Just look at them. Humans now swarm the globe by the billions, their very existence polluting the Earth they inhabit, rotting it from the inside out. I remember when this planet was a thriving oasis, and the humans who existed among it respected it, nurtured it, and even revered it. Now look at them. They move like uncoordinated ants, crashing into one another while simultaneously trying to avoid each other. It would be comical if it weren’t so pathetic. And then there’s the stench.
Every last one of them carries the putrid stench of malice. It emanates from them, contaminating everything around them like a virus. Some wear their malice proudly, owning it and showcasing it like it were a decomposing crown to be mounted proudly upon their heads. Others hide theirs. They attempt to mask it with good deeds and kind words, but I still smell it. I can smell the insincerity a continent away. They can pretend to be mild-mannered, compassionate creatures, but it takes so little to bring forth the malice. How easily every last one of them would turn on each other, and for what? This is the world I have awoken to and it’s enough to make me realise I was better off in a cage.
Walking through what they now call city streets, the tiny people barely throw me a glance as they pass me by. As I continue to walk, attempting to familiarize myself with this new world I exist in, the odorous scent of malice emanates from nearby, calling to me like a vulture to a decaying corpse. I follow the hideous stench, the unmistakable tang growing in intensity and tasting bitter on my tongue.
With each step I take, the malice grows but with it comes the sounds of chanting. Angry, vindictive, hypocritical chants that feel as though they are drilling into my skull. It’s not long before I come upon a large crowd of humans, gathered and screaming obscenities while waving large signs with crude depictions of human foetuses and words scrawled across them that carry the intellect and grammar of an infant. How apt.
“You’re going to burn in hell you fucking baby killer!” A deranged man shouts at a clearly, terrified young woman, swaddled and protected by the arms of another woman.
“Jesus knows what you’re doing! You deserve to fry!” now screams a most unpleasant woman.
I watch the angry mob with growing curiosity. So much malice oozing off every single one of them. Their words scream hypocrisy that goes unheard by their own impaired ears. They seem to be protesting on behalf of an organism too small and undeveloped to be able to comprehend its own existence, let alone offer any value or worth to the world. They’re screaming how they fight for its life and rights while wishing death and eternal torture upon a fully developed being, whose life has already impacted and contributed to thousands if not millions of lives just by existing. There are several flaws in their logic.
For one, if such a human carried this organism and no longer wanted it, would casting them into a fiery pit of death not in turn destroy the organism they seek to protect? But even more important is the very crucial detail they are all overlooking in this moment.
“Can all of you freaks just fuck off! My sister is here for a cancer biopsy you brainless, sanctimonious fucktards!” screams the angered woman, keeping a protective hold on the young woman she calls her sister.
I shake my head in bemused disappointment as her words do nothing to quell the angry crowd. Their ears deafened by the screams of their own self-righteous and misguided indignation. So much malice is filling the air and yet…I detect the subtle notes within the stench that differentiate one person’s malice from another, like a bouquet of rotting flowers, each offering a wide range of scents to confound the senses.
While the crowd’s malice is dripping with hatred and disgust cloaked in perceived superiority, the malice oozing from the young woman stems from her anger at the mistreatment towards her sister. I’ve not come across this kind of malice before. I’m accustomed to sensing the malevolence that lurks within all beings, but this might be the only time I’ve encountered someone where that bitterness was born from a need to protect that which they covet at all costs.
I stare at the young woman with fascination. My experience with humans is limited and much like that of a newborn child. I had barely been able to open my eyes and take in the new world I had been born into – if one can even call it that – before I was cast down into the bowels of the Earth, sealed away and frozen in time for thousands of years. I hadn’t existed long enough to encounter this unique and powerful aroma, but it’s one I wish to learn more about. I wonder which malice is stronger; that which is born of hatred or that which is born of this other emotion I can’t quite figure out.
As the women finally make their way into the safety of the clinic, the burly man whose vile words could be heard above the others, places his sign down and steps away from the crowd, walking towards a nearby side street. I follow him, stepping into the side street just as he lights up a cigarette. How fitting. Filling his lungs with poison and further polluting the air he breathes. It seems his soul isn’t the only thing rotten about him.
