His Angel
People say when angels sing, any weakness is washed away.
Prologue
December 19th, 2006: One year after Kijuju
The sun dipped below the horizon, its remaining light coloring the sky in an aray of oranges, pinks and different shades of red.
The city of New York grew steadily quiet and calm as night slowly took its place in the growing starry sky. The traffic on the streets died down to only a sparce amount of cars as people traveled to their jobs for the dreaded night shift.
Chris Redfield traveled to work after bidding his sister goodbye before leaving the driveway of their house. As he left, Claire gazed out of the window, smiling sadly as his black Jaguar zoomed out of the drive. She was dressed in a gray tank top and white sleeping shorts. Her red hair was loose and went down to her shoulder. A clock somewhere in the house sounded, ringing twelve times.
It's that time again...
For as long as she can remember, Claire kept a certain secret from those close to her... except for one certain person. He saw her secret back on Rockfort Island before she and her brother reunited and escaped the island. But, he was finally dead, thanks to Chris and Sheva.
But what was this secret that she kept inside her?
People say that there are angels among us, helping us in dire times of need, even though we do not see them. Some people claim that one helped them in certain circumstances.
One man said to have been pulled from his car when he was involved in an accident. He was carried to the side of the road where he would be safe until medical help arrived on the scene. When the EMTs arrived several moments later, the man wanted to thank the person that saved him, but... he was there no longer! He seemed to have vanished.
Pulling the curtains shut, she stood in the middle of their living room and closed her eyes, a look of calmness on her face. Suddenly, she was enveloped in a golden light.
Two white feathered wings appeared on her back. Her street clothes were replaced by a white spagetthi strap tank top and white denim jeans with white sandals. Her hair grew to her mid-back and had silver streaks in it. Her eyes became pale blue when they opened. A pair of white gloves that stopped at her wrists covered her hands.
For as long as she can remember, Claire was an angel.
She gained this gift when she was seven, seven days after their parents died.
Flashback
Seven year old Claire wept on her bed, her face covered by her arms. She had lost her parents and still hasn't gotten over it. Sometimes, she would cry herself to sleep at night. Not even Chris could cheer her up or bring her comfort. It was 8:39 pm on her clock on the left wall above her white dresser. As she cried...
Claire-bear...
Claire suddenly perked up, knowing that voice all too well. "...Mommy?" she sniffed.
Claire... it's alright, sweetheart. I'm right here.
"Mommy! Where are you, Mommy?" Claire called out.
Suddenly, she felt a warm hand caress her cheek and turning around, there floated her mother's apparition, smiling warmly at her. She was dressed in a golden robe as her long, brown hair flowed about her. Claire jumped off the bed, a watery grin on her face.
"Mommy! You came back! I knew you wouldn't-" Claire's mother held up a hand to silence her.
I'm afraid I can't stay, darling.
Claire's grin was wiped off her face in an instant. "But why? I need you, Mommy! Chwis and I both do!" she cried, new tears running down her cheeks.
I know. I'll always be here Claire's mother pointed at the little girl's chest. Right there when you need me. Now, I want you to be a good girl for me. And no more tears, ok? Chris will be there for you as well.
Claire nodded, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Smiling, Claire's mother embraced her one last time, enveloping the girl in a warm light. When Claire opened her eyes, her mother was gone. But, she felt something on her back. Looking behind her, she saw two white angel wings! Grinning again, she reached behind and felt them. They were real! She heard her mother again.
My last gift from me to you, my little angel. Now, you can say your mother just went back home to where she belonged. Embrace it, Claire. I will guide you in any way I can.
Claire closed her eyes and put her hands on her heart. "... Thank you, Mommy," she said softly.
End Flashback
That day she would never forget... A single tear ran down her face as she smiled softly.
As her transformation was complete, many non-understandable whispers filled her mind, as if they were right next to her, but there was one she could make out among all of them.
Maybe I should've brought Claire with me. Oh, will you cut it out! Claire can handle herself! She's not a baby anymore!
