Laneene
As Laneene sat at the bar, stirring the straw in her cup, she saw the lights flicker. She tensed, and her hand itched to reach back and grab the hidden sword at her back.
Though it was comforting to hold it, she didn't want to expose herself.
Not yet atleast, so she forced herself to pull her hand away from the cool steel, and placed it on the bar.
She couldn't just start killing, she had to have a reason, or she would be hunted.
Lane felt her lips tilt up into a sarcastic grin; the hunter could become the hunted. She shook her head and took a deep breath as she heard the screams begin.
It was time to start the hunt.
The screaming was a pounding rhythm in her head, one she hated, but was used to.
She clenched her teeth, feeling the beginning of anger beginning to thread through her veins.
No.
She clamped down on it and focused on the cold strength she was accustomed to. She couldn't let emotions get in the way of tonight, too much was at stake.
She turned around in the bar stool, and looked onto the dance floor. Three people were lying on the ground, unconscious, and the others were staring at the two people standing around them, if you could even call them people, she thought.
She had to force herself to keep a look of confusion on her face, instead of disgust.
They were both beautiful, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Both were wearing cocktail dresses, one was red and the other was wearing black. The girls both had a thin body frame, which made them look weak, but looks could be deceiving. These girls were strong, animalistic, and still looked like angels.
Lane rolled her eyes mentally, yeah, Fallen Angels maybe.
She stood up and walked to where they stood, circling the group of humans who looked terrified yet entranced.
"Girls," she said, sounding disappointed, "Didn't your Daddy ever teach you it's not nice to play with your food?"
Both turned to look at her, the one with the red dress hissed, "Who are you?"
She tsk'd, "Aww, don't you recognize me? I thought you would remember the girl who cut your wings."
Xenia hissed, she was the one wearing the red dress, and then the quiet one, Rhena, spoke. "Laney, it's been awhile. We didn't think you were still alive. I thought you would have been killed long ago."
Lane shrugged, "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not that easy to kill."
Xenia smiled, showing two rows full of razor sharp teeth, "We'll see about that."
Xenia attacked first, running at Lane head on. She was going to use her teeth and her claws, she didn't expect her to dodge and pull out her sword. Lane cut her arm and Xenia screamed and grabbed it.
Lane could smell the scent of burning flesh and she nearly grimaced, she hated that smell.
Silver burned the flesh of these beings, and it smelled awful.
While Xenia was busy with her cut, Lane took advantage of that and swung her sword in a downward arc. The sound of Rhena's high-pitched screech drowned out the sound of Xenia's body and dismembered head hitting the floor.
"You-You-" Rhena was so angry she couldn't even finish her sentence.
"I don't have the patience for this," Lane said in annoyance, then ran at Rhena before she could even realize what was happening, she slid her sword right through Rhena's heart. She heard the sound of Rhena's skin burning as she pulled out the blade and after a minute the screams stopped, leaving Lane feeling empty.
The place smelled of death and Lane sighed at the sight of the blood covering the floor. The people around her were all frozen, and she groaned. She couldn't let them remember tonight, so she had to get their minds wiped. Something she had to do to everyone. She pulled out her phone and called the first number in her contact list.
"Again? You know Lane, I'm not your slave, and it's not my job to clean up after you."
Lane growled, "Hello to you too Remiel. No, you're not my slave, but it's my job to kill, not clean up. I'm not in the mood to hear you complain about the job you Father gave you, so just do it and I'll do the cleanup myself next time."
Remiel growled, "How many humans were there?"
"Twelve live, two are dead." Lane gasped in pain and looked down at her arm, there was a mark the size of a nickel which was burning. She cursed; Rhena's blood must have splattered on her arm. Fallen blood was like acid to another Fallen.
"It's a good thing Dad loves you Laneene, or I would kill you myself. What's wrong? Tell me you didn't get their blood on you."
"Ok, I won't tell you." Lane said through clenched teeth, then hung up. She walked into the bathrooms in the night club she was in and turned on the nearest faucet.
She let the water run over her hand and cried out in pain. Lane just watched as her blood mixed with the water that was circling down the drain, her mind slowly processing the fact that she was now infected.