He takes a drag of his cigarette, glancing over at me when he senses my presence. There’s a moment of apprehension in his eyes when he takes in my appearance, but his pernicious nature makes fear an afterthought.
“Can I fucking help you with something?” he asks, blowing a stream of smoke in my direction.
I say nothing. I merely stand there, observing this malodorous human being with burning curiosity, confounded by the fact such a thing exists. Here stands a man whose life holds little to no value, his time occupied with terrorising innocent people through a fabricated veil of nobility. But I can see into his mind as clear as daylight. There’s nothing noble or humane about him. He doesn’t preach righteousness because he is righteous, he preaches it because he thrives on the pain it causes others. He uses moral outrage as a shield to inflict the most damage on innocent people just fighting to stay alive. The Earth is swarming with insects such as this and yet, this is the world I should be grateful to be a part of. Would the Gods have me kiss their feet and extend my thanks for forcing me to share an existence with cockroaches such as these? The very notion repeats itself in my mind ad nauseam.
“You got a fucking problem mate?” the loathsome creature snaps, the malicious odour around him intensifying as his mind runs through all the contemptible yet hilarious ways he would love to put me in my place. It amuses me how the most sadistic of humans are also the most stupid. Their inability to feel humility or empathy gives them a warped sense of self; a grandiose reflection that impedes them from seeing the dangers they willingly put themselves in. Dangers I feel no compulsion to warn them about.
The human before me flicks his cigarette onto the ground as he storms over while attempting to bring himself to his full height as if his 5’9” frame could even compare to my 7’9” stature.
“Are you mute you fucking freak?” he spits, throwing his hands out to shove me.
I don’t remotely feel the moment his hands connect with my chest. The only thing making it clear this fragile being attempted to harm me, are the sounds of his pained screams and contorted look on his face as he drops to the stone ground, unable to clutch his own hands as they remain flopped back at awkward angles, the pure white of his bones now visible and experiencing life outside of their cocoon of human flesh.
I look down at him with disinterest and not an ounce of sympathy, “You really shouldn’t have done that,” I utter stoically.
I watch on as his howls of pain soon morph into screams of horror as a dark shadow begins to engulf his hands, quickly moving down his arms until his entire body is consumed in darkness. His cries become muffled before they’re silenced by the darkness taking him over. In an instant the man who once was, is no more, now replaced by a humanoid shadow. Its eyes open to reveal bright purple voids staring up at me as its wispy figure begins to absorb the light around itself, slowly bathing the street in darkness. It observes me as if waiting for a command, even though it has no consciousness. All I see now is a malicious human now consumed by their own hatred for all eternity. Perhaps some part of me should care, but I don’t. Instead, I turn my back and walk away.
Sickened by the thought of infecting my senses by suffering through more human interactions, I transport myself back to my home – if one could call it that. I’ve never had a home, but I find the concept strange yet comforting. A dwelling of my own creation that separates me from all the earthly things I despise, while providing me with a sanctuary to do as I will, even rest should I find need of it.I chose to take up residence in a place called Hoia-Baciu, a forest in a land called Romania. Gullible and paranoid humans seem to believe this dark forest is haunted, and I suppose now it is. When I erected this home for myself I realised this was the first thing I had ever created of my own volition. Yes, I created the eyti but there’s not a single eyti in existence that I ever made intentionally. This place, however, was. I saw it in my mind then made it happen and have come to treasure this place in the short time I’ve resided here. I even feel quite protective of it, another emotion I
It’s been centuries since I got this dressed up, yet here I am dressing for the same reason I did then.Today is the autumnal equinox, one of the two times of the year when the sun is exactly above the equator making day and night equal in length. The other time this occurs is called the vernal equinox. To celebrate, supernaturals gather among their kind in hopes of finding their soulmate. However, for thousands of years during the autumnal equinox, the delegation has hosted the Autumnal Ball, allowing supernaturals from all corners of the globe to come together at the Kartheca to try to find their animai among other species. The last time I attended was in the 1500s and that was only for the novelty of it. This time is different.While everyone will be attending hoping to find their animais, I’ve already found mine; he just doesn’t want anything to do with me. This would have been another year I avoided this event but for some unknown reason, me and my brother were personally request
