A Cloak Of Feathers

Chapter 1 -Ghallows

I tread lightly, careful not to disturb the forest floor or bring attention to myself. Drawing my dagger across a cloth, damp with qeres, angel poison, I move silently towards my target. The creature crouching just beyond a tall redwood tree gnaws at a deer carcass. It must be desperate to be eating one of those. One of its three heads stay on alert, watching for any signs of movement within the dense forest with its hollow eyes. A ghallow, once an angel who devoured too many human souls, has become one of these heinous creatures. A dangerous and unpredictable being.

I keep my breathing calm and slow, if all goes well, Its ragged wings will soon be added to my collection.

With one smooth movement, the dagger pierces through the air, slicing into the skull of one of the ghallows three heads with a dull thunk.

Its scream rings my ears as I prepare myself for the second throw. I sprint towards it, the ghallow rises its mottled wings, jaws unhinged as it leaps on its clawed hind legs.

I swiftly throw the second dagger.

"Shit!"

I miss, only clipping its ear. I dive roll before the ghallow lands on me, stabbing my last dagger into its second heads eye. It reels back, I wipe the putrid black blood off my cheek. Two daggers still stuck in its heads. I need to find the last one.

I quickly scan the forest floor, I need to strike while its weak. There, glinting by a patch of ferns, my dagger lay. The ghallow notices the dagger as I do, and begins its ascent into the air. Pure adrenaline surges through me as I sprint to the dagger.

Gripping it tightly in my hands, I spin around to see the ghallow taking flight.

"Oh no you don't." I yell, throwing my dagger like a spear to its last head.

The ghallow comes crushing down through the tree branches like a dead bird.

"That's the last time you will fall." I hiss, cutting off its wings. I watch as I always do, as the ghallow turns to ash. Its remains floating away in the wind.

Slinging the wings over my back, I brush the ash off my daggers and make my way home. I squint into the horizon, I can just see the sun setting over the city, Zaronia. Living in between the forest and the city has its advantages. Its prime hunting ground for ghallows and the city is close by if I ever need to defend attacks. Im yet to spot an angel, but when I do, I doubt anyone could hold me back. Most disappeared after the bloodshed between angels and humans. Everyone says they are gone now, but I know if there are ghallows, there must still be angels.

I trudge down the familiar trodden path to the old house, paint peeling and cobwebs lace the porch. I drape the ghallows wings up on the trophy wall, where 50 other pairs hang. Many more are buried under the ground I walk on. Ma taught me everything there is to know about ghallows. After all, she survived the bloodshed war in 1998, she can survive anything.

"Ma?" I yell, opening up the front door. "I caught another, twice this week!"

Ma waltzes in from her study room, her long grey hair trailing after her like smoke, brows furrowing in concern.

"You be careful Keira, I swear with each passing year the number of ghallows grow, they are getting stronger too."

"I'll be fine," I laugh. "It's only ghallows, and you haven't seen a fallen angel since I was a child."

Ma's eyes harden, as if recalling a distant memory. "I still want you to keep your wits about you, I found you in the forest, I don't want to find you again, dead."

I nod solemnly, stirring the boiling soup in the pot. Ma has told me the story many times over, how she found me as a newborn in a forest clearing, blissfully asleep in the freshly fallen snow. April 12th, Sunday 1998, I was born, On that day, the Angels fell. 'You were so strangely warm too, the snow had melted around your body. I found nothing but three daggers wrapped in cloth tucked under you.' Ma thinks that's how I got the v shaped scar on my wrist, the daggers must of cut me as a baby. I tug my sleeve over the scar.