Three On A Match
⁂ Third on a match. Meaning: bad luck.

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kintsukuroi (Complete)
Short Story 

Five years ago
Adrien Nowak Offline
Nephilim Half-Blood
The monthly Day of Healing has come and Adrien wasn’t feeling well today. He didn’t get much sleep and his body felt oddly achy. But he donned the white robes and walked into the chapel, blinded by the bright lights.

He was tired. But it was fine. The people needed him and his powers, his little miracles. The sick and wounded counted on him.

So the Nephilim gave his sermon and invited his followers to come closer to the altar. The elders already picked the ones to be healed for him, as everything had to be rather controlled. But today, Adrien wasn’t really having that. He healed the cold of Gabrielle, the broken finger of Jack and whatever trivial thing they wanted him to do.

But he noticed a small girl who had problems walking for a while. The limp was quite noticeable, the injury was rather fresh. Adrien motioned her over…

“You already did your duties.” Mark, one of the elders said.

“I still have room for one more.”

Adrien smiled at the girl, she seemed to be in awe to be chosen personally by their messiah. He put a hand on her injured, swollen knee and let the miracle happen. And soon enough, the injury was gone, the half-angel received a big hug and everyone was ready to go back to their daily lives.

Only something else happened. Adrien heard a crack. Skin tore on his cheek, started seeping out light gently.

“Huh…? Ah!”

Pain. Sharp pain his back that almost brought him to his knees. Blood seeped through his white robes. And… More light. More cracks. His eyes shone so bright, he could barely see, causing some blood vessels to burst and cause bleeding.
The crowd gasped and stared, both in fear and admiration of the divine display before them. Their saviour, both human and celestial, showing both sides of his ancestry. Golden and red…

“Call the doctors and get him out of here.” Mark said quietly to his aide, whom have nodded and rushed out towards their living quarters.
Some other elders were visibly uncomfortable, one of them tried to actually help Adrien up, the other lead the people out of the chapel.

“T… Thank you… Your compassion will be remembered…” He whispered and tried to stand proud and upright. But the throbbing pain in his back made him groan and hunch over again. Adrien started clawing at the robes, tearing them apart, revealing the malformed wing and more cracks in his skin. Red and gold all over him, light blasting through the cracks, mixing with blood from the wing that tried to grow and expand. “Father… Father, help me…”

The doctors rushed in, tried to restrain Adrien, but they were quickly pushed away. He wouldn’t let them touch him, not when even through all the gold and red he saw a shine of a syringe needle. Heathens, how dare they pump him with some chemicals…

“Adrien. Adrien…” Mark rose his hands, looking at the disheveled, bleeding boy. “Please, look at me.”

And so he did. He always trusted Mark…

And he was jabbed with a sedative when distracted.

What happened next, he wouldn’t remember.

Adrien woke up hours later, in his bed. Feverish and sickly, shivering. His mouth was dry, he barely could open his eyes as the blood crust almost welded his eyelids shut. The throbbing pain in his back was still there, but more faint…
He tried to get up, but just fell on the floor. He felt so sick, he vomited on the fluffy white rug in his room.

“I told you that you’ve done duties for today.”
The Nephilim heard Mark’s voice, but there wasn’t even a hint of disappointment in it. “You’d feel better if you just listen to me.”

Adrien couldn’t speak, he just groaned as he tried to crawl into the bathroom. The elder wouldn’t move to help him.

“But at least you’ve earned even more loyalty from the followers today. I must admit, that was quite a spectacle.”

He managed to drag himself upright by the sink. Got the water running and drank it eagerly.

“Too bad you had to leave such mess, Adi.”

Adrien saw himself in the mirror. His skin still slightly cracked, the warm, golden light seeping through it. The blood stained his pale skin, caked on the side he lied on, likely ruined his bedsheets as well. He was a mess and he felt barely alive.

“Let’s keep it more controlled next time, hm…?”

The Nephilim finally spoke. Of course, the Elders knew that would happen, but no one stopped him properly. What else were they hiding from him?

“Fuck… you…”

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