We exit the house and make our way onto the grass, my heels sinking into the dirt with each step I take. I focus on feeling the power within me take hold, and as a burst of electricity shoots through my body my human form is quickly replaced with my raitruum form along with my brother. I stretch out my thirty-foot-long wings, feeling the breeze between my feathers as I bring myself to my full fifteen-foot height. I feel my power and strength coursing through me like a livewire. In this form, everything is heightened. I hear beyond what I could in human form, smell scents I was completely unaware of and see up to five miles away.I look over at my brother as he flaps his wings, the bright gold of his feathers that fade into electric blue glowing majestically like they were being lit from within. In bird form, we are identical in every way but scent, so only certain beings can tell us apart. But since we tend to handle our duties solo to keep us spread out, that issue doesn’t come up muc
Okay, I’m ready for bed.Besides living with my brother, I’ve been a very solitary being for thousands of years. The most social interactions I experience are when I interact with the Delegation or save someone’s life. Apart from that, I’m happy to do my own thing, so all these back-to-back discussions with so many people wanting to get to know me are a bit overwhelming. The selfies, on the other hand, were going a bit far for some of them, but I suppose they wanted visual proof they met a raitruum.The moment I’m given a chance to breathe, I race over to the buffet, pull up the bust of my dress once again and help myself to some eclairs. I’m just digging into my second when I feel a wave of serenity wash over me as arms wrap around me from behind. I glance down and see gold flecks of glitter buried against ivory skin. I look behind me to see a bright smile and golden eyes twinkling up at me.“Kamelya, you startled me,” I chuckle, putting my éclair down and turning to hug her.“Those
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but you’re Orenda, aren’t you?” asks the blonde woman, her turquoise eyes shining with hope.“That would be me, I’m sorry, do we know each other?” I ask curiously, trying to place her face.She’s toned and beautiful in a one-sleeved, glittering, turquoise gown with a sweetheart neckline and a slit up to her hip with a bustle of turquoise silk flowing from her hip accentuating her curves. The shoes make quite the statement being eight-inch holographic platforms with diamond straps and a diamond starflower as the buckle. She looks like royalty but based on the familiar energy, I’m going to guess an Alpha, which makes the handsome gentleman with his arm around her, her Luna. His jet black hair is tied back in a half-up pony and is in a matching three-piece turquoise suit with a white button-down and white tie, with turquoise suede loafers with gold tipped toes.I’ve never had the privilege of meeting a male Luna before. I’ve met a few female Alphas in my time,
Not a moment later, I feel my entire body become rigid. An intense, overwhelming wave of energy comes over me almost knocking me off my feet, and it takes all of me to remain standing. I can feel it approaching like a cold, dense fog skimming across the water and cloaking the land with a cloud of unease. I’d know that feeling anywhere. A feeling I should loathe and shiver at, but I don’t. It makes my body feel alive and my essram rejoice in ways I can’t begin to explain. It feels like a black hole sucking me into its depths, and never have I wanted something so much in my whole life. As disturbing as that thought should be, it brings me nothing but comfort.I look to the end of the ballroom, my heart skipping several beats as that energy intensifies. A moment later, the grand double doors are pushed open, and stepping over the threshold without a single care is none other than Azadou himself.The God of Malice.The Demon God.My animai.His bright purple eyes glance around the room wit
With a deep and unyielding sense of solicitude coursing through me, I race over to the mirror, tearing the vestiges of human modesty from my torso and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My brows furrow, the complete maelstrom of my thoughts clear on my face as with a faltering hand I touch my chest – searching – but there’s nothing.How did she do it?Outside of the Gods, no being has ever willingly touched me. No being ever dared. Is she that vacuous or just ruled by a sense of self-abandonment, lacking in any notions of self-preservation? More importantly…nothing came of her touch. She showed no fear or hesitation as she placed her hand upon my chest. I saw no hatred or disgust in those prism eyes. She looked upon me, pleading, beseeching; her voice soft, confident and firm, yet the very sound of it seemed to cast a spell of calmness upon my being.For the first time since I was torn into this world, I felt frozen. I watched and waited for the malice to take her over…but it never
Ever since the Autumnal Ball I find myself flying on frequent patrols just to distract myself from reliving the events of that evening over and over again in my mind. I feel like I’m experiencing Groundhog Day. I wake up and set off on patrol only to come home and find my mind plagued by the memory of what it felt like to be in the presence of my animai. To be close enough to touch him and yet still unable to feel that touch. To experience the penetrating stare of his piercing, purple eyes and breathe in his intoxicating scent only for him to just disappear from my life without a word once again. He has neither rejected me nor left me with any inkling that I will ever see him again. This is my hell. Condemned there by my own soulmate.Ayawamat does his best to lift my spirits, but what can he do? How do you mend a broken heart that was broken by being denied true love? Even to me, it sounds unhinged. Every day I try over and over to call upon Merlos for answers, yet day after day she
