Such abuse was rather normal, even expected coming from a demon but never in her wildest dreams did she expect it from an angel too. An involuntary shriek ripped itself from her throat but was choked off when he caught her there with one hand.

Panic surged through as she felt him draw her back past his shoulder, then savagely slam her into the ball of water so hard it left her stunned. He was right, it did hurt and a burning hate for him easily found its way into her heart. She wasn't even at liberty to scream her worth with the way he gripped her. She clawed at his fingers, frantically kicking her legs. He held her in place though; steadily without much visible effort, if any at all.

Through blurred vision she distantly noted something in his right hand, metallic and long. His grip loosened enough for her to breathe, only for her to be choked by the liquid surrounding her. Her lungs burned for the air she was so cruelly deprived of. So much she started to see the dark flashes in her eyes associated with lack of oxygen.

It served painful memoriam of what she hated most about this place. The mercy of passing out or death didn't exist. You have no other option but to endure every single bit of torture you were put through regardless of how many times over it could kill a live person.

'But at least the demons are decent enough to give us a chance to beg for mercy!'

Then something unexpected happened. Something that was not supposed to. She thought herself insane when her ears heard distant voices. Voices of laughter with music playing in the background, fading in and out as she became less and less in touch with the painful reality in front of her. A blue tint gradually lit up the darkness she saw with every flash.

Her body had stopped its protest for air but she still struggled to stay awake, trying to make sense of how it was even possible she felt like she was about to fall unconscious. She registered Sabrael's arm lowering, after another flash of consciousness she heard a splash. Her eyes just barely split open just in time to watch him push a sword right through her torso. Millions of tiny air bubbles fizzed out and her view was painted maroon. She could taste the blood forcing its way up throat as he pushed his blade deeper. The sound of ribs cracking was distinctly audible and at that moment the only thing going through her head was 'why?'

Yet even that thought threatened to be drowned out by the sounds surfacing all around her. Over nine-hundred years and she'd never been treated to a dream or hallucination yet this one, this particular one seemed even more real than the sword lodged through her chest. Why was it that all her senses seemed to be taking part in it?

It wasn't just the voices. With every flash she could see a little bit more of the new environment, she could hear the music more clearly and she could even smell the remnants of a barbeque. In the end she couldn't even tell if the flashes were those of the room she currently stood in, or the water she was drowning in.

Even the pain in her chest wasn't as notable anymore. Her head felt just as light though. As a result she stumbled forward, struggling for purchase of anything and everything she could get a hold of. Her hand brushed something wooden and cold. It was immediately recognised as a source of stability, to hell with whatever was on it.

Something brittle shattered in the background followed by another. She collapsed onto her knees, back against the vanity struggling to catch her breath. She couldn't feel any water anymore, neither was there a gloved hand around her throat. Her vision came too slowly as the throbbing in her head ebbed away.

Her hand was clasped onto a drawer handle, slightly pulled ajar. Beside her she saw a broken lava lamp on the floor its content's spilt on a grey carpet. Next to it were sketch pads and art stationery alongside with it.

"Sa- Sabrael," she weakly called out. Her voice was so hoarse and scratched she barely recognised it as her own. There was no response.

Looking around the moon lit room she made out a disheveled bed, chest of drawers, built in closet and a couple of clothes shrewn about the floor.

She swore as she forced herself back onto unsteady feet, a hand still on the vanity for balance.

"Sabrael," she called out more clearly, "I know you can hear me."

But more of the same. Was he purposely ignoring her? Or did he intentionally leave her stranded in full knowledge that he hadn't so much as bothered to brief her on her objectives or environment. What year was it? Whose room was this? Whose...

'Whose body am I in?'

The moment she caught sight of the mirror, she could do nothing but stand frozen at the sight of what stared back. The scarred and calloused red skin, the burning red eyes, the flame charred hair, it was as if it had never been there before.

'What did you do to me?'

Theo hadn't even felt herself move, she most certainly didn't remember giving her body the command, but before she knew it, she was bent over the counter and practically breathing against the glass whilst examining every feature of herself. This was definitely her face, yet at the same time, it wasn't. Not with skin this near flawless.

A hand ran through the wavy disorganised mess that was her hair. It just bordered on being blond from the light brown shade it took. But what entranced her most were the eyes that gave off a striking resemblance to sapphires with the way they glistened, even in the dark.

Two knocks resounded from the bedroom door jerking her back to reality in a panicked frenzy. She looked around for any viable hiding place. One thing she knew didn't sit well with anyone, regardless of timeline, people did not bode well with trespassers.

"Theo sweetie? Is everything alright?"

'What. In. The. Fuck.'

There was a moment given for a reply but the addressee was just far too stunned to formulate a valid response.

"I heard noises so I thought I'd come up and check on you. It's been half an hour, you okay in there?" a genuinely concerned voice asked. It was definitely female and sounded elderly.

'The hell did Sabrael do exactly?!'

"Theo?" The knock came again but louder this time, "I know you're in there."

'... The fuck is she? How does she know who I am?'

"Theo!" She persisted. The door handle rattled but didn't open, indicating it was locked.

"I'm fine!" she shouted back, in a startled voice, hardly convincing. "I'm okay, it's... I just broke... Look I'm alright, I'll be right down. Sorry to make you worry."

Another pause followed implying whoever it was on the other side of the door wasn't convinced.

"Well... Consider hurrying it up then. The present's aren't gonna open themselves you know. Oh, and FYI, your father's getting impatient. He still thinks you don't know about the car."

'The hell is a car? Okay, that's it. I'm done. I need some effing answers before I go crazy.'

Theo looked around the room for a source of information. A diary, a calendar, map, anything. She opened drawers and ruffled through them haphazardly. Then switched her attention over to the closet. Clothes flew about to no luck. Anything that was in tidy condition before was left in a mess and she was no closer to discovering anything about the owner of this body before her besides hobbies and fashion choices.

"Who were you!" she screamed in frustration, gripping and pulling on her hair with both hands.

A flashing light in her peripheral vision caught her attention. It was coming from a wall mounted desk on the other side of the room.

Her feet trailed towards it cautiously, maneuvering around the items decorating the floor. It was flat and rectangular by the looks of it, silver in colour. She crouched down to be eye level with the object to examine it. Out of curiosity she ran a hand over the cold metallic surface, right down to the side.

'A... book?'

She took a breath before pushing the laptop open. Her eyes widened at the revelation of the life she'd stolen. Guilt racked her in ways that a devil should not have to feel. She could never accomplish this should she live to be a million.

The date was set to April the tenth 2015 in the bottom right corner. A silent alarm flashed on the center of the screen reminding her of her twenty first birthday. Behind that were images galore of her current human form alongside other people you could not pay her enough to recognise. She actually seemed... happy and in some instances downright ecstatic with both goofy and flirty expressions worn on her pretty features.

'Is... Any of this real..?'