Follow The Raven

I lied down on the bed in the cabin that the captain gave us (unfortunately Damian and I have to share living quarters due to lack of space, apparently), thinking about everything so far. The world of the dead is basically like the land of the living, except you have all these amazing creatures roaming around. When you die, your soul comes here and does exactly what it did in the land of the living. If you were a janitor while alive, you're a janitor now that you're dead. If you were a king while alive, you're still a king but you probably don't have much power. The monarchies are always feuding to see who is in control, but in reality, none of them are; just don't tell them that.

Basically, what you are in life, you are in death. Kind of cruel when you think about it...

But that's not the point, the point is this whole dilemma going on in this world. See, there are three types of angels: heavenly, fallen, and dark. Heavenly angels can only be found in heaven, and on Earth for special circumstances only; if a heavenly angel is in this world, its a fallen. The fallens aren't good enough to be heavenly angels. Either they committed a sin or they're just not good enough in spirit to have white wings.

Dark angels, are on a completely different level than the other two. Dark angels are incredibly rare for some unknown reason. They are either born that way, or they reach a level of no return, an emotional or psychological point that just sets them off. Dark angels are also permanent, unlike fallens and heavenly angels, they can move back between fallen and heavenly. Dark angels on the other hand, once you become a dark angel, you can never go back. That's probably why their the most powerful of the three. Why? Don't know actually, I should look into that...

Anyway, fallens are one of the largest races in the world of the dead. We don't really know where they all come from, or where they all are, but apparently they're pretty organized. They're trying to take over this world, attacking villages first, then towns, then slowly going for the cities. They're apparently doing very well with their plan of world domination because fear rushes through the lands just by the mention of fallens.

I turned onto my side trying to go to sleep. I haven't slept in days, since I was in my room and in my bed actually, that's how long I've been awake, and let me tell you, sleep deprivation is not pleasant at all. No wonder they use it as a torture method.

"So, you've found a victim," I heard from the other side of the room making me jump. I looked around trying to find the owner of the voice, but my eyes aren't supernatural yet, so I looked around the darkness blindly.

"I meant the captain, to answer your questions," he said, apparently reading my questioning look. Damian. Of course.

"Move over," he said, basically shoving me to the side of the bed and lying down next to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, inching away from him, only to have both of his arms wrap around my waist and pull me back.

"Protecting you," he replied, like it was nothing. Right, nothing. A vampire basically keeping me hostage in bed, that must be normal in this world.

"Can't you protect me from, oh I don't know, the other side of the room?" I asked, trying to get out of his grip, only to have him hold on tighter.

"Why, do I make you nervous?" He taunted, a smirk most definitely forming on his face.

"No, not really," I lied, but still sounding convincing. Pat on the back for me.

"But I do cherish my personal space," I said, trying to pry his arms off, only to have them wrap around my arms too. Great, now I'm really a hostage.

"Not anymore," he replied, trying to close the discussion.

"Why am I being held hostage again?" I asked, a few minutes later, just to annoy him. He growled, turning me completely around so I could face him.

"Why do you ask so many questions?" He asked, a tone of annoyance in his voice.

"Why don't you ever answer any of them?" I asked back, not at all afraid of him, probably a mistake on my part.

"I don't think you understand the situation you're in," he said, turning me around completely to face him and probably glaring at me in the dark.

"There are many things that would just adore ripping you to shreds, on this ship included," he seethed.

"And to answer your question, don't expect me to do it often, you are being 'held hostage' because I need sleep too. I'm not going to watch you all night, so if anything tries to get to you while we're both sleeping, I'll be the first one to know about it," he explained, turning me back around and tightening his grip again. I had many more questions to ask, but after that little ordeal I thought against it, trying to get as comfortable as I could manage. Its rather hard mind you, sleeping in the arms of a bloodsucker against your wishes.

