Kurureenu's Gallery of Stuff and Words

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Kurureenu_Yurasu, Jul 12, 2014.

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  1. [​IMG]
    Duke. <3
    Creepy drawing. >D
    Photomanipulation. (Credits here: http://fav.me/d5gwlyd )

    Writing stuff is next.
  2. Short Story:
    Fallen Angel

    "You evil bastard!" the girl shouted as she quickly moving into a fighting pose. "You will pay!"

    The man chuckled and lifted his clawed hand, his eyes glowing at a fierce red. "And how do you think you can defeat me. You, a human, against me, a demon," the man replied with a smirk.

    The girl raised her dark brows and smirked. "You demon's make too many assumptions," she muttered as she closed her eyes and feathered black wings, almost the same shade of black as her dark hair, emerged from behind her. The girl turned a glare onto the man in front of her and grinned. "I'm not human. I'm an angel."

    "A fallen angel," the man whispered with wide eyes.

    "If you must use the technical term.-"

    "There's only one fallen angel that had survived with their wings and heavenly-ness," the man stuttered. "Y-you're... Ophelia."

    The girl smiled and nodded slightly. "Glad I'm well known. Now it's time for you to get what you had coming to you!" she shouted as she shot forward, a sword forming within her hand as she charged. Two blades connected when she met with the man. He smirked toward her and the girl just pulled back and rushed forward again. The man pushed her away with his blade, having the girl start to stumble backward but able to straighten herself out with the help of her trusty wings.

    "These souls are mine, girl, and no fallen angel is going to stop me from stealing them," the demon growled as he swung his sword toward the girl, only to have it bounce violently off her own.

    Ophelia stood up quickly and rushed up on the man again, this time catching him with a bit of surprise. "Not if you are going to be stealing the soul of someone I love!" she shouted as she stabbed her sword forward and into the demon's chest.

    The man shouted and quickly dispersed into a cloud of dust that floated away with the wind. Ophelia dropped her sword, that faded as soon as her touch had left it, and collapsed to her knees. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared up toward the darkened sky, thunder rumbling in the distance as the clouds threatened rain.

    "I saved your soul and many others, my love," she whispered. "Now you shall enter Heaven's gates. Yet I'm stuck on this earth for eternity!" Ophelia's fist made contact with the rocky soil beneath her, leaving her knuckles slightly bloodied. She stood back up, shaking off the blood that slowly oozed from her newest wound, that soon healed within seconds. The girl sighed and started to slowly walk away.

    I've fallen in love with a human, so I have fallen from Heaven. I am never to go back. she thought sadly as she disappeared within the foliage.

    Ophelia glanced up toward the little girl, not smiling in reply to the girl's smile. She saved the girl, hoping she'd go back home to her parents, who just so happened to be killed by the same demon that killed the one she loved. Ophelia didn't get why she was so happy all the time.

    "What are you smiling at?" Ophelia asked a bit too roughly. She was probably cranky from her aching wings that spread in the small area that she and the little girl were sitting in.

    The girl glanced back toward Ophelia, frowning for a little bit before giggling slightly. "I'm thinking about how much you looked like my mom from the pictures of her high school days," the girl replied.

    Ophelia blinked once, then again toward the girl's statement. She soon cracked a smile of her own. "I look like your mother when she was younger..." she murmured. It was funny to her. She had wings, how can she look like this little girl's mother so much?

    "Yeah... I always pictured her of having huge wings like yours. Except, I always pictured them white," the little girl replied. "Why are yours black?"

    "Well..." Ophelia started, staring up toward the ceiling that prevented her from looking up at the nighttime sky. "I'm a fallen angel. I fell down from heaven because I broke a rule that wasn't supposed to be broken. So I was sent back to earth."

    The little girl gasped lightly. "You fell down? What happened? What rule did you break?"

    Ophelia raised a dark brow toward the little girl and smiled gently. "Aren't you being a little too curious for a little girl?" she asked as she watched the girl shake her head vigorously. "Okay... I fell in love with a human, and he loved me back. God would never send his angels to hell, he loved many, many people too much for that. It was just too cruel. So, instead, he bound me to this earth."

    The little girl tilted her head curiously. Ophelia looked toward her, ready to hear the questions that were to come. "Who was the boy? Where is he now? Did he dump you?"

    Ophelia couldn't help but laugh a little bit toward her last question. He didn't dump her. He loved her too much, so much. That was definitely out of question and out of their thoughts because they knew they were perfect for each other. It's just that she died twenty years before he was born.
    "What's so funny?" the little girl asked.

    Ophelia shook her head and brushed a strand of the little girl's blonde hair out of her brown eyes. "Nothing. It's just that we loved each other too much for the thought of breaking up to ever come up anywhere between us. No... He died," the older woman replied, watching the little girl's face become questionable once again. "He died by the same person that killed your parents. I avenged him afterward and killed the demon, so there's no worry about him coming back around anymore."

    "But... but aren't there more bad people out there like him that can kill nice people?" the little girl asked. Ophelia nodded in reply to her question. "What are you going to do about it?"
    The older woman raised one of her dark brows once again and began to think. "I never thought about doing anything about it."

    "But you're an angel. You're supposed to protect good people from the bad people, right?"

