I opened my eyes slowly.I was in a dimly lit passageway. I was being dragged along the ground. My hands and legs were bound, my wings dragged along behind me. I was dimly aware that someone else was being dragged behind me. "So he was caught too, huh.." I passed out.......

I woke up. I was in a room. It was illuminated by a single torch on one side. I was chained to the wall by my hands, and my feet swung over the ground. My dress was dirty and my pure white wings had turned brown.Many feathers hung loosely and many more lay scattered all over the floor.....I passed out.

I awoke again.My vision was blurry. I looked about the room. It seemed to have gotten darker. I tried moving my head, but found I couldn't move it much. I cast my eyes around the room again. It was huge but bare. There seemed to be nothing there except me. There was one dark corner at the other end of the room. I couldn't make out anything from that area. I was still staring at it when a door opened to my left.

Something or someone entered. I couldn't make out what it was.It shuffled over to me and stopped. I couldn't see what it was doing. Without warning, there was a sharp pain in my left wing. I screamed. The pain came again, I screamed once more. Wave after wave of pain kept coming and I was screaming and thrashing about. The sounds of my screams and chains echoed all around. Then I felt something poke my side. It burned terribly. I began to black out, but just before I lost consciousness I was sure that I heard the soft clink of chains coming from the dark corner. "Was he there........?" I passed out.

When I came- to again it was pitch black….or was it? I wasn’t sure. I could hear various sounds around me, the soft murmuring of voices, the quiet steps of people, the soft whoosh of fabric…..where was I..?

I could detect a bit of light at intervals,yet I couldn’t see anything…then it hit me, I was blindfolded.With that realization I became aware of a gentle rocking movement. I was being carried somewhere. But why was I blindfolded? What is it that they do not want me to see? I had no answers to these questions. At any rate, for now, I had to find out what was carrying me. I tried moving my hands, but was rewarded with the clink of chains. I got the same result when I tried to move my feet, which  were folded neatly under me.

When I tried to move from my place, I felt a tug on my neck. It seems to be that  there were chains running from my neck as well. That would explain the strange heaviness I felt. But despite the extra load, my back felt strangely light. Could it be……no, it was too terrifying to consider, So pushing that   thought to the back of my mind I cast my mind about for another topic. But the feeling wouldn’t go.

I took a deep breath and steeling myself, gently tried moving my wings, but what I felt was not the swoosh of feathers, instead it was a stab of pain, as the tiny stubs of my wings moved a little.I winced and was immediately greeted with a whip. I dared not move after that.

Sometime later I was lowered to the ground. I was pulled to my feet and pushed through a door, stumbling in the process. Then I was roughly pushed to the ground and secured in place, after which my blindfold was finally taken off.

Before me was yet another room. It was larger and much more brightly lit than the previous one.

And in front of me stood a man.His face was impassive, but clearly he was expecting me. But why he wanted to see me especially, I did not know.

I waited in silence as his eyes rolled over me. He said nothing.He strolled closer , towering over me. I firmly kept my eyes glued to the ground. I dared not look up. I tried to quieten my breathing, which suddenly seemed very loud,now that he was so close. I squirmed internally as he keenly examined me, anxiety gnawing at the insides of my stomach.

After a full three minutes of this torture he said just two words. “Release her”.

For a second I was elated, thinking I was going to be freed, as my chains came off.But the next second, my heart plummeted and my anxiety doubled as everyone else left the room. Leaving me alone with him. I did not know what to expect, but my intuition was never wrong. I held my breath as he softly approached my back. “Long hair”, he murmured. Then without warning, my head was jerked upwards as he tugged at my hair. I held in a scream as a tear escaped my eye. I felt the blade as it passed by my head. Cutting off my long hair.

He slowly walked to my front, letting the locks of my cut hair spiral about me as he released them. To me it seemed like an age. He finally stopped.Directly in front of me. He was staring at me. Waiting for me to look at him, daring me to do so. I could feel his gaze on me, but determinedly kept my eyes turned downwards. The quiet power I sensed radiating from him was not a good sign.

But finally temptation won and I looked up.Directly into his eyes. What I saw scared me. The eyes , that had looked like lifeless voids till a second ago, now suddenly lit up, dancing.

 And a slow, cruel smile spread over his face

My eyes widened, my breathing became faster, my mind was screaming over and over again RUN!

And that’s all I wanted to do.But my body would not move.

He held my gaze for what seemed like an age before he opened his mouth. I waited, body tense with expectation.

“Tell me”, he said slowly “Do you…like angels…?”

I jerked my head back in confusion. Why was he asking me this? Was it to mock me? I didn’t get this man.

“Answer me.” He commanded, eyes  flashing notoriously.

I remained silent. My throat was dry, my heart was hammering against my chest. I could see where this conversation was going. And he was stupid if he thought I was going to reply.

“Oh!” the corners of his mouth were tilted upward ever so slightly.

“Playing safe are we?” he asked, chuckling.

I stared up at him confused, he was laughing? And here I thought he was going to do something terrible.I continued to stare in confusion as his chuckle grew into full fledged laughter, not knowing what it meant just yet.

I watched in terrified fascination as his laugh turned maniacal.

For one moment his arm was raised, and in the next, I was on the floor, tasting my own blood.My head reeled from the blow, my cheek stinging where he had cut it. I slowly pushed myself back into sitting position, not sure what this was about any more.

“Fine” he said, as he slowly knelt down to my level , “keep your silence if you will. But you’ll be begging to answer me soon”.

