Chapter Two
​I trudged through the halls, suspiciously. No one was ever here in the halls during night detention. Everyone was still inside the library waiting for the timer to end.
​The lights were off, causing more suspicion to creep into my head. How could that have freaked me out so much?
​The faint noise of a little girl’s voice beckoned me to creep forward. My legs began to carry before I knew it, and was even aware of it; I was already down the hall. As I walked by, my wings began to stiffen, catching wind of tension in the room.
​This was very unusual. Never had I felt like this before, not since my father’s presence anyway.
​Had he come back from the dark abyss? Was he here to try to convince me to join him? The answer was no.
I wouldn’t join the fallen angels to help destroy God’s forces. Even though I hated the thought of being a paladin of sort, I knew it was much better than a fallen angel was.
​“Knock….knock. Knock….knock,” the girl’s voice echoed. Her voice seemed to be getting louder in my ears, but as I turned, looking around the room, I did not see her.
​“Can you tell me, why is there something about you? What could you possibly have that reminds me of someone,” the girl questioned. Her voice started to deepen with each and every syllable that came out of her mouth.
​My heart stopped, my brain shot off commands left and right. This wasn’t normal. Why did she seem so creepy? What was going on with her voice?
​“What are you doing here,” I questioned.
​The bright red ribbon flapped in the newly discovered breeze that swept through the hall. I scanned the area for any passersby or an open window. Nothing.
​The girl’s bright blue eyes slowly deteriorated, pupils slowly disappearing from view. The sight raised goose bumps on my body. This wasn’t an ordinary smiley little girl. She was supernatural.
​Her light brown ringlets swayed in the pigtails that hooked down into her head. Even her beautiful red gown dissipated.
​“I know it; you’re an Angelus Dimidium, aren’t you,” the girl exhaled, licking her lips.
​There was one thing that was clear; this little girl was not a little girl. Inside her, a demon inhabited. I had never seen one up close before and never thought I would have to. I always thought I would just slip by until Judgment Day, but it seems as though I wouldn’t. Here I was, standing in front of a demon. It was very rare that a demon sought out a person.
​“You have no business here, demon. Stay away, I have taken this place,” I spat.
​The little girl smiled slyly. Definitely a certain aroma about her reeked Hell. I’d heard that they smelled of sulfur from the scorched skin that remained on their hollowed out faces.
​“You’re a Brackman. The infamous fallen angel’s son,” the little girl cackled.
​I scowled in disgust. The mention of the name Brackman forced my breathing harder. I was getting worked up; that was for sure.
​“It’s not Brackman! It’s Abbott,” I snapped. Why was I even talking to a demon? Why wasn’t I leaving?
​The girl glided down the hall, in front of me. Her eyes widened at the sight of the jaws in my face clenching. A grin spread across her face.
​“Your time is coming. The infamous are waiting for you. We’ll just have to see who picks recruitment,” the girl said aloud.
​I bit down on my tongue. The word recruitment stuck in my head. So they did want to recruit me. Sensei told me that it was very possible because the color of my wings. It was rare for an Angelus Dimidiam to have pearly white feathers. When you did find them, they were in a time of need. Sensei said it wasn’t good news, the color of my wings, I mean. He said that only the innocent were given the pair. I still wasn’t sure if that was true. I wasn’t innocent. I was almost the opposite.
​“The father awaits you, ready to have you make him proud,” the girl said.
​I clenched my jaw, acid boiling my blood. That line was not going to come true. I hated the man. I hated everything he stood for; all I wanted was to live in peace like a normal thirteen year old.
​“Fat chance,” I spat.
​The little girl frowned, opening her mouth. The sound of ‘s’ slipped off her tongue, interrupted by a vibrant golden shine in front of me. The light scorched my eyes, rendering me to cover my eyes. The burning sensation was not one I could handle. It was ten times worse than picking up a scalding hot potato from the oven.
​“Stand back, Demon! You have no jurisdiction over the kid. He is not yet ready,” a man’s voice bellowed.
​I moved my hand away, hoping the light was gone. My eyes didn’t melt when I saw the man, so I was pretty sure it was gone. There was still a slight glow around the tall, bulky figure in front of me, but not too much. His hair was no more, I couldn’t even see a patch of hair on his head. It was odd too, the man couldn’t have been older than thirty.
​Blue glistening wings shot out of his back, blocking the demon’s view of me. The man’s eyes were analytical, trying to catch the demon’s motives.
​I was surprised by this. This was not a fallen angel, this wasn’t Nephilim. This was an actual angel. The white robes gave that away, along with no scars on his body.
​“Stand back, angel. This Angelus Dimidiam is Nephilim. Son of Brackman,” the girl hissed.
​The angel turned to glance at me, his fuzzy brown eyes meeting mine. He was curious at this statement, but held his ground.
​“It does not matter the bloodline he has. It is his decisions that matter. Let the kid go and choose tomorrow,” the angel barked.
​The demon gave the angel a look of hatred, throwing mental daggers at him. From the look of the angel, the mental daggers bounced off him aimlessly.
​“And you stepping between this isn’t interfering with his choices,” the demon shouted.
​My heart thudded against my chest. This wasn’t going to turn out good. I outstretched my wings, feeling the tension melt away. Looking at my arm, I watched as the wing surpassed my fingers by at least four inches. My wingspan was much longer than it had been a year ago. I was coming to the end of a growth spurt. Sensei said that my wings should grow another good two inches before it stopped.
​“No. If want the boy, you have to pass through me,” the angel snapped, losing his calmness edge.
​The demon’s face twisted into a maniacal grin, spreading up the girl’s cheekbones.
​The angel’s face hardened, he pulled out a white staff, an inch in with and with its circumference about five. The wooden stick came to a dull point at the tip, chipped. I had never seen anything like it. The staff was much longer than I had expected. I couldn’t believe that an angel had pulled out a weapon as such as this.
