111Hello! This is In-Hye, an insane and bloody princess who got another crazy, complicated idea for a story…I hope I finish this one. Yes and I desperately want reviews! I'm not sure how many people will read this…o well. Who cares? I do!
Chapter One
There are three main races on Earth, not counting half-breeds and crossovers. The first race is that of angels, who live up in the depths of the skies and drink of good cheer and have sparkly wings and perform good deeds.
The second people are that of humans, who inhabit the ground between the two Worlds. The humans are neither unmistakably pleasant nor unscrupulous, though there are some humans dedicated exclusively to being good or being bad. Some humans have an idea that when you die, you go to either Heaven or Hell, and being good or bad will make an impact on the Almighty. This is not true at all. As this story will tell you, the humans are wrong. All human religions are somewhat correct, but not one is wholly true. When people die, they go to another world. They do not become angels. Angels are angels. Angels are not humans that have been good all their lives. Angels do not like that the humans think that they will become angels later.
The third race is the contemptible ethnic group of Demons. The unspeakable fiends have their homes down in the earth, deeply hidden from human miners. They stay there until they have a sudden urge to come out and run invisibly among the humans and cause humans to be bad.
And half-breeds…how are half-breeds born, you ask? They are born when either a demon and a human have an offspring or an angel and a human have an offspring. It is forbidden by angel scripture that one should marry a demon, and angels, as you should have guessed, are strict about all their rules.
Demons are intractable, overconfident creatures. If a human rejects a demon, the human will pay.
Min-Jung Soo (pronounced just the way it sounds) watched with roaming eyes as her English teacher, Mrs. Shepherd, rambled on and on about the importance of choosing the right pronoun when speaking.
'Whatever,' Min-Jung thought as she scribbled away on her binder paper with a black gel pen. 'Like your friends are going to care.' Her best friend, Keona Moy, handed her a note. She opened it up and read.
Did you notice the new guy in the corner? –Keo
The Korean teenager looked back at her best friend and shook her head. With a sly smile, the other girl pointed nonchalantly at the right back corner. The black-haired girl thanked her friend with a smile and looked at the corner.
The new boy had hair as bright as gold—real gold. His eyes were sparkling sky blue, and he was just tall enough—not too tall, not too shirt—, and his hairstyle fit perfectly. How could somebody be that perfect?
She smiled him a hospitable beam. He grinned back. She felt hot all over. Oh great…holy…if only this was any other class other than English. If it wasn't English, they would get up in a few minutes to go somewhere, maybe to watch a video on Chinese history or something like Bill Nye the Science Guy, and she would have the opportunity to talk to him.
Mrs. Shepherd tapped her carroty pencil on Min-Jung's school desk. "Min-Jung, what pronoun would correspond here? Here is the sentence: 'the person with the most attention-grabbing person may be—' is the accurate pronoun I or me?" asked the English teacher, her eyes wide.
"I?" she guessed. Mrs. Shepherd pursed her red lips and went on with the lesson, looking rather annoyed that the girl had guessed right.
He was glad that she had noticed him. Ever since he had seen that girl, he had known the demons would be after her. Her aura was perfectly pure, it was pure white without black tints, and the demons would be after her.
Once a white-aura human had been in contact with an angel, they would be forever safe from the demon attacks. He frowned. If only she was a little older. That was the problem with angel scripture…
The young woman was only in eighth grade. He couldn't…damn…oops, sorry. Angels can't use bad language. He could not stand that imperative. Every other nation in the worlds was allowed to blaspheme except guardian angels, seraphs, archangels, and cherubs—every sort of angel that ever existed. There were all sorts of subgroups within the three main racial groups. As for demons, there were imps and sprites, too. And the fairies…they weren't counted as a race. They were angels, but…it was all complicated. And humans—well, they had it weird too. But every single one of those races besides angels was allowed to swear. And angels are supposed to have things good, too. At least…angels were supposed to have things better than everybody else.
