The streets were deserted. Corpses lay on the streets like broken mannequins. The air was thick with blood, just like the heavy, red streams on the streets. The once beautifully structured buildings were in shambles. Their roofs, caved in, bricks decorated the inside, destroying the interior of the building. The hand-painted was now hanged torn skin from thrown individuals. Some weren't as lucky.

A man in his late thirties hanged from his eye socket, speared by a fence. His eyes gazed at my living self. His mouth was open, the words of help never left his tongue. To my left, a business women in her early forties stared at the dark sky with dead eyes, impaled by a lamp post through her midsection. Both bodies slowly dripped away the remaining fluids of their once-live bodies.

I stared at the destruction of the street. The moonlight cast haunting shadows, covering the dead in thick shadows and plaguing the minds of the weak. I pressed my body against Patch's, seeking comfort from the reality of this nightmare.

He lowered his eyes to mine. He must have seen the panic from my eyes as he gathered me into his arms. His warmth spread all over my body, comforting and protecting me from the shadows that move among us.

"Shh," he hushed, "everything's going to be alright. I won't let anything happen to the both of you." Patch gently stroked my back, shedding my fears with every swipe of his hand. My shivers slowly halted in Patch's embrace.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaving no space between us. I turned my head to the side, resting my ear on his chest.

We have left the sanctuary of the church, trading comfort for safety. The church was protected by angelic markings, kept anew by the people who took care of the church. Since the attack on the square, the people have abandoned the church, probably hoping to spend the last moments with their families.

Once we stepped off the grounds of the church, the magnificent structure crumbled into ash. According to Michael, the church has been standing for thousands of years. The church preyed on the prayers of the people. It was the only thing that kept it alive to this day.

The plan was to head back to the house, but encountering the destruction on the streets makes me wonder if we'll make it.

"We need to keep moving." Patch's grip remained secure on my waist as he turned his attention to Michael. "If we linger here any longer, we'll be discovered."

Patch remained silent, weighing his options. His cryptic eyes surveyed the street, sweeping across the layers of bodies thrown on the deserted pathway. The blood of the foul things from the square, now dry, acted as a second skin. Patch never tried wiping the blood off, nor even notice it. He walked around as if this was a normal part of life. The gash on his shoulder stopped oozing blood, slowly closing the missing chunk of his shoulder. I reached my hand out to rub the skin, hoping to encourage his body to heal faster. Patch hissed.

"You should wrap this before it gets infected."

"I'll be alright, Angel. I've done this a thousand times before."

I ran my fingers gently where his skin parted. "I don't like seeing you hurt."

"It's better that me than you." His arms loosened as he placed his palm on our growing baby. "This is nothing compared to the fear of losing you and this baby." He tone was quiet, secret words only for my understanding.

Patch lowered his head to my level before making contact with mine. I directed my eyes to him. "Are we going to be alright?"

Patch remained silent, every turn of the clock weighed on my heart. "I honestly don't know, Angel." I gripped onto his shoulders on my realization. This nightmare is exactly like the war. Everything was flowed like flowing water, it continued to change. Nothing was etched into stone. And just like that time before, no one the outcome. It teetered to either side, but never long enough for a clear vision of the end.

Tears blurred my vision as reality hit me. We got lucky the first time, but miracles don't happen a second time. "Nora. Look at me. Nora." I followed. Even when Earth is blocked from the moonlight, surrounded by darkness, Patch's eyes remained the black turmoil of darkness. "I can't promise you that nothing will happen, but I promise you that I will protect you from anything or anyone that has any means to harm you or this baby. I can assure you that much." Patch, lovingly, kissed my tears away. "I love you."

"I love you, too." I giggled softly. "Look, your lips are wet."

Patch broke into a smile. "Angel, I love you, but this is not the place or time."

I pouted. "That's not what meant." I pulled him down to give him a kiss, but he pulled away. "I want a kiss."

"I would love that, but I'm covered in blood."

If this nightmare continues further, I better get used to the fact that Patch won't always be so clean. I raised myself on my tiptoes and quickly pecked him on the lips before he could pull away. "I still want my kiss."

"I married a crazy woman." I smiled at him as he gladly returned the favor.

"Yo, Romeo and Juliette, now is not the time to rip each other's clothes off. And besides, we're in the middle of a death scene."

Lady Boner Killer.

"Jev," we turned to Michael, "if we stay here any longer, we'll be found."