​I couldn’t believe that an angel pulled out a weapon at all!
​
​“Run, Angelus, run,” the angel exclaimed, dashing forward.
​This wouldn’t turn out well. I scanned the area gasping as I turned. The principal watched in horror. His grey eyes narrowed on me, gawking at my wings. It was getting unbelievably hard to breathe in here.
​I held my hands up, it’d looked like the last patch of hair on his head and fallen off from the shock. His frail, short body pumped with energy.
​“Mr. Johns, I’m sorry about this. D-don’t scream or anything,” I stuttered. Mr. Johns’s face became expressionless.
​“Grayson, tell me this is a joke. T…tell me that those two are your little sister and father,” he said.
​I frowned. He wouldn’t listen to reason. I knew by the way he asked the question. He knew what he saw.
​I heard slithering behind me and spun around. The demon had exited the girl’s body and was coming for me. Its true form, an anaconda snake body, slid towards me.
​I looked around for the angel. He wasn’t behind the demon trying to attack. I glanced at Mr. Johns. His face hardened. He began stomping on the snake, trying to keep it away.
​“Run, Grayson! I don’t know what’s going on or even what these things are, but it’s the choices we make, right? I can’t hold it off long,” he huffed.
​My heart throbbed with pain. He couldn’t hold off the demon! It would kill him! I stood in place, thinking of what I could to banish this beast. I couldn’t let someone die for me again.
​“I told you to run,” a voice shouted. I turned around, just as a hand grabbed onto my arm and shot up.
​My heart leapt. He was getting out of here.
​“We can’t leave! He’ll die with that demon down there,” I yelled. The angel glanced back at me, shooting through the exit.
​“The man was wise, for a human. He will go to the Greatlands. It’s the decision in protecting you that took him there. Your life is precious,” he said.
​I brought my wings out to an arch, catching all the air resistance I could. I needed to protect Mr. Johns.
​“We can’t leave! He’s human! The demon will kill him without hesitation,” I argued. The angel huffed and slowed down, glancing at me. His eyes were full of patience.
​“If the demon wanted to kill the human he is already dead. And even if we did go back we couldn’t stop the demon without killing it. That is not possible for us,” he said.
​I grabbed on my right arm and tried pulling the angel’s hand away. It wasn’t budging. The angel did not want me to return.
​“If you were to kill that demon you would no longer be of the light. Your wings would turn black,” he grumbled.
​Black wings. I had only seen that once. Sensei’s black wings. Did that mean he was a black angel?
​My breath disappeared. There was no sign of air in my lungs. My mentor, my role model.
​“A-are you sure? I mean, all black wings can’t be bad,” I replied. The angel raised a brow.
​“You’ve seen one,” he questioned.
​I gulped. I couldn’t tell on the one person I looked up to. I couldn’t tell on the one person I trusted.
​“These people are highly dangerous. If you ever see anyone of that color you must report it right away,” he replied anyway.
​I felt as the wind brushed through my hair, blowing my bangs behind my ears. I needed a haircut desperately.
​I glanced down, finally paying attention to the landscape beneath us. The beautiful spiraled peaks of yellow and green twirled up to almost eight feet off the ground. The smell of the cornfield filled my nostrils, the sweet mixture of corn and honey sap. The bees nestled in the combination of wilting trees and smoldering green trees. The climate had recently changed from fall to winter in a matter of three weeks. The winter had come very early this year. It was only October and already we’d received an inch of snow.
​The country lands soon cascaded, our feet dragging in the already drying grass. I was surprised that the corn was still there. It was not time for corn so close to winter, it shouldn’t even have been possible, but by some miracle it was still here.
​I didn’t mind it. In fact, I wished it would stay there all year, but in a place like the small city I lived in, there was hardly any corn to view. I know it’s weird, but the corn reminded me of the life with my mother. I barely remembered the sound of her voice, let alone the details of her face, but I remembered the smells, the views. It was what I remembered most of my childhood. I understood that I was thirteen now, but my childhood was long gone.
​Snapping out of the trance, I realized we were no longer in the city limits. We were completely passing my house!
​“Hey! Where are you going? My house is right there,” I exclaimed. The angel glanced at me then back to the airways.
​As much as it was busy on the ground, it was in the sky. Once you got higher with altitude, at night, the skies were busy with the angels and Angelus Dimidiam rushing back and forth.
​“God instructed me clearly to take you elsewhere. Your grandfather has been notified and is already evacuating. It seems with the influence of your father in Hell, you’re top priority. You must not fall into their hands,” he expounded.
​My mouth fell open. That was so unfair! They were forcing us to leave our home! Our place of origin!
​“I don’t want to go! Why does it even matter? My Judgment Day is tomorrow,” I questioned.
​The angel tightened his grip as he swerved to the left in one quick swoop. Stupid angels not paying attention to what they’re doing.
​“Your deadline has been pushed back. He doesn’t think you’re ready and it doesn’t help that your location has been compromised. Your new Judgment Day has been pushed back to your sixteenth birthday. For now, you will be living under a new alias, Griffin West,” he grumbled.
​I closed my mouth. The angel had just flown into a swarm of flies. I didn’t want to make that mistake again.
​“I understand the whole, ‘moving you because the dark angels figured out where you live’, but why the new name? We could just as easily lie low,” I asked.
​The angel kept one eye on me and shot down with his arms above his head and his wings out. This also brought my arm up, keeping my wobbly in the air because of the unbalance.
​“Your father is top fallen angel. Keeping you under his name is not wise. It makes it easier for the seers to pick up your name,” he said.
​“But then why…”
​“Shh, no more questions. We are arriving to our destination. Your grandfather and sister will be waiting there,” he interrupted.
​I gazed down. The climate had completely changed. There were no longer signs of dead life or wilting trees. The beautiful clumps of tulips scattered the ground, unlike the spring dandelions back at home.