The deal with the rule about an angle being in contact with a white-aura human—it wasn't just any contact. If it were any contact, every human would be safe from demon attacks. That would be just plain boring…to protect a human forever; it had to be sexual contact from an angel just the same age.
He sighed. She liked him; that was certain. He brushed invisible dust from his bright gold hair. But he would get in big trouble if he tried to make love to an eighth grader. BIG TROUBLE. They would probably kill him or something.
The demons. He had seen one lounging about here quite comfortably on a sofa—invisible, of course—but he hadn't been able to remember that one's name. He always forgot these things. Sometimes his mother told him that he really did have brain problems because he couldn't remember anything.
He sighed. It was all he could do to watch over her and keep her safe.
It was finally seventh period. When the passing period bell rang at full volume and unmistakably, Min-Jung jumped up from her seat excitedly, having already packed her belongings into her backpack, and hurried with Aisha Rafiq, another of her friends, to Band, last period.
The two eighth grade girls were eagerly heading across the vast campus when the golden-haired new boy joined them on the path. "Hello," he greeted his two peers quite formally. They nodded and waited for him to introduce himself. "I'm…I'm Brandon," the angel stammered.
"Hi," Aisha, the more outgoing of the two, replied with a pretty smile. "I'm Aisha Rafiq, and she's Min-Jung Soo."
"I can tell my own name, Aisha," Min-Jung said coldly. Aisha laughed it off, as she was prone to do. "What school are you from?" the Korean girl asked curiously. The boy scratched his head as they neared the band room.
"Me? I'm from…I'm from a school in Manitoba—you know, Canada. I came here just for junior high—maybe even just eighth grade," Brandon answered. The girls looked a little disappointed. Good sign. That meant they cared. He had learned from years of living with an older, boy-obsessed, fingernail-painting angel sister that if girls looked disappointed, it was a good sign.
"O. Do you have Band next?" Aisha asked. Brandon nodded, showing them his trumpet case. It wasn't a lie, necessarily—he did have a trumpet and he had taken band a long time ago on his first descent. But…he had forgotten. As always. He could only pray that fate would take care of itself.
"Yes," he answered.
Xita watched the human girl hungrily. She was beautiful. She would satisfy this hunger that had gnawed at his stomach since what seemed like the beginning of time. He laughed to himself.
The angel would be no problem. The angel was inexperienced and easy to deceive. What a pure, immaculate, white soul…perfect to destroy. Yes. Now if only the girl fell in love with him…that would be it. The most recent white soul would be destroyed forever. A delicious mission to savor.
It was good that she was only in eighth grade. The girl was younger and fresher; it would be better to make love to a body such as that. Her form was a little childish but that would make it a bit more fun.
And what was more, the male guardian angel was unproven because they had sent one her own age in order to be compatible with the Consecrated Scripture. Brandon, as he called himself (of course this was not his real name, his real name was complicated and to hard for humans to pronounce) was inexperienced and uncertain about everything: he would not be able to sense the dark force of demons. Xita immediately changed his form to an eighth grade boy.
Shadow. That was the concept, as usual. His hair was pitch black, his skin tanned into a shade as brown as cracked almonds, his eyes as dark as abysses in the ground. The eighth grade girl would fall for him immediately: he would make sure of that. What a nice mission to have.
He looked intently into the air and switched visions so he could see the girl in his mind. She was asleep on her bed in a fetal position. Yes. Perfectly innocent from the adult world. Her friend—Keona, was it—looked tasty too, but it wasn't part of his mission to defile her as well. No one could perform a mission unless it had been conducted from the Great One himself, who ruled this land so effortlessly. Some called him a genius…a dark genius. Xita thought about the ruler.
Ah, yes. The Great One. Few referred to him as the Great One besides the demons themselves, his minions. He was known as the Devil, Satin, etc…and there was that Christian story about how if you committed the greatest of crimes he would gnaw on you until time ended. This of course, was untrue. The Devil was too full of himself to spend his time gnawing on people. And time never ended.
Xita stretched his fingers. He couldn't keep the girl waiting too long.