Chapter 1: Stained wings

Every demon should have its own angel. Its other part. Its equal element. Or somehow like that they are saying it. Then why am I still alone and part of me is missing? In this never ending war the chance that I would find my angel is even smaller. I know that, but my soul still longs for something I can't have.

It is like an eternal circle.

With every wing I rip apart it's become clearer. Why can't I stop? Why do I look into their scared eyes? I'm looking for something that I can't describe or understand. I'm looking for a meaning, which still eludes me. I'm standing on the battlefield full of dead bodies, in the middle of an emptiness of the soul filled with death and smell of blood. I'm looking into eyes of dead angels and asking: WHERE ARE THOSE WHO WHOULD SHED TEARS FOR YOUR DEATH?

The third day of death – the diary of a demon

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Everything hurt. Actually, it felt like his world was made from never ending pain. The curtain ofblood floating down from his wounded forehead was making impossible for him to see anything. Instinctively, he was still putting one leg before the otherstubbornly refusing to stop. Over all the pain he felt his fear even greater. Where the pain was destroying his body, his fear was paralysing his very soul.

It was wrong!

This all was wrong! It wasn't supposed to happen! It was absurd! In spite of everything he started laughingbut the laugh was quickly replaced with painful cough. He had to lean against a tree to prevent himself from falling. For a moment he wondered what was the point in this continual wandering around. He was almost dead anyway.

On his lips appeared a bitter smile, which was quickly gone. The bitter feeling returned when he again he started cough. His lungs were not drawing in air like they should. Everything looked so meaningless. Even a life. It was so easy to close eyes and never open them again. So tired. He couldn't remember the last time he was so exhausted. Probably never. He desperately wished to forget everything. So much so that he wanted to stop thinking about it.

They were wrong! He couldn't just stand and look at them. It wasn't right! That wasn't supposed to happen! Not that! Not like that!

Tiredly he slipped down between strong roots. To protect himself from cold he wrapped his wide wings tightly around himself. White feathers were stained with blood and dirt but he didn't bother. Who cared that the once shining whiteness was gone? He was cold and that was all he cared about.

Everything hurt so much he couldn't even sleep. All he could do was fall into a half unconscious daze. He wanted to die… To forget… To disappear…

The screams were hunting him and didn't let him rest. The painful visions of blood and crippled bodies filled his mind. He wanted to yell all the pain he felt in his heart. If only he wasn't so tired. Instead from his eyes fell silent tears.

… so cold.

He wrapped the wings around himself tighter and noticed that snow had started falling. It couldn't be colder. That whole place was one big freezing piece of ice. Even the trees were cracking from the cold.

… so tired.

He couldn't sleep. The only thing he could do was to fall unconscious when the blood lost finally kick in. But he needed to stay awake, if he fell asleep he would die. He needed to wake up his already half sleeping mind and continue. He knew that he could freeze to death any moment. But to continue where? Besides it was so hard to keep his eyes open. They felt so heavy, as if it would be easier to lift up two stone desks. It was strange that he didn't feel the cold anymore. His body had to be to dumb from the freezing wind that it couldn't feel anything anymore. He didn't mind…. Death was something he welcomed with open arms. It would mean that he could forget everything. Mostly them. Something in his mind was screaming at him. Something wanted him to wake up and continue.

If only he wasn't so tired. If only he knew what to do.

He tried to live among them. But he couldn't just pretend to not see.

He tried to run and live for what he believed in. But he wasn't strong enough.

The last thing that came to his mind was wishing he could forget.

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Blood.

That was something he was used to. There was always so much of it. On his body … his face … and mostly on his hands. He lost count of how many of them he killed. It was so easy. They were so confused… so lost. All of them. They didn't know what to do. How to react. When everything was destroyed and the chaos of war had reached everywhere some of them even became monsters.

He grinned.

He liked them. They gave him an excuse for killing them. He felt strange when he killed the innocent ones. He hated to feel that way, but the ones who had turned into monsters that were almost worse then he was… that was a whole different story. It was almost pleasurable. Satisfying not only to his body but his soul as well.

He didn't care who he killed. Angels or demons they all were his enemies now. He couldn't care less. They were pathetic. All of them, no matter how graceful they were making themselves out to be!He despised them. They were all filth. They were worth nothing to him.

The black lather wings were forcefully ripping through the freezing air. It was so long since he had flown so freely. They were arguing … his people … forcing him to stay with them …

He hated closed rooms. It made him feel sick. He couldn't stand it. He needed to be free. Somewhere, he could run freely without bothering about others. He didn't need them. He hated them.

He hissed angrily.

How could they tell him what to do? How to act? How to feel?

He wasn't feeling regret.

He didn't know how.

He didn't know that feeling.

He was Bakura after all.

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There was something. Something shining white on the edge of the forest. Bakura could see it with a corner of his eye and that caught his attention. He was curious to see something untainted when only the grey ashes of destruction could be seen all around. What could be possibly so white to stand up in such ugly mess?

Bakura carefully landed on the ground. He didn't like forests too much. They didn't give him the needed space. He wanted something where he was free. Somewhere where he could spread his wings and feel the rush of wind under them. With an annoyed sigh he looked closely at what caught his attention.

He gasped.

It was a body of a dead angel.

The white hair was half covering the pale face that retained its gentle features even in death. Bakura took one step closer to look who it was. The angel had obviously frozen to death. What looked like a shining snow from above were his wings half wrapped around his form.

They were dirty.

Stained with dirt and blood. But yet they were so beautiful. Bakura held back the urge to touch them. They looked so smooth and soft. There was blood all over the youth's body, some remaining on his face as well; it looked as if he'd been in a fight.Sad.

He looked weak yet strong. But those he was fighting were obviously stronger than him. It was strange but true. He looked so fragile but something about him screamed of stubbornness. Bakura leant further to take a closer look. Two icy paths trailed down the boy's cheek.

Tears!

He was crying before he died. Thought Bakura unsurprised. When he was about to kill someone they were usually crying and begging him for mercy. But this one's face looked different. It's so sad. He looks like he died from inner suffering.

Bakura leant a little bit closer and carefully ran his tongue over the boy's cheek. The tears frozen on his face tasted strangely. They were still salty yet … sweet. Maybe it was the angel's skin what tasted so sweet to him. He didn't know. Just as the thought of leaving the woods and the angel behind crossed his mind he noticed something surprising.

The angel was breathing.

He was still alive.

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Ok I'm sending this as well. Hopefully you will like it and let me know ). Unfortnately I've lost the original document on my computer so this is the other version. Should be the same but if not I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not updating for so long but the last few months I've worked 63 hours per week and sleeping was the only thing I could think of doing. I changed job now so I should be able to update sooner.

Also for everyone who is waiting for update of the "Sometimes you can't have everything" it will be updated at Saturday or Sunday this week.

Thanks

Murail