A Scream That Shook the Air

Elyra's sharp eyes saw no mysteries in the night. She did not try to control her demon blood for the time being. The air filtered through her teeth and landed lightly on her sensitive tongue as she took a deep breath. She extracted the odors of the people she hunted and those who followed her from it. She exhaled, a cloud of heated mist spreading into the chilly night air, her breath tainted with a fetid flavor.

She moved with the grace of a predator, her muscular limbs swinging purposefully, her huge claws digging into the ground with each measured step. As though looking for some secret danger in the pure, unspoiled soil, she ripped at the ground, uncovering sharp roots and pebbles. An intense craving for the warm, pulsating blood of a human, whose soul was corrupted by its own insatiable cravings, burned in her heart rather than in her stomach.

Her dagger-like talons impaled a sleeping bird without hesitation as her arm sprang out, a flurry of speed slashing through the deep Whispering Woods. She didn't make any noise to break the silence or break her stride. She shattered the eggs in the nest below and ate the little thing in two quick, vicious bites without the slightest regret or sympathy.

Finally, with hardly a sound, she stopped her unrelenting flight. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood, and her chest heaved with deep, ragged gasps. She was reminded that this was not the time for such flaws as fragments of her human consciousness battled to come to the surface. Her red eyes lifted to the full moon rising in the sky as she brushed them off with a twitch of her sinewy form. A stab of pain awoke in her chest—a brief flashback to something important, maybe a glimpse of her former existence—but it gave her no clarity, only a greater sense of anxiety.

Her angular jaws opened, and she let out a scream that reverberated with such intensity that the air itself trembled. All the creatures in The Whispering Woods were awakened by the sharp noise; the wind rippled outward, carrying the fear of the escaping beasts, and clouds of birds burst into the air like a black plume of smoke.

In the darkness, her body shook with nauseating anticipation as she flashed her shining, razor-sharp teeth. Her scream was an expression of her frustration and her unmet longing. Until she had the moon itself in her strong grasp, she would not be satisfied. Anger rising, she grasped for the heavens with a sinewy limb, maddening by the impossible.

The moon, however, was still out of reach. A flash of human awareness returned as her scream went to a hiss, telling her that the moon was not hers to claim. She felt nauseated by the realization, and her anger rose again. She looked away from the bright sphere, as if its light were taunting her. She felt human enough at that moment to want to give up completely, to surrender.

Then she looked up and seen a person coming toward her, glowing unearthly. Her body went into a convulsive shudder as a shock of recognition ran through her veins. Her demon blood seemed to know him intuitively, rising with a primal reaction, even though her mind had never experienced such a presence.

The feeling was like fire coursing through her—rage, unadulterated, uncontrolled hatred. Under her claws, she longed for his blood to gush. She had never in her brief violent life yearned for anything so much as she now yearned to hear him scream—a scream that would be greater than any she had ever heard or spoken. She pounced at the angelic figure like a crazed thing.

She detested him! She hated him! Now she wanted to murder him!

His movement caused a brief glimmer of light to capture on a twisted leaf as he gracefully avoided her assault. She followed him once more, instinctively, without thinking or rationalizing, her talons and fangs hungry for his flesh. She didn't waste any more energy on battle cries; she was so focused on her quest that she hardly gave breathing a second thought. In her imagination, he was the ephemeral light she wished to put out, and she was the shadow.

It was a dance that seemed to go on forever, ebb and flow, attack and dodge. However, he fought with calm calculation, whereas her own rage, which was wild and untamed, swiftly depleted her power.

She took the first blow in the chest, a powerful blow that threw her back through a grove of young trees. She rolled with it, a harsh awakening as she tasted her own blood in her tongue. Her human mind recoiled at the unholy taste of her demon blood, which rushed to the front of her awareness. She had hardly had such feelings before, but now she felt terribly human and vulnerable in spite of her demon shape. Not only did the agony feel strange, but she also realized that she didn't belong there.

Nevertheless, she was aware that her death was imminent. She gazed at the angel, now seeing him with human eyes instead of demon ones. She recoiled as her blood continued to burn with a burning fire, but something new stabbed her chest, a keen, throbbing agony that went deeper than any physical damage.

From him came waves of brightness, warmth, and beauty that were seductive but perilous. She lurched back, gasping on the intense sensation as her breath caught in her throat. There was a poisonous intensity to his ferocious blue eyes. He snarled, "Demon filth!" as if she were a ruin to the precious June rain, his words brimming with disgust. "I'll either destroy you or chain you!"

Without giving her any further notice, he lunged at her. She tried desperately to get away this time, almost tripping over her clawed feet. No, no! The tension between her human mentality and her demon blood was like burning pain in the presence of this divinely pure creature. She whimpered as his strong strikes caused her to stumble. Still attempting to escape, she battled her way to her feet after they hit her knees and then her back.

"Not so brave, beast, when your prey isn't human?" As threatening as any creature of the dark, his voice was a snarl. She felt utterly hopeless and yearned for comprehension from the being that appeared to be able to harbor such intense animosity. Her heart was hurting for herself, a creature already cursed, and she made a sound that was almost a sob. However, she gave in as she fell—not to the angel, but to the inner devil. It was the only way she could live.

She got up with a hiss of defiance and a growl. She went back to the angel who had pursued her, the one who had shown no mercy despite the fact that she had given him no cause for animosity. She was confronted by an entity that demanded her death and whose essence was far deeper than a human soul. A frown pulled back her lips. "Angeeeel." She was struck again by the strength of her little used voice, which carried the bone-snapping resonance of her type. "Betrayerrrr."

She was unable to articulate how she knew, but she knew deep down that he was a traitor. The slightest flutter of astonishment appeared on the angel's face, indicating that he sensed the truth in her statement, even though he did not express agreement. Had he considered her a senseless beast? Scum from God!

She swung over the gap between them with a snap of her tail. It was a ploy, though, for she was already poised to strike him as he countered. She expressed her anger with her talons rather than the angel's fists. They penetrated deeply into his wing's flesh, leaving rivulets of blood that stained the immaculate white feathers.

Innocently, the blood-stained feathers floated to the ground, spinning in the dying breeze. Elyra was about to launch another attack, but the angel, not to be deceived again, returned the blows. One of his blows fell just below her ribcage. Despite lacking claws, his fingers ripped into her skin, causing her blood to pour out.

Elyra's thoughts changed from fighting to running, and she tore herself away, leaving flesh behind. Every part of her body was screaming in agony as the strike sent waves of pain through her. As long as she was close to him, she knew the pain would not stop. Screw him! She stumbled again and jumped up toward the sky, racing past a faint, dark shadow that appeared behind her from The Whispering Woods. If angels had such a thing, she didn't pause to look at it; instead, she let it be up to the angel's mercy.

She fled in desperation, trying to get as far away from the awful creature that was after her as she could.

The angel saw another figure—a male demon, apparently—and froze, his determination to follow Elyra into the skies faltering. He was sure that this new beast was his real objective, so he swiftly recovered his calm and moved forward to attack after his heart had faltered.

He stumbled once again just before he delivered the first punch. The thing in front of him did not appear to be backing down, though he was unable to explain why. Instead, it made a terrifying scream to indicate that it was going to kill, and it held its ground. After all, was this thing not a demon?