Angels Born of Hell and Fire

Chapter Six:

The dream came hideously, and viciously, later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, and I had gratefully collapsed on my bed. To me it seemed that I had my eyes closed not but mere seconds before the images pooled in.

I saw fire and blood, I heard screams and violence, the cold slide of steel, the wet squish of spattered blood. I was running, my dressing gown tangling around my legs. Bodies fell everywhere; I heard gunshots. Dark shadows danced against the walls. And still I ran. I was trying to find him. He was here somewhere. Where was he? Where was he?!? Shots filed out ahead of me. I screamed.

It was then, that I realized that it wasn’t me screaming, and it wasn’t in my head.

My eyes snapped open to the sound of people running the halls, to a girl screaming deep within the house, to the metallic click of a gun. A heart beat and heavy breathing nearby. Without further thought I was swinging up in bed, my legs flying. My foot caught on the side of a head with deadly accuracy. My ears caught the sound of a snap. My feet hit the ground and I stood trembling, staring down at the body of a man I knew for certain did not belong here.

A high pitched screech pierced the air, red swinging lights colored the dark night. We were under attack. We were in danger.

One shuttering breath and I was running.

Jasper.

I raced from my room in a panic, charging down the hall to where her door stood ajar, men in all black crept away.

Jasper.

I came up from behind them, using surprise as my weapon. I jumped, kicking off the wall to propel myself into a spin, my heel cracked against the first ones jaw as he turned. The others turned, their guns raised. I ducked behind the body of the first man, feeling the impact as bullets pummeled his flesh. I shoved the bleeding corpse at one the men to absorb more fire while I launched myself at the other. With a low growl my claws flitted across his exposed throat. Scarlet rain poured down on me, warm droplets splashing my face. The sharp feel of fear and I turned to see the last man staring at me with wide terrified eyes, the tip of the rifle in his hand pointed at my chest. For one exaggerated moment we stared at each other, then he made the mistake of blinking and my claws found his life’s blood.

I was running before his body even hit the floor, a sob tearing my throat.

Jasper.

She wasn’t in her room, so where? Why wasn’t she in her room so late at night? Where did she go? Did they already take her? Surely they would be after her, of course they were. I had to find her, I had to stop them. I had to, I had to. I headed for the stairs, following where I could sense her.

‘Jasper!’ I called in my head but it was as if static filled my brain. I couldn’t reach her. My blood was racing, the squeal of the alarm seeming to drive my heartbeat faster. It grated at my nerves, urging my legs to run faster. I never thought I would ever actually hear that bell.

All around me I could hear screams of people being torn from their beds, maybe even of them dying, I couldn’t know. More men blocked me, infuriating me as I tried to find Jasper. They were in the way. Their blood soon joined the others as it slid down the painted walls.

At one point I saw I man bust in a door and immediately a dagger drove deep into his chest. He fell and Savannah emerged, dressed in only her underwear, black hair flying. She dropped down and yanked the dagger from the man’s chest, her face set in stone. Red lights cast terrible shadows as our eyes met.

"Where?"

"They’ve infiltrated the mansion and the south barracks. They seem to have been trying to get the eastern one as well but they were alerted in time. They should be dealt with easily. The north and west barracks have already been called, they shall be offering back up soon," she answered knowing exactly what I wanted.

I nodded.

"Help those you can here, find Taylor, get her to safety. I will find the Empress."

She saluted.

"Yes Ma’am."

I turned to leave, and she called out, "General. Here," she threw her dagger to me, "you may need it."

I looked down at the stained blade, and nodded.

"Right," then I was off again.

I burst through the kitchen door, the sight that greeted me freezing me solid.

A man stood, his gun held up, aimed. Jasper stood at the other end of the kitchen, her back to the man, peering out a door, a kitchen knife grasped in her fingers. I could see the muscles in the man’s arm bunch, his finger start to close...

"JASPER!" I screamed and lurched forward, panic in my throat. Then Jasper spun, the kitchen knife flying from her fingers to plant itself in the man’s throat. The gun went off, blood sprayed, and we both dove for cover, our unnatural speed saving us from bouncing bullets.

I straightened to find Jasper standing over the body of the man she had just killed, her purple eyes were wide and glowing in the darkness, her face so pale the veins stood out in sharp contrast. Her eyes turned to me and all I could see was horror.

"Jasper..."I stepped forward but she jumped back, shaking from head to toe. I stopped, remembering all too well the feeling of killing someone for the first time. The only difference was that Jasper hadn’t torn the man to pieces.... or enjoyed it....

"Come on. We have to get out of here. Before more come," I told her and she seemed to come out of her trance. She stopped staring at the blood spreading around the man and looked at me, her eyes glazed and unfocused.

"Peter," she whispered and her hands grabbed at me, “we were in the library when they came and- he told me to run and I did but oh my god Megan he’s all alone up there and there were so many of them! So many… and I just ran. I didn’t know what else to do, Megan we have to help him! We have to go!”

Without waiting for my response she sprinted out of the kitchen, set on going back to where Peter had sent her away from.

I called after her, yelling that it wasn’t safe, but she was already gone. Cursing I ran after her, praying like I had never done in my life, that she would find Peter okay. Just please God, let him be okay.

