Author's notes: let me know what you think by reviewing (once again that number is REVIEW!!!!!!) also here is a speech key, or whatever it's called:
"..."---normal, everyday.
~~~~~~"..."---memories/flashbacks from either movie, have no sentences other then the actual quotes cause you most likely know the scenes already. In italics.
~~~~~~ ------means a flashback/memory that is soley my creation, is written just like the reg. story. In italics.
'...'---thoughts.
Also ****** in the center of the page is a scene cut. In flashbacks it does not effect the reg. present time scene.
Got it? Enjoy!
Broken Angels
by
charon19
Prologue: A Great Fall:
Egypt:1934
His heart was beating so fast, he was sure it could be heard miles away. Sweat rolled down his face and his muscles burned as he ran to his love. He barely caught her before she fell to the sand strewn ground below. He remembered everything. The look of utter shock on her face, the last remnants of a spark in her eyes. Her last breath, so cruel in its truth. The feel of her limp body against his grunge stained shirt. That shirt that to this day still holds her crimson blood, barely a memory to anyone else. She was so frigid in his arms, so indifferent to the desert heat around them.
The burning hatred that drove him to becoming a killer came next. That indescribable passion that still existed as his only means for survival, her memory all that made him make others remember aswell. He could still see the river of blood that rushed down his arm, from the pure torture that came before the death of those that destroyed his happiness. He didn't care then, nor did he later, that Alex had witnessed these acts. He didn't care about "moving on" how could he?
He remembered the years that followed. Everything was a blur save her, and their, memories. There were so many. He never stopped crying for her, knowing she would never again see the light of day. For the world, knowing that her face would never be seen by anyone else. For Alex, who would grow never having a mother to teach him so many things. For himself, knowing that now there was no one truly responsible for those acts still left alive.
Dreams can haunt forever with the flight and fall of broken angels.
******
London: 1945
He sat there, just staring out the window. The rain was falling outside again, and the house was sad and dreary around him. Life had left the inhabitants of this place; phantoms of the past that could as well be dreams were all that was left. Everywhere he turned, shadows of memories loomed.
~~~~~~
"I hate it when you do that."
"Why?"
"It makes me feel like agreeing to anything"
"Anything?"
"Those...are not my knickers..."
******
"You're here, bad guys are here, Evie's been kidnapped. Let me guess..."
~~~~~~
"Evie..." his voice was small and barely above a whisper. He could feel the salt tears prick at eyes so used to crying that they didn't even fall anymore. Eleven years had passed without her. Eleven years his soul sat like this, still and barely moving. Killing with a passion, but living only like a drone.
Alex was now nineteen. He lived in a flat nearby and was off on his first solo dig in Egypt at the moment. He was following his mother's footsteps knowing his father no longer had the heart. Alex usually visited every week to make sure that the bodies found did not contain his father. Jonathan was now dead. He was never the same after Evie's death, none of them were. Their own lives had become quiet and inconsequential after. He was ashamed to say he didn't remember how Jonathan died, Alex would know. He just didn't come home one day and then the news reported his death. That was that. Nothing was the same after that day. He had failed her in that way, it shouldn't be like this, but it was.
"I'm sorry Evie. I tried to stay strong...I tried" but there was no one there to hear the words...no one but him in the darkness. The darkness that held no light, that surged softly backwards into nothing without so much as a second thought.
To be continued...
ps- did you catch the line from "The Listener"? My fav. I had to use it somewhere.
"..."---normal, everyday.
~~~~~~"..."---memories/flashbacks from either movie, have no sentences other then the actual quotes cause you most likely know the scenes already. In italics.
~~~~~~ ------means a flashback/memory that is soley my creation, is written just like the reg. story. In italics.
'...'---thoughts.
Also ****** in the center of the page is a scene cut. In flashbacks it does not effect the reg. present time scene.
Got it? Enjoy!
Broken Angels
by
charon19
Prologue: A Great Fall:
Egypt:1934
His heart was beating so fast, he was sure it could be heard miles away. Sweat rolled down his face and his muscles burned as he ran to his love. He barely caught her before she fell to the sand strewn ground below. He remembered everything. The look of utter shock on her face, the last remnants of a spark in her eyes. Her last breath, so cruel in its truth. The feel of her limp body against his grunge stained shirt. That shirt that to this day still holds her crimson blood, barely a memory to anyone else. She was so frigid in his arms, so indifferent to the desert heat around them.
The burning hatred that drove him to becoming a killer came next. That indescribable passion that still existed as his only means for survival, her memory all that made him make others remember aswell. He could still see the river of blood that rushed down his arm, from the pure torture that came before the death of those that destroyed his happiness. He didn't care then, nor did he later, that Alex had witnessed these acts. He didn't care about "moving on" how could he?
He remembered the years that followed. Everything was a blur save her, and their, memories. There were so many. He never stopped crying for her, knowing she would never again see the light of day. For the world, knowing that her face would never be seen by anyone else. For Alex, who would grow never having a mother to teach him so many things. For himself, knowing that now there was no one truly responsible for those acts still left alive.
Dreams can haunt forever with the flight and fall of broken angels.
******
London: 1945
He sat there, just staring out the window. The rain was falling outside again, and the house was sad and dreary around him. Life had left the inhabitants of this place; phantoms of the past that could as well be dreams were all that was left. Everywhere he turned, shadows of memories loomed.
~~~~~~
"I hate it when you do that."
"Why?"
"It makes me feel like agreeing to anything"
"Anything?"
"Those...are not my knickers..."
******
"You're here, bad guys are here, Evie's been kidnapped. Let me guess..."
~~~~~~
"Evie..." his voice was small and barely above a whisper. He could feel the salt tears prick at eyes so used to crying that they didn't even fall anymore. Eleven years had passed without her. Eleven years his soul sat like this, still and barely moving. Killing with a passion, but living only like a drone.
Alex was now nineteen. He lived in a flat nearby and was off on his first solo dig in Egypt at the moment. He was following his mother's footsteps knowing his father no longer had the heart. Alex usually visited every week to make sure that the bodies found did not contain his father. Jonathan was now dead. He was never the same after Evie's death, none of them were. Their own lives had become quiet and inconsequential after. He was ashamed to say he didn't remember how Jonathan died, Alex would know. He just didn't come home one day and then the news reported his death. That was that. Nothing was the same after that day. He had failed her in that way, it shouldn't be like this, but it was.
"I'm sorry Evie. I tried to stay strong...I tried" but there was no one there to hear the words...no one but him in the darkness. The darkness that held no light, that surged softly backwards into nothing without so much as a second thought.
To be continued...
ps- did you catch the line from "The Listener"? My fav. I had to use it somewhere.