Vampires prey on humans, but who preys on vampires? Black Angels, the first angels.
The moon shone full and bright in the starless sky. Something flickered in that fathomless night, something shimmering like ocean water under the sun, down on the empty city street. Empty of all but one.
The source of the flickering and shimmering was his waist length, thick, metallic silver hair. His pointed face was like a faerie’s and his silver eyes were Elven shaped. The smooth flesh covering him was the color of browned butter and he wore a black leather body suit with silver buckles.
Small pink lips circled a black cigarette that gave off smoke the color of burnt ashes.
Another movement disturbed the still night. A shadow gliding across the top of the building not far from the creature of soft black and flickering/shimmering silver. The shadow moved fast, black cloak billowing behind it.
Then it froze suddenly, effortlessly, having spotted the black and silver creature walking below it. And took to the sky.
The man on the street smiled coldly, and then blew out a puff of charcoal colored smoke in a soft chuckle.
“I saw him, Mikilae! With my own, two eyes. He was striding down the street as if he owned it. I flew here as fast as I could.”
Mikilae ran a tan hand through his short, slightly curly, auburn colored hair. Glowing green eyes narrowed.
“I believe you, Vinn, but the others may not. You are young and they will think you are incompetent and jumping at shadows made of your own imagination.”
Vinn’s red eyes began to glow and his entire face tightened in the kind of anger and defiance only the young can portray.
“He was a Black Angel.”, he hissed between his teeth.
Mikilae was out of his seat, faster than even Vinn’s eyes could track, and backhanded the errant youth.
“Hold your tongue.” he tightened his hands into his fist and his face mutated with anger and fear. Making his flesh almost transparent, showing hints of the skeleton beneath. “You are never to speak that name, it is forbidden.” It took a minute for Mikilae to calm himself again, but he finally managed it and sat back into his chair with an air of nonchalance. “You will keep what you have seen to yourself. Such creatures are none of your concern.”
Vinn kept his face from showing the shock that he felt. Mikilae had always been a kind and easygoing Master, almost human in his mannerisms. The mention of the Black Angel had turned him back into the aristocratic and cold creature that all of the other Master’s were.
He decided not to keep quiet about the Black Angel, but his Master’s reaction to the name convinced him to be careful about whom he enlightened.
He bowed, turned, and glided out of his Master’s immediate presence.
No one knew the exact origin’s of the Black Angels. Some said that they were God’s first angels, made in retaliation of the Devil’s first demons; Vampires. Mikilae sighed and closed his eyes tightly. He had believed them more of a legend or myth, but some were old enough to remember the days when they walked the land in flesh and blood.
Mikilae’s kind feared the Black Angels fiercely because they took away their immortality, strength, and power. They made his kind feel Human again, at least those who were not born to the gift and were made instead.
One red tear made its way slowly down his face and he opened his vibrant green eyes, the glowing orbs shocking in the completely darkened room.
Black Angels struck stark fear in them because Black Angels fed on Vampires.
Caim lay naked, on a hill covered with lush green grass, under a tree. The warm night air caressed his white skin and ruffled hair the color of burned embers. A man the color of oil dangled his legs from his seat in the tree limbs, and then jumped down. He landed on all fours above Caim and kissed the large pulse in his neck.
Caim opened eyes the color of midnight complete with the stars made of burning white light.
“One more time.” he said with a dark light in his eyes.
His companion chuckled, his all-red eyes glowing, and kissed his lover deeply before pulling away.
“Our union approaches the blasphemic, Caim. There is a war coming and when it arrives, we will be on opposite ends of the chess board.”
Caim immediately squeezed his eyes shut and curled his hands into tight fists. Molten gold tears leaked from between his eyelashes.
“I can not fight you, Shadow. I love you.”
Shadow gazed down at his lover with a sympathetic, but cold expression.
“You will have to, Caim. You will just have to forget your love for me for a moment.”
Then the flesh on his back began to ripple and large black bat wings emerged from his back, with at least a 50 ft wingspan. He flapped them for a few moments to get them ready for flight, and then pushed up into the air with his powerful legs.
Caim opened his eyes just long enough to watch his lover fly away, gold streaking his face.
“I will never forget.” he whispered.
Then he disappeared from sight, leaving a few golden feathers floating in the soft breeze.
His eyes were the color of orange marble, with veins of ruby. Long, curly, locks of silky hair fell past his hips and his oriental styled long sleeved dress shirt hid the iridescent on his arms, neck, and torso. Slacks covered the rest of his tattoo that continued on the flesh of his lower body. A simple orange and red tie, to match his striking eyes, rested at his neck.
The man turned his gaze so that it rested on Valac, the only soul who dared address him as anything other than Prince or Highness.
“Yes, Valac. You have something to say?”