"We need to find shelter," Kael suggested. "The dry blood on our bodies will attract the demons."

"And we need to disinfect the wound of yours," Josiah pointed to Patch's shoulder.

"I'm fine. The most important thing is getting back to the house safely." Patch's words launched an argument among the men.

"Jev, if we don't find cover soon, a spotter will see us." Ezekiel.

"The night attracts these abominations,. As the moon rises, the more demons we will encounter." Kael.

"The more we spend outside, the more chance they find out about the baby." Michael.

"We're exhausted, Jev. We can't go on like this." Josiah.

"We'll drop dead." Kael concurred. As the men shot accusations at each other, their voices grew louder by the second. The shadows stirred like warning signs of impending doom. The men started to shout. Every sound and movement sent ripples down my spine.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement behind the disposal bin behind us. This shouting was only attracting attention, dangerous attention.

"Stop," I said. The men's voice hollered over mine. I raised my voice, "Stop!" The men stiffened and turned to my direction with angered eyes. "You can scream at each other another time," I jerked my head behind us and lowered my voice, "we have company."

Before realizing, with swift movement, Patch placed his body in front of mine. With Patch's large frame blocking my view, I peeked through the crevice between Patch's arm and torso.

Patch and the men watched as the shadow's eyes gleamed a deathly glow. The shadowed figure cautiously took steps forward, but remained under the blanket of darkness. The movement of the figure's body hinted male. Once he was at the edge of where the moon light met the shadows, two figures joined him. One male, the other female. The trio reminded me of the monsters on the square, demonic and inhuman.

But then again, Patch and the men didn't look any different.

Josiah was the first to speak, " Step into the light." Michael, Ezekiel, and Josiah held luminescent swords, sending ghoulish shadows in their faces, but their eyes remained hidden. Kael unsheathed two-double edged swords and handed one to Patch.

The last time I saw Patch holding a sword, it was wooden. Having him wielding a real sword cast out all hope of having a baby in a world of peace.

"Step into the light. This is your last warning." Josiah repeated. The figures stood in the darkness, ignoring our orders. Their eyes gleamed under the sheet of darkness as they sized us up. The men lowered their stances, bending at the knee before charging towards the men and woman.

In a blink of an eye, the figures unsheathed their own weapons. The woman pulled two daggers from the holsters attached to her thighs. The man in the back produced a bow, but no arrows. Once he pulled the string back, a ghoulish blue arrow appeared. The man that stood in the middle unsheathed a similar sword that Kael and Patch wield.

In slow motion, I watched as the two groups clashed. It was five against three. We had the upper hand in number, but skill, we were equals. Josiah and Ezekiel fought against the woman with the two daggers. With two opponents, she held her own. She would kick either Ezekiel or Josiah before attacking the one standing. Her eyes were flared with determination as she attacked the two. Michael and Kael went after the archer, deflecting the air-made arrows with their swords. Cautiously, Michael and Kael stepped closer to the archer, but once the archer thought they were too close, he launched an ethereal red arrow at their feet. Both Michael and Kael were pulled back like puppets on a string. Rubble flew in the air, dust floated to the ground, and the sound of metal hitting metal echoed into the night. To my left, Patch fought the middle man alone.

The middle man led Patch into the darkness, coating the enemies advances in secrecy. Both their swords glowed an ethereal white light, but not enough light to reveal the other's identity. They clashed swords. Patch and the mystery man were in a battle of strength. Although the shade blanketed their figures, I could see the veins of their muscle bulge.

Both men were extremely talented in close combat warfare. They glided with agility, throwing punches and slicing the air. The middle man was more flexible than Patch. A smaller build, yet muscular. As if in a dance, he dodged and kicked in Patch's weakness spots, but Patch had his own tricks up his sleeve. He made openings on purpose.

The middle man went to jab for Patch's open abdomen, but was stopped short by a punch to the face. The middle man was delirious, he tried pushing himself up the wall, but Patch kicked him back to the ground. Patch raised his sword until it rest upon the middle man's jugular vein while in the process of kicking the middle man's sword away.

The intruder's leader was at the mercy of Patch. The archer and the woman froze in their place. Michael and the men shoved the man and woman to the ground, kicking their weapons to the side. Michael held his sword in front of the archer's throat in a headlock position. The woman was forced onto her knees. "If you kill him, hell will rain." The woman was the first to speak.

