Black Roses

Ok, this is not really a full story, just part of it, but I feel like putting it up. This is not me putting any religions/views down, neither is this what I believe is how miracles happen [sounds weird but you will get I mean later] and seriously, I'm not really sure how I got the idea for this story at all. This is all fiction, and is copyrighted to me, i.e. this is mine do not steal it. That means you Angel.

I did this ages ago btw, like in May xD.
Oh, and the series is called the Nirvana Saints, and although I don't really know the ending, this is the first book of the trilogy.

Prologue, Chapter 1
“I’m sorry. I really am, Luce.” She cried, as she stumbled through the misty depths of the forest.
“I’m sorry I followed you out of our dorms and called you chicken. This is not funny Luce! I mean it! I can’t see a thing.”
She shoved her arms in front of her body and swung them around her like she was a zombie. The cool night wind wrapped around her body, whipping through her hair, finding the gaps in her night dress and diving through them, to her bare skin, and chilling her to the bone.
She felt scared and tired. Why had she followed Lucy out of the dorms into the forest nearby? Why had she felt that she needed to follow her? She wiped cold sweat from her pale face, shivering all the while. She coughed, feeling the sickly-sweet wind blast through her nose, smelling like the taste of cough-drops, of medicine. She felt woozy and nauseous, like someone had filled her head with helium. The trees seemed to whisper, excited, or nervous. The wind screeched like magpies in joy, swirling around her body. Her senses seemed like they had sharpened hundred-fold. She smelled smoke in the distance, from a farmer’s fireplace. She heard the animals with their pattering feet, scurry about the forest. And she saw a shaft of light through the mist. She stepped towards it, her every footstep thudding along with her heart.
Suddenly, a blazing light scorched her eyes. She fell backwards, onto the twisted roots of the trees, onto the soft moss that grew there. A dagger of pain surged through her back, and she yelled, louder than she ever had, like she was a lion being attacked by a whole pack of elephants. Through the inky blackness of pain, she could make out a figure. It was a woman with rippling hair, flowing dress and delicate features. She had wings sprouting from her back, bird wings, pure white, that fluttered gently in the coming wind. She was so beautiful. “What the hell?” she said, her mouth agape. “Who the hell are you?” “Now, now,” said the angel, her voice like honey, too sweet that it was disgusting. The girl could see through the angel’s facade to her soul of malice and wrath. “You wouldn’t say that to friend would you?”
“Lucy? But you, you look nothing like her.” Whispered the girl, more scared than relived. “You don’t sound like her.” “We are the same, but different. We are more perfect, but still the same. And you are our opposite. You are the beginning, we are the end. You are the North, we are South. We are completely opposite.” “I don’t get it. Luce. What are you on about? We are the same; we’re both-““I don’t have time!” yelled the angel suddenly, but in a different voice, a young girl’s voice. “Luce!” yelled the girl. “You’re back!” “I have only a few minutes until she takes over forever, and I’ll be lost. You know what Hope said! One of us will be gone to the side of our enemy. That’s me! I’m, I’m-against you now. I’m not going to be me anymore. She’ll take over, my reverse personality. You have to go back and tell Hope, now go, before I lose control, hurry!” “What, Luce, what are you on about?” the girl said colour draining from her face. “Hope says that one from Our Side goes to the Their Side. That’s me. I’m a traitor. I’m the new Angel of Death.” “Oh God,” said the girl, in a hoarse voice. “Now go,” yelled the angel.”Run!”
So she ran.

Prologue Chapter 2
7 years later, Sifron Temple
“Sister Marie! Come quick!” Marie Lamsuke picked up her robes, and hurried after the dainty young girl running ahead of her into a wide room with a marble floor, stained glass ceilings and high balconies surrounding the room. A woman in a black robe that covered everything apart from her face was kneeling next to a girl in spread eagle position, blood trickling onto the marble floor.
“Annalese!” the dainty young girl screamed, her hands going to her mouth. “This is my fault Sister Marie. We were walking on the upper balcony and I must’ve bumped her and she fell over the edge and oh-” Marie looked at her with piercing grey eyes. “This is not your fault, Beth. It was accident.” She turned to the woman in the black robe. “Sister Alastair, what is the condition of dear Annalese? Is she-” Sister Alastair looked up at Sister Marie. “She is with the Gods, the great Pthinea in their realms, Sister Marie. Do you have the Celestial Jewel?” Sister Marie, gritting her teeth to stop the tears, pulled a gold disk with 10 perfect jewels and set it on Beth’s still heart. She turned to Annalese, who had sunk to her knees, her head in her hands. “Annalese, be brave, it was fated to happen. And we will continue Beth’s legacy, to be kind, caring and to campaign for the ban on whaling. You know we will do that.” She turned to the door. “Sister Alastair, I am going on a walk, and I don’t know when I will be coming back.” “You won’t do anything rash, will you?” came a voice behind her. She ignored it.