    "I'm an angel. I'm just supposed to be dead right now," Ophelia replied unenthusiastically.

    The little girl shrugged toward her. "But, while you're here now, why don't you do something about it and protect others. Maybe if you showed how loyal you are to God himself, he could except you back."

    Ophelia flinched slightly toward the girl's words. How could she tell the girl that she was out of heaven permanently and that the only way that she could go back was to die... again? It was not that easy at all to kill an angel. Not even Hell's Fire can kill an angel. After being accepted as an angel in heaven once, that's it. You're practically invincible to everything unless something happens to turn yourself back into a human. There is such a thing as reincarnation, but the rarity of it makes people believe that it's false.

    "It's not that easy," Ophelia replied simply.

    "Why?" the girl instantly asked.

    The fallen angel sighed and shook her head. "Just go to sleep. We need to find you a place tomorrow," Ophelia murmured laying back on the cold stone floor and spreading out her wings. "Lay down on my wing. It'll keep you warm."

    The little girl did as Ophelia did, her long hair spreading across the surface of the black wing and creating quite the difference between the two. "May I ask one more thing?" the little girl asked.

    "You already did, but you can ask one more question," Ophelia replied with a smile, closing her eyes.

    "Can you be my guardian angel?"

    Ophelia's eyes widened slightly toward the girl's question. She was in no place to become a guardian angel. Usually those types of angels are instantly assigned to the person as soon as they were born. Some were unlucky enough to not have an angel and wouldn't live too long. That is where the people qualified to be a guardian angel came from. This little girl should have a guardian angel, but she was stripped of him when her parents were attacked by the demon. Ophelia couldn't say 'yes' or 'no' because there was no way at all that she could ever be a guardian angel. She was a fallen angel.

    "I cannot," Ophelia started. "But I will protect you."

    "What can wash away our sins? What can make us whole again? Nothing but the blood... Nothing but the blood of Jesus," Ophelia sung as she cut the vegetables for dinner. Charlotte sat at the counter, watching the fallen angel do her work since the woman didn't allow the girl to help her out cook at all.

    "Ophelia," Charlotte called gently as her eyes were practically stuck to the sight of Ophelia cutting the vegetables as she sung. Not too well either, so it was a relief to both when she stopped and glanced toward Charlotte as she continued to cut.


    The little girl glanced up toward Ophelia with that curious look, just like on that first day they were together. "Have you actually met Jesus?"

    Ophelia smiled gently and moved the vegetable that she was cutting to one side to cut some more. "I have, actually," she replied, pulling out a carrot and peeling the skin off it skillfully with the knife.

    "What is he like?"

    "Well," Ophelia started, pausing in her work to think as she gazed up toward the ceiling of their loft temporarily. "He's really calm and kind and he really does love everyone like they were his own children. I was waiting for him to pull out the wallet and show a million pictures because he spoke so much about how he loved everyone." The fallen angel chuckled slightly from the memory before continuing. "People expected the Prince of Heaven to be so... royal. He's way more casual. He doesn't mind it too much when people come up to him and bow down to him and address him kindly, but he'd rather everyone be themselves, approach him, ask for a high-five or a handshake or even a hug."

    Charlotte smiled. "He sounds awesome!"

    Ophelia nodded and placed her cut vegetables into the boiling pot of water next to her. "He is. God is awesome too, I mean, come on. He's actually like a father to everyone. He tried to go along with everything that was happening today like a real dad, but he decided to act like himself, since we preferred him that way. It was too funny," the woman chuckled.

    "Wow! I want to go to heaven!" the little girl exclaimed.

    "Everyone does. Be a good girl and live your life normally. Go to church every Sunday too. Except God especially. It's a beautiful feeling."

    "Sunday is tomorrow!" Charlotte exclaimed, receiving a nod from Ophelia. "Are we going to church?"

    Ophelia dished out some of the food and handed it to Charlotte. "Yes. We are definitely going."

    Charlotte grinned and put a spoonful of the food she was handed into her mouth. "Awesome!"

    "Yay! Church!" Charlotte exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air as the wind tugged at her hat, quickly pulling it off her head. "My hat!"

    Ophelia quickly caught it and placed it back on the little girl's head. "Be careful, Charlotte," the fallen angel murmured as the two approached the church doors. She glanced toward the girl to catch her excited smile before the two stepped inside, coming straight into the sanctuary.

    Charlotte gasped in surprise. "It's so big," she whispered to mainly herself.

    "Yeah," Ophelia replied, gazing around the area, not feeling one bit excited. This place doesn't feel like a regular church. Why is that? the fallen angel thought, trying to figure out why it doesn't feel like how it's supposed to feel.

    Safe. Warm. Amazing. It was nothing like that. The air was cold and stale and danger seemed to be lurking nearby. It did not feel one bit like a place that was blessed by God. The question is why?

    "Ophelia.... Ophelia," Charlotte called, soon getting the woman's attention. "Let's sit down. I think they're about to start.

    Ophelia swept her blue gaze around the room to notice that there were, in fact, people in the pews, waiting for church to start. The woman shrugged slightly and brushed off the feeling that this place wasn't safe. Maybe it was because it was new to her or something. "Let's sit down," she murmured, pulling Charlotte with her into the pew in the very back so the two can listen to the sermon that was to be said for today. The girl had to be constantly told to sit still because she was squirming so much from next to Ophelia. The woman kept glancing sideways to see the girl shifting into a new position or playing with the hem of her skirt or playing with that hat in her hands.

