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Screams. Never ending screams pierced the room.
White flew around the room. A grunt then silence intruded the enclosed area.
The most beautiful creature slumped unconsciously to the bench below him. Dark red liquid slithered down the curves of the creature. A diamond collar, that appeared to be more than for decoration, sat shimmering around the creature's neck.
The man who had attached the collar to the creature grabbed it by its pure white wings which held many feathers flawed by the red liquid. He proceeded to toss the creature in a cage where it would stay until it was shipped to its new owner.
Blaine Anderson, a young man of only seventeen who didn't have a problem in lounging in his parents' wealthy lifestyle, was coming home for the summer before returning to Dalton for his Senior year.
As soon as he arrived, his mother practically tackled him into a hug. As he returned the affection, he noticed a camera directed at him.
"Did you upgrade our security?"
His mother nodded but didn't take a moment to explain. She ushered him into the living room where his father was reading from his laptop.
"Son, we have decided that it was time you had something to be responsible for."
Blaine's stomach dropped. He could almost hear the word 'job' in the future.
"We have a surprise waiting for you in your room."
Blaine's dread was vanished as he rushed to his room. In contrast form the rest of the house, Blaine's room was black compared to the lightness of the rest of his home. In the corner stood a large cage that blocked whatever was inside from view.
Eager to see what the cage contained, Blaine lifted the heavy latch, and the cage creaked open. All that was visible to his eye was a pair of pure white wings tinged with what seemed to be blood. Toes were exposed, and the flawless skin was beautiful. The rest of the body was hidden by the wings which wrapped around the creature's figure.
The young man locked the cage once more and rushed down to his parents. "Where did you ever find one?"
Blaine's mother smiled. "We were very lucky. It has been freshly collar, so it's sure to be frisky." She winked at her son while handing him a small remote that fit in the palm of his hand.
Blaine returned to his room and reopened the cage. He tugged the creature from his holding place, and the wings ruffled at the foreign touch. The creature seemed to be in a state of peace, but Blaine was much too eager to play with his new toy.
Reaching out, he placed a hand on the right wing. Icy blue eyes snapped open, and the perfect scream of bells rang out.
Blaine snatched his hand away and stared at the creature that seemed to be in so much anguish. The creature stared back waiting for the pain to return.
"You're beautiful," Blaine blurted softly.
The creature neither smiled nor spoke, instead, it lower its eyes and stood. Taking a place at the wide French doors, which led to a balcony, light shimmered off the flawless creature.
Blaine's gift was perfect; it was all his to show off, to use as bragging rights, and to use as a way to obtain physical pleasure.
Angels were notoriously known as being the perfect lover even though they were pure creatures.
The creature stared out at the open world, a precious gift that everyone took for advantage, and it nearly wept at the thought that it was a gift he would never be given.
While the majestic thing watched from the closed door, Blaine examined every part of his present's revealed body that wasn't hidden by the short shorts or white wings tinted by blood which nearly grazed the floor below. Blaine idly thought of how he would pluck the feathers tinged with red to perfect the creature.
Hesitantly, he reached forward to grab onto one of the flawed feathers, and as soon as he so much as touch the wing, the creature cried out again, and its knees shook, ready to give out. With a sharp tug, the feather released into Blaine's hand, and another shriek of bells echoed through the room.
The creature did not turn to face his new master. Instead, it composed itself.
Blaine twirled the red stained feather between his fingers, enjoying its soft texture. His gift was magnificent. His present was more gorgeous than anything he had ever seen. His award was perfect.
Blaine's creature was an angel.
Gazing out of the door, the angel focused on the cloudy memory of his father. The last time he had seen the man, the angel had been only six years of age. His mother passed away twenty days before he was taken from his home. Tears threatened the angel when thoughts of the man breaking down without his family.
"What are you thinking?"
The angel hadn't realized that his new owner had been in the room.
"My father," the creature replied quietly.
"What is your name?"
The angel was taken by surprise. No one had asked for a name since the removal from Burt.
"Kurt Hummel," the angel smiled for the first time.
"Kurt…" Blaine was quiet. It didn't seem original enough. It wasn't majestic enough, and the name didn't suit the beautiful creature.
As if the angel was reading Blaine's mind, he quietly whispered, "I like my name. My father named me Kurt."
"How old are you?" Kurt remained quiet for a moment before replying.
"I don't remember." There were so many things didn't remember although his life was still very young, but the only thing he feared the most was outliving everyone he once knew. Angels were known for living an implicit amount of years because once their masters died, the creature escaped for a while before being captured once more.
Blaine stroked the top of his angel's wing absentmindedly as he followed his beauty's stare, but Kurt shrieked. Anger bubbled up in the owner and he reached out for a different spot on the opposite wing, but he got the same result.