"Funny, because you're the one at the mercy of our swords." Ezekiel pushed his sword to the woman's neck, creating a slight incision that drew blood. The woman retaliated, spiting in Ezekiel's face.

Ezekiel's grip tightened around the grip of his sword. His eyes gleamed murder. Ezekiel raised his sword to cut the woman's head off, but a voice intervened. "Ezekiel, killing them does nothing for us. We need information." Michael's voice ordered Ezekiel.

Ezekiel still held his sword in mid air. He had no intention of dropping his sword. "Ezekiel!" Michael yelled once more. Ezekiel eyes hardened.

"Drop the sword, Ezekiel." Patch said, calmly. "This is not the time to lose control." Ezekiel made eye contact with Patch. "Drop the sword." Patch ordered once more.

It took a few moments of silence before Ezekiel huffed and dropped his arm to the ground. "Wait," the archer spoke, "Michael and Ezekiel?"

Michael's sword deepened into the neck of the archer. "What of it?"

The archer's eyes widened. "It's us. It's Dolvin, Michael. It's Basso, Caelina, and I."

"Basso?" I said, softly. What's he doing down here? All eyes turned to me. "The Policeman Basso?"

"Nora?" The man underneath Patch's sword spoke. He looked me up and down before turning his attention to Patch. "Jev? Is that you?"

The men and I were confused. Patch removed the hilt on his sword from Basso's jugular, and raised it to Basso's eyes. The luminescent light illuminated Basso's face. Ezekiel groaned. "Man, I was hoping to get my first kill today."

I raised my eyebrows. "You didn't get to kill any at the square?"

"No," Ezekiel spit out, "Jev and Michael hogged all the fun to themselves." In the distance, I saw Michael roll his eyes. Patch dropped his sword and came towards me. He wrapped his arms around me, placing a kiss on my forehead. "You okay?" I nodded my head.

"You?"

"Not even a scratch." In the background, I heard Michael and the men release Basso, Caelina, and Dolvin. Patch watched the interaction behind him. His eyes turned calculating. I rubbed his chest as I waited for his decision. Where are we going to go now? What are we going to do with Basso and the others? Is there still a chance that we can make get to the house alive? I placed my head on Patch's chest, contemplating whether this was a waste of time. " What are we going to go now?" Josiah asked.

Michael and Patch made eye contact, their eyes glazed over. They must be communicating. "There's only one choice," Michael explained.

Patch nodded. "We have to find shelter. Our ruckus must have attracted unwanted attention."

All the men nodded their heads in agreement. "Josiah, go find a place for us to stay for the night. Kael, go with him." Patch turned to Basso. "Basso, you and the woman will look for food and medical supplies."

"Jev, you take the roof, Dolvin and I will stay here with Nora and Vee." Patch was about to protest, but thought better of it. Emotions on the battlefield are dangerous. Patch breathed out a frustrated sigh before untangling himself from me.

"You stay with them." I nodded. Kissing me on the lips, he strode towards Michael and whispered in his ear. It was so soft, I didn't hear a word of the conversation. Once Patch was finished, Michael nodded, as if a promise. And then Patch was gone.

It took half an hour until Josiah and Kael came back with news about a rundown store. They said it was twenty minutes north east of us, and a few weaker demons in the way. It's been thirteen minutes into our journey to the store, and I have never seen so many vandalized corpses. The war between the nephilium and the fallen wasn't as bad as this one.

The streets were made for body piles and feeding for the creatures of the night. The oozing blood splashed on your ankles wherever you stepped, like water from a heavy rain. None of the men noticed, but the woman, Caelina, couldn't stop. She was a good warrior, but you'd think that a good warrior would have seen their fair share of gory days.

We stayed in the shadows, hidden from the monster's views as they snacked upon the mutilated bodies. The only comfort I received was my hand in Patch's. He never looked down, he rarely even noticed me, but his comforting squeezes reassured me. Although wanting Patch's attention sounds selfish, his hand holding mine was the only barrier between life and death. If he wasn't here, I probably would have willingly went back to the square and gotten myself killed.

We kept quite, aware of our surroundings and our footing. One mistake could lead to exposing us to the demons that hopped to one body to the other. The sight was sickening. These demons on the streets were scavengers. They didn't look like the demons in the square. These demons were the ones who got the scrapes. The larger demons, like the ones in the square, got first dibs.