Claire giggled at her brother's thoughts. "Always the worrywort, Chris," she sighed.
Wrapping her wings around her, she disappeared in a flash of light and reappeared high above the house. The chilly December air bit at her bare arms, but she paid no mind to it. She used to it every time she would take flight. But, she was always savored the sensation of flying. She felt like her very soul was caged and now, was set free, though for awhile until the rising of the sun. But, she enjoyed every minute of it.
Fully extending her gossamer wings, she flew towards downtown, the whispers in her mind gradually getting louder. Snow began to fall at a light rate as she entered the city limits, flying high enough so she couldn't be seen by the people below. She slowed down as she approached the main portion of New York. Below her, Time Square was lit up and her ears were bombarded with the sounds of car horns.
"It hasn't changed much over the years. Still as noisy as ever," she said to herself as she gracefully glided over the busy streets.
She came to the top of the famous Empire State Building and sat on the edge, folding her wings around her shoulders. This was her favorite spot, both while human and angel. She could think without other things in her life bothering her. The snowfall picked up a little as she now gazed out to the huge metropolis.
Over the years that she had this blessing, her mother's spirit guided, trained and protected her as she grew up. But, there was one thing that bothered most of all: not being able to save Steve from his fate. She remembered her mother's words as she cried over his ice cold body.
My dear, his spirit is safe with us. I will watch him as if he were my own son.
Those words gave her a comfort so calming that Claire knew she was right. Steve was safe with her.
Ever since then, she grew more stronger in herself and in her powers. Closing her eyes, she turned to the whispers in her mind while everything else seem to vanish. Searching through the many voices and prayers, she landed on one she certainly did NOT expect...
Out again, eh, Claire?
Her eyes snapped open in shock, her heart nearly stopping. She knew that voice anywhere...! Visions of Rockfort came flashing back to her.
No... it couldn't be... How the hell is he still alive?
Quickly getting to her feet and extending her wings, she quickly traced the source and followed it.
I know you can hear my thoughts, little angel. The voice chuckled. You worried that I'm going after your dear brother. You want to find me? Here.
Seeing the location, Claire's face hardened into a glare as she flew faster towards where HE was. His tone sounded almost taunting, as if daring her to come. Arriving near Central Park a couple of minutes later, she landed near the fountain and looked around.
"Where are you, Wesker! Come out and show yourself!" she yelled into the night.
Silence was the only reply, which was quickly broken by a dark, haunting chuckle that drifted about her. Her senses were on edge as she whipped around and looked behind the huge fountain.
Standing there, donning all black, was the Tyrant himself. A smirk curled at his lips as he stepped into the dim lights shining from the bridge behind them. But, something felt off about him.
"Surprised to see me, dear heart?" he asked her.
"Don't call me that! How come you're not dead!" Claire snapped, hands clenched into fists.
Wesker chuckled again as he removed his sunglasses, but instead of the usual golden-crimson cat like eyes, they were now a piercing violet. Her eyes widened as she felt an aura of forboding and ultimate darkness emitting from him, silently pressing down and suffocating her.
"You should know something about gods from UMBRELLA; they can't be killed. For me..." a sadistic grin spread across his lips. "I have finally achieved that status." His voice was joined by a demonic, distorted tone.
Claire shivered at his voice. "...What... what are you-"
Claire! He has become a Fallen One! Get away from him! she heard her mother's voice scream.
"Hiding behind Mommy? How pitiful." He outstretched his left hand, palm facing her.
Claire suddenly yelled in pain as she felt something being torn from her. After a few seconds of agony, out came her mother's soul in a ball of golden light. She fell to her knees, panting, as she gazed up at him.
"... A Fallen One?" She, then, stared in horror as Wesker's coat turned into black smoke and turned into a pair of jet black wings on his back, exposing his chiseled torso.
Holding the ball of light in his hand, Wesker laughed. "Yes, Miss Redfield. The forces of Death favor me and I now control its deadly powers!"
Closing his hand, Claire could only watch as her mother's soul shattered like glass.