The Angel of Death

She let out a shaky breath as she stared out the window, facing the empty path leading up to her crumbling shack. The forest pines cast crooked shadows, like claws closing in. The wind howled like wolves, hungry and cold-blooded. Distant stars twinkled weakly, as though they also dreaded the minutes to come. Yet the moon was full and bright, a glutton for attention. Unlike the others, it seemed ready for the show about to start, rising in the sky for a better look. 

Any moment now, the Angel of Death was to arrive just as it had promised. 

A grunt escaped her mother’s lips, a pale hand clutching tightly to Nes’ fingers. A thick layer of sweat coated the brow of her weathered face. Breaths came out in shallow pants as if the air were on fire. 

“It’s okay, Ma. You’re okay.” Nes bit back a sob, watching her mother’s frail body shiver against the cold. “He won’t take you. He won’t.” An empty promise. Death took what he desired. An unstoppable force. Yet, she would try. She would beg with all she possessed. 

“Don’t be foolish, girl.” Her mother wheezed. It was all the old woman could manage to let out. Her eyelids fluttered lazily as though they were too heavy to keep open. 

The Crow had appeared at their doorstep three days prior, eyes milky white. The signal that Death was nearing. Not everyone was fortunate enough to get the three day warning, yet the Angel had sent his bird just as he had done for Nes’ father all those years ago.

The young woman glanced out the window once more, her heart a loud drum beating incessantly. There he was, his tall shadow at the foot of the trail. Even from afar, she could feel the power rippling off of him like a dark caress. Shivers coursed down her spine. He had arrived. 

In a panic, she darted for the knife on the counter and secured it to the straps against her thigh. As carefully as she could, she ensured the stained fabric of her dress covered the bulk of the weapon. She had been too young to fight back when he’d taken her father’s soul, but not this time.

The wind howled viciously, pushing against the frail planks of wood that made up the foundation of her home. A thundering knock reverberated against the door, threatening to send it flying. For a split second, she considered not opening it at all as if there was a chance he’d simply leave. But she knew he’d barge in regardless – and they needed a door. 

With shaking hands, she undid the locks and slowly pulled back the handle. The hooded figure was just as she remembered. Tall and large, a long silver sword in hand.  But what caught her eye were the monstrous wings spread wide, nearly the length of her shack. He lazily tucked them behind his back as he strapped his sword to his waist. The sight was enough to knock the wind from her lungs. 

“May I come in?” He purred, his voice gruff. A sound that could make any lady swoon. She didn’t register her movements as she stepped back, allowing him access. The knife felt cold against her thigh.

He crouched beneath the doorway, the tips of his feathered wings gliding against the floor. He kept his hood in place, his face an endless void of darkness. Yet she knew he was staring at the dying woman on the bed. 

“I’m sorry to be back so soon.” She couldn’t tell if he was genuine.

“She still has time.” Nes urged, glancing at the moon that hadn’t quite reached the center of the sky. “It hasn’t been three days yet.”

“It will be in a few minutes. I recommend saying your goodbyes now.”

She glared at his looming figure. “Do you need to watch?” 

The sound of her mother’s cough grabbed her attention before he could answer. Nes hurried to her side, grasping her hands. Tears trickled down her cheeks, her vision blurry through her wet lashes. “I love you, Ma. I won’t disappoint you.” She felt the Angel’s presence close behind her. If she leaned back ever so slightly, she’d be flushed against him. 

Now was the time to strike. With one last look to her mother, she grasped the knife and spun as fast as she could, sinking the blade into the Angel’s heart. The sound of flesh tearing open echoed in her ears. Eyes wide, she glanced up at his face. So close, they shared the same breath. 

Gone was the darkness that sheltered his features. What she now saw were piercing gray eyes with flecks of starlight staring back at her. Her eyes roamed across his sharp cheekbones, the fullness of his lips, the dark colour of his skin. Strands of loose hair fell across his forehead in soft curls. He was more than beautiful, he was ethereal. 

The moment of surprise was short lived. Before she knew it, he had her pinned against the wall, holding her wrists above her head with one hand. His touch was warm, almost mortal. Nothing like she’d expected. 

He tsked as he slowly pulled the knife protruding from his heart with his free hand. Sheer horror gurgled in her throat at the sight of obsidian blood dripping onto the floor. The metal glinted against the moonlight, mocking her failed attempt. “You didn’t truly think that would work?” He said with a smug look. 

“It was worth a shot.” 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever come across a mortal who thought they stood the slightest chance,” he chuckled. “Most aren’t foolish enough.”

She glared daggers his way. “Haven’t you taken enough from me? Can’t you pick on others for once.”

“I pick on souls randomly.” She couldn’t tell if she imagined the regretful look in those mesmerizing eyes. “I do not choose which ones I collect, that is up to Fate to decide.” 

“Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.” She snapped, squirming in his hold.

“Sometimes I do.” His gaze slowly dropped to her lips. “Time has done you wonders, Nesara.”

She refused to acknowledge the flutters deep within her stomach. “Let go of me.”

“I should take your soul for what you attempted,” he growled, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Give your mother a few more years.”

“Do it. Take me instead.” 

He snickered. “Fate has too much planned for you, she would be furious to know I’ve changed the course of the future.” A lazy grin appeared as his gaze met hers once more. “And it would be a sin to take such beauty from this world.” 

“You’re a prick, you know that?”

“I’ve been told many times. That, and I’m incredibly handsome.”

Before she could retort, her mother cried out in pain. The begging came easily. “Please don’t take her from me, I can’t do this on my own. Please.” 

He paused for a second, mulling over her words. Finally, he said, “I can leave your mother’s soul for a while longer, yet I cannot heal her. Every waking moment of hers will be agony.” His deep voice went gentle, void of the teasing. “All mortals must meet their end.” 

He was right, her mother deserved to be released from her torment. To keep her any longer would be pure selfishness. Nes stayed quiet, the weight of her sorrows too heavy to bear. 

The Angel leaned in, pressing his soft lips against her cheek, catching a single tear. The kiss of death, warm and seductive. “I vow to you, Nesara, to take good care of her until your time comes.” Letting her go gently, he strode to the bed and crouched beside her mother. The old woman’s breaths came out wrong, it didn’t take a doctor to know she was on borrowed time. 

He laid a hand on her brow and smoothed back a few strands of grey hair. “Come, Ara.” Her mother let out a final breath before her chest ceased to rise. Her limbs went limp, a peaceful exit from this world. 

Silent sobs escaped from Nes’ lips as she watched the Angel make his way to the open door. Before he crossed the doorway, he turned back to face her. She could still see his gray eyes through the darkness now closing in on his features, his mask sliding back into place. 

“I won’t be back to visit you for many decades, Nesara. And when I do, I will show you all the wonders that exist beyond this cruel world. A place where no one can ever take from you. Not even I.”

And then he vanished, leaving her alone with her mother’s corpse.