Prologue
Music choice: War Pt. II - Former Vandal
February 15, 1913
Danielle Blake
I was walking down what seemed to be a never-ending, white, empty hallway. Eventually, a young man appeared out of thin air. His light brown shaggy hair ran a little past his ears, while his piercing emerald-green eyes locked onto mine.
I immediately felt self-conscious. I was wearing a thin white cotton dress with a light lace trim I didn't recognize and my dark brown hair fell down the bottom of my spine
"Just keep going straight ahead. Everything's going to be all right. It'll make sense in a minute." He said. His voice sounded cold and distant, echoing off the walls, yet his words were filled with warmth and comfort.
I nodded, walking past him, when I realized I never got a name. I turned around to ask, but he had vanished. I had a feeling I would see him again soon.
I reached a set of double doors. I stared at them for a minute, wondering why I hadn't seen them until then. Finally, I raised my arms up, pushed the doors open, and I walked in.
I walked up to a semi-circle, surrounded by complete strangers. There were eight people seated at the table forming this partial circle, six men and two women. Sixteen eyes stared down at me, judging me, while murmured questions spread.
"She is not what we expected."
"She's definitely different."
"Are you sure this is her?"
I could easily tell that my small, simple look was not what they had in mind. But what was it that they expected? Someone strong? Someone exceptionally brilliant? A man? They were whispering their thoughts as if I was a highly important person. Then I heard the one thing I never thought I would hear.
"She is the one, I'm sure of it. She will be our Erue." A dark, sulky voice whispered over the other soft-spoken thoughts. What the hell is an Erue?
"Are you 100% sure?"
"Positive."
I did not want to hear any more judgments or predictions of my future. I am in charge of my life, no one else. Except maybe Patrick.
"What am I doing here? Where am I? Who are you? Where is my husband? I have to go home. He needs me." I said, infuriated with the endless questions.
"You do not know then?" an older blonde man asked.
"Kn-Know what?" I responded hesitantly.
"Think back to what happened before you got here." He answered. "What do you remember?"
What had happened? I closed my eyes and thought hard.
I had just arrived home around five o'clock at night and silently closed the door, locking it. I am wearing a basic blue cotton dress, with simple embroidery around the edges. I am nineteen, and married to Patrick Blake, a twenty-one year old man I've known for two years. At the time, I had no idea of his violent nature. I knew he could be a bit controlling, and he would have sudden outbursts of anger. I've seen him get so angry he would punch a hole in our wall. He would break things, like dishes and glasses if he did not get what he wanted. There would also be the rare occurrences of him yelling at me for things out of my control, like being late or not being able to make him dinner. I feared him, but was never prepared for what he was truly capable of.
I had just returned from a women's rights rally, which my husband unfortunately, is strongly against. I never mentioned to him that I went to these rallies, for if I did, he would never let me go. Thinking of the rally next week, I walked into the kitchen and turned the lights on.
"About time you got home." Patrick said, sitting by the dining table near the entrance, and folding up his afternoon paper. He had sandy brown hair that glittered in a certain light, with his normally sparkling blue eyes, though they suddenly appeared dull and glassy. His high-waisted trousers were grey, his pale white-collared shirt was distinct and his golden cufflinks noticeable.
"Yes, I-I was at Jessie's house for cake and coffee." I replied, stammering. My fear of my husband grew, as my heart thumped against my chest.
"You were never a good liar, Danielle." He stood up so fast; his chair fell back, as he removed his cufflinks to roll up his sleeves. I finally noticed the pungent smell of alcohol in the house. At the table, there was a half-empty bottle of liquor. Patrick was drunk.
"No, no, I swear." I responded, my voice shaking, my heart racing. I took a step back, the counter jabbing me in the back. He was drunk, and I wasn't sure what he would do. I had never even seen him drunk. Whispering, I repeated, "I swear."
"How many times have I told you that all you need to do in my house is cook and clean?" He asked coldly, steadily approaching me. The putrid smell of liquor only intensifying. Would he be doing this if he wasn't drunk? Was it just the alcohol that made him like this?
"But I can do so much more! I can work at a factory or learn to teach or go to school or something!" I insisted, my fear breaking, as I stood tall.
"You were at one of those women's rights events again, weren't you?" He asked, snickering."Well, it's very simple, you will not go anymore."
"You cannot make me do anything!" I shouted. I was done with his unwarranted commands. I was going to leave him, I'll go to my parents' house. It was over; I never wanted to see him again. There was only so much even I could take.
As I turned to leave, I felt a sudden sharp blow in my gut. I looked down at my body and saw blood. I fell forward into Patrick's chest, only to have the distinct scent of alcohol fill my nose. I sank to the ground, my body no longer able to support itself anymore. I turned my head toward Patrick, who was holding a sharp kitchen knife covered in a thick red liquid. It was my blood, as it dropped on the floor. I felt a rush of cold air brush my abdomen, as I saw my dress with a red blood stains off center, where the knife punctured through the material, into my skin. The knife slipped through his fingers, clattering to the clean floor. Patrick fell to his knees, sobbing, and his eyes bloodshot, as he held my hand, and placed my body onto his lap.
"Dani... I am so... so sorry... Danielle... Please... Stay..." Patrick whispered.
His voice began to feel distant, my vision began to blur, and I felt my heart stop.
I had dropped to the ground, tears racing down my cheeks like fire burning up my skin.
"I... I'm dead, aren't I?" my voice trembling.
"Yes, you have died. I am truly sorry." A white skinned, brown haired woman answered.
"Wh-What do I do now?" I asked, my tears clouding my vision.
"We understand this is a difficult time for you, but there happens to be a small window of opportunity for the both of us." The same woman said.
