Her Resurrection

My feet pelt on the cobblestone path of the abandoned street. The noise of my trainers pounding against the porous rock ricochets on the terraced houses, but the noise is still quiet enough to keep me mostly hidden. The muscles in my legs begin to burn as I push myself, forcing every step, going further and further to my destination.

Exhaustion, slowly beginning to take over my body, if I don’t stop for a break soon, I’ll probably drop. But I refuse to stop pushing now. I’m not willing to miss this opportunity. I’ve got no choice, I’ve got to make it. The leather leggings hugging my legs make it easier to move, less can be said for the bulky shithouse of a jacket. The piece of shit is making my arms sweat in places I didn’t know could. My white tank top would have to be enough cover for now. Without losing pace, I fling the leather jacket to the ground, leaving it without a second glance. The piece of shit belongs on the floor.

This is my last chance, if I fail now, I would undoubtedly be dead by dawn. That was if I didn’t have my magical superpower. My ability to not stay dead. Sometimes, very rarely, I wonder why I couldn’t just stay dead, and enjoy my time in Eden. I’ve done my share for this world, some solace would be perfect right about now.

My jet black hair, which on second thoughts should really be in some sort of bun or top know, whips me across my face forcing the worrying thoughts to the back of my mind. I need to be 100% concentrated on completing this task. If I don’t get this shit done, and soon, some fucker was going to lock me up until the end of time. The actual world depends on me getting this done, and I don’t know who decided that, because I, Arielle, am a walking disaster. I may be a Valkyrie, one of the strongest warriors to walk the Earth, but I’m sure as shit clumsy as fuck. I’ve been known to be tripped, by my own feet from time to time. I’ve punched mirrors when I’ve turned and startled myself with my own reflection. What can I say? I am who I am.

Thankfully, the moon seems to be my ally tonight. The light it’s casting is making the perfect shade of shadows, letting me manoeuvre safely throughout the street. I flit between shadows, trying hard to escape the streetlights, as though I’m a prisoner about to be caught in a strobe light.

Running at a steady, superhuman speed, the moons already stabbed me in the back, no longer providing me with the refuge of the shadows. Asshole. No wonder they call him the man in the moon. Typical dick move. Assessing my surroundings, I decide I need to be up high, at a vantage point, and I need to get there fast. I quickly checked my area, spinning and running backwards for a second to make sure I was not being followed or watched. Quickly, I bend my knees and push, leaping high up onto the rooftops like it was no trouble at all, landing gracefully without slowing down. Sometimes being superhuman was great. Sometimes.

As I drop and jump between the rooftops, I see my surroundings perfectly. Wooden white shutters line the street and beautifully flowered hanging baskets swayed in the slight wind I create with my swiftness. Had I been a normal human being in this life, maybe if of liked to live here. Sitting on a balcony, with Karen gossiping about the whole neighbourhood.

Alas, there is nothing normal about me and my life, and the sad thing was I love it that way. Not everyone got the chance to experience and see the things I had over the hundreds of years I’d existed. I wasn’t about to throw that all away, just to sit and sip some tea with a Karen.

Neigh, I crave the excitement of what I do day in and day out. Killing demons, cleansing the world. A small smile spreads on my face as I spot my destination in the distance. Excitement and anxiety creep into my stomach, butterflies fighting the anxiety away. This is what I always crave, the fight and battle to the death. A war I knew I’d always win. Being unable to die had the certainty of victory. Even if they do get the upper hand and off me, I could come back quicker than they could claim their victory and slit their throat.

As I close in on my destination, I see that a tiny church sat upon an even smaller hill, no larger than a small house. White wood panels line the outside of the building, creaking with anticipation of my arrival, almost as though it knows I’m coming to purify. The black roof looms from its throne above the houses, and the cross of the almighty sat perched at the front. Hardly surprising that this was the place. I could feel the creepy as fuck vibes wafting all the way over here. Good job I thrived off creepy. I was the Queen of creepy. Especially when I went feral, covered in blood, brimming with happiness.

As I reach the end of the rooftops, I drop to the ground almost silently from the safety of my vantage point. I place my back flat against the cold brick of the building, checking every point around me ensuring it was clear. Satisfied, I crouched and stealthily slid my way across the street and up the stone path to the haunting black doors. As I slowly make my way up the stone steps, the grass lining the hill is beginning to wilt, turning grey and black. Something was siphoning the energy inside.

“EW.” I hiss, as I sidestep right into some dog shit. I guess some people in this town weren’t believer’s in the almighty. I didn’t blame them, the holiness wasn’t exactly how the bible made out.

There was a Jesus, but he wasn’t the almighty saviour. He was a Nephilim who thought he could do as he pleased. So he came down here, ploughed his way through women and alcohol, telling people he was this amazing being. Who wrote the bible you ask? Well, guess who’s undercover work was as an author? You guessed it! Jesus. He wrote all that shit about himself. I chuckled as I think of the irony.

