Angel from Hell: When an angel falls into hell

Irina sat on the wooden bench in the small garden behind her house. The sky above was dark, void of stars, as if reflecting her inner turmoil. She held a cup of tea in her hands, but it had long gone cold, as though time had frozen—or perhaps she wished it had.

She gazed at the desolate garden: bare trees clinging to a few stubborn leaves, grass losing its vibrant green, and flowers that had withered with the onset of winter. This garden mirrored her; something inside her was slowly wilting.

Irina (thinking): "Why? Why do I feel like I'm losing myself? The closer Dimitri gets, the deeper I sink. It's as if he's taken something from me that I can't reclaim."

Memories flooded her mind—his recurring appearances, his words that ensnared her, his touch that left an indelible mark. She felt like a pawn in his game, one whose rules only he understood.

The night was quiet, yet the silence was more unsettling than noise. The wind whispered softly through the trees, like the faint laments of spirits. The single light in the house cast a dim yellow glow, but it brought her no warmth.

A strange heaviness weighed on her chest, as if an invisible force was pressing against her, robbing her of free breath. She tried focusing on the cup of tea in her hands, on the faint steam that still rose from it, but it was only a temporary distraction.

Amidst her swirling thoughts, she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't turn immediately; by now, she had grown accustomed to this sound, to Dimitri's sudden appearances in her most unexpected moments.

Dimitri (softly): "The garden is beautiful at this hour, isn't it?"

Irina slowly lifted her head to find him standing behind her, his shadow stretching long under the pale moonlight. He wore a long black coat, and his eyes gleamed as if reflecting the only light left in the night.

Irina (in a hoarse voice): "Dimitri… how do you always find me?"

He smiled faintly, but it wasn't a comforting smile. It was the kind that held hidden meanings, leaving her feeling completely exposed.

Dimitri (calmly): "I don't need to find you. You call for me without realizing it."

Dimitri approached her slowly, his footsteps barely audible, yet his presence filled the space. He sat beside her on the bench, brushing her hand lightly—a touch that felt like a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins.

Dimitri (whispering): "I love you, I love you, I love you...

You're my angel, sent from a distant heaven..."

His words were like a spell, echoing in her mind and heart, trapping her between desire and fear. She tried pulling her hand away, but his fingers were stronger than she expected.

Irina (in a trembling voice): "Why do you do this? Why won't you leave me alone?"

Dimitri (with a cold smile): "Because you're mine, Irina. And I don't let my precious things slip away."

Irina felt as though she was being torn apart—one part of her wanted to escape from him and the overwhelming emotions he stirred, while another part longed to stay, to dive into his dark depths no matter the cost.

Dimitri's gaze was unwavering, as if it were carving into her soul.

Irina (thinking): "This man isn't normal. He's more than just a person. But... he makes me feel something I've never felt before."

He grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. The distance between them was so close she could feel his breath on her face and the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

Dimitri (in a deep voice): "Don't run from me, Irina. You know you can't."

Irina (in a faint voice): "But I'm afraid of you..."

Dimitri (with a mysterious smile): "Fear and love are two sides of the same coin. Both bind us together."

They stood in the dark garden, surrounded by silence and shadows. Irina felt as though the entire world had disappeared, leaving only her and Dimitri. She knew this encounter wasn't ordinary, that what was happening now would change her life forever.

Dimitri suddenly let her go and vanished into the darkness as swiftly as he had appeared, leaving her in emotional turmoil. She knew there was no escaping him and that her life had become his in ways she couldn't yet comprehend.

Irina (thinking): "I've become his prisoner… and I can't even think of resisting."