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My Dark Angel Prince: Trapped in Death’s Embrace

Avalyn is a college student majoring in art, struggling to find her place in the world. On her way home, she stumbles upon the Angel of Death. At first, Avalyn is convinced that she's hallucinating, but as the gorgeous angel begins to speak to her, she realizes that this encounter is all too real. Avalyn becomes increasingly agitated as the angel continues to speak in riddles, unsure of what to believe. She begins to question her own sanity, wondering if this encounter is a product of her own imagination or if there's something deeper at work. She begins to find beauty and comfort in the Grim Reaper. The experience forces her to confront her own mortality and to embrace the uncertainty of life. Ultimately, she emerges from the encounter with a newfound sense of purpose, ready to tackle whatever the world has in store for her.

Egyptiangodess98 · Kỳ huyễn
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20 Chs

The Girl in the Picture

"Can you hear me, Avalyn? Open your eyes."

A voice was calling for me from the depths of darkness, I could not move, I could not, I tried to open my mouth, to say something, but my voice died in my throat and nothing came out of my lips.

"Stay with me. You have to open your eyes, Avalyn" the distant voice echoed again and I could feel it getting further and further away, or was it I who was sinking deeper into the seemingly bottomless darkness.

"Avalyn..."

"Avalyn."

I heard a voice, a more familiar, warm voice saying my name and all of a sudden I was not alone, not any more. There was someone with me, a hand reached out in my direction, a gentle breeze caressing my skin, a set of glittering, silver eyes.

I sucked in a deep breath when my eyes were finally wide open. I looked around me and was utterly perplexed to find myself in the middle of my small bedroom, sitting on my bed. I kept wondering how I got back there, how I was in the same outfit I had left in. If I recall correctly, I was lying in bed with just my underwear before I drifted into sleep.

I tried to calm down the pounding in my head then reached for my phone which laid forgotten on top of the dresser. I had to squint, the bright screen almost blinding me, to try and look at the date.

Saturday.

My heart nearly stopped. Was that all but just a dream? Had I imagined the big, far away city, the black castle seemingly floating in the crimson sky? What about Rey and the unimaginable dark power that seeped from his form when his control apparently slipped? I knew I did not imagine any of that, but there I was, in my bed, in the cold, early hours of the morning. My curtains lazily swayed back and forth with the crisp breeze.

I dropped the phone on the soft mattress and noticed that something was at the foot of the bed. Hesitantly, I nearly crawled to the red fabric that sat neatly folded on the thin cream sheets. I grabbed the fine material; silk. It was my dress, the dress which Rey had picked especially for me. Did he put that there? Was he the one who brought me back? I was just in my underwear, did he see that? I felt a wave of embarrassment and heat rushing through my veins and down to my core. I glanced down at my dark sweater, was he the one who put me in those clothes? My face burned with the thought.

I eyed the dress. It was not just a dream after all, it was not the work of the angel I had briefly met, and I had certainly not imagined any of that. it all happened. I had ignored that dreadful feeling in my guy that something was amiss, that all those strange occurrences were just a result of my exhausted mind playing tricks on me. I swallowed hard, the splitting headache was becoming almost unbearable. I needed to draw something, I needed an escape from my growing anxiousness.

I sat at the small wooden desk in my room and began fishing for a blank canvas amongst all the unfinished work. When I found one, I grabbed a pencil and began sketching faint, fine lines that would be gradually filled as I go on. An hour had passed and I was breathing hard, my hand seemingly moving on its own, as I drew vigorously until all that was left was the finishing touches and some shading on which I needed to work.

When I was almost done, I leaned back in my chair to catch my breath, I threw my head back and stared at the ceiling for quite some time until I forcefully steadied my breathing. With a final exhale, I glanced down at the piece of paper, only to find myself staring at a portrait. A portrait of a young girl, a young, beautiful girl with glistening bronze skin.

The air died in my lungs.

I got to my feet, kicking the chair behind me, and looked at the unfinished paintings lying face-down on the wooden surface. I immediately snatched some papers and turned them around. There she was, the beautiful girl, staring right back at me with a soft, gentle smile and kind, reassuring eyes. Almost each paper was either a painting, a drawing, or just a quick sketch of the young female.

I had been drawing the same person in different positions and with different techniques, different shading, and different settings. For some reason, I had been drawing her on and on again without even realizng.

I looked for a pen and signed it with both my name and date before grabbing the tape. I walked to the wall facing my bed and put it up there next to various posters and sketches. Once I was done, I headed towards the door, and even though I was not hungry, I needed to eat something. I reached for the metal doorknob, turning it to the side and stepping out before I bumped into something.

Oh, god, not again.

"What are you doing here?" I yelled almost impatiently. The man in front of me lifted a dark brow, confusion written all over his chiseled face.

"I thought you would appreciate it if I knocked, and if I..." he glanced inside the room, "came through the door." He added. He looked so unsure of himself, almost as if he was a little bit embarrassed. Was he?

I sighed, dramatically shaking my head, and walked past him, storming off downstairs. I was in no mood for immortal beings playing mind tricks on me and I knew my face showed it.

When I got to the kitchen he was already there, hands crossed tightly against his chest, he looked upset. I turned my head around and then back to him again, "Just how did you-"

"What's wrong with you?" He simply asked, his brows were tightly knitted together as it was taking all of his control not to yell at me.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?!" I could not take it anymore, the kitchen tiles threw my voice back at me and it was only then that I realized how loud I actually was.

"Ever since meeting you and everything has just been so strange, so...bizarre. It is as if I am in a dream that I can not wake up from. It feels like I'm not even here, like I'm just living some hazy memories, like I don't even exist."

I felt as if I was choking on the burning lump in my throat, tears threatened to escape my eyes.

"Nothing makes sense anymore. God, I don't make sense!" A pained laugh escaped my parted lips as hot tears began falling down my cheeks, my throat burned and my knees nearly gave out. My faint sobs filled the dense air.

I could not see past my blurry tears and I could not hear anything except my sobs piercing the heavy silence. It was not until I felt a touch against my face that pain rushed all over my body. I winced at the sudden wave of pain before realizing that Rey was touching me, he was suddenly facing me, his big body towering over mine, and his thumb wiping a single tear drop that fell over my cheeks. I used my sleeve to wipe away the rest of the falling tears and glanced up at him. He was standing so close that our chests nearly collided with each shallow breath I took.

"I am sorry, Avalyn." I heard him whisper under his breath, "I wish I could touch you right now. I would slay the gods above just to be able to hold you." He bowed his head slightly. He filled my existence with the sweet smell of amber, his loose strands of black hair falling gracefully against his face.

I thought that if I just closed the small distance between us, I would crash my lips into his, pain or not, I'd kiss the angel until I die in his arms.

"And I would also happily kill to get a taste of your..." His deep voice got dangerously lower and my breath caught in my chest, shivers ran all across my heated skin.

"...awful, dry cereal." He whispered in my ears and I snorted.I could almost feel the smile tugging at his lips. Something about his presence was so comforting and I immediately forgot about my little outburst.

"You're impossible."

"I've been called worse."

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