Valac always marveled on how warm his Prince looked. His skin was brown like he originated from some island where the weather was always warm and sunny, and his eyes were the color of fire itself. Yet Allocen always had a cold way about him. Though his eyes were warm, his looks never were and neither was his tone of voice.
He was friends with Allocen though, as much as any ruler could have a friend, and Valac usually got whatever he wanted and was held in a high regard when it came to making decisions.
“Are you sure you want to do this? Their kind can never come here; you do not have to go meet them. And if you must, you can at least wait a little longer.”
Allocen shook his head and step towards his friend, eyes turning more red than orange.
“No, there is no more waiting. He plans to be rid of us, getting rid of his mistakes and his undesirables all in one swoop; I will not allow myself or my people to be exterminated on his whim.”
Valac fell backwards onto the bed, his short and curly blue hair making a small cloud around his head. He stared up at the silk black canopy for a few seconds, and then closed his golden eyes with a sigh.
“What of the Black Angels?”
A cold smile stretched Allocen’s lips as he walked back over to his bedroom window.
“They are both mistakes and undesirables in his eyes, and after all these centuries enduring his desertion, they have no great love for him. Yet they have no love for me either, since I was the reason they were created. Their job was to kill my first and only children, and both races endure.” A disgusted expression flickered over his face and was gone. “Unlike these modern creatures, so easy to kill; expendable.” He sighed and glanced behind him to the teenager lying on his bed as if asleep. “But to answer your question, Valac, the Black Angels are neutral for now. All except Desahli. I sent him into the Living Realm in order to greet my children. The fact that he is a Black Angel is bound to get their attention. He has permission to kill them all if necessary.” His eyes glowed bright like a bonfire. “I have no use for liabilities.”
Valac opened eyes that glowed magenta in response to his lieges power and emotion.
“So the war begins.” he whispered to himself.
Marcathis ran deeper into the forest, gliding over fallen branches, rocks, and small animals as if he had memorized its layout seconds before he had ever taken a step. Even though he was running fast enough to become a blur of color to most eyes, he was afraid that he still was not moving fast enough.
It seemed to his eyes as if all of the trees, plants, and branches were simply moving out of his way. A branch cracked loudly and echoed throughout the forest.
Marcathis glanced behind him and ran head first into a tree. He blacked out.
Vinn gazed down at the young man on the ground. He had given Vinn a good chase, better than most, and he had a strange smell about him. It was not a wolf or any species of canine he had ever smelled, but the scent caused fear to grow inside him and broke his skin into chills.
The young vampire had seen an easy meal, but now he was not so sure of his prey. He did not wish the young man to come to harm, so he decided to take him to a rogue shape-shifter he knew. Mikilae never need know.
Cold. Extreme cold. A feeling of weightlessness.
Marcathis opened his eyes to a slit, and then widened them into large orbs of surprise and fear.
The ground was rising to meet him, fast. Arms held him tightly and Marcathis began to struggle.
Vinn cursed. The young man’s revival was unexpected this early.
“Stop struggling.” he hissed. “You’re going to cause yourself to fall and I may not be able to catch you fast enough if you do decide to answer gravity’s call.”
Marcathis stopped struggling, but held himself very still and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.
“As most of you may already know, our King and Father has decreed that the Eternal War be terminated.” Macaelin paced slowly and methodically in front of his army. “Most of you have not seen real battle or combat for there has been a short lull in this war and you were made within it to give us numbers. We are to destroy the enemy completely as well as anyone or anything that gets in our way of victory.”
The General ceased pacing and studied those few who would command beneath him.
Maxithus’ brown skin was scarred with lines of pain that never quite healed. The scars were lined with black flesh and were filled with blood, the color of lava, which never spilled. As Angel of War and Combat, his wings were black and grey and his long and coarse black hair was twisted into tiny braids.
Corldle was the strangest looking one. His flesh was not entirely solid and it swirled as a lake may do at the behest of a great wind. Corldle’s skin was constantly darkening and lightening with the movements of dark clouds and lightning flickering beneath it. His wings behaved in the same way as his flesh. Corldle was the Angel of Storms, his eyes flashed and flickered with dangerous lightning, and when he spoke, his voice was thunder.
Saeriah and Caim, the last two, were brothers.
Saeriah, the oldest, was dressed entirely in black all the way down to his leather boots. His steel grey eyes were piercing and heavy, while his slightly wavy black hair fell softly to his hips in artful layers. Saeriah’s power was unknown as was the color of his wings.
Saeriah’s little brother Caim resembled his brother only in facial structure. His long straight hair was a blackish-grey color like the smear of ashes. The Angel’s white flesh gleamed like moonlight or starlight, and his eyes were a very dark blue alight with stars.
Caim’s powers were also unknown. The two brothers were the most mysterious Angels ever made, and no one was allowed to ask about them.
