I remember what it was like to live in a cage. I remember how it felt to be sold, used, beaten, and persecuted. I remember the last vestiges of my humanity fled from me and created the monster that they so feared. The Angels? God? They had abandoned me. An empty cry to a mother never to be answered. Humanity likes to cage that which it fears. To tame forces of nature, to control that which is beyond their understanding.
I remember the day they killed me. I remember the day they made me…
Fire rained from the heavens. The once black sky glowed a crisp, burnt orange. Smog partially barred the rays of the incandescent moon. Ash and embers slowly fluttered to the Earth. Embers crackled and great walls of flame engulfed wooden homes. Orbs of flame descended quickly, crushing their targets and exploding the surrounding area in an inferno. Everything burned. Trees stripped of their bark gave way and tumbled into a massive schism that opened the Earth, its vast depths a terrible void.
I tuned toward the schism, the claws of my hands gripping my onyx hair over my ears, tears freely streamed down my face. My breath came in short, shallow gasps. Blood trailed down my small arms and into the dirt. A firm grasp at my shoulder shoved me to my knees in the dirt. My white diaphanous dress was in tatters and covered in filth and blood. I pulled at my hair, whimpering at the cacophonous symphony of chanting from behind me. The pressure in my head threatened to burst, I crawled forward on hands and knees, gripping the edge to the schism, and stared below.
The hand of the man behind me gripped the top of a soft, feathered black wing that emerged from my spine. He trailed a finger along the firm bone lining the top, and I shuddered. Suddenly his grip turned vice-like and he yanked. A loud crack echoed through the night. My scream echoed across the barren landscape.
“Mommy!” But no one came.
Hurricane winds swept up from the cavernous opening, whipping my hair about my face. The hand behind me released me as my shrill scream continued. The ground surrounding me began to glow and cinder, it radiated from me like lava traversing harsh terrain. Screams echoed from the village, the chanting grew frantic and out of pace. A low growl emerged from my throat; fangs pierced through my lips. I felt a bone crack back into place, and slowly I hovered off the ground.
I turned to the group of men and women behind me, those from the village who were not scrambling to put out the fires, to run, held their books up to me. They chanted the painful words that shredded my ears. I lifted a bloody arm and directed the flames to take them. I smiled when I heard their blood curdling and their shrieks of agony.
In the distance, a man stepped out of the shadows. His dark silhouette was sturdy and confident as he sauntered forward through the blood and gore. His crimson eyes crinkled at the corner, and his strong jaw was dusted with a shadow. Stygian black tresses curled from his head. He strode forward with purpose, not even flinching as he stepped directly on the cindered, glowing ground. There was no sign of pain or burning. He walked across the sea of fire, and stopped inches from me, with my small frame we were eye to eye as I hovered.
“You have to let go; it is not time yet.” He said softly.
He reached forward to tuck a flyaway behind my ear. I growled and launched away from him, baring my teeth I snarled. His face fell, and for a moment he looked almost sad.
“I won’t hurt you.” He whispered and reached forward. Gripping my shoulder, he stared into my eyes, I felt myself losing consciousness, but as I fell, I heard him continue.
“God help the world…”