"Where the hell is your spot?" Blaine growled gripping the base of the wing, and Kurt fell to the floor in pain. The pleasure point on angels was typically easy to find, but Blaine tried all day to the find it on Kurt until his angel fell to the floor in pain.
"On your knees," Blain growled, frustrated by not being able to find the spot on his angel that would give the creature a feeling of euphoria. Feeling his new found power seize his entire being, Blaine took total control, and Kurt wept silently as he turned over to study the wooden floor below him attempting to block out the horrid feeling which flamed within his entire being.
When the angel finally fell asleep, Blaine carried him to the short bed below his and admired his prize, but the changing feathers did not go unnoticed. Not only were they falling out at random moments, but the tips at the very end were not only stained with red but flawed by deadly black.
When Kurt woke up, he was in a small bed lower to the ground then Blaine's king sized bed. He was a pet. His own humanity had been taken from him, and ever since he was forcibly taken from his father, he had no longer been referred to as a male.
Blaine pushed an apple into his angel's hand. "Eat," he commanded. He watched his pet consume the fruit with pleasure. Unable to contain himself, Blaine pushed his lips upon the young angel's. The angel whimpered and tried to free himself, but the owner grabbed the tiny remote which resided in his pocket and pressed the first button his finger could find.
Kurt fell with thud to the floor, and even though he seemed to be unconscious, his body convulsed.
Blaine released the button and looked at the remote in his hand to see that he had it set to maximum power. Kurt sat up after a moment and kept his eyes adverted. He remained silent and rigid when Blaine recaptured his mouth.
"Like heaven," Blaine mumbled after releasing his angel.
The winged creature remained in its spot until Blaine confirmed he was done. Kurt made his way to the gaze out the closed French doors. Blaine opened one and nodded when silently asked for permission to go out onto the balcony.
White swarmed about the air when the wind blew, and when the breeze settled, a few feathers stayed behind, falling soundlessly to the wood below the angel's feet.
"Why do you keep losing feathers?" Blaine stood beside his prize and stroked a wing absentmindedly.
The beauty cringed in pain, "I don't know." The hand clamped down on his wing eliciting a scream. Kurt fell heavily against the banister while Blaine returned to his room. Pulling out his laptop, he searched angels, and hundreds of pictures appeared of flawless skin and multicolored feathers.
Furthering his search, Blaine found exactly what he was looking for.
"When an angel is taken from its original birth place, they are young to prevent them from falling in love.
In 1983, Anya, born in Western Europe, was discovered at age nineteen, a late age for angel, and taken from her home to be sold. Eight weeks later, she was discovered featherless and deceased. A man from her birthplace stepped forward shortly after and told his tale of how they had been sweethearts even before her wings developed. The man she had been sold to was not reported of abusing her; he had been kind to her.
After the tragic accident, the man who had owned her died at a young age.
It was known from then that to let an angel lose its feathers and return to heaven is a sin among humans. A hard life lives ahead of those who let the purist of creatures suffer.
Every once in a while, an angel will be able to fall again for its owner which will keep its life sustained, but if a not, the angel must be returned to its love in order to live. To even make an angel weep is a horrid sin for an angel is a gift unto the human world to brighten the innocence within the darkness contained by man."
Blaine swallowed heavily looking over to his creature who stood rigid on the balcony. Deep in his mind, he knew that he would never win his angel's heart after the monstrous things he had done to his beauty.
The next day, Blaine tended to his angel with sweet delicacy, feeding him well and holding him gently. But all the while, the creature's petite body remained tense.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked quietly, but his angel only pointed to the French doors which lead to the balcony. He stood there for hours on end until the sun began to dim and the warmth of day settled. The remaining feathers cocooned around his body, and finally, he entered Blaine's room reluctantly.
"Did you love someone before you were taken?" Blaine asked when his prize curled up and faced away from him.
Kurt frozen as his mind reeled back to his childhood before the odd nubs on his back began to develop into what would become the valuable wings.
"No," he murmured in a soft peal of bells, but one face shined in his memory though he pushed for freedom from the glaring eyes he remembered all to clearly.
It wasn't until two days later that Blaine watched silently from his perch on his bed that he noticed the changing wings. They fluttered and stretched in the summer air, but the feathers dropped helplessly to fly freely in the breeze. The beautiful wings that once caressed the floor were much shorter than when Blaine had revealed his creature.
When the beauty finally returned that night, tears were evident in the crystal orbs as well as streaks along his prefect porcelain cheeks.
Without the touch of the little remote or a hand to the wing, the beautiful being gracefully swayed in almost a slow motion like state to the flooring.
"Shit."
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