She came to a fountain, in the middle of the public courtyard nearby next to the motorway bridge. There was the odd car around, flashing their headlights in the crisp cold night. She unclasped her robe and let her dirty blonde hair flow down her back to her waist. It felt good, being free. Being a Sister meant that she had to wear the robe every time she went in the temple, sometimes for 24 hours at a time. In the latest rituals, a ten-day ceremony, all Gods were prayed to, regardless of their situation or who they were. If a Sister ran out of time to pray to a God, then she would have bad consequences. There were rumours of Death or Insanity that rippled through the temple. She had had but two hours of sleep throughout the last 10 days and felt like a young woman in an old woman’s body. And hadn’t she just prayed to the Goddess of Life a few minutes before the girl had fallen? Shouldn’t the Goddess have saved the girl? Or is it something was wrong with what she had said to her?
The Gods, the almighty Gods that ruled this world, and knew every aspect of it, had failed, so she, Sister Marie had failed. Shouldn’t she have checked on the girls and made sure no-one was to leave? Shouldn’t she have made someone patrol the corridors? Shouldn’t she- It was all her fault. Her fault. One girl. Dead. On her watch. Never to speak again. Sans everything. She was to be blamed. She was to be fired. Insulted. Jeered. Ashamed. To never show her face again. Not until she died. Isolation. Sorrow. Loneliness. Death. She couldn’t take it. It was too much. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. All she did was run. And run. And run. And run. And fall. Wind flowing into her hair. Plunging into the tiny lights of the cars below. She was going to die. Death. Hell. Heaven. Gods. Sans everything. Never to see the temple again. Never to see the girls again. Nev- She gasped. This wasn’t right. She didn’t want to die. Not now. Not yet. The girls needed her. The Sisters needed her. And she was plunging to her death. Her eyes widened. Not now. Please. Not now. Make it stop. The ground was closing in fast. She knew it was wrong. She needed to stop. But she couldn’t. She closed her eyes, preparing for the worst...
It never came. She flopped into someone’s arms, and fainted.

Chapter 1
Marie –we’ll call her this from now- slowly opened her eyes. The whole world seemed to be a blur and every muscle seemed to ache. Was she dead? Of course she was dead, she had just jumped off a bridge, hadn’t she? Didn’t she? She blinked, a figure looming over her. Was that the God of Death himself? No, it can’t have been, voices were above her, child’s voices, arguing with each other.
“Oh hell, I thought I killed her.” Said one deep voice, a male with a British accent.
“Jerry! Language please!” yelled the other voice, a polite female voice with an American accent.
“Ismeira, just grow up.”
“What are talking about? Just because I am 3 months younger than you-“
“And 16 and you don’t swear? Weird.”
“I am not weird! I am just well brought up in good family and taught that those who swear obviously have no brain to say something else so they just yell swear words out of their foul little pie holes.”
“I’m brought up in a bad family Is?”
“No but the way you are going you might as well be the same as those 11 year olds that kiss in public, which is illegal and teens who-“
“What, making out in public is illegal?”
“For children fewer than 16 years old yes.”
“God, half the class’s broken the law.”
“Jerry look, she is awakening!”
“You sound like Starfire with all that proper English.”
“Who is Starfire?”

“Who-who are you people?” Marie muttered. “Aren’t I meant to be-?”
“Dead,” replied the female voice. “Well, yes and no, I mean it is your choice Ms. Lamsuke. That’s what we are here fo-“
“Wait, how do you know my name? I don’t even know you.”
“Well, it is hard to explain, Jerry may you please help Ms. Lamsuke up please? She probably cannot see us, poor Ms. Lamsuke.”
“And why the hell aren’t you doing this?”
“Jerry, language please, we are in the presence of a Sister! You do not use language like that Jerry. I am the one explaining this dilemma to Ms. Lamsuke or would you like to do the talking instead?”
“Yeah yeah Is, seriously, lighten up.”

Two strong arms lifted Marie into sitting position. She blinked again. A pale teenage girl with long dark red-brown hair in a ponytail came into focus. She was wearing a purple turtle-necked t-shirt and shorts with tassels and calf-length boots. The boy was taller than the girl; with dark brown-almost black hair that covered most of his face. Some sort of tattoo in a ‘V’ shape was under his left eye. He wore a dark green jacket with the collar flipped up, and black combat pants. He had a square jaw and an almost hostile look in his eye. The girl beamed at the boy,
“Can you not smile for once Jerry? You are frightening Ms. Lamsuke.”
“Is, on topic. Now.”
She looked at Marie, brushing one of her bangs aside.
“I am sure you are wondering why you are not dead, who we are and how we know you. Now, I believe Ms. Lamsuke, sorry for asking you this, but when you were about to fall, did you at any point, hesitate?”
“Um... well it didn’t really register I think I just-“
“Think clearly Ms. Lamsuke. Did you actually jump by yourself? Or were you pushed?”
“What?”
“Think Ms. Lamsuke.”

Marie was running. Running. To the bridge. At the edge. Ready to jump. Hesitation. Thoughts. But what about the temple? Will they get over me? What about the girls? Or the-? A dull thud at her back. Shock. Fall. Down. Down. Down. Down. Thump into arms. Darkness.

“Ms. Lamsuke? Are you alright? You almost blacked out again. Did you find anything in your recollection?”
“I was-was-hesitating. I was pushed in the back. And fell.”
“Oh good. That is good.”
“What do you mean good? I was nearly killed! I mean if it wasn’t for you-”
“Exactly, Ms. Lamsuke. Now please try to bear with me. This may a tad far-fetched and unbelievable but I promise you, that it is all true Ms. Lamsuke. Jerry, this boy-”
“Man.” Coughed Jerry behind her.
“-Man and I are known as the Nirvana Saints. Do you know anything about us?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, what we do is our leader, the honourable Celeste, chooses, or well predicts people that will die soon of an accident, an unfair death. She then sends us out and we each of the Saints have a million lives and will ask the person whether they want to continue to wherever, or replace their lost life with one of ours. You were pushed to your death, by a person who we are not sure of. This makes your death an accidental death, and eligible to be chosen to be saved. So now, having that considered, we ask you, ‘do you want to go over?’”

I'll finish it later? Like in a year or so? Yeah, prolly.

}Sylvia{