​“Where are we,” I gasped.
​“Tonto, California,” the angel replied.

Chapter Three
​“Griffin, get your…before you’re…late for school,”
​I yawned. The ringing of the liquid in my ears disturbed my slumber along with the curses of my grandfather next door to my room. The wind from my box fan swept my brown hair in swirls around my ears.
​I so badly wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but knew better. I hated the teenage functions in the mornings. The only good thing that came out of puberty was the change in voice I’d achieved since I was fourteen. Now, I was left with the overwhelming emotions, laziness, sleep deprivation and stress that grew more and more on my shoulders these past months.
​My wings fluttered as I sat up. The muscles ached in my back. There was a definite need to spread the wings today. I just wished I was able to do so in daylight. With the night of the raid, I was barely able to do it at night. I was easily recognizable with my white wings as it was.
​I rubbed my eyes and attempted to turn off my alarm, but nearly tumbled out of bed before I could reach it. Maybe it would do me some good.
​The creak of my door filled my ears. Gramps had come to check up on me as usual. The huffing as he walked in slowed. The poor man. His breathing had gotten worse since last year. Now, he had to carry around one of those canisters for air with tube in his nose. I didn’t know what they were called, but I was going to spend my day trying to figure it out. I knew better than to point it out to him. He was already ashamed of having the thing.
​He brushed his grey hair over to the other side of his balding head before coughing. I didn’t know what it was with the comb over with older men, but it was the same for every old greying man that I’d seen.
​Gramps’s dark blue eyes darted around the room, searching for my body. Once he finally spotted me, he scowled.
​“Get your…up. You’re going to be late. I can’t excuse you again,” he snapped.
​I frowned and swung over my bed. I understood that it’d been at least fourteen times that Gramps had excused me, but why put a limit on it? It wasn’t like I’d stay up past midnight to play videogames. I had been out helping other Angelus Dimidiam with their hideouts. Michael said I could help out with them after he left me the last time.
​“I’ll drive you to school. You have ten minutes,” he wheezed before leaving the room.
​My heart snapped in half. The wrinkles on Gramps’s face had sagged down lower than ever and the bags under his eyes toppled over each other.
​He was nearing age 113 and getting weaker with every waking moment. If his Angelus Dimidiam blood hadn’t coursed through his veins, he would’ve been dead long ago. It was about time he passed on to the new life, whether he made it to God or not.
​I didn’t like Gramps taking me to school, nor did I like that he was punished by my shortcomings. It was all my fault that he had to live with the hassle. I wished Mom was still alive to take care of us. Mom and Dad were together like Adam and Eve, but Adam had tempted Eve and Eve gave in willingly.
​God hadn’t been happy with another betrayal, a long line of betrayal had been started by the two. Now, I had to live up to my Gramps’s reputation or take up my parents’.
​Swinging the backpack over my shoulder, I knocked a picture off the nightstand. I sighed and bent down, almost toppling over with the weight of my book bag.
​The glass shards of the last picture I had of my mother laid in pieces. I cursed at myself for being so clumsy. I couldn’t believe my luck. It was as though God had put a curse on our family for betraying him in the end. He had warned us, but my parents did not pay heed.
​“What…was that…noise,” Gramps’s asked between coughs. I held up the remaining pieces of the frame with a deep frown. There went another picture. That was another disadvantage of puberty, clumsiness. I’d noticed that for quite some time now.
​“You…go ahead and fly to school. I’ll clean this up before you cut yourself on the way in. Just don’t let anyone see you take off,” he huffed.
​Some sort of spring released in my body, filling me with delight. A grin spread across my face, I just knew it.
​“You’re really going to let me take off without the knowledge of the angels,” I exclaimed.
​He gave a hesitant nod. I jumped up with excitement and pumped my fists.
​“Don’t attract attention to it. I’m old and can’t testify for you anymore. You’re about that age now, the time for Judgment Day,” he warned.
​“Okay, Gramps. I’m gonna leave,” I exclaimed. He shook his head nodding me off.
​I skipped down the steps and flung the door open. The sweet breeze flew past me, giving way to my wings. I let them slowly unfold themselves and closed my eyes. It had been a long time since I’d been able to go for a joy ride. I longed for the feeling of wind whip past me as I drove through the air resistance. I hungered for smell of fresh cut grass as my hand glided across it, catching every bristle of twig that glided across the tips of my fingers.
​I leapt up from the ground, scanning the area for humans, and then shot up. It was time for the actual thing instead of the daydreaming. Ricky had warned me of the daydreaming. He said I needed to use my head for other things, that my creativeness was rotting my brains. I begged to differ.
​The world needed creative minds to add spice to the slice of pumpkin pie; otherwise, it would dwindle in ever-loving monotone voices.
​I swooped down, my wings coming to an arch at my back and parachuting me down with ease. I felt as the feathers flapped in the wind, catching the warmth of the sun.
​Soon, I released the grip in my wings and came to a halt. My heart slowed. The sight of a face I shouldn’t have seen popped into my head. I gulped as the images of dark burgundy wings filled my eyes.
​The flashes flickered, fire decimating everything around the wings. A dark shadow kept forward. The crackling and snaps of the fire rang through my ears.
​I soon felt my body dropping, soaring down to the ground, but my legs were locked. I wasn’t in control of my legs.
​“Grayson…Brackman…” the voice penetrated through my wall.
​My heart skipped a beat. How did he know my name? What was going on with my head?
​“Your time has come,” he said.
​I shook my head, snapping out of it. I wasn’t going to listen to whoever it was, although it scared the crap out of me that he knew my name. It didn’t help that his eyes were black and hollow with fire crackling all around him.
​I put my feet out, skidding to a halt right in front of the school. I didn’t know when it came to it, but I had been drifting to the school subconsciously. My backpack was weighing my wings down, almost giving me a headache. I had to build those muscles back up.
