Ruined (The Seraphim Series Book 1)

by Sophia Stafford

  She was sure he hadn’t finished, but she couldn’t hear anything. She could see his mouth moving, but nothing was coming out. She had lost her hearing, she realised. Her body was still moving of its own accord, the pain still building.

  “You want to remember who you are? Then break down the walls separating you from it,” the voice hissed into the silence.

  What walls? She wanted to scream. As quickly as it had started, her body stopped thrashing. She lay motionless on the stones, the unbearable pain still inside of her with no way of releasing it.

  Her head fell to the side. She could see Azrael looking at her. The pain she was feeling was written all over his face. He was shouting something at her, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. She watched as he ran towards her, but he was thrown back, into a wall. As quick as he was down he was back on his feet and trying again, only to get knocked back a second time. He couldn't get to her. Slowly, her body was lifted off the stone. She was hanging in mid-air as far as the ropes would allow.

  Please let this stop. She silently sobbed. She'd break down any wall. She’d do anything to make the pain stop.

  “Fight through the pain,” the voice hissed again. The burning in her stomach intensified. Everything was going dark. She was losing her sight. Panicking, her eyes darted around the room and landed on Azrael. His worried eyes were the last thing she saw before everything went black.

  She wasn’t sure how long she had been in the darkness. It could have been minutes or hours, she didn’t know. She just knew her body couldn’t take much more of the pain.

  “Dig deeper and remember. Walk through the fires.”

  Who are you? she screamed in her head. Could it hear her? The voices were in her head, so she guessed yes. What fires? What wall? she screamed again, needing a way to vent her pain.

  “You know who I am.” Red eyes appeared in front of her in the dark, the same red eyes that quite possibly belonged to Lucifer.

  She tried to scream, she tried to move away, but she couldn’t. She was being dragged away from the darkness, pulled back to life. The red eyes were still staring at her.

  “Lilliah, can you hear me?” She recognised the voice. It was Benedict's, but she still couldn’t see him.

  “Get her out of this, Benedict! What the hell's wrong with her?” Azrael’s voice was close, and he was angry, angrier than she had ever heard him.

  Azrael, I’m trying to get to you! She wanted to scream, but it was useless. He couldn’t hear her.

  “You promised she'd be okay! You promised me nothing would happen to her!”

  “I don't know what’s wrong, Azrael! I'm trying,” she could hear Benedict plead before he started muttering words she couldn’t understand.

  “Well, try harder,” Azrael hissed back.

  The red eyes were getting farther and farther away as she was dragged towards the light and back to Azrael.

  “No!” the voice seethed, getting closer and closer as it ran towards her, colliding just as she was pulled out of the dark.

  Azrael held Lilliah in his arms. Her limp body was no longer floating in the air, but she still wasn’t awake and she still wasn’t responding.

  “Why isn’t she awake?” Benedict stood close by, his eyes tired from all the magic he had just used.

  “Give her time, Azrael. We don't know what she's been through.” It was Ada who spoke first, nervously stepping forward. The other members of The Cure were all milling around, unsure of what to do or say, and not wanting to say anything to piss Azrael off any more than he already was.

  “This is your fault!”

  Ada stopped, standing taller as Azrael broke the ropes and stood, Lilliah still in his arms.

  “If she doesn’t wake up from this, no amount of magic will save you. I'll hunt every single one of you down and kill you all.”

  “Azrael, please. She'll be fine,” Ada tried hesitantly to reassure him.

  “Azrael, look. She's stirring,” Benedict cut in, realising how close Azrael was to killing everyone in the room.

  “Lilliah.” Azrael tried setting her down on the floor. “Get me something to put under her head!”

  “Here, take my cape,” Benedict offered, kneeling down beside them.

  “Lilliah, can you hear me?”

  “She's walking through the fire.”

  Azrael frowned, moving her hair away from her face. “Angel?”

  “She's walking through the fires.” A deep voice laughed.

  “Move away from her,” Benedict commanded, slowly backing away. “Ada, come here now!”

  “No.” Azrael leant closer. “Lilliah, angel, open your eyes. Please.”