    After the service, the two were about to step out when the voice of the reverend stopped the two of them. "Hello, ladies. I believe you are new to our congregation, am I correct?" the man asked.

    Ophelia spun around toward the man quickly and quickly connected her gaze with his own. "Yes. I believe we are. Hello, reverend," she replied.

    "Well, don't be shy," the reverend started. "Introduce yourselves."

    Before Charlotte could speak up, Ophelia quickly started. "I am Ophelia and this is my niece, Charlotte. And I didn't find your name, reverend," the woman replied, trying her hardest to keep her voice calm and kind.

    "Gregory Lewis," the reverend replied. "Please, be free to come by tonight for evening service, miss. I bet the congregation would be ecstatic to see you here."

    Ophelia forced a nice smile. "I'd be glad to, but we must be going for lunch. Let's go, Charlotte," the fallen angel finished, taking the confused little girl's hand and pulling her away from the man quickly.

    "Ophelia, you're holding my hand too tight," the little girl cried soon, trying to tug out of Ophelia's grip.

    The angel quickly pulled her hand away from Charlotte's and looked down toward the girl with a small, apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry. We just needed to get out of there as fast as possible," the woman replied as she patted the girl's head gently.


    Ophelia quickly glared back toward where they just left. "That church... it's unsafe. The reverend is a demon," she growled, hearing a gasp from Charlotte. "Let's get you home. We can stop for something to eat on the way there." The angel held out her hand to the little girl and Charlotte nodded slightly before taking her hand.

    "Ophelia... Are you going to... to-

    "Kill the demon, yes. The people are in danger," the woman replied, gazing back down toward the little girl for a moment before they continued on. "Where would you like to eat?"


    Once again, Ophelia approached the steps, the sky darkening as the time became later. She thought back to at the loft, where she was talking to Charlotte before she left. "I trust you enough to leave you home alone. If anything thing happens, you have my cell number, okay Charlotte?" the angel has said to the little girl who nodded to Ophelia vigorously as her eyes were trained to the cartoons on TV.

    "Thank God for television," the woman murmured to herself as she stared at the sky, not able to see past the clouds thickly cover the stars and the moon. "You're still angry with me." The woman sighed and turned back toward the large doors that she and Charlotte had entered earlier that day.
    She was ready.

    Ophelia pulled at the doors, having them swing open quickly and banging open. She loved a noisy entrance sometimes. Especially since she wasn't in the mood to have to deal with 'demon trash'. She walked inside and looked up toward the podium, 'Reverend' Gregory Lewis standing up there with a large smile on his face as the rest of the congregation that was there that morning were sitting in the same places as earlier that day.

    "Great for you to join us, Ophelia," the man called to the girl. "Now, tell us, would you like to join the congregation?"

    Ophelia glared toward the man. "Drop it, Lewis. I know what you are," she growled angrily toward the man.

    Gregory Lewis's smile turned wicked as he chuckled lightly. "Oh you do?" he questioned before hopping right over the podium and rushing up to Ophelia. "Then why don't you join us?"

    "Not even if I'm stuck in the bottomless pits of Hell," the woman growled angrily. "I stick to God and Jesus Christ."

    "Oh don't give me that sort of shit," the demon growled angrily. "I have to hear enough of that every damned morning." Once he was finished talking, he pulled back a fist and quickly connected it to Ophelia's stomach with immense force, sending her backward and into the doors, that have closed at one point of time after Ophelia's loud entrance.

    "That's it..." the woman grumbled as she started to stand up, quickly recovering from the hit.

    Gregory Lewis's eyes widened at the girl standing up so soon, right after he punched her. A normal human would be out for the count and too injured to even get up. Then why is this woman standing up and glaring at him with not one once of pain. "W-what are you?"

    "For a demon," Ophelia started, "you're pretty stupid." As soon as her words left her lips, her wings shot out from behind her, the doors instantly bursting open because of the force of her wings appearing. She heard the gasp of the demon and chuckled lightly as she quickly held out her hand, her sword appearing within it. "Now I must vanquish you, demon."

    Eventually, the truly shocked demon regained his composure and glared toward the woman. "So you're a fallen angel. The only one that exists," he chuckled as he raised his hand. "Congregation! Get rid of this black winged demon that has been sent down from Heaven for her evil and malicious ways!"

    Everyone who were sitting in the pews, who didn't even move since her entrance, turned toward her all at once and stood up and filed out of the pews and headed toward her. Women, men, even the children, held expressionless faces as they all headed toward the woman, who couldn't fight them back. Ophelia dropped her sword and held up her hands peacefully as if to say that she comes unarmed.

    "People! Your reverend is a demon who has got you under his control! Please come to your senses and stop," Ophelia shouted, but to no avail.

    The demon laughed. "They can't hear you! They are under my complete control!" he hollered happily. "Now it's time for the only fallen angel in existence to fall to the people she was trying to protect!"