For the first time in a week, I laugh. I let out a bitter – though still amused – laugh as she speaks about avoiding rejecting my brother. I don’t know where this burst of energy is coming from, but I’m welcoming it gladly.Invidia pushes off the wall, glaring down at me in annoyance, “What the hell is so funny?”I look up at her, a bitter, mocking smile tugging at my lips. “You even thinking you have a say in the rejection of my brother is laughable.”She fists her hands at her sides as they are ignited by glowing indigo energy. “You think I couldn’t reject him if I want to?” she bites back acerbically.My mocking smile only continues to grow, and I find myself eager to bask in the aftermath of shattering any little fantasies she may have had of being bonded with Ayawamat.“You seem under the very erroneous belief that my brother would ever give you the time of day,” I gladly taunt, leaning back against the stone wall, the uneven edges suddenly feeling unusually soothing as I watch In
I’m pulled from my dark reverie as a groan of pain passes my lips when I feel an ache in my cheeks as my head is yanked downward. I lock with obsidian oculi with a golden core as Invidia’s fingers dig overly aggressively into my cheeks, her face a strange mix of relieved and haunted as she squats before me.“I understand,” she murmurs unusually sympathetically. “I know what rejection can do to people. Despite what she liked to claim, I know my mother’s strength was never the same after she killed her animai. She killed the man she was bonded to without thinking once about the ramifications. She was so fucking cocky,” she scoffs in irritation, “And so obsessed with her plans for power and domination that she actually believed she was above the consequences that come with rejecting the magic of a God,” she shakes her head in ridicule. “But you see, I’ve learned so much from every mistake she ever made. I won’t let anything derail my objectives, which is why I had to make slight amendmen
The sound of movement around me stirs me awake. My eyes slowly flutter open, my mind groggy and my body aching beyond belief as the burning pain in my ankle brings the reality of my predicament crashing down around me. I slowly look up to see Invidia standing over me, a satisfied look on her face.“I’m pleased to see you ate all of your food. The last thing I want is to have to force-feed you,” she lilts with faux concern.I say nothing. I just stare at her, my face no doubt reflecting my exhaustion but in truth all I feel towards her in this moment is apathy. I had expended so much energy communicating with her before because it was necessary; she had answers I needed. It was an unpleasant means to an end, but now? Now I need to save every last morsel of energy I can, if I am to get myself out of here.Invidia’s eyes narrow infinitesimally. “What? No begging? No pleading for me to set you free and do the right thing?” she queries, her tone filled with mockery.I am an immortal, mille
Invidia smirks confidently. “You understand what I’m saying now, don’t you?”“That’s why you chose me,” I whisper gravely. “My human blood is a fabrication, which means I contain far more celestial blood than other supernatural beings.”“Now you’re catching on,” she grins.Invidia rises from her chair, pulls a small vile out of her back pocket and holds it up to the candlelight. Inside the vile is a silver liquid, a liquid I presume to be God’s blood, but it looks different…it’s not the vibrant silver I’ve seen the few times I’ve witnessed a God bleed. It’s darker, almost a gunmetal colour. It’s as if the mingling with human DNA, the process of abstracting it or maybe the thousands of years of being separated from the source has diluted its potency or warped it in some way.“It took me a year to syphon this much God’s blood. It is a long, tedious process made worse by the fact that I’m only able to syphon insignificant amounts from my subjects. But I’m patient, and with enough time an
Invidia regains my attention by clapping her hands together. I open my eyes to see her face cast upwards and a bright smile on her face. “I can’t believe I’m the first person in history to catch a raitruum!”I feel disgust rippling over my body like centipedes crawling under my skin. I would give anything to strike her down and claw her eyes out with my talons, but I’m too weak. She’s made that painfully clear. I accept that I won’t get my climactic moment where I rise like a phoenix from the ashes and make her regret having ever met me, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t need my ego inflated, I need a rescue, and I know just the person to call.I call through our link, but quickly all I sense is static on the other end. I call out again, trying to summon what I can to push through, but no matter how much I call he doesn’t hear me.On the extremely rare occasion my brother has a block up, it feels more like hitting a wall with a giant ‘do not disturb’ sign on it, but this is different.