  “Your Lilliah isn’t here anymore. She’s walking through the fires.” Her eyes shot open. Blood-red orbs stared back at him.

  “What does that mean? What have you done with Lilliah?” he demanded, moving away as he stared into the stranger’s eyes.

  “I’ve told you. She's walking through the fires. Of course you wouldn’t know anything about the burn of Hell, would you, Azrael?” Slowly it stood up, its movements rigid and jerky.

  “Lucifer?” he whispered, still on his knees. It couldn’t be. “This isn’t possible.”

  “I'm glad you remember your place, Azrael. I know you've been here pretending to be a god while I’ve been burning,” he spat, scanning the room. Lilliah's blonde hair swayed behind him. “So this is the mighty Cure. The scum that seems to be basking in our shadow!”

  “Bring her back to me.” Slowly, Azrael stood, his hands fisting.

  “She'll be here when she's good and ready. Don't you worry about that.” Half the members of The Cure were frozen with fear, while the other half were trying to make their way to the door. Even Ada had been slowly backing away. Everyone apart from Benedict was slowly backing away; he was heading for the top of the altar. Azrael saw him grab Ada’s arm, stopping her from escaping.

  “Where is she?” Azrael demanded again, turning back to Lucifer.

  “You really have been a god among mortals, haven’t you, Azrael? And Michael’s daughter? Tut-tut.” Azrael could see Benedict whispering in Ada's ear. He had a plan.

  “What do you want with Lilliah?”

  “What do you want with little Lilliah is the question?” He laughed. “Do you really think Michael will let you back in? After you've spent years planning to kill the apple of his eye? Come on now, Azrael. You’re smarter than that.”

  “Lucifer, release Lilliah now.” Benedict stepped forward, with a very shaky Ada following.

  “What is that?” Lucifer laughed, gesturing to Benedict. “You’re a warlock? Azrael, Azrael. You really have fallen, in more ways than one.”

  “I’m warning you, Lucifer. Leave before I make you.”

  “Before you make me? And what exactly are you going to do to me, warlock? Your magic won’t work on me.”

  “Benedict. What are you doing?” Azrael hissed. They both knew he was no match for Lucifer.

  “Lucifer, leave her body or we will remove you from it.”

  “You'll remove me, will you? Please. You and your breed are nothing but mortals with a party trick. So please, do your worst.” Lucifer laughed, holding his arms out. “But try not to damage little Lilliah.”

  “The Creator made you. The Creator will save you. I bless this holy ground that you walk on.”

  ”I'm not sure what you've heard about me, Benedict,” Lucifer cut in, smiling, “but praying won’t save you now.”

  Lucifer's wicked smile looked so foreign on Lilliah's face. Azrael just watched, unable to do anything. He watched Ada walk round Benedict, holding a large stone in her hand as she started a spell Azrael didn’t understand. She spoke clearly and strongly, but he could tell she was afraid. The foreign words rang around the hollow room, mixing with Benedict's prayer. The other members of The Cure had escaped, scattering like ants. The first glimpse of light started in Lilliah's stomach, dull at first but getting stronger and brighter. Encouraged, Benedict steppe
d closer, flicking some liquid at her.

  “This is not possible. What is this magic?” Lucifer demanded, trying to claw at the now piercing light shining through Lilliah. “Your magic does not work on me!”

  “Benedict. Do not hurt Lilliah!”

  Benedict's eyes briefly flicked to Azrael before focusing fully on Lucifer, who was in front of him. Another ray of light shone through her chest, then another through each hand.

  “You can get rid of me, but I’ll be back, and it doesn’t mean your little Lilliah will come back to you.” He laughed, examining his hands almost in wonder. “She's walking through the fires.”

  “What does that mean?” Azrael shot back, panicked by the sudden rays of light that were almost entirely covering Lilliah's body. He wasn’t in the mood for games. “Tell me! Where is she?”

  “Well. I guess now you'll never know,” he taunted.

  Azrael watched powerlessly as Lilliah's body was lifted into the air, red eyes disappearing as her head fell back.