“I will not be on the actual battlefield.” the General said to his commanders. “The job of your betters is not to fight common demons and creatures; it is to protect our Father.” He began to pace again. “You will be counted upon to eradicate the enemy all the way down to its dregs.” The General froze mid-step then turned to meet each commander’s gaze. “You are dismissed.”
The Black Angel heard low and intense voices and an amusing amount of frustrated and fearful hissing. He followed the voices until he reached large varnished wooden doors and pushed them open. The voices and hissing ceased immediately, and eleven bodies froze.
“I assume that you all have convened here tonight in order to discuss the reality of my presence.” Desahli frowned and walked closer/approached the rectangular table the Vampires sat around. “I must admit to disappointment. I make such a dramatic entrance, in plain sight, and come to find you bickering over whether I’m real or not.” His voice turned strange like many voices speaking the same words but just out of unison and with some lagging behind completely. “I assure you my fledglings,” his silver hair swayed around his head in an invisible wind. “I am quite real.”
Saeriah stood, unnoticed, in his brother’s chamber doorway. Caim sat on his window seat and gazed quietly at their world that flickered like liquid moonlight. His skin glowed with the light and his hair looked almost black.
“What is wrong, little brother?”
Caim startled and turned around to face his brother as Saeriah stepped farther into the room and closed the door. His voice was soft and sad when he spoke.
“Why do we fight, Saeriah? And why do we fight for Him?”
Saeriah sat beside his brother and took him into his arms.
“We fight because we are told to, little brother, and we fight for Him because we are told.”
Caim glared at his brother, the stars in his dark blue eyes brightening enough to glow like a child’s light for their darkened rooms.
“Even the smallest of children know that when that is said, it is because there is no true reason.”
Caim’s head was pulled back by his ash colored hair and his brother’s cold grey eyes searched his face.
“You are no child, Caim.”
Saeriah’s little brother pulled sharply away from his grip and turned back to the scenery outside of his window.
“I will not fight him.” he said softly with his eyes glowing starlight now and no more night sky.
Saeriah stood and his tone of voice was frozen as if an ice-coated throat could affect his words.
“I allowed that to go on because you told me that when the time came, you could do your duty by our kind. Now you are telling me that you do not wish to fight and you sit there with that look on your face, Caim.” He grabbed his brother by his hair again and pulled him into a standing position. “Tell me, does he not wish to fight? Is he going to throw down his weapons in a very dramatic scene upon the battlefield, declaring his love for you?”
Caim’s eyes went from glowing silver to completely ash colored, like his hair, in a flash. He was angry, and Saeriah could see shadows dancing in the ashes of his little brothers eyes. He did not back down in the face of Caim’s anger, but he let go of him.
“Tell me, little brother.” he demanded as Caim continued to say nothing and glare at him.
“No.”, Caim’s voice was horrible like the sound of a child’s voice whose whole village had been burned and he the only survivor. Dull, cold, but with a definite rage you knew could destroy the world once he let it out. You knew all it would take was a spark to make it burn. “No, Saeriah, he will do none of those things. Now leave me.”
Saeriah turned and began to do just that, but he paused as he opened the chamber door.
“You will fight, Caim. Even if I have to drag you there myself.”
He closed the door softly as he left.
Marcathis watched the Vampire closely. His eyes were all red and his hair was shoulder length, dark red, and spiky. The Vampire had a tight grip on his arm that Marcathis could not break, even with his strength gained from his Father.
“I’m taking you to a shifter I know.” the Vampire said without looking at him and without pausing his gliding walk through the trees. “Not all shifters are comfortable with my kind and some would use my landing in the middle of their encampment as an excuse to try and kill me.”
“Why? Why take me to this shifter?”
That made the Vampire look at him, straight into his eyes, and his gaze made Marcathis’ skin prickle. Disturbingly pleasant.
“Because you smell strange.” the Vampire looked away and the action disappointed Marcathis for some reason. “And I am curious.”
The shifter village was quite clear through the trees now. Marcathis could not just see, but smell it as well. He had never liked the smell of shifters and for good reason.
“You know what they say about curiosity, don’t you?”
The Vampire looked at him again and smiled slyly. His eyes brightened and flickered like blood fire.
“Yes.”, he told him. “But I am no cat.”
Colden stared at the numerous maps lining the almost translucent walls of his office. He did not stir or acknowledge in any way, Maxithus' sudden presence in the room.
"Where do you plan to make this war?"
"It is your job to obey commands, not to have a say in them."
Maxithus stepped forward, a creature alien to intimidation.
"You know my gifts. I am more tied to this thing than you could ever be." He tilted his head, braids swaying gently. "I and my kind are not mere instruments."
Colden glanced up with dark eyes bleached of color.
"You are an instrument, and one I will use wisely."
Colden was a harsh creature with no heart, literally and figuratively, but he relented.
"We will fight this war in the same place we fought the last battle."
Maxithus inclined his head.