FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING
Chapter 103: THE DARKNESS(1)

Chapter 103: THE DARKNESS(1)

Everything was dark. Arella felt her breath coming out in short panicked bursts. Or at least she thought she was breathing. There was no air, no warmth, no sensation of her lungs expanding. And yet, her chest rose and fell as if she were gasping for air.

The darkness around her stretched seemingly infinitely in every direction, thick and painfully suffocating, feeling so much like ink that was trying to swallow her whole. She tried to move, but still, she felt nothing. Her limbs felt numb, disconnected. Almost, distant even.

Arella’s breath continued to come in short but rapid bursts, as she tried to calm herself down. She felt inwards, seeking her holy power, seeking the energy that she had been born with, trying to cast some light in the darkness. However, she could not feel even a speck of her holy power in her.

Just when she was ready to lose all hope, her fingers twitched and suddenly, the blackness around her rippled.

The ripple spread outward, distorting the endless black. It looked like water that had been disturbed by a falling stone. It pulsed, slowly, then Arella twitched her fingers again, the only part of her body that she seemed to have some control over. The world around her rippled once more, and Arella sucked in a sharp breath.

Or, at least, she thought she had. There was still no air, no warmth, and no proof that she was alive. Nothing that was tangible and she was used to at the very least. She moved her fingers once more, causing another pulse to ripple outward. This time, it did not fade as quickly as the last one, and instead it lingered, against the suffocating blackness like a heartbeat in the dark.

Arella clenched her jaw, focusing everything she had on that tiny movement. If she could feel her fingers, then she could feel her hands, and if she could feel her hands...

Another ripple burst through the darkness, and this time, she felt the tiniest of sensations along her wrist.

A rush of determination coursed through her, and she grit her teeth, pouring every ounce of her will into her arm, all the way to her arms, forcing some kind of reaction, any reaction at all. It felt like she was dragging herself through thick tar, like something was holding her entire body captive.

However, little by little, the numbness lessened.

First, her wrist.

She twisted it around and around, over itself, feeling the numbness slowly dissipate. Then, she did the same for her forearm, and her elbow. A jolt of sensation shot through her shoulder, and suddenly, she could move her arm.

Arella gasped, her chest heaving as a strange pressure lifted from her.

It was working.

She was not trapped anymore.

She curled her fingers into a fist, feeling the smooth unfamiliar sensation of the void shift around her skin. Then, with a grunt, she tried to move her other arm, following the same process she had followed for her first arm. This time it responded faster, and a ripple crashed outward, larger this time, more forceful. It sent a strange vibration through the darkness.

Arella did not stop, and she curled her fingers over and over again, as the numbness continued to fade, slipping away like shackles being undone. She focused on her legs, working from her toes, willing her knees to bend, willing her feet to move, the feeling to return.

And it did.

A shudder ran through her body as full sensation slammed back into her at once. It hurt, it burned like fire, and her whole body felt like it was being put through the wringer. A rush of something flooded through her, very much unlike her holy power.

It was not anything she recognized.

Arella gasped, her chest, her muscles, her whole body aching from the sudden rush of feeling.

The darkness around her seemed to stir, as she continued to push that feeling through her, as the burning sensation felt like it was eating her from the inside out. Sweat trickled down her brow, dripping down her chin, and her wings fluttered finally also getting some sensation. The pain was indescribable, and Arella was sure that she was going to be torn apart.

The fire in her veins was relentless, searing through her veins like lava. Arella was sure that it was not holy power. After all, it lacked the warmth of holy power, the radiance she had always known. This was something else entirely. It pulsed inside her, clawing its way through her flesh, sinking itself into the very marrow of her bones.

Arella clenched her teeth, curling her body in on herself, as another violent ripple shook the darkness around her. The darkness around her seemed to crack, as jagged fractures of gold and crimson light cut through the abyss.

Arella struggled, forcing herself to her hands and knees, her muscles trembling from the effort. Sweat dripped down her face, staining the unseen ground beneath her.

Ground?

No. There was no real surface, only the illusion of it beneath her palms.

She sucked in a breath, and forced herself to stand. The motion sent another wave of pain through her, but she endured it, locking her knees, forcing her shaking limbs to obey.

This would have been easier if she had her staff with her. However, with no control over her holy power as she usually did, she was unable to call forth her staff.

Arella stood upright, forcing her whole body, from her muscles to her fingertips, forcing it all to obey, trying all she could to remain standing.

The moment, she was upright, the void around her shifted.

Whispers rang through the windless darkness, slithering around Arella like a living thing. Arella’s breath hitched, and her head snapped up.

A figure stood before her.

No. Not just any figure.

It was her.

A reflection.

But, as much as the reflection was her, it also was not her.

It was all wrong. Where Arella’s skin was golden, and warm, with a rosy hue to her pale cheeks, the paleness of the reflection before her was almost translucent. Black veins pulsed beneath its skin, twisting up its arms and crawling along its throat.

Its wings, if they could be called wings, were just but tattered shadows. They did not look entirely solid, and they shifted and twisted into and out of each other. Her pristine white feathers were gone.

And its eyes. They were bottomless voids, seemingly endless and hollow.

But the most disgusting thing about the reflection was the loss of her halo. There were shattered fragments of the thing that tied her entire self and showed her heritage on the ground around the reflection.

The reflection tilted its head, and its lips pulled back in a smile. It looked almost... amused.

Arella felt nauseated. More whispers crawled through the darkness, their voices layered, overlapping, and impossible to decipher. The weight of their presence pressed against her skin, against her mind, like invisible hands trying to pull her apart.

Then, the reflection took a slow step forward, and though its feet made no sound, the space between them rippled, as if something was being disturbed. Arella swallowed, forcing herself to remain absolutely still, to not recoil even as a sickening chill rolled off of the figure in waves.

"Who are you?" She asked. Her voice came out strained, hoarse, and not as domineering as she wished it to. She did not recognize the echo of it in the dark, as if something else spoke along with her. It was layered between her words, beneath her voice.

The reflection’s head tilted further, its hollow eyes narrowing. "you already know who I am." It said, its voice softer, almost tender.

Arella’s breathe quickened, "No." She said firmly, "You are not me. You cannot be me."

The reflection laughed, and the sound crawled down Arella’s spine like ice. It was light, breathy...mocking. Then, it locked eyes with Arella again, "I never said I was." It murmured, spreading its wings. Arella took a step back, then another. She did not mean to, but the reflection creeped her out more than she expected it to.

The reflection noticed, and its smirk widened, "You can feel it, can’t you? The change." It took another step closer, and the darkness curled around it, writhing like something alive, "You can feel it?"

Arella shook her head, denying the words even as something deep inside her recoiled. "No." Her voice was stronger this time, laced with defiance, but the reflection only chuckled.

"You deny it," it mused, taking another slow step forward, "but it _sings_ in your veins, doesn’t it?

The reflection crouched slightly, bending her knees as it came even closer, "You are not as you were, Arella, daughter of Camael."

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