​Peering around the corner of the school, I noticed only a few passersby that still stood outside. I had to hurry into class before I was late again. Gramps couldn’t handle it anymore, and wasn’t allowed to. They had already threatened him with social services last time. They were serious. I understood their point of views, but I hated them for it. My Gramps gave everything he had away for Theresa and I.
​I took a frustrated breath and walked into the school.



​I yawned, rubbing the tears from my eyes. Mrs. Achman droned on about the properties of the plant cells through her awkward, monotone-ish voice. My eyes rolled back many times, but I had to keep awake. My grades were already suffering for the consistent falling asleep in class, especially in science.
​I was just never interested in the science that much, not unless we were talking about space or DNA. It didn’t help that she never threw in activities or labs, just her monotone voice.
​I stretched out my arms, pushing them out in a ‘y’ form. The kid behind me moaned and shifted in his desk. I heard the creaking as he did so.
​Mrs. Achman glared my way, pushing the glasses up on her nose. I huffed. It wasn’t my fault!
​I was pretty sure she hated me. It wasn’t just the glaring at me that pointed it out, but it was also the constant picking at me, and the yelling. Oh, the yelling. One time she had actually talked bad about me behind my back. Boy, had I been angry. If Gramps hadn’t calmed me down, I was prepared to take it up with her, face to face.
​I supposed she hated me due to the constant fact that I fell asleep in her class, but also maybe because I had proven her wrong many times. I’d learned early in Tonto that the teachers here did not like be proved wrong. It wasn’t like I wanted them to hate me, but I had a strong belief in telling people when they were wrong so they could fix it.
​People were very different here from Knowings, the place I had been before this place. These people were very close-minded.
​“Mr. West, would you like to explain to everyone the difference between the prokaryote cell and the eukaryote cell,” Mrs. Achman asked.
​Her brow rose, waiting for me to come up with some lame explanation. Good thing I had read the chapter before class to better prepare myself.
​“In a eukaryote cell, there is a nucleus, but in a prokaryote cell, there is not. A prokaryote cell is also a plant cell, with cell walls and no centrioles,” I replied, smirking.
​Her mouth opened, about to say some snotty remark, but nothing came out. I gave a slight chuckle under my breath and watched her.
​“Yes…that’s correct,” she frowned.
​The room was spinning around me, strangely. I didn’t know what was happening. It was so all of a sudden. I swallowed hard as my breathing got heavier. The mucus thickened on my throat.
​“You’re Angelus Dimidiam blood is sweetening. Puberty is nothing compared to this. Just wait for the power you will have,”
​I scanned the room, searching for the source of the voice. The black dots raced over my eyes now.
​“The Infamous call upon your presence, Grayson Brackman,”
​Flashes of the man flickered before just like before, pacing a few steps ahead than the last time I’d seen him move. Dark burgundy wings stretched out, the man smiling.
​He stepped into the light, freezing my blood.
​“I call upon you, my son. It is your time to serve Lucifer,” he said.
​His dark hollowed out eyes certainly matched the shape my father had. His golden hair turned black the last time I had seen him, the magic leaving his body. The same egotistical sneer spread across his face. Even the scars had stayed in the same exact places right above his right eye.
​I gulped, my eyes widening. The angel had told me of this. He told me that they would try to contact through my mind as soon as they were getting close to recruiting me. I didn’t want to believe it then, but now I was forced to.
​“Never,” I growled. I felt the muscles of my wings begin to tighten for flight. I fought the urge to leap out of the classroom and run for my life.
​“That is not for you to choose, Grayson, although I would love for you to join your family by will. Lucifer must decide if you are worth the trouble, but I don’t think he’ll have a problem with that. I am his second in command,” he replied.
​My jaw clenched firmly, grinding my teeth until I thought they were going to snap.
​“I am not like you. Gramps raised me to know better,” I spat.
​“Oh, but that old fool knows nothing of true freedom. Nothing of the meaning of actual power, of free will,” he replied, fiddling with his fingers.
​I scowled. Gramps was not an old fool. He was the wisest man I knew, and the one I trusted most.
​“I will never leave him! He is my grandfather! He is my true parent,” I snapped.
​He rested his hand on his chest and gave a mocking look. He was toying with me. He must’ve been trying to figure out where we were.
​“We will not have to worry about that for long. He should be taken care of any second now,” he muttered.
​I felt a hand on my shoulder, jumping in my seat. I turned around realizing I was still in the room. I was still in the classroom.
​Ricky gave me a concerned look. It was rare that he gave one. I must’ve looked really freaked out.
​“Griff, are you all right? You look as though you’re about to pass out,” he questioned.
​His brown eyes looked hollowed out from the bags covering half his cheekbones. He flipped his wavy brown hair to the left, watching me with worry.
​“You leave my grandfather alone! He’s my family! He’s more my family than you are! HE didn’t abandon me,” I shouted.
​The room scorched into the dark dancing room full of shadows. Brackman stood there again, his face dropping to a scowl.
​“We’ve found you, Grayson. You’re going to be with family soon. I’ve missed you,” he said.
​My chest tightened. The black dots filled my eyes before I knew it, the fire scorching my hair and sweat blotting my forehead.
​“I…I will not let you hur…hurt my grandfather,” I mumbled, dropping to my knees.
​“I know you won’t, my son. That is why you are here,” he said.
​
​An ice-freezing hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back to reality. A second ago, I had been trapped deep in the depths of Hell with my father gawking down at me. I was lucky for the intrusion.
​“Mr. West, get up. I am not dealing with anymore of your sleeping spells. Go to the office,” Mrs. Achman commanded.
​I moaned, wiping my head. It came back full of sweat, as though someone had just poured oil down my head.
​My head killed me, as though a bomb had gone off in my head.
