Prologue
April 19, 1875

Wordlessly he approached her. The eerie echoes of his footsteps disturbed the peace in her darkness. That was all she had left anyhow: quiet darkness. She struggled to raise her gaze to meet his. Such a piercing hue of blue stabbed at her heart, which then beat madly in her chest. She sat there, curled in a ball, perfectly still, eyes cold, in the corner. They held the painstaking gaze a second more, for he would not dare hold it any longer for her breathing became rapid. Suddenly, as if the very life had been snatched away from her, she collapsed.

Perfectly still, eyes cold, she lay with a never changing face, seemingly perfect, as an angel should be. If the boy had any emotions, he might have felt sorry for her. Her deathly black hair covered her ghastly pale face, her arms wrapped tightly around her. Perhaps she was comforting herself? He scoffed and turned on his heel, silently slithering away. For if he stayed longer, unnecessary emotions may have begun to develop.

He of all souls should know there is no need for love in Hell.




Chapter 1: April 2, 2010
Danger.

Danger.


Danger.
The cruelness of the world was beginning to melt as a warm metallic scent wavered in the air. Donmir’s wrist burned hot, it seemed on fire even contrasting with the coolness that was beginning to envelop her very being. Her eyes opened slightly as she fell to her knees, she felt on a high, she couldn’t get enough.
“What on earth do you think you are doing?” a sharp, stern voice demanded. Donmir’s attention snapped back to the real world and she eyed the annoying blob of color that she still couldn’t put a name to, it called itself her “Guardian Angel” until some switch, it babbled about often occurred.
“Don’t stand there and eye me like an idiot. You’re bleeding out like a cow sacrifice, I told you this wasn’t happening on my watch,” the blob of annoyingness mumbled and hovered—floated- whatever it does into the hall. Looking down, Donmir clutched her wrist; she hadn’t been able to end it--again. The sudden pain that had come caused tears to flood down her face. She stood carefully, staggering to find where the blob of annoyingness had wandered off too.
Donmir took the scolding without really listening. She never really listened anyway to the blobs. They were a strange haze of every amazing color you could think of, but could never name. One of the blobs had been “assigned” to her to protect her from someone. Leaning against the wall, Donmir flexed her now bandaged hand and watched the blob rummage the hall closet looking for some aspirin. Suddenly bold Donmir walked forward, hand outstretched toward the haze.
“Get your hand away.” It said softly, almost regrettably.
“Why not, you’ve been floating around in my house for the past month now. I think I deserve—“
“You deserve to randomly touch someone? Is this how you treat all your companions?”
Donmir huffed, frustrated, she glanced away from the blob, defeated. A sing-song sigh came from the blob as it hovered past her and into her room. Curiously she followed, arms crossed. “I really don’t understand why you’re still here. And why you came so suddenly.” She mumbled. A lock of her shoulder length black hair was lifted into the air, “And your ‘powers’, or whatever, annoy the fu-….fickle out of me.”
Recently the blob was hollering at every curse word she had said so she decided to play it safe this time.
“If you knew what was coming for you Donmir, you would appreciate me so much more.” It took shape, something it only does when a “life-changing” lesson made its rounds. Silently she watched as a haze of blues, greens, pinks and orange merged into a womanly shape, the symbol of a key appeared above where the angel’s heart should be. Awed, she reached out, desperate, needing something.

“Donny dear,” the angel said hovering away from her outstretched hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

The sky growled out to announce another oncoming storm, Don’s perfect weather, it seemed things impossible could happen in a lightning storm. Rain pelted the roof of the old house, and the familiar urge to run through the rain overwhelmed Donmir’s senses.

“I’m going out front, don’t bother following me.” Don snapped as she stomped to the front door, “I’m completely serious; I just want to be alone.”

The angel sat as her face turned grim. She could no longer try and protect Donmir anymore, for the next time she stepped into this house, Don would be utterly dead, and her only assignment was to protect the life of Donmir Alice Turnabout.