Mia's Dreams by Angelica Twilight

The darkness gave way to bright clouds that disappeared in a blinding light until a man who looked so perfect and incomprehensibly divine stood leaning against the side of a door to an empty room with white tile floors, walls, pillars, and ceiling.  He called an angel, another angel, to him.  “ Lailiah !” The angel appeared, her light blonde hair flowing down her back and her blue eyes sparkling. She was truly beautiful.
    “Michael,” she said warmly and bowed, smiling up at him.
    Michael gestured inside the room and she slid in, her hands in the pockets of her white robe. He closed the door and turned to face her; his expression was grim.
    Lailiah immediately noticed the difference in his demeanor and her smile disappeared. “What’s wrong? Did something else happen down there?”
    Michael nod ded, “We’ve gotten wind of the F allen’s plan. They seek to bring Asmodeus back to the waking world; to give him the power to walk Creation again.”
    She breathed in sharply and then stood tall and stra ight. “What would you have me do?”
    “We need someone I trust. Someone He trusts. Malachi is our hope, he and seven others. You will need to gather them, to teach them. You can...” He paused, and the sound of music, ethereal and soft, wafted slowly over the room. “You can teach and guide, but you cannot participate in the battle.”  He stared at her before adding, “This is no command, Lailiah .  You are by no means bound to do this.”
    “I’ll do it,” she said firmly, hair crackling with the power in her voice.
    The voice still echoes as the room and the white dissolved into a fury of swirling red and black.  Screams echoed from…it was a swirling void.  The screams were loud and then faint, but there was nowhere from which the echoes could come.  Nonetheless, the piercing cries repeated.  Visions of blood faded into view and then out, an old man with a slashed throat…Petyr broken on the side of the road, crushed by the car…children tortured…the knife—a vicious looking flat slab of metal—descending over and over into her chest, into Mia’s chest. 
    And then, it was a face.  A cruel and twisted face with a strange sadness behind the eyes.  The face remained impassive even as the blade fell again and again and blood splashed upward on its cheeks, mouth, and nose.  Mia knew the face.  It was Damien Croft.
     
    “Mia! Mia, Sweetie, wake up. Wake up!”
    I would have been content to stay in bed for hours, but a rough shake made my eyes fly open and I bolted up in my bed.  I felt wet and sticky and realized that sweat covered my body completely. My heart was racing, too. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself, inhaling raggedly.  Then, I heard Petyr’s soothing words in my ear, and his calming hands were on my back.  Slowly, I managed to calm down and I leaned back against him, exhausted.
    “It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing my cheek and pulling me to his chest. He gently ran his fingers through my hair, his brows creased and his eyes filled with concern.  Again the strange wondrous amazement that he could even touch me filled me, almost driving away the memories of the nightmare, but there was no chance it would disappear completely.  “The same?” he asked his mouth close to my ear.
    I nodded and tried to smile. I don’t know—maybe I thought making it a joke would make it easier to handle.  “The same one; with him chasing me and then…” I drew my finger over my throat and blinked my eyes open. I couldn’t keep up the charade and my smile disappeared.  My world was so damned strange now.  It was just a dream, and maybe I wouldn’t have thought about it much six months or so ago; but six months ago my boyfriend wasn’t dead.
    Petyr bit his lip and pushed some of my hair from my face. “You know that I won’t let that happen, Mia. You have to believe me about this, okay?” he asked earnestly.  I looked at him a bit questioningly.  I guess it