With their long claws, they tore into the skins of the dead victims before shoving their faces into the lose meat. Once their faces emerged from the bodies, their faces were dripping blood. There mouths still held fragments of skin stuck in between their teeth, until their long snake-like tongue slithered out of their mouths, collecting the leftover pieces of their meal.

Once the body became bone dry, they moved onto the next body. On the upper side of the street we were on, there was a fight between the demons. They pushed and shoved, they even killed one another for the precious meat at their feet. With a few more steps, I saw what they were fighting for.

Dead eyes stared at me. Her hand was stretched towards me, as if her last fleeting moments was watching men and women run past her, ignoring her pleas for help. Her plump lips dripped crimson, a fresh kill. She must've tripped due to the swollen ankle, but the main reason she died was the missing section of her abdomen. Only her spine was left.

The demons fought over a piece of skin, but once I looked closer, I clutched my stomach. A fetus, almost full grown was thrown between the demons as if it was a toy. The soft skin of the baby was rigid and brown, coated with dried blood. If the baby was carried for a few more weeks, the baby would have been alive. Healthy and happy, but the world doesn't work like that.

One demon's hand was coated with blood, the baby slipped from its hands. The baby's body broke on impact with the ground. The demons went wild. Their claws reached out, taking piece by piece of the dead fetus. The poor thing didn't even have a chance.

I stopped in mid step as I watched the monsters tear the baby apart. Patch stopped as well, looking in my direction. I felt his gaze but I couldn't pull my eyes away from the brutality. Patch turned in the same direction and froze. His hand held my hand tight. With extreme strength, Patch directed his eyes towards me. I figured he felt the same agonizing pain since he covered my view with his body. He held me tight against his body. "Angel, that's not going to happen to you. Look away."

I couldn't, that was the problem. I wanted to, but my body wasn't my own. My brain kept on repeating, That's what our child will know. Our child won't even last a day. Tears started to flow down my face, and even then, I couldn't look away. I can't do this. This is a massacre. I sobbed, a sob that shook my entire body. I wanted to scream, I wanted to leave this place, but this wasn't a nightmare. I was awake and I couldn't escape. A sob left my lips once again, gaining the attention of the demons. Patch notice, as well. "Nora, please. Take deep breaths, I need you to do that. For me. For the baby." The demons followed the noise, focusing their attention in our direction. They cautiously crawled closer to us. Patch turned, watching as they came closer and closer. With a shaky breath, Patch said, "I'm sorry." Patch covered my mouth and carried me into a narrow pathway.

I kept on crying, my body refused to stop. I had no control of my own body. Tears continued to flow down my cheeks and onto Patch's hand. My sobs were muffled, only a whisper. My chest heaved upon the impact of my sobs. Patch whispered sweet nothings into my ear.

The demons continued their way towards us. Patch pecked me on my temple, raising his swords to the front of the alleyway. Before the demons could step into the alleyway, a noise caught their attention. They hesitantly left our hideout to check out the noise. One by one left, before none remained. Patch and I remained in the alleyway for a few more seconds before stepping out in the alleyway.

My sobs had died down, but the emptiness inside of me squeezed my soul. "We'll be okay. Just a few more minutes and we will be safe from all of this." I raised my eyes to Patch's. "I promise we will be safe. Just hold on."

I nodded. "Okay." Sadness filled his onyx eyes as he peered down at me. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. "We will be fine." Patch's hand wiped away my tears and combed through my hair, until he raised his eyes behind me. "Are we close, Kael?"

Facing the same direction, I begged for an answer from Kael. Kael's eyes filled with pity. "Once we round the corner, we'll be safe."

"Then let's pick up the pace. I have a feeling once the moon is at it's peak, we'll be seeing more demons."

"Yes, Commander." Kael about-faced and gave the order to continue forward.

Patch's hand reclaimed mine. "I won't let that happen to us. They will have to kill me first."

I stroked his face with the palm of my hand. "Don't say that. I'm afraid it might come true."

"It won't."

I sadly laughed. "Jev," I paused, "it seems like all our nightmares are coming true. So don't you dare say that aloud." I swallowed. "That's the only nightmare that I wish stays a nightmare."

I know it's short and it's been a long time since I've updated, but I hope you enjoy the chapter. These homework assignments and essays have been eating up my time. I love you guys! Thank you for the support! I will try to update faster.