The thing is, Angels aren’t supposed to make themselves known, and once the Almighty Angels of Eden find out, suddenly you’ve earned yourself a cushy spot up there. Forever. Maybe that would be how I could find my peace. Making myself known somehow so they have to whisk me away and erase the memories of humans.

Getting my mind back to the job, I reach for the door my hand touching the cold doorknob, electricity flowed through my arm, scaring away the last of my anxiety. Only excitement remains in the pit of my chest, craving the death that I was about to give. A shiver of pleasure pulses over my body, almost making me moan. Strange, I don’t usually feel this way about a battle.

I turn the knob slowly, and the heavy door opens with a creak. Fuck. Hopefully whatever is inside here didn’t hear me. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll kill them before they touch me. Keeping my position, I shut the door silently, and make my way behind the pews.

Six cloaked beings stand in a circle around the altar at the end of the aisle that runs down the centre of the pews. The black hoods of the cloaks cascaded to the ground. Smoke billows around them, their aura as black as night. They stand on nothing but thin air, floating while they try to complete their ritual. Crackles of purple magic leave their cloaks, connecting to a point in the ground. The sacrifice. A mutilated black cat lay in the centre of a pentagram, surrounded by a mini tornado of black smoke and purple magic that resembles lightning. And as any normal ritual, some tea lights, and candles finished with a sprinkle of black rose petals, just to set the mood. Stereotypical as fuck.

Ducking behind the pews, I dart in and out of the aisle, on silent feet, ensuring I don’t get exposed. When I reach close enough, I sit on the ground, with crossed legs, the coldness of the ground caresses my aching leg muscles. I place my hands together and whisper the word that will begin my slurry of death. ”Chiaroscuro.”

The hairs on my arms tingle as the magic starts to crackle golden between my hands. As I open my arms 30 inches, a golden sword appears between my hands, ready for me to wield, ready to drink the souls that it destroys. Chiar, as I like to nickname her, begins to hum in excitement. She’s ready and so am I. She is me, and I am her in battle, one force of death and destruction.

I had six to kill. Too easy. They didn’t look too hard to handle. Demons are stupid. They don’t think about their situation before they fight. They go straight for the kill, without thought of their surroundings. That’s where I’ll be, everywhere at once, a shadow of death whispering around them in silence.

Silently I jump in the air and land in the middle of their circle, stomping on their pathetic attempt at a ritual. I stare at the demons, feeling the strength of their magic trying to penetrate my own. Their magic is shared, and connected to one another. Interesting.

I place my foot behind me, in my fighting stance, but my foot slips slightly as though I’m slipping on ice. I look down at my trainer, the white sole stained red. Cat guts.

“For fuck sake dudes, I love these shoes. Do you know how hard it is to get rid of the smell and stain of cat guts?! FUCK!” I shout, shaking my foot, the guts slopping to the ground. A scowl formed on my face, furiously.

I can’t believe my life was threatened for this shit. I’m sure he was sending me out on these shit jobs as some sort of joke. The world depends on you, Arielle. Pfft, yeah, I’m sure the world will only survive if I trod in dog shit, AND cat guts all in the space of 10 minutes. Of course, I was going to finish this, who did Micheal think I was?

The electrifying purple magic stops abruptly and deafening screams echo through the church. The noise was coming from all 6 figures, shouting and screaming in unison. They were pissed.

“You may have found us Valkyrie, but we have found him, and he will come back to the forsaken ground and bring the end of time.” The voice speaks from nowhere, in particular, carrying about 5 different tones making it sound demonic.

“Well then, shame you six won’t be around to witness it.” I finish my sentence with a swing and slice of my sword through the centre of the first shroud of smoke, a bright glittering, golden light explodes, crackling through the smoke, until every bit of the being had disintegrated to the ground. All that’s left in its wake is a pile of purple glittering ash.

The remaining five lurch back in agony as their brother floats to the ground. This is exactly what I expected when I felt their shared magic. A fragment demon. One demon who can split themselves up to 6 times, all connected at all times, feeling everything the rest feel. This would be easier than I expected. I didn’t need the sword, but she so desperately wanted to drink this soul, so that’s exactly what she would get.

Chiar is so weightless in my hand as she swings in the air like a perfectly piloted jet plane. Flying at speeds that no human could ever see. As I twist and spin my body to hit my targets I become a shadowy blur, I take down two more fragments effortlessly without even breaking a sweat.

A sting in my ribs makes me falter for just a second. A strange buzzing feeling tingles under my skin. Embedded inside my waist, a purple rod of lightning juts outward. The shadow figure responsible already conjuring another, almost ready to pelt into me again.