"What do you mean?" I asked, suddenly curious.
"We would like you to become a Guardian." A dark-skinned woman replied.
"A Guardian?" I asked, unfamiliar with the term. Is this what death is like? A whole new set of opportunities?
"A Guardian protects those that need protecting, those who cannot protect themselves. Loves and cherishes. A fierce warrior." A blonde haired man answered.
"But, why me?" I am not extraordinary in any way. If anything I am extra ordinary.
"You were unjustly ripped from your life, a life where you would have done great good. You are full of untapped potential. We want to give you this as a second chance." A dark voice boomed throughout the room.
I agreed in a heartbeat. A second chance at life. I would get my vengeance on Patrick. I could change the world. I could truly love. Yes. A million times, yes.
A man appeared, cloaked in black, and began advancing towards me. He Held an iron brand, with a gleaming white surface at the end. The next thing I knew, I felt the hot brand on my right wrist. The smell of burning flesh mixed with the immense pain I suddenly felt, but I knew better than to scream. The iron brand was lifted off my sun-kissed skin, as I pulled my wrist closer to see what had been done. I saw a pair of wings branded onto my skin in black.
"Welcome Danielle, to the Angelic World."
October 4, 2012
Once I had been welcomed to the world of Angels, I was asked if I wanted to specialize or live on Earth. Guardians are given a choice once they have joined. A Guardian can specialize with other Angels in the Angel's Realm, and become more powerful. Or, a Guardian can live on Earth, protecting a mortal. Most Guardians who decide to live on Earth do so because they still have family there. Initially, I wanted to stay on Earth and protect my family, but the ArchAngels told me how important I was to the Angel's Realm, and how I would learn much more than I ever could have imagined. I'm glad I made this decision.
The Angel's Realm is a lot like Earth, with Houses, a new family, and friends. The Angel's Realm is a safe place for Angels that are specializing, because nobody from Heaven, Purgatory, Hell, or Earth can enter. This protects Angels, and gives them a sense of safety and security while learning what they must.
I have been training for almost a century; studying mortals we didn't think existed, like vampires and wizards. I learned how to fight and how to defend. How to protect others. Learning all these unfamiliar things to become what I was meant to be. I have learned to adapt to this new, wonderful Angelic life, but not without a price.
I was too late for my vengeance. Immediately after my death, once my heart stopped beating, Patrick hung himself and died. The police discovered in Patrick's handwritten confession that he had killed me. Patrick is serving time in Purgatory for the murder of an innocent and current Angel. The only reason he isn't in Hell, is because he is remorseful, and he claims he wasn't entirely in control of himself. He can be released, but only with my forgiveness. I don't think he'll be leaving anytime soon.
My family, my parents, my older brother and my younger sister all grieved greatly. My parents passed away 10 years after my death, in the crossfire of two rival gangs in the City (New York City). They are currently Citizens of Heaven. I can only see them once every ten years. There is a severe separation between the citizens of Heaven and AngelsAngels are only allowed to visit citizens with whom the Angel shares a familial/blood relation. Angels cannot visit friends, only parents, siblings, cousins, and so on. The ArchAngels, which is a third of the Rulers, want the Angels to focus on their new life, and let go of anything that reminds an Angel of their past life. The Rulers are the government of all forms of the After-life, consisting of three parts, the ArchAngels, the Thrones, and the Older Ones.
My older brother, William, became a very successful businessman, employing women in factories during World War I. He supported and believed in women's equality and started a charity in my name a few years after my passing. Will got married and had 2 children, a girl and then a boy. Their names were Michael and Andrea, and ever so often, usually once a year, I check on them both. I am doing my job, and trying to make the world a safer place for what's left of my family. Unfortunately, all they know about me is that I died before they were both born. Andrea and Michael, both became very successful and accomplished individuals. Michael fought in World War II and Andrea became a nurse. Those two moved on with their lives, and lived contentedly with their own families. Will, on the other hand, never experienced a day without thinking of me, or how he wished he could have protected me. I blame myself for that. I have spoken to Will in his dreams, telling him that there was nothing he could have done, and tried to let him die in peace, and not in guilt. He did. Will passed away in the 1960's, when he was 74 and joined our parents in Heaven.
After my death, my sister, Anna, got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Within the year, an out-of-control vampire bit her and she was crazed for about 4 months, killing anything with a pulse. Anna was killed by a group of controlled vampires. She is doing a century in Hell for the 50 adults she killed, no matter her mental state. She is still in Hell, but I am trying for an appeal in front of the Thrones, who are the court of Heaven.
I have lost everything. Michael and Andrea are all I have left, the only reason I haven't tried to downgrade myself to a Citizen of Heaven. They are the sole reason for my hard work protecting the mortal world. The rest of my family, gone; my revenge, empty.
I am, according to the ArchAngels (Heaven's congress), a powerful combatant and Guardian. My abilities include combat, strategies, teleportation (although I am still figuring it out), sword fighting, and leadership. I still have yet to learn what they meant by "Erue" on my Death Day. They say I will do amazing things, and I believe them. The ArchAngels are the only group of Angels who can use their abilities to have glimpses into the future, and I have no reason to think otherwise. The only thing I am concerned with is how important this "Erue" piece of me will be.
I was a mere human, unable to fight back, but now, I am one of the most powerful weapons made in this century.
My name is Dani, and I am an Angel.
Author's Note:
Hi guys!
I'm the author of this story called Retaliation. I wrote this book as a 20% project for my senior year english class. The 20% project is a project in which we devote 20% of our time on any type of project we choose, and it doesn't have to be academically related. So I decided to write a book, because I've always wanted to write one. Since it's all done, I will be uploading a new or part every week, or even every couple of days. So guys please vote and comment!