​Mrs. Achman rolled her eyes, resting her left arm on her hip. I looked around. I was on the floor; my face had smacked the hard linoleum. The students watched me in horror. Ricky crouched at my side, glaring at Mrs. Achman.
​“He just smacked his head on the floor! Blood is dripping down his face! Don’t you see that he just passed out? He needs to be taken to the nurse,” Ricky snapped.
​Mrs. Achman’s face turned in horror. She swallowed, nodding.
​“Get him out of here. I don’t want to see him,” she huffed.
​Ricky brought me to my feet, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He forced a smile, swinging the door open.
​The sweat poured down my face, drenching the front side of my shirt.
​“Don’t worry, Griff. We’ll be there soon enough. The nurse will see you,” he soothed.
​My lungs lurched out for air. The air never seemed to be enough. I allowed my body to slump in Ricky’s arms, resting my worries in on his shoulders. He could get me there.
​I closed my eyes, trusting that Ricky would keep my secrets.


​
​

Chapter Four
​“A fever of 101.8. Young man, you should not be here,” the nurse said, giving me a look of sympathy.
​“He wasn’t like this before he came to school. Maybe it was a heat flash or something,”
​The nurse smirked, her gray hair falling into her eyes.
​“No, heat flashes do not give you fevers, and it takes two weeks for your body to show symptoms,” she replied.
​“Oh,” he replied simply.
​I climbed down from the bed. The image of Brackman snapped into my head again. I had to get to home to Gramps.
​“I’ll get home to my grandpa. It’d be better for me to meet him there,” I said. The nurse gave me a disapproving look. Her green eyes held my gaze. Although I didn’t feel well, I had to leave.
​“Your grandfather will come here. You will not be going anywhere in this condition,” she argued.
​I pushed past her, determined to get to Gramps before they did. I needed to take off on my wings.
​A tight grip on my shirt pulled me back. I reared back, kicking Ricky in the shin. He instantly let go, cursing.
​“I’m leaving,” I growled.


​My wings flapped endlessly, only slowing as I turned. The fear in my body chilled me to the bone.
​“Grayssson Brackman, the reeeeecruuuuuiiiiiittt,” a voice slithered behind me. I slowly turned around, halting. Was this what my Brackman had meant by taking care of me?
​I held a gasp in. I’d only heard the stories of these creatures. A Mothman. The giant seven foot tall humanoid. Its fiery ember eyes scorched the ends of my hair. The dark black wings flapped in the wind, drawing near me. The resemblance between the humans and it were astonishing. The chiseled jaw, only grey, reminded me of Theresa’s. The scorched skin burst out with black blood, oozing out its mouth. The little few patches of hair stood up on its head. Even the arms held out with thick black nails that drew out three inches. Its legs were almost exactly the same, except for the lack of skin on its bones. I could not spot one centimeter of skin on its legs.
​The aroma of sulfur made me gag. It was very intense, overpowering even the smell of gasoline below me.
​“Mothman. You are far away from home. Why are you not in West Virginia,” I spat.
​The Mothman threw me a leathery smile. I scowled, trying to keep my mind conscious.
​“The ssssame question issss for you Angelusss Dimidiam. Your father hasss ssssent me to look after yyyooouuu,” the Mothman replied.
​A wave of nausea came over me, stinging my eyes. The Mothman smirked.
​“I sssee you have not yet been to Hell. That will all change sssoon enough. Your father hasss been busssy arranging your roooommmm,” It said, its squeaky voice cracking.
​I grinded my teeth at the mention of the name, ‘father’. He had not ever been my father. He would never be my father. He would always be Brackman. I was an Abbot.
​“You leave me alone, Mothman. He protects me. He is my master, not Lucifer. Brackman may have turned to him, but I do not,” I spat.
​The Mothman’s eyes grew into the dark red flames. It had been offended by the mention of His name. Good, maybe he would back off me.
​“You will come to Lucifer before long. You’ll realize that He does not care for hisss fooollloooweeeersssss,” It replied.
​“You’re wrong, Mothman. I will never turn from God. I have chosen my side already,” I said.
​It cackled, throwing wind my way. My muscles tightened, holding me in place. I had to get out of here.
​“We’ll sssseee about that when they’re dooooonnnnnneee,” It slithered once more.
​The emphasis on its last word in a sentence was beginning to make the hairs on the back of my neck rise in annoyance.
​I soared down, catching all the wind brought down by the Mothman. It was trying to slow me down going to Gramps. It was terrifyingly terrific. The angel warned me of fighting against such forces as these, but it was necessary. If I didn’t risk injuring my wings, Gramps could be hurt.
​“You ssshould know, Angelusss Dimidiam, that fighting againssst the Mothmen isss fuuutillleee,” It replied.
​Boy, did I want to attack the Mothman. The angel’s words repeated themselves to me, “To fight and kill would be to change the color of your wings to black.”
​I couldn’t change the color of my wings to Brackman’s. I couldn’t become him. That would be to betray Him in his mercy.
​The wind slammed into my face, almost knocking me out of consciousness. The Mothman’s power grew with the fear in my heart. I knew from when I was a kid that all the negative emotions like fear and jealousy fueled the evil creatures. I’d only experienced it once before as a child, the night that Brackman had tried taking all of us to Hell. He had stopped Brackman before he could, but that was before Brackman had changed the color of his wings.
​“Grayson, my dear boy, do not come home! Find your sister, hide,” Gramps’s voice screeched.
​My heart stopped. There had been fear in his voice. He had been attacked like Brackman said.
​This only fueled my energy more. I knocked down the Mothman’s wall of wind and dashed onto the ground. My wings folded behind me, allowing me to rip the door off its hinges and step into the small house.
​Where was the angel? He said he would be here when I needed him most! He said that he would protect me!