  “No!” Azrael shouted, running closer. “Benedict. Stop! It’s Lilliah. Stop!”

  The lights inside Lilliah shone brighter and brighter. Benedict and Ada had been drawn into the magic, making it impossible for them to hear Azrael as he desperately begged for them to stop. Lilliah was now completely glowing, her golden hair floating around her face.

  “Lilliah!” Azrael screamed, reaching out for her, trying to grab her arm but getting thrown back. He landed hard on the stone floor. The room was consumed with light, Lilliah at its centre.

  “No!” he screamed, trying to stand, but something was holding him down. Some sort of very powerful magic was stopping him from moving. The room exploded, the fire and force throwing Azrael, Ada, and Benedict against the walls. Rubble and smoke filled the room as though the walls and roof of Hell had fallen around them.

  “Lilliah?” Azrael choked out, trying to stand up. He couldn’t see her. He couldn’t see anything but the smoke. It was different than the other smoke that had appeared earlier. This smoke filled his lungs and burned his throat and nose.

  “Azrael. What happened?” Ada's voice asked from somewhere in the smoke. He could hear her coughing.

  “You blew her up!” Azrael shouted desperately, walking forward and waving at the smoke with his hands.

  Lilliah was lying on the floor, completely unharmed, her beautiful long hair spread out around her.

  “Lilliah, my angel, can you hear me? Sweetheart?” he asked. Gently kneeling beside her, he carefully pulled her into his arms. When she didn’t respond, he shook her body, but she didn’t wake up or murmur.

  “Benedict! I need you!”

  He could hear his friend before he saw him. Benedict staggered towards him, coughing and tripping on bits of rubble. His clothes were ripped and dirty.

  “What did you do to her?”

  “I don't know. I just . . .” he stammered, falling to his knees. “I didn’t know what to do.” He ran his hand over her forehead. “She's alive.”

  “Why isn’t she waking up?”

  “I don't know what Lucifer did to her. I don't know where she is. But she'll come back.”

  Azrael looked up at his friend. Benedict kept his head down, focusing on Lilliah and refusing to meet his gaze. “She better.”

  Benedict nodded, letting him know he had heard. He didn’t need to see Azrael’s face to know it was a threat. He had heard it loud and clear.

  Chapter 21

  Lilliah scrunched her eyes shut. The brightness was too much. Turning, she tried to cover her face. She reached for the quilt, but it wasn’t there. Slowly opening her eyes, she stared up at a completely white ceiling. She shot up as the memories flew back to her—Azrael, the spell, Lucifer, his red eyes coming towards her before everything went dark. Was she dead? She slowly stood, rubbing off bits of rubble and dirt from her black top, but there was nothing around her. No dirt, no rubble, no walls! Nothing. There was nothing around her, just whiteness. She was still wearing the same clothes as earlier. What had happened?

  “Hello!” she shouted, her voice echoing back at her. “Where am I?” she shouted again, getting desperate. Was this one of Lucifer’s tricks? Was this what he was talking about when he’d said: “walk through the fires”?

  “Azrael!” she screamed at nothing, panicked and desperate. Everything started to spin, knocking her to the floor. The spinning was getting faster and faster. “Help!” she screamed, curling herself into a ball and squeezing her eyes shut.

  “Lilliah, please drink something.” The voice came before the spinning had stopped, but Lilliah’s eyes still shot open, half expecting to see a woman talking to her. Instead, she was on the floor in a room, and the woman wasn’t talking to her; she wasn’t even looking at her.

  “I want to see my father.” Lilliah stood, startled by the voice. It was hers. She was sitting on a large, four-poster bed, surrounded by dresses that had been laid out. Her hair was up, neatly piled on top of her head and covered by a simple net.

  “What the hell?” she said the words out loud but no one looked at her. “Hello? Can you hear me?” she tried again, moving to wave her hand in front of the woman's face. No, nothing. She was invisible.

  “Lilliah, you know your father will not be pleased,” the woman gently chastised, picking up one of the dresses. “What about this dress? You look beautiful in blue.”