    Ophelia stayed silent for a moment to the demon's words and started to laugh. "You really think that I can fall to unarmed humans. I'm an angel. I am invincible to you demons," she said through her laughter. She held out her hand again and her sword quickly reappeared. "Now... what was I about to do?" Ophelia quickly jumped up into the air, using her wings to soar above the people and toward the demon. "You are vanquished!" she shouted as her sword plunged through his stomach and the demon disappeared into dust, just as the last one did.

    "W-where are we?" someone asked from behind her.

    "Are we in heaven? There's a girl with wings," another one pointed out.

    Ophelia spun around toward the congregation that used to be under the demons control and sighed. "You're all safe. Continue with your church going days," she murmured before jumping into the air once more and taking flight for the rest of the way home.

    Nighttime... Ophelia thought as she stared up at the cloudy nighttime sky once again, thinking of her time in Heaven, which seemed so short. The girl sighed as she looked back toward the sleeping girl, who had fallen asleep on the couch once again. Charlotte may have grown older during the many years that she had lived with Ophelia, but she never gotten out of sleeping on the couch. The angel had to act as her aunt at first, but now she could be the girl's older sister.

    The teenage girl shifted under the cover that Ophelia placed upon her before, her long hair falling into her face, as blonde as it was when they first met, but now about as long as Ophelia's. She had learned to fight demon's and now accompanies the angel when she needed to fight sometimes. The girl was extremely Christian now, all because Ophelia always brought her to church and told her about how it was in Heaven, no matter how many times the little girl already known about it.

    My love... I wish I can see you once again. I wish I could have you close to me again, but now you must live happily in Heaven and watch as I am forced to walk this Earth for all eternity.

    Her attention was brought to the horizon, feeling a difference in that direction and the angel quickly went back inside, snatching up the gun that belonged to the teenager and tossing it enough to where it woke her up when it landed. The blonde glanced down toward the all too familiar weapon and back toward Ophelia with tired eyes before she picked up the weapon and stood up, following after Ophelia as she went to get on her fighting outfit, which consisted of something short sleeved, open backed, baggy-like pants, with the only similarity of being black. Charlotte dressed into something a bit more casual, since she didn't have to dress for wings, being human. She placed on baggy jeans, in which Ophelia always disapproved of when the girl fought, and a normal t-shirt before she followed the fallen angel out of the apartment that they lived in for several years and went off to work.

    The demon was another normal weak demon, who seemed to be terrorizing a man, possibly in his lower-twenties, who held up a cross and threatened to splash the demon with Holy Water. Both girls quickly arrived, Ophelia letting Charlotte take a shot from the air to attract the demon's attention to them. Ophelia gently placed the girl on the ground as the demon seemed to put himself back together from the shot and turn a glare toward the girls, holding a glare in his red eyes. The familiar sword appeared in Ophelia's hand as she readied herself to use it against the demon. She charged forward, ready to strike him down quickly and easily like always, but the demon had surprised her by releasing a flurry of fire.

    The woman screamed from the pain of the fire touching her and quickly backed away, spreading her wings to keep the fire from reaching Charlotte as well. Once it was gone, Ophelia's new burn wounds soon started to heal, though slower than usual, it still healed much faster than a human's wounds could. She glared toward the demon with hatred, ready to strike again until she heard a gunshot. She knew Charlotte was right behind her, but that wasn't where the gun was fired from.

    With eye's wide, the demon clutched his chest and started to fall forward, quickly turning into dust as he done so. Once the demon was gone, it left behind the man, who blew the smoke from the top of his pistol before he put it in the holster.

    Ophelia's wings faded from her back, revealing Charlotte right next to her as the two both stared toward strange man. He was hold up a cross and threatening the demon with Holy Water earlier. Suddenly, he kills off the demon with a gun. Ophelia knew he wasn't a demon, but he was a human.

    "Who are you?" Ophelia asked, feeling no trust for this man, no matter what.

    The man looked up toward the two and dusted himself off. "I'm Michael Rales. May I ask who you two lovely ladies are?" he replied kindly.

    The angel raised a brow and began to walk away, trying to tug Charlotte along with her before the young girl quickly pulled her back to her spot.

    "I'm Charlotte, and this is my sister Ophelia," the girl answered, smiling in a friendly manner.

    "Charlotte!" Ophelia started. "You know better than to talk to strangers."

    Charlotte sighed and rolled her eyes. She has gotten a bit of an attitude lately. Ophelia had to check out her friends that she had been hanging out lately. "He introduced himself. He's not a stranger," the girl murmured casually, gesturing toward the man who was no watching us.

    Ophelia shook her head. "I don't care. Let's get going home, Charlotte," the angel suggested unhappily.

    The man finally decided to interrupt their conversation as he quickly said, "Do you know a place where I can stay?" He caught their sight and he chuckled nervously. "I'm not too familiar of the area."

    Charlotte quickly turned toward Ophelia and gave her a puppy-dog look, that looked so cute on the girl, but looked cuter when she was a child. That image always appeared in Ophelia's mind and always seemed to make her cave in. The angel sighed and shrugged her shoulders toward the girl, which always meant 'yes' in a begrudging way. The young girl smiled and clapped her hands together, turning back toward Brian. "You can stay with us!"

    "Ophelia! Where you going?" Charlotte called to the retreating angel as she flipped over the pancake on the stove.