I didn’t even realize that it wasn’t my voice that chanted those words. For Peter to be alright. Because he couldn’t go away. He had to stay. He had promised he would stay. I didn’t realize that I wasn’t the one who was suffocating, unable to breath around the fist that had closed around my lungs. It wasn’t my eyes that tears bled out of, or my mouth that sang wretched fearful sobs.

This all came from Jasper, and all I could do is tale after her, so caught up in her terror I could no longer tell where I stopped and she began.

It was like a surreal dream, images and flashes passing as blurs. Sounds faded into the background until all I could hear were the sounds of my heartbeat, of my breathing flowing in and out. All I could feel was panic, blind panic as I raced after Jasper as she raced to find the boy she loved.

Bodies fell everywhere. I heard gunshots, dark shadows danced against the walls. Jasper’s nightgown twisted around her running legs. Fire and blood, I heard screams and violence. The cold slide of steel, and the wet squish of spattered blood. And suddenly it was if I was running through my dream again, except this time I realized that it wasn’t MY dream. It was Jasper’s.
I had two seconds to think, to prepare, to realize what was going to happen next, before shots filled out clearly in front of us from the hanging doors of the library, and Jasper started screaming.

I grabbed her just in time, wrapping my arms around her thrashing form as she fought to reach the library doors. I turned her so she couldn’t see, her face against my shoulder. She raged against me, kicking and screaming, jumping and punching any part of me she could reach. I closed my eyes and held on, knowing that she could never reach the library, never see what I could see, through the two busted down doors.

Bodies littered the floor, dark forms in the swinging lights of sirens; all clustered around one still form on the floor. The sword in his hand was stained and covered in blood. The front of his vest peppered with numerous bullet holes, he laid leaning towards the doors, as if he knew she was out there, so close, yet so far away. His blonde was hair clotted with blood, and his pretty eyes wide and staring at me. Peter lay in a puddle of his own blood, a content smile on his lifeless lips.
And to my horror I knew what his last thoughts had been. It came to me like a whisper on a winter’s morning.

‘I protected her.’

And then I was crying, sinking with Jasper to the floor where all I could do was stare into those cold eyes, crying for a boy that had become my friend. Despair closed around me in a tight ball, obscuring all else. A void was opening within my chest, a giant ragged hole that gaped and yawned painfully. So much pain. I couldn’t think, I could only feel, could only drown in that sea of pain that wasn’t all my own.

Peter was dead.

He was gone.

He wouldn’t come back like I had.

“Peter!” Jasper cried with a hoarse voice as she tore from my grasp and began crawling towards him. I couldn’t even stop her. What was the point? He was dead.

But no it couldn’t be true. He had been fine and alive and happy and laughing just a few hours ago. He had been there, vibrant and golden at Jasper’s side, his blue eyes full of life and love. Just a small amount of time ago everything had been fine, everything had been happy. Yesterday we had all celebrated our birthdays together, this couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be true.
Now, looking into those same eyes, all I could see was flat, pale and all-consuming death. Death had stolen all that vibrancy, robbing Peter of his light, of his love. All that remained was a grey, lifeless corpse. He was really gone.

“PETER!” I flinched, Jasper’s cries cutting through the air like knives. Trembling hands reached out to touch his blood splattered face.

“No, Peter! Damn it no! You promised! You promised….you would be okay…. that you’d come back to me!!”

Her fist beat against his still chest uselessly.

“Jasper….” Her name came weakly to my lips, my hand lifting as if to touch her.

“No!” she screamed, her whole body shook from sobs as she collapsed on the already cold body of her beloved. Her hands clutched him to her as if her body heat alone would be enough to warm him once again.

“Don’t leave me…” she whispered against the torn fabric of his vest, “please don’t leave me alone… stay with me….you promised…you promised.”

“Jasper… its not safe…” I moved towards her cautiously, reaching down to put a hand on her shaking shoulder.

“Peter… Peter…” she didn’t even acknowledge me, only continued to sob his name.

“Jasper, he’s gone,” I said softly.

“No!” She whirled on me, smacking my hand away. Blood was soaked into the white fabric of her nightgown, striking in the darkness. With fevered eyes she glared up at me.

“He promised Megan! He promised….”

She lay limply across his body, her ear pressed against his chest as if she could still hear the heartbeat that was no longer there.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye…” her voice was no stronger than a breath, “Just one last goodbye…”

“Jasper we have to go,” I pleaded with her, yet afraid to touch her again.

“Why? What does it matter anymore…” her hand reached up to wipe a lock of hair away from Peter’s forehead. I couldn’t look at his face, at those eyes that stared into the world through death.

Loud gunfire echoed along the hallway and I knew we couldn’t wait any longer. Bracing myself I wrapped my hands around Jasper’s waist and hauled her away. She screamed, becoming a thrashing mass of limbs once more and all I could do was keep moving. The programming to my soul was the only thing keeping me from falling apart, my determination to get Jasper to safety the only reason I wasn’t curled in a ball sobbing.

Peter was dead.

And nothing could bring him back.

[End: Part Two Chapter Six]