Chuck sighed, running his sweaty hands down his face. Once they finished their journey, his hand wrapped around the half-empty beer bottle adjacent to his computer. He poured the contents into a stout glass that had once held several ice cubes, but now they were melted into a layer of water. Chuck was too tired to care if the drink got watered down.
The sound of flapping wings filled the room. Chuck didn't turn. He didn't want to turn. "Chuck Shurley." A woman's stiff voice said from behind him.
Chuck knit his brows together, and his shoulders stiffened. He knew that voice. It was a voice that used to laugh with him. It was a voice that used to be so caring. But now it meant business.
He turned slowly to face the woman. There she was. Tara. The sight of her sent a pang of sadness through Chuck's chest.
It was her; her shoulder-length, chestnut-colored hair that he used to run his fingers through, her heart-shaped, lightly freckled face that he used to kiss every night, her gray-blue eyes that used to sparkle with joy. Now they were empty of all feeling.
The woman standing in front of Chuck looked like her, but it wasn't. It was her body, but she didn't occupy it. She was possessed by an angel.
Tara, or rather the angel, stepped towards Chuck, a smile on her face. The smile made Chuck feel sick. He knew the angel was faking it. Angels didn't feel emotions like humans do, and it hurt to see Tara's face smiling at him.
"How are you?" She asked, extending her arms for a hug. Chuck didn't budge. The angel's smile faltered for a split second as she lowered her arms awkwardly.
"What are you doing here?" Chuck asked, averting his eyes and avoiding the question. "We are supposed to be catering to your needs, Chuck. You are the Prophet." Tara said, "We are your soldiers, and the fortress is only as strong as the soldiers."
Chuck frowned, "If…..If you're supposed to 'Cater to my needs', give me her back…." His words were barely audible by the time he was finished.
The angel gave Chuck an incredulous look, "I'm sorry, Chuck, I thought you asked us to save her. If I hadn't had claimed her as my vessel, she would have died, and I can't guarantee that she'll survive if I leave…. And I have a feeling that you'll feel guilty if she did die."
Chuck looked up to respond, but the angel had already vanished. 'The fortress is only as strong as the soldiers….' The angel's words echoed through his head. He emitted a small, shaky sigh. Shimmering tears welled in his stormy-blue eyes. He didn't feel like a fortress, but he was the Prophet…..