DIVISION
No man could understand loss unless he were named 'Angel', just like Angel aka Angelus was.
Poor Angel. The remorse crawled through him like a horde of eels, pricking and wounding his torn and bleeding liver, treading a path through his very own powerful, horse-like lungs.
He'd lost many precious things in his life-his soul to Darla, his virginity to Buffy, his peroxide to Spike-but none had burned at his very soul like this, except perhaps the peroxide but only if it were in his eyes.
Connor and Cordelia. His son and his love, and now, his former son and his former love, for his son was now the son of another and his love was far more brain dead than ever before.
"Cordelia, oh Cordelia," he moaned.
"What'd you say?" asked the woman behind him in line at the grocery store.
Angel waved her off, with his other hand tightening his protective grip on the packet of blood he'd planned to purchase.
The woman's eyes drifted down his manly profile, down the powerful chords of his neck muscles, over the luscious swell of his bosom, to the dark blood bound in a Ziploc.
"Aah! You're a vampire!" she screamed, and fished out a steak to hit him with.
Bursting into tears, Angel dropped the blood and ran out of the store.
The streets of Los Angeles were dark and piquant, like a painting painted by a good Italian painter, because Italians painted the Vatican. Angel, clothed in black lace, hugged himself protectively as he scampered down the street, all the time batting away the hot tears streaking down his delicate cheeks.
"Oh Cordelia," he whispered to the frigid air. "Why did you leave me? Why?"
The stars held no answer. They stared down in silent reply. They said, "We have no answer." They answered, "She never wanted to leave you." They replied with nothing. Only silence greeted him.
He could remember all those nights Connor cuddled him protectively, whispering his fears away, rocking him gently back and forth. He then thought of his son. Angel suddenly felt lonelier. "Oh Connor, Connor, why did you leave me?"
He swaggered down the street and crept in to the house upon whom Connor now lived. The warm scent of his lanky son lingered like a velveteen perfume upon the ermine dishware.
Angel opened and closed drawers, sniffed the curtains, pawed and fondled his son's clothing.
"You no longer remember me," Angel said despairingly.
There was a noise from the other room!
Angel jumped behind the dresser and hid, trembling now with fear he might be detected.
Connor walked past him, oblivious. His shorn locks were growing into magnificent golden tresses that obliviously caught the light and glimmered like a halo. He ducked swiftly to press a tape into the VCR, then settled onto a couch, his oblivious back to his father. Angel, hoping Connor would remain oblivious, started to stand, oblivious to the movie playing on the screen until it was too late.
Suddenly beautiful and bulbous breasts from a woman's bosom caught his eye, and he realized his son was watching a porno. Angel tried to flee, but it was too late. He ejaculated in sexual pleasure, and in the moment of sublime bliss, his soul was ripped from his body.
"Nooooo!" Angel screamed, but it was too late.
For there, in his place, stood Angelus.
Angelus laughed, and Connor looked at him fearfully.
"But. Who are you?"
Angelus laughed and glared at him evilly. "I am your father."
"That's impossible!"
Angelus laughed. "But I am."
"You can't be!"
Angelus was laughing now. "But I am indeed."
"No!"
"Yes!" Angelus said with a laugh.
"My father..?" Connor echoed in wonder.
Angelus laughed in reply.
"Hi," said Connor.
Angelus began to laugh. "Hi."
"What are you going to do now?" Connor asked in a little voice.
Angelus burst into laughter. "Now, son.. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU because I am evil."
It was then that Angelus began to laugh a chilling, evil laugh.
In the distance, Connor could hear a woman screaming. It was only after a few minutes he realized the screams were his own.
Angelus just laughed away.
To Be Continued.?
Should I write more?
No man could understand loss unless he were named 'Angel', just like Angel aka Angelus was.
Poor Angel. The remorse crawled through him like a horde of eels, pricking and wounding his torn and bleeding liver, treading a path through his very own powerful, horse-like lungs.
He'd lost many precious things in his life-his soul to Darla, his virginity to Buffy, his peroxide to Spike-but none had burned at his very soul like this, except perhaps the peroxide but only if it were in his eyes.
Connor and Cordelia. His son and his love, and now, his former son and his former love, for his son was now the son of another and his love was far more brain dead than ever before.
"Cordelia, oh Cordelia," he moaned.
"What'd you say?" asked the woman behind him in line at the grocery store.
Angel waved her off, with his other hand tightening his protective grip on the packet of blood he'd planned to purchase.
The woman's eyes drifted down his manly profile, down the powerful chords of his neck muscles, over the luscious swell of his bosom, to the dark blood bound in a Ziploc.
"Aah! You're a vampire!" she screamed, and fished out a steak to hit him with.
Bursting into tears, Angel dropped the blood and ran out of the store.
The streets of Los Angeles were dark and piquant, like a painting painted by a good Italian painter, because Italians painted the Vatican. Angel, clothed in black lace, hugged himself protectively as he scampered down the street, all the time batting away the hot tears streaking down his delicate cheeks.
"Oh Cordelia," he whispered to the frigid air. "Why did you leave me? Why?"
The stars held no answer. They stared down in silent reply. They said, "We have no answer." They answered, "She never wanted to leave you." They replied with nothing. Only silence greeted him.
He could remember all those nights Connor cuddled him protectively, whispering his fears away, rocking him gently back and forth. He then thought of his son. Angel suddenly felt lonelier. "Oh Connor, Connor, why did you leave me?"
He swaggered down the street and crept in to the house upon whom Connor now lived. The warm scent of his lanky son lingered like a velveteen perfume upon the ermine dishware.
Angel opened and closed drawers, sniffed the curtains, pawed and fondled his son's clothing.
"You no longer remember me," Angel said despairingly.
There was a noise from the other room!
Angel jumped behind the dresser and hid, trembling now with fear he might be detected.
Connor walked past him, oblivious. His shorn locks were growing into magnificent golden tresses that obliviously caught the light and glimmered like a halo. He ducked swiftly to press a tape into the VCR, then settled onto a couch, his oblivious back to his father. Angel, hoping Connor would remain oblivious, started to stand, oblivious to the movie playing on the screen until it was too late.
Suddenly beautiful and bulbous breasts from a woman's bosom caught his eye, and he realized his son was watching a porno. Angel tried to flee, but it was too late. He ejaculated in sexual pleasure, and in the moment of sublime bliss, his soul was ripped from his body.
"Nooooo!" Angel screamed, but it was too late.
For there, in his place, stood Angelus.
Angelus laughed, and Connor looked at him fearfully.
"But. Who are you?"
Angelus laughed and glared at him evilly. "I am your father."
"That's impossible!"
Angelus laughed. "But I am."
"You can't be!"
Angelus was laughing now. "But I am indeed."
"No!"
"Yes!" Angelus said with a laugh.
"My father..?" Connor echoed in wonder.
Angelus laughed in reply.
"Hi," said Connor.
Angelus began to laugh. "Hi."
"What are you going to do now?" Connor asked in a little voice.
Angelus burst into laughter. "Now, son.. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU because I am evil."
It was then that Angelus began to laugh a chilling, evil laugh.
In the distance, Connor could hear a woman screaming. It was only after a few minutes he realized the screams were his own.
Angelus just laughed away.
To Be Continued.?
Should I write more?