    The fallen angel looked back toward the blonde, watching her cook the food for a moment. "I thought it was dinner time," she murmured with a small smile.

    Charlotte grinned slightly. "I like pancakes. Nothing is as fun as breakfast for dinner!" she exclaimed joyfully. "So... where are you going?" The girl watched as Ophelia shrugged her shoulders and reached for the doorknob, only to have the door fly open and hit her in the forehead.

    "I'm home!" Michael called, bringing in an armful of groceries. He glanced toward the angel, clutching her head and mumbling random words that were so far from curses. The man set down the bag and went to approach Ophelia. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Can I-"

    Ophelia stopped him by lifting a hand. "No. I'm okay, don't apologize, I'll be back in a bit," she murmured, rubbing her forehead and stepping out at last. She needed to visit his grave tonight. It was the anniversary of his death. The anniversary of the death of the demon that took him away from her. The day that she hated the most, but remembered everyday.

    Her wings spread as she stared up at the cloudy night, seeing no star once again. She wrote it off. The angel already knew that she couldn't see the Heavens until God finally excepted her back when she dies again. It will never happen. It can't happen. She was bound to this place for all eternity and there was no way to change that. Not one little thing could change the mind of God. He was feared by all humans, spirits, and fallen angel alike.

    Ophelia landed roughly on the moist soil. Grass covered the grave, but she remembered when it was fresh. When he was gone for the rest of her immortal life. The flowers that used to be there from the last time she visited were gone now. Withered into the earth with the promise to grow anew one day. The girl couldn't tell if the flowers actually grew. She only visited on this one day to relive the pain and suffering that she had went through that day so many years ago. Every time she visited, she wished that the stone that bore his name wasn't there as a sign that he was alive once again. To say that he could live his life with her. That was the only thing she wanted. That was the reason that she took this punishment from God wordlessly. Accepted it like another day in life.

    "You may be gone from here, but I know you watch over me every day," she whispered, touching the stone gently. Tracing her fingers gently over the letters. "I love you. I miss you. I wish I can see you." Her hand fell beside her once again as teardrops wet the soil beneath her along with the nighttime dew. "I love you. I miss you. I wish I can see you," she repeated.

    The angel laid down upon his grave, her wings out and resting upon the ground behind her as she laid on her one side. She pet the grass that grew over his grave gently as she closed her eyes, imagining the days that the two had before he was forever gone. Eventually she fell asleep. The woman knew that Michael might worry about her, but Charlotte trusted her and knew that she would be safe no matter what.

    "Ophelia, you shouldn't fight this demon alone," Michael stated as Charlotte stood behind him.

    Ophelia glared toward the man with the name of a saint. "And why shouldn't I?" she asked, adjusting the strap on her top that wrapped around her neck.

    "This demon is too powerful. Lucifer probably created him from Hell's Fire himself!" he replied, waving his hands in the air to express his point.

    Charlotte stepped next to Ophelia and wrapped a hand around her wrist. "Ophelia... Don't fight this demon alone. I don't want you to get hurt," she murmured sadly, trying to give the puppy face again.

    The angel looked down toward Charlotte and noticed the puppy face and shook her head. This was the first time she did not cave to the face. "No. I'm going to do this myself. This one is too powerful and can probably get to you two as I heal. I can't take the risk."


    "No 'buts'," Ophelia quickly interrupted, glaring toward Michael. "I'm going. You two stay here. I shouldn't be gone for too long." Ophelia quickly, but gently, pulled her wrist from Charlotte's grasp and went out to the balcony.

    "Ophelia," Charlotte gently whined, clutching the hand that she held Ophelia's wrist in.

    Ophelia smiled toward the girl as her wings erupted from her back once again. "Don't worry, Charlotte. I promise I'll be back," the angel replied before hopping off and taking flight once again.

    Charlotte continued to pace the balcony up and down. Her hands clutched behind her back, her eyes stuck to the ground, and a worried look knit into her facial expression. She couldn't stop worrying for Ophelia. "It's been days. Where is she?" she murmured to herself as Michael approached.

    "If you keep pacing like that, you might fall through to the level below you," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

    Charlotte stopped and looked toward him with the same worried look. "I don't know where Ophelia is. She's been gone for days. Michael, we need to find her!" the teenager exclaimed.

    Michael nodded and showed the gun in his holster, which was covered by his long coat. "Let's go. We have no more time to loose."

    The girl stared toward the gun for a moment and nodded. "Let's go find Ophelia," she replied.

    "Ophelia. Ophelia!" the voice screamed.

    The angel stopped her action. The sword that glowed with a black light was dropped from her hand and faded into thin air. She collapsed to her knees and stared around, feeling like she just woke up from an extremely bad dream that threw her into total darkness. It was quite a feeling, since she didn't even need sleep at all.

    "W-what... happened...?" she questioned, finally noticing Charlotte and Michael, standing side by side with their guns drawn. "Michael... Charlotte... Charlotte!" The angel quickly moved back to her feet and ran forward to toss her arms around the blonde teenager. "Charlotte! I don't know what happened, but... but-" the woman paused. "You're not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to fight the demon."

    Charlotte returned the hug to Ophelia and shoved her face into the crook of her neck. "Ophelia! You were gone for so long!" she cried.

