The Anathema

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  • Published: 30 Mar 2017
  • Updated: 25 Apr 2017
  • Status: Complete
Long ago, demons and hellcreatures invaded earth. Though they nearly wiped out the humans, humans did as always: adapted. Hundreds of years later, the offspring of humans and demons is the norm. Alessandra lives in this world, and is entirely human. Finally, too late to the battle, the angels are determined to get rid of the demons once and for all. Alessandra, though caught in the midst of the battle, is the only hope for the humane side of the cambions...if it even exists anymore...


16. A Hinge

Standing before two of the most powerful archangels, I'm in awe.

I keep my awe in check though, because I know they can smite us without flinching. I'm surprised they haven't, since I'm standing amidst a group of a dozen or so cambions, which they dub demons.

Michael cocks his head curiously.

There's something about this moment. This is where everything is a make-or-break moment: everything hinges on this moment. One wrong move, and it's all over. The options are limited, and this is a deciding moment.

We stare at Michael, and, though he radiates power and is attractive by human standards, also looks a lot like a normal man. He has short brown hair and calculating brown eyes. Hey wields a five foot long sword, though, which really throws off my perception of "normal."

"So," he says, the faintest bit of amusement in his voice. "This is the infamous group of cambions I've heard of. Led by the cambion Even. The cambion Lucia-" Though Lucia...she's been pretty much invisible since we left the caverns. I haven't really seen her. "And the human Alessandra White." He cocks his head at me, but turns his eyes to Even. "I'd like to hear what you have to say first."

Even, clearly terrified, takes a deep breath and takes a step forward. He puts Tariel's sword on the ground. "I want you gone. You invaded my home and killed my friends. You had no right, and I don't care if God himself told you to. We're not demons. We haven't been for a long time. We...we're not evil. Some of us are...are more mean, yes, but not all of us. We're still part human, and that's been shown. Our demonic ancestors destroyed the world...but we, the cambions, descendants of both humans and demons, rebuilt what was destroyed. If we were demons, we wouldn't have done that. We're not evil. And I just want you to go." 

He takes a step back, trembling. Even doesn't usually show much emotion, but now he's clearly terrified of being disintegrated or something.

Tears well up in his eyes and spill over.

Michael tilts his head, considering. "Alessandra?"

"I agree with Even," I say, seeing mildly surprised looks from several angels. "While the cambions haven't been particularly nice to me...ever...humans have never been kind to them. Humanity used to do the same thing to themselves, over stupid disputes about skin color. It's a human thing, to hate. 

"But just because we hate, does not make us evil. It makes no one evil. You justify your killing by saying you can't disobey orders, when you can. You will fall, but it will be rightly justified," I say, gesturing back to Sariel, who stands up straight, but averts his eyes from his elders. "Angels are warriors of God, yes, but you are supposed to be good. I don't see what's good about killing people that are still part human. Your orders were to protect humans, when in fact you're killing them. You're killing the part of humanity that resides in them.

"Just because they're not 100 percent human, does not make them evil."

I step back, somewhere between that hollow peace and a full blown panic attack. 

Michael considers again. 

He's about to speak, but a guttural scream from behind me makes everyone turn.

Lucia, wielding a rusty pipe, charges forward. Toward Michael. Who is only standing several feet away.

The angels, in too much shock, do nothing.

Without thinking, I jump in front of her path, becoming skewered by the pipe. It pierces something inside me, and I can feel the blood rushing out. 

There's a scream, and Even's rushing over, looking as terrified as he did when he faced Michael.

There's a whispering voice in the back of my head, but I ignore it.

"Alessandra!" yells Even. He tears off his jacket, trying to staunch the flow of blood. His eyes turn solid black.

"Look at me," I say through gritted teeth, looking angrily at Michael. "I WANT YOU TO LEAVE!" I cough up blood, the pool becoming thicker around me. "You've done nothing good here. You spread violence and death." I cough up more blood, my voice becoming raspy. "I don't know what it will take to convince you angels to go, maybe nothing. But-" I cough more blood. "If anything can-it should be this! I'm a human hated by cambions my entire life..." I can feel mine slipping away. "Yet I'm helping them because I sympathize with them. Nothing is accomplished by hate." The edges of my vision become fuzzy, and my wound throbs. "I've nearly died protecting them, and it's what I'm going to do now. I'm willing to die for them, because I believe in them. I believe there is good in them." I cough up more blood. I grab the front of Michael's tunic, dragging him in close for my final words. My vision is nearly black, but I can clearly see his surprised face. "What is more human, than this? We fight as one. We. Not them. We. We are people, and that should be enough."

My hold on his tunic loosens, and my vision goes dark, the last of my blood draining with my life.

With my last bit of consciousness, the little whispering voice is heard;

Was it worth it, Alessandra? Was your life worth taking for the cambions? 

Yes, I think to myself. I know it was...

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