Story Inspired by Cassandra Clare

My favourite author is Cassandra Clare, who wrote the Mortal Instruments series as well as the Infernal Devices, so I decided to write a short story inspired by the themes present in Clare’s works.

Cassandra Clare I handed this story in as an assignment for my Enriched English course, in which the instructions were to write about the end of the world. My teacher also mentioned that she does not want to read a dozen stories on the zombie apocalypse, so mine is about a demon apocalypse. Hope you enjoy! 🙂

 

 

 

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Left out in the cold

When the Angel Gabriel looked down on Earth, he saw the inside of the old Hillside’s Church. Which was gritted with a coat of dust on just about everything and was peacefully silent, until Isabella burst through the door. She was out of breath and covered with dirt, rain and blood, which dripped off her clothes making an instant puddle around her black boots. She took a deep breath and started to walk down the aisle with shaky legs, only to find herself crumbling to the floor overtaken by gruesome sobs.

The doors of the old Hillside’s Church was in sight now through the rain, I judged about a 100m run until I can get to safety. Pushing myself faster, I began to kick up mud that sprayed up to my face. The grass was slippery and hard to stay on, even with my slightly spiked boots.

I was almost at the Church gates, when my foot caught on something making me plunge toward the ground. Right when I hit the ground, I turned my body and started to roll to better spread the impact and not slow myself down. But, my rolling was stopped abruptly. When I looked over, I saw a pale boy’s dead face right beside me, staring at nothing. Henry!

I gasped, crawling backwards rapidly away from the body and put my hand down on something sickly cold and wet. Daring to glance down, I let out a scream recognizing it to be a hand, severed from the wrist.

Jumping up, I began slowly towards the boy who had started to get up.

“Oh no. Please, Lord, no.” I whispered to myself, while taking out an iron blade from the holster.

“Henry? Are you still in there?” I asked shakily, even though I didn’t expect the answer I wanted.

Henry’s head shot up unnaturally, revealing shiny black eyes. Before he had time to respond, I jumped on him screaming and stabbed him in the heart with the cold iron blade. I watched his eyes go from a soulless black to a hazel brown.

“…Isabella..” Henry’s voice was painfully weak and his eyes kept rolling, not focusing on anything.

“Henry, I’m so sorry..” I whispered in his ear, then kissed his moist forehead for the last time before yanking the blade out of his chest. The rain kept on my face like a dozen tears, but none of them were mine. “I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”

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