“Are you sure you’re ready to tell her?” twelve-year-old Itzel Bartley asked, her eyebrows furrowed.
Damaris Bartley—born Azrael Agnolla, actually—bit her bottom lip. “Not too sure, but I think I should tell her now.”
In the middle of the sisters’ conversation, their six-year-old cousin, Ava Jones, interrupted their privacy and entered their room, and jumped on their bed.
Azrael groaned. “Ava, stop jumping on my bed!”
Ava pouted. “But I like it here! Your bed is really bouncy!”
“Itzel and I are talking about something important, so just give us a moment.”
Ava leaped down the bed and went out.
“So, I was saying, Damaris…” Itzel hesitated on saying Damaris, but she continued. “I mean, Azrael, you know that mom’ll be surprised.”
Azrael clenched her hands. “I know. And Azrael is a name that suits me, but I feel uncomfortable changing anything about myself.”
Itzel gave her a light smile. She hugged her for a moment and said, “I think you should tell her, though. This secret has been kept for long enough.” She left the room quietly.
Azrael fell down on her bed and spread her arms. She frowned.
She had a hazy memory of a time… a time unexplainable, she didn’t even know when it happened… she just knew… a huge bald guy had told her, “You are the Angel of Death, Azrael Agnolla, and you can kill anyone, anywhere and anyhow you want. Use your power wisely.”
Azrael shut her eyes closed and put an arm on her eyes.
Whatever the matter, she thought, Itzel is right. I have to tell mom about this.
She sat up and went towards the door. She smiled thinking about her family.
Being a part of the Bartley family wasn’t just uncommon, but it was also very difficult. The Bartley family had an unconditional love for music and their manners were something of the early 90s. The parents were strict and you could barely have privacy. "Privacy" was a word which didn't exist in the Bartely's household. But the most noble thing which was in the Bartley family was that they were a joint family. The Jones and Bartleys lived together, which proved that you could never feel lonely. Best of all, they believed in magic and the ancestors really had true supernatural powers.
Azrael opened the door and went down to the main hall, where her mom Amanda, her maternal uncle and aunt were talking.
She approached Amanda. “Hey, mom. I want to talk to you.”
They reached another room and sat.
“What is it, Damaris?” Amanda asked.
“You know that you told me that people in our bloodline have possessed superpowers.”
“Of course. But the Bartleys stopped having superpowers years back.”
Azrael’s heart started to beat louder. “What if… I told you that I have a superpower?”
Amanda chuckled. “I’d be proud and amazed. Do you really have a superpower, though? And what is it?”
Azrael looked down. “You… you wouldn’t like it.”
“I would, Damaris! You’re my daughter, why wouldn’t I? Damaris?” Amanda put her hand on Azrael’s shoulder.
Azrael looked at her mother. “I’m the Angel of Death, mom. I can kill anyone and anyhow I want. And please, don’t call me Damaris. It’s Azrael Agnolla, by the way, my real name.”
Amanda lowered her eyebrows. “Damaris is the name I, your mother, gave you, Damaris. And how can you kill anyone you want?”
“I would just say their name and snap my fingers, with the intention of killing.”
“Hmm…” Amanda sighed. “Interesting.” She stood up and stepped out of the room.
Then she looked back and said, “Leave this, we’ll discuss this later. For now, Damaris…” Amanda coughed. “I mean, Azrael, dinner is ready. Come in the dining room.”




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Hey, everyone! So this is a story I wrote a long time ago, and I thought it had potential, so I rewrote it and decided to share with you sweet people! Tell me what you think. More episodes (rewritten by me) will be coming soon, and even sooner if you like and comment! Have a great day ❤️

© Arshi

#angel #family #friends #fantasy #siblings #mythology #magic #birth #power #death