His eyes flashed notoriously but I only glared back defiantly at him.My mouth was firmly shut.

He waited for two heartbeats.”You’re really not going to answer me, huh?”

“……………………………..”

“Very well then. Let us begin.” He said , as a another dangerous smile spread over his face.  

 I sat on the floor, shaking on the inside, as I waited for something to happen.

A minute passed, two minutes passed. Still, nothing.

Is anything even going to happe- AAAAH! A sharp pain shot up my shoulder as I cried out in agony.

What had he cut me with to make it hurt so much? “AAAAAHH!” I cried out once more, as he cut me again. Digging deeper this time.

I lay on the floor, hunched up, panting. Something glinted in his hand

I raised my head, slowly, peering through the curtain of tangled hair, trying to make out what it was. He shifted his hold slightly, allowing me a better look at it.

A silver knife.

“Do you like it?”he asked. “I got it just for you, a silver knife. Afterall, angels just love it don’t they?”

“Don’t mock me” I hissed at him.

“Oh! But I’m not mocking you. It’s the truth” he said, Batting his lashes in an oh-so-innocent fashion

Disgusting. But well, he wasn’t lying.

 I remembered what one of my friends told me long ago. It is true that angels love silver, but angels also have a weakness against it. It hurts them more than normal. A prick from a silver object feels like being poked by a thousand knives, a single drop can effectively paralyze us for at least an hour, and simply touching it feels like you’ve been set on fire. That’s why we angels never use silver. 

 “ It shouldn’t be a problem for you right”, he continued, interrupting my thoughts. “after all you’re not all-angel,are you ,‘my sweet ’?”he said ,smiling sweetly.

I was shocked. How did he know that I was a Nephilim?

He leaned in. “Say, you look a little plain right now. Let’s pretty you up.” He leaned in closer, as he tipped my face upward to get a better look at it.

My mind was still reeling from the previous sentence and I dared not resist him right now.

How much more did he know about me?

 I knew not what he was thinking nor did I know what he wanted from me.

Why is he doing this to me? Why me?... Why me?

I was on the verge of tears and desperately tried to hold them back as he peered at my face.

“Such a shame though”, he continued, “You have a pretty face. It would not do to spoil it just yet.”

Instead, he reached for my arm.

Instinctively, I jerked it away from him.

“Come now,” he chided, as he forcefully held my arm “There’s no need to be shy. I’m just going to give you a tattoo.”

He stretched my arm out in front of him. And try as I may, I couldn’t extract it from his vice-like grip.

“Keep still.” he commanded me “Or I might make a mistake.”

I was panicking by now, but his grip on my arm had tightened so much that I couldn’t even move it anymore.

He considered my arm for two seconds, as he settled into a more comfortable position, and, without pause, he plunged his knife into it. I let out a shriek that set my ears ringing.

Oh The Pain!!!

Tears welled out of my eyes, as I gave in to hysterical sobbing. I desperately twisted and tugged at my own arm in a vain effort to pull it out of his grasp. The knife was still in ,but I didn’t care anymore.

HE’S MAD! MAD! FREAKING MAD! DERANGED! I had to get away from him, no matter the cost, even if it was an arm.

But there was no escape. His grip tightened further, till my wrist cracked. And holding onto my broken wrist, he dipped his knife into the gushing wound, staining it with my blood once more. “Beautiful.” he whispered as he proceeded to draw a pattern using my blood. I watched in horrified fascination as he gently drew the lines on my arm with great concentration. The design was so intricate.

As if he were actually making a masterpiece.

A sharp pain brought me back to my senses, as he dug deeper into the wound, causing my blood to gush forth once more. The wound throbbed, sending jolts of pain up my arm every second. My body shivered from the fright, from the pain, from the cold.

I just sat there, numb with fear, hoping this would get over soon.

I sat there, I knew not for how long, when I suddenly became aware that the pain was spreading upwards.

But curiously enough, it was not like before. No sudden jolt of pain, no sudden spurt of blood. Yet I could feel something wet dripping down my arm. Was he stabbing the wound again…?

I peered through the haze of pain to see what he was doing. I had been sitting there for so long and he had cut me so many times that I knew not where the pain came from anymore.

What was he doing…? Then I saw the knife slowly sinking into my arm on the line of dried blood, after which, he proceeded to carefully pull it along the line, effectively cutting my arm open in the desired pattern.

By now, my arm felt numb and the throbbing distant. My legs were sore and stiff, from the various cuts he had given me every now and then to ‘check the quality of the ink’ as he called it.”After all”, he had said “I wouldn’t want your blood to be too dark”. Thus, he had succeeded in reminding me of another thing my friend had said The more angel blood gets exposed to silver, the darker it turns, and once it becomes black, the angel’s death is certain. However you, being a Nephilim, will last longer than most purebloods.

At least my survival is guaranteed then. I had thought, however the pain, Oh! The pain!

Many-a-times did I find myself wishing I were a pureblood. At least then I would be free of this pain through death, however, I was not, and thus I was doomed to suffer this pain for as long as he wished.

I was shaking badly now, causing my arm to tremble. Many-a-times the knife slipped, causing me to receive an extra cut or a slap to the face for ‘spoiling his work.’

I was too tired now, even to make a sound, and instead, gasped silently, as he carved on my arm, trying my best not to pass out. I knew not, what he would do with me if I did.

However, I had lost too much blood by now, and slowly, my consciousness faded away.