​My throat tightened, closing off the whimpers as I walked in. The house was torn apart. Our furniture was in pieces, the table I had constructed for Gramps for his birthday was in flames. The walls were charred, the TV screen cracked and on its side. The paintings Theresa had sent were punctured with holes. The bookcase had been thrown to the floor, shattering the vases of plants.
​A sob escaped my mouth. Our life had been in those things. All the memories were replaced by the anger.
​A slam echoed through the house. I jumped, startled by the sudden noise. I climbed the stairs three at a time, rushing to the hallway.
​“Gramps? Gramps, are you all right,” I hollered.
​A groan sounded off, coming from my room. My heart sped up. Was it Gramps? Had he run into my room to keep from being killed?
​The hallway was just as bad as it was in the living room. The shelves hung from one hinge, crooked on the wall. The pictures laid smashed on the floor, holes in the walls.
​I felt a crack under my foot, matching the cracked heart caused by fury. The thoughts of violence shouted through my head. I clenched my jaw, ignoring the evil thoughts.
​I rushed at my door, swinging it open.
​“Gramps? Gramps, are you all right? Please answer me,” I cried. The room was in ruins. All my life’s memories were torn from my head.
​My hands tightened into fists, the anger pulsating through my veins, the adrenaline picking up.
​A felt a chill as I looked around. The familiar sound of wheezing came from behind me. I spun around, relief filling through me. Gramps wrapped his arms around me. His hands were freezing, as though he had been playing in the freezer.
​“I told…you not to…come,” he muttered between coughs. I hugged him closer. I didn’t think I would ever see him again.
​“I know you did, Gramps. I was going to leave you alone,” I said. He pulled away from me, glaring me in the eye.
​“You could be captured, Grayson. You are not safe here with me,” he fretted.
​“But I…”
​I flew back, my legs flying from the ground. I crashed into the wall, smacking my head. I moaned, stretching out my wings. It felt as though someone had snapped them in half.
​I opened my eyes. Gramps was struggling with someone. I rubbed my forehead, catching the details this time.
​A tall man, twisted Gramps’s arm around. It looked as though it would snap. This brought my mind out of the fog that started to take me away.
​I pushed my legs off on the wall dashing towards the man. Gramps grunted, glaring down at me.
​“No, Grayson! Don’t,” he shouted. I slammed into the man, not able to stop my momentum any longer.
​The man grinned down at me, unfolding wings. My heart stopped. A Dark Angel. His black wings lurched out, pulling Gramps in. His black, soulless eyes opening wide. Decaying teeth peered out from his mouth, breathing out killer breath. His brown skin unfurling, revealing his organs.
​I slammed into the wall, gasping for air. The Dark Angel was stronger than I thought.
​I closed my eyes. Crashes, shattering and thuds bounced off the walls. My eyes snapped open. The Dark Angel and Gramps were gone. I leapt off the floor, fighting the trance trying to come over me.
​My window lay in pieces. I climbed over it, peering down, searching for the two. No one in sight. Tears covered my eyes, fogging my eyes. Rage darkened the corners of my eyes.
​My head throbbed. Gramps.
​“Gramps! Gramps where are you,” I cried. My heart snapped in half, the pieces shattering and descending into the dark abyss.
​ It was a long way down. Gramps couldn’t have survived that in his old age. The waterworks came, worsening the throbbing in my head.
​“It was his time,”
​I turned on my heels. Grimm stood there, holding his cane. His black cloak flowed in the wind. His hollowed out eyes glowed blue, sucking up the souls of the dead.
​Grimm was another one of those misinterpreted creatures of mythology. The name, Grimm Reaper, was his actual name. He was only another follower of God. An angel. His wings were just made translucent because of the spell God had put on him. This made him look more intimidating to the eyes of humans.
​The first time a human had seen him, the myth started, granted some of it was right, but it kind of ruined Grimm’s reputation. Now, he was revered as evil. I felt bad for the guy.
​He actually loved people. He had been to a few of my birthdays even. And he was hilarious! The life of the party, I gotta tell ya.
​“He had a few more years! He was trying to save me,” I exclaimed. Grimm pushed his blonde hair off his forehead and sighed.
​“I’m sorry, Grayson. I have to start before the Soul Suckers come,” he frowned.
​“He’s not dead! He’s not! He’s stronger than that,” I argued. He rested his hand on my shoulder.
​“He’s gone, Grayson. I can feel him,” he muttered.
​I pulled away from him, rubbing my eyes. I huffed, sitting on my bed.
​“Michael is coming. The fail to recruit you tonight will not be the last. There is still a few months before your decision,” he said.
​The hair rose on my arms. A cool breeze pushed past me, catching all the hairs on my arms.
​“You’re late,” I grumbled.
​The angel turned me around, boring down on me. His eyes glinted with tears.
​“It is all part of His plan, Grayson. Do not worry of your grandfather’s passing,” he said.
​His dark hair laid jumbled on his head. He looked like he had been in quite a few battles. His green eyes caught my eyes, calming me. I didn’t know what it was about Michael. He knew how to slow my breathing.
​“If you had been here then…then he wouldn’t be gone,” I said through clenched teeth.
​He gave me a frown. He shook his head.
​“Your grandfather served Him all the way. He is in a place of freedom and prosperity,” he said.
​I thought of Brackman, anger flashed through me. This was all his plan. He wanted me to be angry with Him, but I would not. Brackman wanted me to become an angel of dark.
​I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Michael couldn’t be held accountable for my mistakes.
​“I think it is time for you to know,” he sighed. I swallowed, thinking of what he could possibly be talking about.
​“I’m sure you’ve noticed the color of your wings are different from everyone else’s. They’re white,” he started.
​His face remained expressionless as he spoke.
​“Yes, I’ve been told that only an angel gets the color in a time of need,” I interrupted. He shook his head.
​“That is not all, Grayson. That is just the gist. White means in a time of need, yes, but so much more than that. It means that you are not just an Angelus Dimidiam. You are what they call Anael, graciousness of God,” he said.