Fallen blood was deadly to other Fallen, it forced it's way into their blood stream and affected their powers and their way of thinking. It caused Fallen to be more animalistic, out of control, and slaves to their immediate emotions. After a month, the blood would finish it's course and the Fallen would either live or die a slow, painful death.
Laneene wanted to growl at her own stupidity. How could she have been so reckless?
This wasn't the first time she had fought again two Fallen with her sword, but it was the first she had let their blood touch her.
She needed to do something, to help somebody before it was too late and the blood began it's course. It was her duty to protect, and if she failed, the guilt was liable to kill her or get her killed.
She didn't bother to turn the water off as she walked out of the restroom and past the people in the club.
The people in the club watched her walk by, their eyes were glassed over and they appeared to be in shock still. Laneene knew Remiel would take care of it, these humans deserved to live without knowing the truth.
She walked out the back door and into the alley. Lane closed her eyes and listened, in a nearby town, a man was attacking a woman. With a smile, she unfurled her large, sleek, black wings.
The feeling of the wind against Lane's face was comforting to her. The darkness of the night hid her; even the moon didn't illuminate her. She was part of the night, as much as she was part of the day. She too was a Fallen Angel, part angel, part demon. That was what they were. They were given the choice to become a demon, or once again an angel. Fallen Angels lost their wings by killing innocent humans, only a Fallen could kill another Fallen, but if a Fallen killed innocents again after they get their wings cut, than they have to be killed.
An angel whose crime just barely was enough to make them a fallen angel became a Fallen, the hunter of those who needed to be hunted.
Lane shook her head and focused on the sound of the woman's screams. Lane found her in an alley, in the pitch black. She could see perfectly, which wasn't unusual because Fallen Angels were gifted with perfect sight in light and dark when they fell. Lane folded her wings in and as her feet touched the ground and she looked around. There was a blonde woman in a dress struggling against a man, who looked to be regular build and size, with a knife.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you to pick on people your own size?" Lane's voice was low, very demonic. It was a voice she only got when she was angry or hungry, and unfortunately for this man, she was both now.
The man turned to look at her. His eyes widened in disbelief and fear as he saw her. He dropped the knife and slowly backed away. "What-what are you?" he stuttered. Most humans thought Fallen were something magical, but there were some who saw them for what they truly were, monsters of the night, who killed those who needed to die. This man, he was seeing Lane in her demonic form.
Lane smiled, and extended her wings to full size and let her eyes change to the color she hid most of the time: black.
"I am neither good nor evil. I am your worst nightmare."
Lane knew she was truly his worst nightmare, and she reveled in the feel of his fear, and the look of pure terror which was on his face. Before the man could move any further, Lane walked up to him, and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "The pain you have caused has come back, tenfold."
Then, as Lane felt her teeth elongate, she bit him in the neck. The taste of his warm, tangy blood in her mouth sent her into a frenzy. She couldn't get enough of the blood, she needed more.
It was only seconds before the man had been drained dry of his blood; there was no more life in his body. He was cold and hard as stone.
Lane heard the sound of a scream from behind her and she dropped the man. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, but Laneene ignored it and looked to the unlucky victim.
As she turned around, she knew how vile she looked. Her hair was flying all around with the force of the wind, and her eyes were black as night with blood dripping out of her mouth and her teeth were razor sharp. Her fingernails had elongated, becoming claws, and her wings were extended behind her, probably giving her the appearance of the Angel of Death to a human, or a Demon. Either way, it was what she was.
The woman was staring at her wide-eyed, her nostrils flaring and her breathing coming fast and heavy. She was afraid; no she was terrified of her.
Lane snarled, seeing red as her anger took complete control of her. "You stupid, selfish human, I did this for you; I killed the man who was going to kill you. Are you grateful? No you are afraid of me because of how I look. You are not worthy of life, fear is weakness and it can kill you." Lane lunged at the woman, knocking her down and landing on top of her.
As the woman fought, Lane could smell fear mixing with the tantalizing scent of her blood. She wasn't able to control her instincts anymore, and she grabbed the woman's throat and turned her head, while at the same time cutting off the screams which had been coming out of her throat.
Lane scraped her nails along the innocent woman's neck, and then she bit down, not as forcefully as she had with the man but enough to make the woman jolt in pain. As the blood flowed into her mouth she groaned, the taste of an innocent was so much better than that of a sinner.