The Fallen

Annabelle's eyes widened. How... how had this happened? She swallowed, not understanding. She couldn't even move to get out of this. She winced slightly as the blade entered her throat slightly, but tried to make it seem like the pain meant nothing. She refused to show her confusion and immediate anger as well. How could he have beaten her so easily? It didn't make sense... she was better than him... she was a better fighter, and everything... this couldn't be real!

"No... a little blade in my throat won't do anything..." she said. Her loyalty to her cause and her pride wouldn't permit her to back down. She looked at him, still looking him in the eye to prove that she wasn't frightened of him at all.

His attempts to send fear through her succeeded, but like before, the woman didn't let it show. She noticed his eyes, and blinked, confused. "Why do they keep changing...." she asked quietly, an inquisitive eyebrow raising. The question had been aimed toward him, and she expected an answer. If she didn't get an answer, she would probably get a bit violent or angry.

She was glad when he finally removed that blade of his. Upon hearing him say he had no reason to answer her, she rolled her eyes. "I was merely curious..." she told him. "I would hope you were polite enough to answer me. Seems I was wrong, though I'm not surprised." She sighed, averting her eyes. Fallen angels never answered people, never showed up when they were needed... they were bad people. Annabelle couldn't say she had gotten her hopes up when she met him. Why would she? Fallen angels were scum, and she expected nothing more from them than horrible behavior.

Upon feeling the hilt hit her head, the woman fell to the ground. She whimpered, unable to have helped it. Her head started pounding and as she opened her eyes, only found her vision to be blurry. She couldn't see clearly. That wasn't good. He was probably going to pull something while she was weak. Him doing something like that wouldn't be a shock at all... he could have killed her, taken her wings, anything, and she would have expected him to do it.

Things would have been worse had she been entirely human. She moved her arms and tried to get up, only to fail. Wonderful... she couldn't even move. She couldn't even think without her head pounding more.

She could hear him walking off — she couldn't miss it. However, she wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. Well, at least he wasn't going to hurt her... or maybe it was a trick. It had to be a trick. Plus, she had lost. Lost...

"You're... walking away?" she asked, her voice broken and very quiet. "That's... a shock... aren't you... going to... kill me or something?"

The sound of her own voice hurt the pounding in her head more, and she winced again. She couldn't help but show the fact that she was in pain now, even though she wished she could stop herself from doing so.

Annabelle's eyes widened in shock, confusion, and terror when he sat near her. What was he doing? Was he going to watch her to make sure she didn't get away? She sighed inwardly, hating when she was weak. When he warned her that talking more would hurt more, she was completely and utterly confused. "Why... do you.... care....?" she asked him, her voice even quieter than it had been before. It hurt, but she really wanted to know. She was sure this was a trick, though. There was no way he could honestly care about her. She had tried to kill him, after all. She had done nothing to deserve this.

As soon as Cleanse pulled out the matches, the nephilim was sure he was going to throw them at her to burn her to ashes. She closed her eyes, expecting the flames to meet her skin and start burning her, only to not feel that pain. She opened her right eye slightly, noticing it was the log, not her, that he was burning. What was this about? Did he want her to be warm? The woman wasn't wearing a coat, after all. She would have smiled had she believed this was actual, genuine kindness, but seeing as how this was all a lie, she didn't do so.

When it actually became warmer, Annabelle's eye lids lowered a bit. Not like it would have mattered, much, since she could only make out the basic shapes of things at the moment. She sighed inwardly, and even though speech would cause her pain, she spoke again anyway. "I tried... to... to kill you..." she started softly, "why... are you... watching me... like this? Is this... a trick... or something?"

No reply. Of course. Annabelle was sure that it was a trick now. She was as on guard as she possibly could be in her current state, and if he even tried the slightest thing, she would risk using her power and go unconscious. It was better to be unconscious than to be dead, after all. She looked at her sword, which lay in front of her now. Her fingers moved slightly, but she didn't have enough energy to take it and put it back into its sheath. The half human would just have to take care of this when she got the strength to do so.

Her wings twitched when she could hear the vultures, and she closed her eyes tightly, expecting them to come down and start eating her alive. She was sure the fallen angel would watch and enjoy that, so she was once again surprised when she didn't feel the pain of their beaks nipping her skin. He probably just wants me to kill for himself... the nineteen year old thought to herself, beginning to let her mind wonder how he would bring about her demise. However, coming up with such ideas not only frightened her, but it made her head hurt more. She decided to forget about it, although she was still ready in case he tried anything.

Annabelle knew that with this murderous behavior, thinking too highly of herself, and all these grudges, she probably wouldn't make it to heaven, but she didn't really care. She was half fallen anyway, so she probably wouldn't even stand a chance. She closed, closing her eyes completely now. She kept her ears open, though, just in case he walked toward her or anything.

Annabelle was completely ashamed of herself. The fact that she had lost in not even a decent amount of time was a complete disgrace to herself. The woman had never lost a battle this quickly... how many moves had it been? She was sure it hadn't even been five, and was in fact, probably less. She was an idiot, but then again, she hadn't expected him to have won so easily. She still wondered what the deal had been with his eyes changing, and how he had gotten his blade in her throat that easily. And why had everything changed once he hit her on the back of the head? Maybe it was just what happened when one was barely hanging onto consciousness, but, then again, something had definitely been weird about it. His eyes changing, the scenery changing... there had to be a connection.

Well, it was decided. As soon as she was feeling better from this massive headache, she was going to ask him what he had done, and she wasn't going to accept silence as an answer. She would force it out of him if she had to. The nephilim was also going to train harder to improve herself, so that she could eventually kill him — or, to be a bit more realistic, at least stand a chance against him. It was absolutely pathetic to have lost in the short amount of time she had. She wasn't going to let him be better than her; she would become stronger than he was and defeat him in battle. She couldn't live up to her cause if she didn't.

As soon as she heard footsteps walking closer to her, Annabelle's eyes opened immediately, and she shrunk back a tiny bit, not wanting him to touch her. Had she had the energy, she would have put up a fight and not allowed him to touch her, but seeing as how she was weak, it wouldn't exactly be wise to thrash around like a fool.

Abhorrence for his action showed in her narrowed eyes, but she didn't speak. She didn't want to hurt herself any further, after all. She was sure now he just wanted to lull her into a false sense of security, then hurt her. He had tried to knock her out, was staying here to probably kill her if she fell asleep, was keeping the birds away so they couldn't kill her before he could, and had bandaged her wound so she wouldn't die of blood loss so he could kill her. Her distrust in him showed in her eyes as well, and she merely watched him, not going to close her eyes for a while now.