Azrael Supernatural Novels & Stories

Azrael's hand falls from his chest, and he chuckles, pleased. Oh lord, now I understand why I gave Cree a freaking migraine. Azrael’s glowing silver eyes take me in as he licks his pale lips. Fuck, is he really going to eat me? He inches closer, and my legs instantly move backward. “What the fuck do you want?” The silver disappears from his eyes, and they fill with darkness. “The same as your wolf-boy.”

Raphael half-joked. "I know what you mean," I said plainly. "Auzzy," Raphael announced, "how nice of you to come back so soon." Archangel Azrael, the collector of souls for Father— God's helper, appeared onto us. "This could have been precluded." He lifted his red shroud, letting soul particles escape into Raphael's mortar. He then gave Raphael his palm to incise, quickly and painlessly letting his blood drop into the mortar. "I won't do this again," he stated. "No matter how much Father loves us. There has to be some order, brother."

He traveled across Plains and Planets and brought good tidings to its inhabitants oftentimes helping in escorting Souls of the Dead across the Black Death River. As a busy Angel, Azrael led a decent lifestyle, adored by many, feared by some. He was friendly and well-suited to his job and the people he served. But even then, Azrael had a tendency to get carried away with his duties; so he made time to go wandering the Unclaimed Grounds. He would often find time to wander into the Silent Grounds to free his Spirits of their many hidden burdens.

He had been quietly watching me all along and only spoke up now that I was dressed. "Azrael has magic blood," I said simply. "What?" He sounded alarmed as though he felt I had said something completely unbelievable. I mean a werewolf can't be able to possess magic blood but Azrael isn't an ordinary werewolf. He is a descendant of great powerful seers and the first-ever wolf known to the clan that glowed on the night of his shifting.

My eyelids try to close with all their might, but I resist and slowly manage to open them, although everything is blurry, I see that I am on the ground, lying. When I close and reopen them, Azael's face appears in front of me, watching me with a frown, with his piercings and his black shirt through which his tattoos peek out and spread across his neck. But when I blink again, there is no sign of him. As if it was part of my imagination.

” Noticing that I haven’t even made an attempt to speak or even move -since I was practically unable to even breathe anymore- she only continued, “Ookaaay, first things first,” “In case you were wondering, the reason why Azrael isn’t a fallen is that he’s...Well let’s just say he’s not your “regular” Archangel like the others, since he’s one of The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and all that shit... And since his grace is practically bound to my soul...Uh...let’s just say that as long as I’m alive, he’s...He will still be his...usual self...” Even though that last sentence left me feeling somewhat confused -mostly by the way she so evasively explained it- I however chose to mainly focus on

His fingers wrap around mine, his grip tight before he yanks me towards him. “Azriel-” “Do not speak another word if you want your soul to be inside that body of yours,” Azriel warns, his voice sounds gravelly, however, the fury in his voice is evident. Instead of walking towards the door that leads to the hall, he tugs me forward in the opposite direction. My heart thunders in my chest as he rounds the building and walks straight towards the forest that now looks nothing but menacing at this time of the evening – inky black and foreboding.

The smoke from the light beam cleared, and for a heartbeat, I thought it was over But then, a low, guttural growl rose from the shadows of the darkened cave. Azrael crawled out of the crater my light had made. His skin was charred and peeling, and one of his massive wings hung limp and broken at his side, but his eyes were glowing with a terrifying, murderous purple flame. He wasn't dead. If anything, the pain had made him faster and more dangerous.

This is a new dawn for Azrael! 🎇 🎇 THE END 🎇 🎇

I thought, hoping the bond would carry the message. The light reached its peak, a pillar of fire that reached the stars, and then... silence. The battlefield was quiet. The dark clouds had vanished, leaving a clear, moonlit sky. Where Dracula and I had been standing, there was only a massive, glass lined crater. Dracula was gone and not even a single drop of his black blood remained. Ariana crawled to the edge of the crater, her hands shaking. There was no body. No Zayn. Only a small, glowing silver stone lying in the center of the pit the last remnant of my heart.