They Find Me in My Dreams

They find me in my dreams. I run through the corridors shrouded in shadow to try and escape, clinging to the walls, waiting for them to pass so I can make a silent escape. They are grotesque creatures, misshapen with red eyes. They silently call my name, in a taunting whisper, giggling manically with self awareness of their terror. I can hear them, whisper, whisper, whisper. Their whispers snake across my arms, and flit towards my ears. I clasp my hands to my head in an attempt to drive them out, but their whispers are persistent. I run, as fast as I can, away from the whispers. They are haunting, the words leave marks on my soul, I cannot run from the words. The corridors grow darker, their whispers following me wherever I turn. They find me in my dreams.

Reconstruction

Desdemonda walked up to Chase and held his head between her hands. She delighted in the feel of twisting his neck until she heard the snap that disconnected him from life. She signalled to the reconstruction team to take him down below where she would finish the transformation.

“Donovan! Gear up, we roll out as soon as I prepare Chase for his new life,” she said as she headed down the steps after the reconstruction team. Normally after a torture session, the maimed humans would be stripped down to their hate and be turned into demons. They would then be sent to individual cells, broken down emotionally even further until they were bare and raw. Lucifer preferred his demons to be so damaged that they would look to him for guidance, for lust, for some semblance of order, and Lucifer relished the role of being their prince. Desdemonda had different plans for Chase. He would be rebuilt as a destroyer, not as a demon. They would extract his hate from his mind and put it into his heart, pump the emotion to drive him. Adrenaline wasn’t needed, hate and rage satisfied all other destroyers, and it would do for him as well.

                The reconstruction team had strict orders from Desdemonda to ensure that Chase’s form was to be as untouched as possible, but that his soul could be used and abused to whatever means necessary in order to get him to the level of the destroyers. Physical strength was a key part of being a destroyer, it was after all, not easy to snap the neck of a human when they were struggling and crying out. It was all about gaining the upper hand, about dominance, and when the warring angels were aiding the humans, the chances of success went down by a large margin. The team began with the extraction of hate. The process was long; hate was rarely entrenched in the heart, but a thought that the mind tried to convince the heart of. The demon in charge of the extraction laid his hand upon Chase’s, and absorbed the hateful thoughts into his own mind. He filtered Chase’s thoughts by weeding out the petty ideas and miseries, and focused in on the hateful thoughts toward his father and brother, and the loathing he felt towards his mother. The demon refocused these thoughts down to his hand and laid it on Chase’s cold heart. Chase began to breathe again, hatred and loathing coursing throughout his body. He opened his eyes and the extractor smiled, here was a new creation, a new kind of hate, one that would send the angels to their knees.

Mission

“Good morning Elijah, Josiah,” Eve greeted as she walked into the tent. The Angels had a map out in front of them, and Josiah was drawing up a list of what looked like away supplies for an extended mission.

“Eve, good morning, how are you feeling?” Josiah asked, concern for Eve’s feelings lacing his tone. He could see that she was looking better, and that her eyes were no longer rimmed red.

“I’m at peace,” Eve walked around the opposite side of the table and stared down at the map. She saw a black line tracing a route along the southern coast and up through the deep dark woods of Miriayla. Josiah had been following her eyes tracing the route, when he saw the question in her eyes he turned to her and said, “We will be going south first, we know that Desdemonda frequents the north to train and recruit, and we want to stay out of her way for the time being. We will see what caskets we can find along the coast and then explore the forest in more depth than we have previously. We know that we have two outposts deep in the forest” he pointed to two points on the map, “and it is there that we can leave any new ones, and there that we can send scouts to the north, and when we know the movements of the demons, we will be able to sneak in and awaken those that are ready,”

“But this time you are not to linger,” warned Elijah “we do not need a repeat of last night.”

The Crew

 Desdemonda reached the training ring and was disgusted at the state of her crew, lazing around like they had nothing better to do. Her crew was made up of herself and three males, Donovan, Keiran, and Ramiro. They were vicious, destructive and ruthless, true killing machines. She felt a regard for them. They weren’t friends, they weren’t enemies, they just existed together. She knew that they were bonded in a way, a way that made them work and kill together seamlessly. She signalled to the ring marshal to let in a few of those who they had taken from the black caskets a few missions ago. She looked at her team and silently sent them the message that they could do whatever they wanted to the humans. This was one of her favourite activities when she was frustrated, the one way to release all of her anger. Getting to maim and torture the humans.

“What’s your name?” Desdemonda asked of a man in the ring.

“Chase,” he said. Desdemonda looked him over and chuckled to herself. Chase was short with brown hair and grey eyes. Eyes that shouted anger and a hatred of the world, grey eyes that bore pain of hurts gone by, eyes that screamed his defiance. Desdemonda knew that this male would make an excellent destroyer.

“Well Chase, I’ve got something really special in store for you,” Desdemonda approached him with a malicious smile on her face, “Try to keep still, it will hurt less”.

Peace

“Eve? Eve, are you awake?”

Eve heard the small voice of Christopher. The tiniest angel that she had ever seen, small wings, but a big heart. He was always at the camps waiting for her when they arrived from casket hunting. She hadn’t seen him last night, and she knew that he was giving her the space that she needed to reflect on the events that had taken place last night.   

“Good morning Christopher,”

“I’ve brought you some fresh fruit for breakfast,” he came into the tent and set the tray down next to her cot, he sat next to her and laid his hand on her head and closed his eyes. His prayer was short but simple, and his touch healed all her hurts, “The pain will pass Eve, He knows, and he has cried also, but they get to dance with him for all eternity, that is a blessing,” Christopher smiled his huge smile and left Eve to bask in the warmth he left behind. She walked outside the tent to a brilliant sunrise, the sky lit up like a fire, the dew on the grass being melted away by the radiant beams. She smiled at the awakening life the daylight brought, and her heart was filled with peace. She walked over to the tent where she knew Josiah and Elijah would be, waiting to discover where their next mission would be.