    A gunshot rang into the air as Michael disrupted their moment. "We have a demon to fight," he called out, shooting at the demon again only to watch him heal quickly, just like Ophelia could. "Why can she heal so easily?"

    Ophelia spun around and glared toward the evil demon. "She isn't a normal demon. No... Normal demons are humans that were rejected from Hell like I was rejected from Heaven. This demon is one made by Lucifer himself."

    The woman that Ophelia talked about chuckled evilly. "I'm happy that you were able to introduce my father, but I'm the one arriving," the woman chuckled, holding out her hand to have flames appear in the palm of her hand.

    "Hell Fire..." Ophelia whispered as she watched the woman reel back and toss the ball toward Michael. "Michael! Duck!"

    The ball was going too fast for the man to dodge it, but Ophelia was already in motion before the throw was made as she quickly got in the way of the fireball. It left a large burn mark in her back and on part of her wings. As the woman turned back around, the burn was already starting to heal.

    "Aw... Poor fallen angel is mad because I tried to kill her friend. It would've been good riddance!" the woman shouted. "Why do you protect this man, Ophelia? He serves God. Why do you do too? Only a weakling would fear him like you do. He tossed you out of Heaven. You're stuck here for the rest of your life all because of that ungrateful bastard! Why do you serve him and kill off the demons that could be your followers?"

    Ophelia tilted her head slightly toward the woman and shook her head, releasing a slow chuckle. "That would never cross my mind. It was God sending me here that made me start to fight. That made me save my love's soul. That brought me to Charlotte. That brought me to Michael. If I could live an endless life and protect the good people from demons like you, I can be happy. It's because of a demon that made me decide what I can do for my endless life. It's because of God that I'm here, and you know what? I'm thankful for that."

    Ophelia raised her hand and her sword appeared, but it wasn't in the dark light as what it used to be. Nor was it in it's original form. The blade was lengthened slightly, sharper, but it felt lighter. Near the hilt a small bit of white feathers gathered as it glowed with a heavenly white light.

    "Ophelia... your sword," Michael whispered in awe, staring toward the sword that had the extremely noticeable change.

    The woman stared at her new blade with wide eyes for a moment, unable to take them away for just a moment. The blade was beautiful, but it held the fact that it can be used to fight. It was heavenly. It was a Sword of God.

    The demon woman glared toward the group and rolled her eyes. "Let's get this thing started already!" she hollered impatiently as she dashed forward, a sword of her own forming in hand as she did so.

    The blades connected with two different sounds. A clang from the demon's and a clean ring from Ophelia's. Both women pulled apart and quickly continued, filling the space with heavenly-demonic music as Charlotte and Michael watched, both ready to shoot whenever they become needed. It wasn't necessary though, since both knew full well that Ophelia didn't like it when people came in on her fight and interrupted her. She didn't want to accidentally hurt someone just because they got into her way. There was another note to the oxy-moronic music before Ophelia pulled back and lifted the sword into the air, spreading her wings to their full size.

    "God! I pray that you help me with this battle and defeat this vile creature! I fight in your name, I fear your power, I love the very world you have created. Please give me the power!" Ophelia called.

    A light burst through the roof, showing a bright daytime sky in the middle of the night. It centered upon Ophelia, making the demon woman pull back and hiss from the intense and heavenly light. The sword sparkled in the beautiful light as a spray of feathers released from it temporarily, clouding the view of Ophelia until they cleared out to show the black haired woman with white wings instead of black.

    Audible gasps were heard from Charlotte and Michael as the demon's glare intensified. Ophelia lowered the sword to eye level to get another look at the bright metal before she faced a glare upon the demon.

    "Try to defeat me," she ordered, her voicing seeming to reverberate and echo in the area, unlike before, when her voice was normal. "Try to kill me, demon."

    The woman stared toward the fallen angel for a moment, practically in awe. Eventually she shook her head to get out of her stupor and glared toward the woman. "I won't have to try. I'll succeed," she chuckled as she dashed forward once again, having their blades connect repeatedly once more.

    It was like a deadly, but beautiful, dance. The two woman continued to circle each other, following each other's moves and blocking and striking perfectly. Both flowed gracefully from one move to the next. A dance between life and death, it almost seemed to be.

    It seemed too soon that the invigorating dance had to end as the red of blood interrupted. It spilled onto Ophelia's white wings and stained the demon's blonde hair. Both of them had been struck down, but Ophelia seemed to be the one who one as the demon fell into a cloud of dust like all the others. The angel fell back, quickly being caught by Michael as Charlotte quickly came around to her one side and kneeled down next to the woman.

    "Ophelia! Ophelia! Are you okay?" Charlotte asked, looking toward the angel's face. Her angel.

    Ophelia flinched slightly and gazed up toward the sky, seeing the stars and the crescent moon. "I... I am okay. Actually... I'm better than okay. I'm dying," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.

    Charlotte's eyes widened and tears made their downfall upon her face as well. "No... No, you can't die, Ophelia! Please, don't die!" she cried.

    The angel's eyes flicked to the blonde haired teenager and she weakly reached a hand up to her. "Don't stop me from what I've been wishing for. I'm going to see my love again, and I'll be sure to keep an eye on you as I live on in Heaven."