But what he said got me thinking. He's right, I really don't understand the situation I'm in. The werewolf the day I got to this world should have been a warning, but it all happened so fast, I couldn't really grasp it until now. Creatures are going to be jumping at me until I'm either dinner or I've finished turning.

Something else that hit me was the fact that Damian is also a threat. There is nothing to keep him from killing me, and I'm sure that he's tempted on occasion. So why is he here? Why did he help me that day? He said that he had planned to have a nice meal if Oliver and Amy hadn't come in, but he had the opportunity. He had more than enough time to do, so why didn't he? Why is he helping me?

My brain went into overdrive on this new enigma, and it probably took me hours before I finally called it quits and tried to sleep. If I don't sleep during the night, I'll sleep during the day. There's nothing to do anyway, other than pester the captain who happens to be my only company, what with Damian running off into the fresh air and leaving me behind in the stuffiness. How cruel, even in this world, if your incredibly tired, its the only time you struggle sleeping.

Something I probably forgot to mention is the fact that there is no sun in this world. Well, there is, but its always cloudy, always, giving the sunlight-sensitive creatures more freedom. Not only that, but since this world is much larger than the land of the living, the days here are much longer as well. Instead of 24 hours, one day lasts 42. Why 42? I don't know, because its 24 written backwards? I'll ask Captain Dover if I remember when I see him in the morning.

---

"Wow, you look like hell," Damian remarked, sitting across from me at breakfast.

"Thanks," I sneered, trying to keep my eyes clear. I miraculously fell asleep last night, but I think I only stayed asleep for a grand total of three hours. Three hours isn't good on the 24-hour scale, but you can imagine that its torture on the 42-hour scale.

"Poor night's sleep?" The captain questioned, sitting at the head of his table.

"I guess I'm still getting used to this whole thing," I said, managing to grab some toast and butter without breaking anything. That's a miracle in my book. I'm not graceful alive, I'm certainly not graceful half-dead from lack of sleep. I already tripped on three different chairs that weren't even close to me. Don't ask how I did that either.

"Aw, did I make you that uncomfortable?" Damian smirked, getting a buttered piece of bread to fly completely past his head. Okay, maybe I should refrain from throwing anything. He looked at it fly by, then turned back to me with a questioning look.

"That was aimed for me, right?" He asked, a smirk on his face. Too tired to even bother getting annoyed.

"Yes," I replied, sensing an argument coming up. I grabbed another piece of toast, I still haven't had a bite yet. And where they get toast and bread from, I don't know either.

"Wow, you're either really lacking on sleep or your aim is absolutely horrible," he commented. I glared at him.

"Leave the girl alone, Mr. Rocheburne," the captain cut in before I could reply. Yeah, that's it, let those two fight, I'll just sit here and use the table as a pillow.

After breakfast (or the borderline war between Damian and the captain), Damian went off somewhere, the captain left to do rounds around the ship (make sure everything is in order), and I glued myself to the windows in the captain's office. I felt sick as a dog. I barely ate two pieces of toast, that tea is really sticking to my stomach, I have a horrible headache and I feel like I could pass out at any given time. Captain Dover says that we're starting to get into the deeper part of the North Sea, so the water is absolutely horrible. The ship is rocking around like a cork in a washing machine, and let me tell you, that is not helping me at all.

In the absence of my two supervisors, I took the opportunity to change out of that incredibly uncomfortable dress and into a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. The kids had been right in basically shoving my entire closet into the bag. I wonder how they're doing and if they got away from those vicious canine-beasts. I still don't know what those are either, I should ask.

But for now, I am content in having my face glued to the window and watching the going-ons outside. Since we're out at sea, you can probably guess that not much is going on outside, other than the ridiculous amount of waves and the occasional seaserpent flipping out of the water. At least I think they're seaserpents. Out of my lack of sleep, I could be hallucinating for all I know, but I'd like to think that I'm not...

Actually, considering how those things look with their rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth and ginormous size, I might in fact prefer to be hallucinating them.