​What on Earth, did he mean by Anael?
​“You’re an Archangel, Grayson. You’re made from two kinds of angelic blood, making you full angel, kind of anyway. He has made you one of his main servants, one of the seven,” he said.
​I held out my hand for him to slow down so I could catch my breath. I was an Archangel? How could that be?
​“That’s got to be a mistake! I’m…I’m just a kid. I can’t be one of the seven. Don’t you already have the seven,” I replied.
​He rubbed the back of his neck, stretching out his bright white wings. I’d never noticed that they’d been white. How hadn’t I noticed that?
​“We aren’t like the humans theorize. The seven isn’t just one group of individuals. It is a group of seven angels handpicked by Him. Angels don’t live forever like you believe. We replace each other in rotation. As soon as one dies, then the others die soon after. Your time is up,” he said.
​My heart stopped. That couldn’t be true.
​“Are you saying that I’m going to be His personal messenger,” I questioned. Michael nodded. His green eyes seemed to be hiding something.
​“What are you hiding,” I questioned. He stood up, pacing.
​“In the Jewish myths, they have seven angels, yes, but they were wrong on a name. The name we gave ourselves, is Anael, which again, means graciousness of God. In the Jewish myths, they call one of the seven, Anael. That is not true. It is our group name,” he began once again.
​I threw my arms up. This was really starting to get annoying. Why couldn’t he just tell me what it was I needed to hear?
​“I know this is all confusing, so I’ll just say it. You’re going to replace one of the seven, Anael, yes. You’re going to replace me, Grayson,” he blurted.
​My mouth dropped open. Not Michael! I couldn’t replace the first Archangel in command!
​“No! No, I’m not going to be you! You’re…well…you,” I protested.
​He stopped and looked into my eyes.
​“You have a couple months, but I’ve got to warn you. Once you become sixteen, Lucifer is going to try to get his hands on you before we convert you,” he said.
​No really? I hadn’t figured that out by the numerous demons and creatures from Hell chasing me!
​“Why me then? Why would you choose the offspring of the second dark angel in command,” I asked.
​Michael smiled, folding his arms.
​“It doesn’t matter where your blood comes from. All that matters is the will to carry out in faith,” he said.
​“Enough talk about this, though. Now it is time to relocate,” he said. My heart lurched. I couldn’t lose my friends again. I couldn’t leave.
​“No, Michael. I’m not leaving anymore. I’m not going to leave friends or this town,” I hissed.
​Michael scowled, lifting his wings up. He was ready to take off in flight.
​“You’re in danger just standing here now, Grayson. You really think they’re going to let you sit here,” he grumbled.
​I shook my head, unfolding my own wings. He was going to try and take off with me in his arms. He did it when I was a child, but I had news for him. I’d gone through puberty and gotten stronger. He was going to have to use a lot more force than he was planning on using.
​“I’ve already left my life once before because Gabriel had forced me out of the school, but now I have a life. I’m a lot stronger than I once was,” I growled.
​I scanned the room for Grimm. He was now gone. I wonder how long ago he had done so.
​“Grayson, you may be the replacement for me, but that doesn’t mean that you receive special treatment,” he said, holding back anger.
​I held my ground, stretching out my wings. The look of determination spread across his face as he shot forward.
​He grabbed onto my arm, twisting and leaping off the ground. His wings fluttered as hard as they could before reaching the wind outside, and rushing down.
​He flapped his wings harder, huffing. I pulled back, blocking his movement with my wings out. I wouldn’t give in to this decision. They may have taken my Gramps, my parents, my friends as a kid, but not this time. His anger only fired me up more.
​He sighed and dropped to the ground, tackling me to the ground. I landed on my back coughing. He pinned my arms down, restricting my arm strength. Smart angel.
​“Fine, Grayson. Calm down, let me negotiate,” he grunted. I glared, relaxing my arms. Angels couldn’t lie so he’d better not being trying to trick me.
​“I understand you’re human emotions are clouding your judgment. I’ll try and make something work. How about I talk Theresa into moving back to Tonto,” he suggested.
​That sounded good to me. I didn’t want to move and knew that if Michael really fought me with all his strength, I would be already whisked off to another town.
​“As long as I don’t have to move from this place. This is my life, my whole life,” I replied.
​Michael stood up, pulling me up as well. His grip tightened on my arms, letting me know that he was fully aware of how to make me listen.
​“Go back to school, Grayson. I’m already out of my mind for letting you out of moving. If you don’t listen, I could just take you away. Go to Ricky’s after school,” he commanded.
​The pressure lifted from my arm. I sighed, feeling the relief. He let his glare go and shook his head.
​“I still don’t know why He replaced me with an Angelus Dimidiam. For all the candidates He could’ve picked,” he said under his breath.
​He took one last look at me, and leapt from the ground, shooting off towards the sun.I sighed and flew off in the other direction. I would listen to him for once.

Chapter Five
​“You’re back. Why are you back, Griff,” Ricky questioned. I shrugged and forced a smile.
​“I felt better and Gramps wasn’t feeling all that well. Maybe it was just some weird reaction to the school’s lunch,” I lied.
​Good thing I wasn’t a full angel. That would not have been good at all for my reputation.
​I almost cried at the sound of his name slip from my mouth. It was still hot in my head. The tears reached the corners of my eyes. I held back a sob, my throat tightening.
​“That sucks, dude. I would’ve stayed home and skipped the rest of the day,” he said, patting my back.
​“You wouldn’t have if you saw the place. It was terrible,” I blurted. At least there was truth to that statement.
​“Well, just the next two classes to get through,” he said. I nodded, and remembered the request.
​“Hey, Rick, would you mind me coming over after school? I don’t want to go home to see that so quick,” I asked. He shook his head.