    "But... you have to stay... Ophelia..." Charlotte released another sob as she hugged the angel, receiving another flinch as she done so.

    "Goodbye Charlotte. Goodbye Michael. Maybe one day I'll see the two of you in Heaven as well," the angel whispered as her hand, the same one that reached up toward Charlotte, fell back down to her chest. The woman scattered into a mess of white feathers as her name was called once again by the teenage girl.


    Michael stood, brushing some of the feathers off of him for the time being, before he approached the young girl and helped her up. "Let us go, Charlotte. We can't dwell on the past for too long. You and I have some futures to look forward to," the man murmured, placing a gentle arm around the crying girl. "Let us go home."

    The two started to walk away slowly before they both paused. Charlotte turned around and jogged back toward the mess of feathers and picked up one, holding it to her lips as she slowly paced back toward Michael.

    Goodbye Ophelia. I hope you find him in Heaven and never forget me. the young girl thought sadly.

    If only she heard the angel chuckle lightly and smile, wrapping an arm around a man right next to her as she done so. "Charlotte. I found him, and don't doubt my memory,"</> the angel whispered as she watched the two walk back to the apartment they all used to call 'home'.
  3. Very beautiful! Love the dog~
    I have not read all of your story yet but it's fantastic so far
  4. Thank you! I miss that dog. He was photogenic when he wasn't as hyper, though.
  5. Short Story:
    Grim's A Girl

    "Okay... you've done this many times," I said to myself, my hands at my forehead in stress and nervousness. "Just knock, go in, do the deed, and leave." I rasied my hand and knocked confidently, despite the fact that I was nervous as hell.

    The door opened and a middle aged man with glasses answered. He seemed so much on the nice, shy guy side. No one would ever expect that he truly wanted to die.

    "Hello. I was hoping that you would like to order a subscription to a magazine. I have selections here and it's a fundraiser for my church. The highest seller would pick the camp we get to go to," I lied completely through my teeth. I always hated lying.

    The man stared for a moment before saying, "I already have subscriptions."

    I was secretly happy that he might not let me in. It was my job though, so I still had to try. "Maybe there are some others that you may like as well," I told him, holding up the book.

    He stared again before opening the door wider. "Come in," he told me, stepping aside to let me in.

    I mentally cursed as I smiled and stepped through the doorway. I handed him the book to go through it. He made a couple of selections before walking off to his room to get money.

    I quickly looked around and noticed he had a pot on the stove that was boiling. After close examination, I noticed it must've been his lunch. I took out my vial and sprinkled some of my own stuff in before gliding back to my old spot just as he walked back into the room.

    "That would be twenty-three dollars," he murmured, handing me the money. "Good luck."

    I smiled and nodded before looking to gather my things and make my way out. "Same to you, Steven Randal Higgins," I murmured as I took out my list and crossed off the third name.

    I hated this job. I didn't pick it. I was chosen for it. I wanted to get away from it, but I couldn't. Once chosen, the only way out was death and I had something to live for right now.

    He's cute. He's active. Very loving and always saying he loves me. He's always learning something new everyday and tells me about them. I love him.

    He's also two and a half years old.

    My son, you perverts.

    I'm not married. I didn't intend to get pregnant. I was... I was raped. I lost my virginity to someone I didn't even know. I was a product of a cruel fate, but that didn't matter. It was hard getting used to the idea, but when he was born, I fell in love.

    When he was three months old, I was having trouble keeping up with my blonde bombshell, something he got from me. I was going several days without food because I didn't have enough money. He was more important than myself.

    Then I got a letter. It said that if I accepted a position in ther corperation, they will take care of myself and family. They would provide enough money for necessities and such. I could never quit the job either.

    I immediately accepted.

    The next day, a man in a black suit appeared at our door saying he would introduce me to what I had to do for the job. I asked him what I was supposed to do.

    "Field work," he told me.

    I shruged. As long as my son and I had the money. He handed me the list with the names on it. I asked him what they were.

    "You're clients for today," he had replied.

    I nodded. "So... what am I supposed to do?"

    He looked toward me. "Kill," he answered.

    I froze in silence. "Did I sign up for assassination?" I asked in panic.


    I sighed in relief.

    "This is G.R.I.M. Grim Reaper International of Manhattan," he said.

    "Yeah... What?" I asked with confusion.

    He turned toward me. "You are now a Grim Reaper. There's no way out except death. You have a son, right?" He looked into a black folder that I hadn't noticed before. "Christopher Marcus Dekannawitz."

    I slowly nodded.

    "He qualifies for a daycare in the area. Here is the address and here is my card. Now let's get to work."

    I still had the card in my pocket just in case I had a problem.


    "Chris, dinner," I called as I set the food down. I watched my son work his way toward me. It wasn't fast. He was taking his time. He was really observasive. It was sometimes cute. Otherwise, it was uncomfortable.

    "Mama," Chris called, reaching up for me so I can put him into his seat. I smiled and reached down, picking up the boy who was getting bigger by the day.

    As I set him down, I said, "You're getting to be a big boy now, aren't you?"

    Instead of replying, he reached toward the food that was too far away for his little arms to reach. I chuckled and let us begin dinner. I loved the times we sat to eat because he would tell me everything and I would ask questions.

