You're an angel; You little devil.

There were times when life seemed perfect. Life in the village of Pont-Y-Prynhawn was serene and nothing ever seemed out place, the river babbled and flowed under the bridge into the village where it gushed into Llyn Prynhawn, the lake surrounded on two sides by slate mined mountains. The village folk were polite, friendly but unlike most tight-knit communities, no-one knew anything about each other. Though the town held the appearance of a modest tourist village, the jagged mountain sides and dark waters gave the clues to a dark secret, a dark secret that I am part of, as is every member of this village.

I strolled down by the lake, earphones in, swinging half a loaf of bread by its bag as I paced cheerfully down the path in time with the acoustic track that flowed into my ears. I found my usual boulder, one of many that bordered the river. I dropped my bread bag down before climbing onto the ginormous rock and folding my legs in front of me. I took the moment to take in my environment, taking in the clouds that had been punctured by the mountains and blanking out the noise of the tourists flooding into the village in their camper vans and packed cars. The thing I wanted to listen to was the gentle lapping of the lake at the foot of the stale boulder as I let my eyes close, feeling a sense of relaxation wash over me.

“QUAAAACK!”

my eyes shot open to see a couple of ducks eyeing up my bag of bread. I sighed with a smile and duh into the bag and tearing the loaf into pieces to throw to the ducks. I did this most mornings, just to get away from the family. You see; we're not a normal family at all. We're on the angel side of the never ending global war between heaven and hell. Or as I call it: a pointless tiff between vampires and angels. Saying that; I'd never met a vampire, so how should I know?

Our village is a special one, it used to be a battleground between the two sides until they realised that the violence and destruction was driving away the tourists. The tourism industry is the base on which the village stands on, not only that but the worry of the secret being projected into the human society which would endanger us all. Since then, the village has worked in a love/hate relationship, no one revealed which side they were on and therefore, no one could be prejudice towards someone if they haven't revealed their identity.

Us angels had it easy, our identity was thoroughly hidden in the form of a tattoo, wings on our back. It sounds cliché but we are able to spring the wings from the tattoo from our back, however, the ability to do this and to be able to fly has been lost since the takeover of humans. Its a shame, I have always wanted to know what its like to soar the skies like a bird. This is the way we are, now; ambassadors of the good and all that is boring.

Back down to earth, I'd got through the bag of bread and the ducks were headed towards the jetty where the paddle boats were hired out. I watched them paddle away, quacking between themselves. I liked ducks, completely happy creatures. I sat there for a bit longer before I decided it was my time to go, so I gathered my bread bag into a scruffy ball and stuffed it in my pocket before beginning to get get to my feet, when:

“Hey!” said the voice that shocked me into loosing my balance and in I fell to the cold, shallow water.

“Shit!” I cried, standing up and inspecting my completely drenched clothes before looking up to stare at the reason for my disturbance. I was glaring at a boy, not much older than I, looking sheepish, biting a finger nail in worry.

“I am SO sorry, honestly” he uttered out of pure worry “I, I really didn't mean to scare you.”
“Clearly not” I muttered, starting to find my way out of the icy lake.

“Just let me help you out” he offered, extending a hand which displayed on his wrists, the famous “666”, the sign of the devil, the identity of a vampire.