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...

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3. The Protest

Quickly, everyone gets their picket fences ready, putting on white face masks. We stick out like sore thumbs, all dressed in white. 

"Let's go," says Mother, her voice muffled by the face mask. All of us, holding picket signs and cones to use as megaphones, march out of the parking garage. The cambions on the street only glance at us. We're no more than annoying bugs to them.

We march up the ramp, and the adults and more radical children begin yelling.

We march through the streets to City Hall. We walk in one large circle, the nineteen of us. The several adults yell at any passing cambion, the littlest kids even chasing them. One of the Pruitt boys shoves a male cambion. 

The cambion, wearing a suit and holding a briefcase, turns on us and hisses, his eyes turning solid black. "Watch it, blanch!" 

"Hellspawn!" yells Missus Pruitt. The cambion just growls and stalks up the stairs angrily. The other cambions roll their eyes and go about their day.

We continue to yells and harass the cambions, but they just pass us by.

Eventually the day wears on, and the amount of people becomes slower. 

We move our procession outside a mall where a lot of young cambions go. 

A long time ago, humans used to go to mall and restaurants, had jobs. Then the demons came and everything fell. The demons within the humans was too concentrated, and they laid waste to everything. They scorched most plant life, killed many of the animals in the process, or to simply feast upon. They set fire to cities, possessed leaders and made them bomb cities, release plagues. They ravished and possessed the adults until so many generations later, they were one: human bodies, but souls twisted by demons.

Now, cities are in partial ruin, and the cambions, the descendants of the demons and raped humans, rule the earth.  They rebuilt cities and some sort of a society everywhere. 

The world and population has drastically changed in the last few hundred years.

Lost in thought, I don't notice someone crashing into me. 

"S-Sorry," I stammer, flinching back. I stare, horrified, at a young cambion. His eyes flash back and his lips pull back over his teeth in a sneer. 

"It's fine," he says quietly. His eyes remain black, but he just shakes his head and starts to move away. 

Then Mother interferes.

She shoves me behind her and starts yelling at the guy, who is about my age. "Hey, hell-freak!" she starts. "I don't want you touching my daughter! You need to apologize and leave, right now!"

"Well, what do you want me to do? Leave, or apologize?" he asks angrily.

"Both!" 

If the cambion could roll his eyes, I'm sure he would have. 

With black eyes boring into mine, he says, "Sorry." He looks to Mother. "I'm going now." He turns away. 

"Freak! Rapist!" Mother yells after him. "Demon!"

"Mother, don't-" I start. With unearthly speed, he darts back over, getting in her face. Every human holds their breath, too horrified to move. You can hear the collective though: Does one of them dare get near us? It does!

"Don't. Call. Me. A. Demon," he says through gritted teeth. I can see his nails sharpening, an old demonic defense.

"S-she didn't mean it-" I start. He rounds on me. 

"And you?" he sneers. "Think you're so special, standing up for cambions, huh? I forgave you, so shut your mouth, blanch!" He shoves me, and I feel something inside me, nonphysical, break. 

I land hard on the sidewalk, tears brimming in my eyes. No one even in my family moves to help me.

"Just leave us alone, demon," hisses Mother.

"I'm not a-!" He pinches the bridge of his nose, frustrated. "You know what? Never mind." He stalks away from us and the mall. 

Several cambions give us dirty looks, and some police officers move toward us, guns at the ready. 

"Let's just go," mutters Mother. She pulls my up by my bicep, digging in her fingernails, drawing blood.

"Ow, Mother, please," I start.

​"Shut up. Just. Shut up. You're an embarrassment to this family and to humans. You're going away where no one will see you for a good long while," she hisses, dragging us through the streets and to the parking garage. Along the way, some cambions stare at us. Their reactions are all across the board: amusement, hatred, annoyance, pity...and possibly, sympathy? I spot some staring at me, the tears streaming down my face. They just look away and continue about their business. 

In the parking garage, Father opens the trunk and we put signs away. The other families rapidly put away things and drive off before our family can speak to them. 

I stand off to the side, putting my jacket on, which I had taken off earlier in the summer heat. I use the sleeve to press against the wounds Mother made. They're not just nail marks, they're scratches. 

I look up, startled, and flinch away from my approaching mother.

"Give me that!" she yells, her rage seething. She rips the jacket from my hand, the blood spattering onto my white dress. "Because of you, we're now a laughing stock! When we get home you little...bitch-" our family stares at us. No one uses vulgar language, especially not the parents. "You're not going to be our daughter anymore! I've had it with you!" She gives me a twisted smile. "We're going to make you a good girl, whether you like it or not. And the first thing-" she laughs coldly "-is that you're going to burn all the books."

"What? No," I start, the tears flowing, more so than from my scratches. "Please. Don't."

"Just get in the car."

When I get in the car, my three siblings crowd against each other away from me. Probably afraid of catching my outlandish behavior.

We drive out of town, only passing the warehouses when I think notice an anomaly in the sky. 

I wipe away the tears blurring my vision and lean closer to the window, pressing my nose on it. I get a yell from Mother, but ignore her. 

In the dark sky of churning clouds, I see a little light. Then another and another, dozens, hundreds, thousands.

My siblings ooh and aah at them. I see Mother clutching Father's arm. "It's the rapture. It's the rapture," she repeats. I can't tell if her voice is in awe or fearful.

"I don't think so," I murmur.

"What are you now, a nonbeliever?!" screeches Mother. "WHAT ELSE COULD IT BE?!"

I continue to stare out the window as the white dots get larger and larger, and a thought comes to me. 

As one dot gets larger, I think aloud. "Are these stars?"

Then, a star slams into us, causing the car to go flying, all of us crashing into each other and through windows.

When the car stops rolling, I see a blazing white figure standing over the car.

Is it a star?

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