  “Get my mother. I want to speak to someone,” Lilliah heard herself demand, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don't want to marry him. I can't marry him.”

  This is another life, Lilliah realised, taking a seat on the bed and watching herself cry. I'm being made to marry someone I don’t love. This is horrible. This is a horrible life.

  “Marriages are not made for love, my sweet.” The woman sighed. “He will have a mistress and leave you mostly alone.”

  “But what If I don't want that?” Lilliah could hear the hysterics starting to creep into her own voice. “What if I want more? What if I want love?”

  Lilliah wanted to clap for herself and yell that she agreed, that she deserved love. She wanted to pump her fist in the air, but she didn’t. There was no point. No one could hear or see her.

  “You need to pull yourself together, my girl.”

  “Please, Maggie. Don't make me marry him.” She was full-on sobbing, her body shaking with tears.

  “Oh, my dear. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t.” The older woman tried to soothe her while cupping Lilliah's face in her hands. “I love you like you were my own.”

  “You’re more of a mother to me than that woman has ever been!” Lilliah shrieked, pointing at the door.

  “You must not say such things. Your mother and father love you so much. You are so blessed.”

  “They feel nothing for me! All they care about is marrying me off to a man twice my age!”

  Lilliah watched herself cry helplessly.

  “You are lucky to be betrothed to someone such as the duke, and that he has taken an interest in you! God has blessed you with this face. Be thankful for that, my dear. He's wealthy and you will be taken care of.”

  “I want to be more than taken care of! I want to be loved and cherished.”

  Aw, I feel so sorry for me. Lilliah sighed, trying to pat herself on the shoulder, but her hand fell straight through. “Oh, great. I can’t even touch people. This day is just getting better and better,” she said out loud.

  “Magdalene. I want a word with my daughter.” Lilliah turned to see a woman standing in the doorway, her cream dress flaring out at the waist and filling the doorway.

  “Of course, milady.” Magdalene scurried out of the room, her head bent.

  “Mother.” Lilliah watched herself stand, the tears on her face unmistakable. “I was just trying to find something to wear.”

  “Do not lie to me, Lilliah. I heard it all, everything you’ve said.” The awkward silence stretched as the woman walked farther into the room, her cold eyes fixed on Lilliah as she approach
ed her.

  “She called me Lilliah.” She smiled a little. “Guess it wasn’t just my body that was reincarnated.”

  “You are an ungrateful little girl.” The slap echoed around the room. Lilliah flinched as she watched herself fall to the floor, her own face stinging and knocking her down.

  “Oh, my God. This is a horrible life!” Lilliah shrieked, standing. There wasn’t anything she could do. She had to watch. “Why couldn’t Azrael have found me here? Why couldn’t I have been rescued from this life?”

  “Clean yourself up. We have guests.” The mother walked out of the room, clearly unmoved by her daughter’s crying, leaving her on the floor completely defeated.

  “No, Mother. I will not live this life.” Lilliah watched herself crawl to a nearby desk. “I will not continue in this life anymore.”

  “Fuck.” Lilliah watched herself grab a knife out of one of the drawers. She watched her shaky hands hold it over her stomach. “Oh, please no. This can't be happening. Why am I doing this?”

  “Please Lord. I cannot live like this anymore. Please forgive me.” Lilliah watched herself recite the Lord’s Prayer, the tears still streaming down her face. “I'm sorry, Lord.” She plunged the knife into her stomach, once and then again.

  Lilliah dropped on the floor as well, as if the knife had been stabbed into her own stomach. She screamed in anguish, clutching herself. There was no blood but the pain was real.

  “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” The words repeated in her head over and over as she lay on the floor next to herself, feeling the life slowly leave her body. The room fell silent. And everything went dark again.

  Lilliah woke up in white again, just like the first time. Her hands shot to her stomach. The pain was gone. What the hell just happened? She sat on the floor, running her hands through her hair, annoyed, nervous, and on edge. What is happening to me? What good is any of this? Am I right? Was that an old life? She hoped not. It really was awful. The room began to spin again.

  “No.” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut tight. “Please not this again.”