    "... and-and she said- she said tat she tought snakes were icky! I tink dey cool. What about you, mama?"

    I nodded. "Snakes are cool," I agreed and watched as he went into another speel. It always helped by making me forget that at nine, I will be getting another list of clients for tomorrow.


    With as many times as I done this, no one has ever tried to blame me for any deaths. I was never connected to anyone. Plus, I was always recieving middle aged clients or older. I don't know how I would react if I had to kill a child.

    Everyone believed I was an innocent woman trying to sell magazines or make-up or something. I am very much in love with youthful, bright colors. I loved green the most once, but yellow was starting to win now. I seemed like the most unlikely person to go about killing people. Maybe that's why I was sent that letter about this position.

    It was early morning and I finally sat Chris down in front of a bowl of Cheerios. I sat down as well and we started our usual morning, but with Chris asking questions. He was done eating before and kept speaking until someone knocked on my door.

    "Coming!" I called as I got up and went to the door and opened it. "May I help you?" I asked the man standing there.

    The man smiled kindly. "Hello, ma'am," he said happily. "I am doing a survey of the apartments here in order to develope a design for a new building."

    "Fine, fine," I muttered as I let him come in. I looked at the clock and cursed. "You can start wherever. I have to get ready for work." I jogged into my room and started to pack my pockets with copper, collapsable syringes, small container with bleach, and other things to help kill my clients. Once done, I walked back into the living room to see my son turning blue with the man standing over him.

    "Chris!" I shouted, running up to my son and seeing what was wrong. "What did you do to my son?"

    The stranger was confused. "What do you mean?" he asked dumbly.

    I flashed a glare at him. "You poisoned my son. You're a G.R.I.M., aren't you?" I Snapped, picking up my son.

    "Actually, I'm a R.E.A.P.E.R.," he replied. "You can't save him. He was on the list for six months. I couldn't be avoided anymore."

    My son was turning cold. He's dying! Dying! I won't have my son anymore!

    "Then this can't be avoided," I murmured as I kissed my son's forehead and laid him on the couch. I started to slip out a syringe, but a strong hand grabbed my wrist.

    "Don't. Please don't," he begged, his sparkling brown eyes remind me of my dead son's.

    I started to fall, but was caught against him as a sob tore through me. Then another... then another. Tears stained my cheeks as I cried over my son's death, unable to kill myself. Too scared to kill myself.

    So I didn't kill myself, but waited patiently for death to come knocking at my door as I have done to so many.
  6. A couple of old ones from high school.

    A rose's blood is innocence,
    A human's blood is what they are.
    What are we? As one...
    We can be heartless, yet caring.
    Greedy, yet giving.
    Blood thirsty, yet not.
    Dead, but still alive.
    An immortal being that exists in all will still die.
    Love can turn to hate just as easily as most.
    The most important can be the least.
    So what are we?
    You tell me...


    Tonight was a night that was never to end.
    The sights, the sounds, being with my friends.
    Letting my body move to the beat.
    Letting myself show the real me.

    The host stood up and began to speak.
    My boyfriend handed me a drink.
    The concoction tased weird and I asked why.
    Boyfriend said it was beer, just for tonight.

    I was about to put it down and forget it,
    But I was pressured by my peers to take another sip.
    First came one, then two, then thirteen.
    Soon I was on cup three.

    I clumsily dropped my cup on my dress,
    I was spelling of beer for the rest of the night.
    Everyone soon began to leave,
    My boyfriend took my key and he was as drunk as me.

    We started to drive home at last,
    Boyfriend driving way too fast.
    Came the intersection we're about to pass.
    The stop sign faded, then came the crash.

    The paramedics arrived, and just in time!
    I shouted that he's going to die.
    They gazed into the car and gave us tags.
    His was red, mine was black.

    If only I knew, if only I know,
    The meaning behind black, the truth.
    They took him away and ignored me,
    Despite my attempts and pleas.

    I wanted to be with him before his moments fade.
    I tried to move but, in my spot, I stayed.
    Then came my parents, trying to rush over to me.
    They were stopped by an official man and my mom started to cry.

    'She was so young with so much ahead,
    Now you're telling me our daughter is dead?!'
  7. Out in the car,
    Stuck in a mental debate.
    Should I keep myself here,
    Or should I drive away.
    Kids in tow,
    Clothes in bags.
    Tears still going,
    With favorite toys in hand.
    The same thing happened,
    A few weeks ago.
    We stayed and waited,
    For him to calm down and let us know.
    Should I drive away,
    Or should I just wait.
    The same choices plagues me,
    Because I'm afraid.
    Our kids will suffer,
    And so will I.
    I'm afraid of the possibilities,
    If I decide to drive.
    It doesn't happen often...
    Only when we fight.
    If I keep the peace,
    Maybe we'll make it another night.
    But a night only lasts so long,
    And another day will come.
    Another problem will surface,
    And I'll be debating to run.
    The years pass,
    And things are still the same.
    Only difference is,
    The kids got away.
    Maybe one day,
    I'll get up the courage.
    Get into the drivers seat,
    And drive away to family.
    Maybe one day,
    I can end this fear.
    Finally run away,
    And feel happier.
    If they could make it out,
    And not feel an ounce of suffering,
    Maybe I can escape,
    And finally be free.
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