“Asshole.” I hiss as my golden magic disintegrates the rod, healing any damage that he had caused me. I storm towards the shadow, kicking the heel of my shoe when I read him into its arm. Floating, it stumbles back as an invisible force bashes my head sideways, twisting my neck. I stumble but quickly regain stability, shaking my head, and a feral growl of anger leaves me. Hauling myself upwards, I wrap both legs around the hood of the cloak, and fling myself towards the ground, twisting making sure the figure lands first. Before it can retaliate, I stand, a foot on either side of where its ribs should be and thrust my sword down into the darkness of the hood.

The golden magic lights up the shadows inside, and the black scaly skinned demon begins to writhe in pain, its eyes popping from the holiness that it’s trying to fight. A few seconds later nothing but ash remains where the cloak was.

The other four begin to scream and I can feel the darkness of their magic trying to penetrate my purified soul, but I’m way too strong for them. Their magic barely penetrates my skin, only causing an annoying tingle. My kind wasn’t so easily infiltrated. Stronger had tried, and stronger had failed.

One of the four remaining fragments must be the original which will be slightly harder to kill than the rest. However, with two parts of its darkness already destroyed, it would still be no challenge for me.

Crouching to the ground, I have the sword ready to attack when they come close, but they don’t move. Stillness surrounds me, the four remaining fragments are so still as though they’re statues, not moving. The air around me feels as though it has been frozen in time, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. I glance at my watch and notice that the time has frozen to 3.33 am.

I let out an exhausted sigh.

I’d failed.

“My, my Angel, aren’t you quite the specimen.” A male, with an English accent, speaks. A voice so deep yet soft, I can almost feel it caressing my skin. Toying with me, pulling me closer, but pushing me away as it gets too close.

Slowly I turn to see where the voice has travelled from, desperate to find the source of the caressing voice. Above the entrance of the church stands a statue of Jesus, but he is hidden by a tall perfectly built man, with a tailored-to-fit black suit, and black tie to match. Goosebumps on my skin start from my toes and slowly reach their destination on my arms.

“Lucifer, it seems I was too late after all,” I speak as I slowly walk towards him. He drops to the ground, making no sound at all. Watching one another we slowly walk towards each other, stopping at a 2-meter distance.

“Please, no formalities, Luca is fine.”

His jet-black hair shines under the moonlight creeping in through the mosaic window. Undertones of golden glitter between the black where his hair had once been angel-like. Shining golden eyes inspect me up and down, taking his time to take me in. The stubble on his chin darkens where two dimples sit on either side of his lips. A small smirk appears across his face.

“Hm, I see. Not an Angel After all. You’re Valkyrie. How many of you are there left? I’m sure my army took plenty of you out a few millennia ago.” Lucifer taunts, his dimples darkening as he smirks.

“My sisters are none of your concern fallen. The ones you killed were killed with honour on the battlefield, where were all destined to die.” I snap back, anger making my skin flush, scaring away the goosebumps Lucifer had caused.

“Oh for christ’s sake, love, give me a break!” His voice booms through the church echoes dancing from the windows. “Free will, my love, you would be able to die wherever you please. It wouldn’t be a sin to die somewhere YOU wanted.” He spoke as he started to walk around me, leaning closer to my ear. “You could be with whoever you wanted.”

“Hmm, wouldn’t be you though demon.” I throw a condescending smile before rolling my eyes. My face flushes and my heart races in protest. This man had out-of-this-world looks.

“We’ll see, Arielle, when I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for me. But only, with your own free will.” He smirks, taking my hand and kissing it, his eyes never leaving mine. “Such beautiful, blue eyes. So un-Valkyrie-like.”

How the hell did he know my name? A flush runs through the centre of my being, but I quickly dismiss it, ignoring the feelings and keeping my cool. I had no name. My sisters and I were but one force.

“My name is Valkyrie.” I hiss, he hasn’t let my hand go yet. The warmth of his hand feels almost like fire. I stare at it, the unfamiliar warmth passing through our palms.

“Oh yes, I forget, you and your army of sisters are all one.” He says, looking over every feature on my face. “Shame it’s just the one that I’m wanting, Arielle.” He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear, running his hand down my cheek as he recedes.

“I’ll be seeing you very, very soon my love.” Kissing the back of my hand again, he finally drops it and walks out of the church, and all I can do is stand there, and watch his perfect behind leave. Finally, I try to move forward, to follow him. Why do I want to follow him? But I can’t move, not even a finger or an eyebrow to scowl. He’s frozen me so I can’t follow him. Anger bursts through me as I stand useless, muffled noises leaving my throat as I try and hurl verbal abuse at the sneaky bastard.