​“I don’t care, and hey, my mom loves you,” he smirked. He let go of a breath. He didn’t know how much help he had given me. Sometimes, through the hard gruesome days of living in hiding, he was the only thing that kept me going. That was why I couldn’t leave. Ricky saved me from myself. Ricky needed me. I needed him.
​“Thanks, dude. You’re a life saver,” I said. Quite literally.
​I held the door open for him, allowing him to slip in before the bell rang. I took my seat and waited for class to start.


​“Griffin, your uncle is here! And your sister,”
​I looked to Ricky. His eyes widened.
​“Why didn’t you tell me that Theresa was coming? I could’ve better presented myself,” he exclaimed.
​I chuckled softly. Ricky had had a crush on my sister since freshmen year, and was depressed when she moved. I had almost forgotten about that. It’d been so long since I’d seen her myself. Now she was here, not under great circumstances.
​He brushed his hair back, gelling it up right away. I stood up from his bed and grabbed my backpack.
​“I’ll meet you down there, Romeo,” I snickered. Ricky shot me a glare and looked into the mirror.

​“I’ve just been busy, Mrs. Martin. I promise I would’ve come to see Griffin if I hadn’t been so busy,” Michael sighed.
​Ricky’s mom stood firmly, folding her arms and batting her chocolate brown eyes. Her hair was held in place with about a bottle’s worth of hairspray. Ricky had taken his pride in looks from his mother.
​It looked like she was giving Michael a hard time. I held in a laugh as I descended the stairs.
​“Griffin is a good boy and has enough pressures as it is! Don’t you start making life hard on him. His grandfather has done just fine with him,” she scolded.
​“Okay, Mrs. Martin. I understand, I promise not to do anything to harm the boy. I just brought his sister here to see him,” Michael grumbled.
​“That’s right Mrs. Martin. Thanks for looking after him. We always enjoy coming over here,” Theresa smiled.
​Her pearly white teeth peeked out at me. It’d been a long time since I’d seen her. It was good to see her again. Her blue eyes gleamed in the room full of grey. The light brown hair she’d inherited from my mother. Her tall lanky legs were hidden under the long black skirt she always wore. It came down to her shins, hiding almost all the freckles on her pale skin.
​The purple shirt she wore on her eighteenth birthday lay perfectly on her chest, unbuttoned to the third button.
​“Griffin. I’ve missed you so much,” she exclaimed, seeing me. She wrapped her arms around me, tears slipping down her cheeks. That was all I needed. It was clear that Theresa felt the same way I did about Gramps’s death. He had died too soon. We should’ve been able to pay him back for all that he’d done for us. We should’ve been able to tell him we were thankful for his leaving his life. If it hadn’t been for him, we would’ve been at Putti’s Orphanage. We would’ve been alone.
​“He’s gone,” I whispered. A sob escaped my mouth. The tears had become too much for my head, for resistance. The great sadness rested on my chest, forcing me to let it all out.
​Gramps was gone and with him the memories of happiness. The only thing I could feel at that moment was despair. I couldn’t think of any other feeling.
​“Don’t you worry about that Gray, we’ll work through this. I’ve missed you so much,” she cried.
​I closed my eyes, resting there until she pulled away from me. Her mascara had smeared down her eye sockets. Some of it even went down her cheekbones.
​“Well, that’s love if I haven’t seen it,” Mrs. Martin barked.
​I looked over at her. If only she knew. I was sure that in a few days, the news would spread throughout the city, but we needed longer. We needed years to mend the broken pieces of our lives.
​“Thanks for letting me come over, Mrs. Martin. We’d better get home so we can catch up,” I said. She nodded, giving me a hug.
​“Take care of yourself, Griffin. If you ever need anything, we’re here,” she assured.
​I rubbed my eyes and nodded. She was so sure that she could fix all my problems. If only she could. If only I could be normal with Ricky for at least a little while.
​
​Once we stepped out of the taxi, Theresa and I began sobbing again. Our hearts were still healing.
​“Grayson, this is where the two of you will be staying until your sixteenth birthday. Don’t attract any more than average attention and lay low. You’ll need it so that they can’t find you again,” Michael told me.
​I nodded slowly, showing him I comprehended. As soon as he was gone, I knew both of us would begin crying again. Gramps had been a big part of our lives.
​The apartment building was made of dark grey brick, at least five stories with the small yellow tinted windows. Smoke emerged from the tiny circular pipe at the top of the building.
​The place looked like a prison compared to the small cottage we had lived in. The black metal gate laid open, waiting for our arrival. I coughed the exhaust from the taxi as the tires squealed away. This atmosphere was terrible. The humans needed to learn to take better care of the place God had given them.
​“This is our new home,” I whined. Michael nodded gazing up at the pipe in disgust.
​“You gave me so little time. If we had arrived to our destination, which by the way, I had already set up, we would’ve had better options,” he replied.
​“It wasn’t my fault that you planned to whisk me away without a moments’ hesitation,” I exclaimed.
​Theresa shook her head at me, letting loose her wings. She was angry. Opening her wings was one of her habits that she did during a moment of frustration.
​I sighed, knowing she was right. I had to knock it off.
​“Alright, alright. I’m done,” I frowned. I understood why they did it, but it still angered me.
​I didn’t care if I was one of the seven angels of prophecy. I wanted to be normal.
​“Theresa, if anything goes wrong, if you see anything suspicious you must not hesitate to signal us. Your father will be desperately trying to get his hands on him,” Michael told her.
​Theresa nodded, looking at me worried. I knew what she was thinking. I was her little brother, our father’s son. She wanted to protect me, she wanted to protect herself, but as long as my wings were white, we would never be left alone.
​“I understand, Michael. I will do whatever it takes to keep him safe until it’s his time,” she replied.
​Michael forced a smirk, and unfolded his wings. His eyes met mine. He was trying to keep from being here too long. He didn’t want to have to deal with those pesky half-human emotions.
​