Burning, scolding pain shooting through my ankle has my senses returning with a vengeance as a scream of agony tears its way through my throat. I gasp for air, the unexpected physical pain compounding with my mental and spiritual fatigue to create a brand new kind of torture.I try to move my arms, but something around my wrists weighs them down. As I pant, I force myself to focus past the blur of my vision, and slowly, Invidia’s familiar frame comes into view. She’s squatting in front of me, her bone-white hair tied up in a short pony, the strands too short to be contained by the hair elastic framing her face. The only thing illuminating my stoney prison are two sconces holding a single flickering candle on opposite walls. The light around me is dim at best, making Invidia’s toasted brown skin appear darker in complexion, while giving her hair a ghostly veneer.Willing myself to focus a bit more, I see her gazing at something in her hand, her expression seeming impressed. I glance at
As if the growing void sucking the life from my fatigued body wasn’t bad enough, I get to add crippling guilt to my list of woes. Every day Ayawamat is at my side, tending to me and trying to uplift me. Instead of living, he’s wasting his time watching me waste away. Every second that passes, I try to fight off the emptiness. I try to cling to the broken shards of my shattered essram hoping I’m strong enough to survive this. If not for me, then for my brother. If I die…he’d be all alone. That thought pains me almost as much as the aftermath of rejection.There are moments where I feel myself being sucked into oblivion, the frigid nothingness taking hold and refusing to let go, and just I find myself surrendering to it, I feel this charge from deep within. I can’t explain it, but it's like an electric paddle to the soul. It doesn’t last, but when it strikes; for the briefest moment I feel the warrior in me resurge, her voice strong and commanding, telling me not to give up and that I c
I’ve lived fifty per cent of my entire existence in the body of a human, with all of the weaknesses that come with it, but this is the first time I’ve ever felt helpless.It’s been almost a week and there has barely been any improvement in Orenda’s condition. I’d say she’s clinging to life, but that would imply she’s trying and I’m not so sure that she is. Every day I tend to her. I brush her hair, keep her company, and I try to keep her fed. Soups and broths are the only thing she can get down, but at least it’s something. She speaks the occasional word every now and then, but they take so much out of her that I encourage her not to speak and keep her strength. She’s able to communicate much better telepathically, so she mostly responds that way. While I miss hearing the sound of her voice, I’ll take any form of communication she can manage; it’s a sign she’s still with me and hasn’t given up yet.I put the empty bowl of broth down on her nightstand and gingerly dab some of the beefy
A thunderous, harrowing roar bursts from my lungs as I throw my right hand out like the strike of a hammer, an intense bolt of purple lightning discharging from my hand and striking through the interior of my home, obliterating everything in its path. I stare at the resulting destruction, my chest heaving and sweat forming on my skin as I remain unburdened from the cataclysmic agony tearing its way through me. I pant, my lungs feeling constricted as if air cannot reach them as a current of purple electricity moves across my flesh. With a strained roar, I throw out my left hand, hurling another bolt of purple lightning through my interior, watching it obliterate everything it touches, but still, I feel no better.Feeling drained, I collapse against the banister, the flimsy material breaking under my weight and making me fall to the floor. I move onto all fours, my fingers tearing through the floorboards like butter as the wood triturates in my palms as I clench my fists. Every cell in