Watching as the demon exits into the world, a slight panic bubbles in me. What is he doing here, why now? God knows whatever damage he’s going to bring to humanity. The end of time? Hell on earth? Whatever he has planned, it can’t be good. I have a feeling that whatever he’s going to be up to, he’s going to be fucking with me along the way. Shaking my head, I try and shake away the slight excitement that fetches me. This is going to be fun.

A warmth takes over as the paralysis begins to leave my body, and I drop to the ground panting, I’d not even noticed I was holding my breath. The last 5 minutes were reeling through my mind. I side-eye the remaining demon, just in time to see him disintegrate to the ground in a puff of purple smoke.

I was a Valkyrie, I was a part of ‘Gods’ army, the most ruthless, brutal, notorious soldiers. In other words, I was a high-ranking soldier within the ranks of the heavens. Yet here I was, hand pick by the devil himself to fuck about with for fun and games. And the worst part, I enjoyed the feeling he instilled in me.

“Shit.” I hiss. “Micheal is going to kill me.” I run a hand through my hair, punching at the ground, denting the stone flooring. The last thing I needed was that twat gloating.

“Not quite kill Valkyrie,” a voice booms behind me, making my stomach drop. Good job I’m already kneeling, “but I am, definitely, going to punish you.”

I turn my head slowly, looking over my shoulder from my position on the ground. Micheal stood leaning against the altar, arms crossed, pissed off. His blonde hair is messy and covers his forehead. His blue eyes icy with pure rage at my failure, I couldn’t help but cower like a puppy in trouble. His white shirt is opened at the top, displaying his collarbone like an appetizer for what’s below. His white suit pants leave little to the imagination with their perfect fit.

He strides down the aisle, with very few steps and couches down in front of me. Taking a finger he lifts my chin up to look at him, my face flushes as soon as our eyes meet.

“Now, how shall we get that bad boy Lucifer off your mind, Angel?” Micheal whispers, licking his lips.

I regain my cool and slap his hand away, making him laugh.

“Fuck off Micheal, I hate it when you use that shit on me, stop.” I shiver, and a pang of queasiness runs through me. A musical laugh escapes his throat.

Michael had the power to make people cower from him, bowing to kiss his toes. He knew not to use it on me for too long. He’d tried once, and got his ass kicked.

“What? Aren’t I allowed a little fun? Luca was all over you, I got possessive. Sue me.” He shrugs, plopping to the ground beside me.

“Well don’t, I’m not yours to possess, neither am I his so back off.” I sit on my backside and cross my legs. Running a hand through my hair I sigh. “What are we gonna do now anyway? He’s back. Shouldn’t we go after him? You said the whole world depended on my getting this done?”

“Nah, he’ll pop up again somewhere soon, then we’ll be able to get him. The world does depend on it. Yes, we’ve had a setback, but we will take the lead soon. But for now, you need to come back. We need you back at base. One of your sisters has gone missing.”

A pain shot in my chest at hearing another one of my sisters had disappeared. This had happened so many times, and yet it hurt more and more every time.

"Shit. How many more Micheal? There’s only me and Luna left in the highest rank. We can’t just be recruiting more, you’ve seen them, they haven’t got the true potential when they’re forced to join.” I complain.

True Valkyries were born warriors, only destined to win wars and die on the battlefield. Luna and I were the only two remaining of the 12 true Valkyrie warriors. The rest, which consisted of the remaining 10, were chosen from the arena. They were good fighters, that wasn’t the issue, but they had the fear that Luna and I didn’t feel. We were incapable of fear, just the excitement of death. Fear meant you faltered, and you died. Sure we felt anxious from time to time, but fear? Absolutely not.

Death for a Valkyrie meant you’d be whisked away to Eden, unable to leave, trapped by the barrier. Living the rest of your days, in a garden, doing nothing much. I personally couldn’t think of anything worse, yet a part of me wanted peace. I’d been at this for millennia. I am never tired of the fight, of the war. No. But I’m tired of losing the people I care for.

I’d been taken to Eden once, and once only. Because one of the lesser Valkyries panicked and I got a trident through the brain. I’d woken up in Eden, under the forbidden tree. Naked and sneezing. Apparently, Valkyries could have allergies. I was about to storm the guard’s HQ there when the roots of the tree opened up into a firey pit. Curiosity got the better of me, I jumped in, and I landed back on earth, in the same spot id died.

I hadn’t told anybody. That kind of thing is unheard of among any holy being. Everybody else had died in that battle against the demons, so I just kept my mouth shut. Unlike me.

“Ari, I know, but what else can we do? We need you to go find her.” He pleaded, giving me puppy dog eyes.

Sighing, “Fine. But next time one goes missing, don’t be calling on me to do the dirty work. Where was she last seen?”

“Venice,” Micheal whispered.

"It’s always, fucking Venice,” I said through gritted teeth.

I hated Venice and he knew this. I had a history there, and not a good one. I couldn’t help but think that shit was about to hit the fan.