Greys IV - Chains

Chapter 19 - Into The Dark

The first thing I knew was that I wasn't me. And the second was that I was seeing the world through the eyes of a devil.

Everything felt different, looked different. My viewpoint was from a higher angle, through the eyes of someone taller. Though it normally watched the ground, like the body I was peering from kept its head low, like a slave, a pet, even when it was carrying out a task alone. And whether I knew because I was a part of it, or from the mannerisms, it was apparent to me that it had been broken. When it did look up, it was only to disinterestedly watch the world through lidded eyes. The gait was different too, longer and swifter, smooth, like a predatory animal, some large cat prowling, every movement graceful and fast and deadly. And that's mainly what I saw; death.

When I was in the dream, or the vision, I remembered that I was often there, seeing it, feeling it. But I knew I wouldn't remember when I woke, not usually at least, not enough. Maybe glimpses, a feeling of dread tingling on my skin painfully, something scratching at my mind, a purpose I strained toward. Not that it mattered. I didn't know who the mystery eyes belonged to, one of the Collector's weapons, I was sure, but I never saw enough to know where the body I watched from was or where it was going. It never spoke, never gave any hints, just hunted, killed, then waited, staring out at a wall or door unblinking until I woke. So whether I remembered or not, it was all the same.

I assumed it was a vision, and therefore meant to tell me something, but whatever the message, it was lost in the foggy memories when I woke. But whatever the eyes belonged to, it was not on our side. The targets weren't evil, not fully at least, and though I didn't know them, I knew they were important somehow, chosen for a reason, for some plan. And the accidental spy I watched through wanted to make that plan come to fruition. It craved it, chased it like air to drowning lungs.

The need was desperate and constricting and cold, tightly bound within its chest, but also detached and disjointed, like everything was severed, bits and pieces filling it but nothing connected or connecting. It made the creature feel like it was dead and then reanimated. Maybe that's what things like Ambriel felt after being brought back - filled with the need to do what their master wanted, even as they were still empty, half-alive. Hollow. But Ailech wasn't like that.

I wracked my brain to think of who it could be, who I was watching through, I even wondered if it was Syn, the height was similar maybe, but that made panic well up in me. I told myself it couldn't be him, because he hadn't given his soul to Baraqiel, but then why did he take his body? Or Ailech's brothers'? Regardless of whatever pieces to the puzzle I was missing or how dread and fear grew in me as I watched through the demon's eyes, the body I looked out from was always calm and steady, callous and stoic. Passive.

Except when it was killing, then I felt a frenzy of euphoria and ravenous bloodlust fill the previously empty husk. Savagery so brutal, so thick and deep, so dark, I wondered if it was a Fallen. Was I channeling my mother? Was my father still alive? Had he been kept all of these years and broken by Baraqiel instead of killed, and now he was just another of his weapons? Could Irin be controlled like that? Owned? But my stolen vision never changed to blacks and whites, never Shifted, and that level of submission, the depth of the apathy when it wasn't tearing into a warm body didn't seem to fit how I imagined any Fallen to be.

I even went so far as to wonder if it wasn't a Darkling at all, but a Vampyre or maybe a Red. It was too powerful to be a Human, even a Skia, but I supposed the detached state could be from trading in their beating heart for the taste of blood and immortality. And apparently, Reds could still be bound to Fallen, as Nyx had proven. The gut punch that it could be Jevin hit me once, locking my muscles, my breathe, but something in my mind knew it wasn't him.