Fallen Into Hell: Fallen: Book 2, Layna Snow [the mitten read aloud .TXT] 📗

pain she felt inside. What once was horrible, now felt like an inconvenience.

After they made it out of the cave, into the sun, they parted ways.

There were no goodbyes, and it was probably better that way.

People said that it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all, but Sophie wasn’t so sure.

She was going back to her own life, and would never see them ever again.

If it could, her heart broke a little more.

26

Thanatos didn’t watch Sophia walk away. He didn’t want to watch her leaving them. He would never get to spend time with her again, and it actually hurt. It had been years since he Fell, when his emotions had overtaken him. He had not felt this pain since.

That was why he pushed away emotions.

If he had never felt good, he would not have felt this sharp pain in his chest. It wasn’t from a wound, those healed quickly. This was something else. It was an aching that only emotion could cause.

Thanatos walked to a bunker just outside the caves and moved aside the equipment that the park staff used. Behind that was a hidden door where they kept their important electronic equipment.

Adrian had rigged certain things to work in Hell, but the phone wasn’t one of them.

Since he was out there anyways, he decided it would be ideal to check in with the Hunters.

It would also give him a little time to control himself, to get over the loss that settled in his bones and threatened to swamp him.

Before he could dial though, there was a strange weightless feeling.

His body would not move as it normally would, his mind not working quite right.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t fight this. And that weakness tested the thin restraint that he had over himself.

Then, everything went dark.

A sharp pain brought him back to awareness. His hand strained to get to the knife at his side, only to find the sheath empty.

He never went anywhere without a weapon. It was instinct, and it was a rule when he had been an Angel.

Someone had taken them all.

Thanatos stayed calm, listening to the silence. He was at a disadvantage and he needed all the information that he could get before he acted.

Better that they think that he was unconscious.

He could sense beings around him but he had no idea where they were.

The weight of stares, of expectation and acceptance was overwhelming. It seemed like he was surrounded by thousands, and yet he didn’t feel threatened.

He cracked his eyelids open, just enough to get an idea of where he was, except, there was nothing for him to see in the white blinding light.

“Thanatos. You will rise and greet us properly.” The voice was not in English, or any other singular language. It was a blend of everything, a weird mix that told him where he was.

Only a few beings spoke like that, in that effortlessly commanding voice. They were beings that had once ruled him, and all the Angels. They were their leaders.

Archangels.

It was Michael who spoke, his voice deep and strong. The leader of the Warrior Angels was a hard man, who had always stood for what was right. Thanatos had once respected him, as much as an emotionless being could respect someone.

The Archangel was strong, confident, and demanding. He expected greatness, and would tell the Lord if anyone strayed from the path.

“We have word,” A softer voice spoke to his right. It was calm, deceptively so. Gabriel’s voice.

People often underestimated him, based on his slim figure and seemingly benign attitude

Thane opened his eyes, struggling to control the shaking in his body. His mind felt wrong, as if there was too much pressure inside. It throbbed, messing with his perception, with his ability to think and more.

He had never had a headache before.

“I cannot heal you.” The third and final Archangel, Raphael, spoke. His voice was like bells. Light, musical and enchanting.

Thanatos looked around, eyeing each of the Angels who had once stood before him, just like this, and decided his fate. They looked the same, their pants made of a white material so soft that it felt like nothing against the skin. Their chests were bare and their snow white wings stood proudly from their backs.

They looked the same, objectively. But Thane now noticed things that he hadn’t before. Tiny differences between the Archangels themselves and the rest of the Heavenly Warriors.

They held themselves differently. Muscles tightened, fists clenched. Emotion in their eyes.

They were not created like other Angels.

It was the same place. These were the same Angels, but his new emotions gave him insight that he hadn’t before.

The walls in the honeycomb-like structure were white, the floor a soft carpet. Angels stood in the small slightly open rooms, judging the different lights in front of them. Some were bright, while others floated in a darkness that was difficult to ignore. These souls would be sentenced to eternal happiness or be damned to a place in Hell that even he had not seen.

The activities were the same, but instead of the serenity he had felt before, he felt confused. Instead of the understanding that this process was perfect, he now felt disillusioned.

Some of these souls didn’t have the option of purity. They had to act in despicable ways in order to survive. Hadn’t Sophia recently made a deal with the Devil in order to save someone she loved? It was both good and evil at once. How would her soul look? How would she be judged?

The thought caused a piercing sensation in his chest, as if it was being sliced open. He didn’t look down, though, he knew that there was no wound.

She can’t die.

“Enough, Thanatos. There is no room for