Day by Day: Delivery from Night
By Pandora North Star
Summary: something happened a January night in 1980, that nobody remembers.
Angel huddled in the cold January weather in an alley. New York bustled by him still pretending to celebrate Christmas and ignore the harsh new year. So 1980 wasn't that promising. Didn't really matter to him. All that mattered were the countless people he had killed, whose children and grand children and great grandchildren wouldn't be living to celebrate the new year with the currently alive.
It was to him the same type of night as it always was, a few homeless humans seeking shelter at the nearby inn and a few dead rats to be disgusted by. He watched them go by with their tattered coats and shopping carts. He mirrored their forsaken image but was nothing like them in truth. He was an outcast, a vulgar atrocity created by a cruel world, made to suffer eternally for his sins and the ones like him.
He was a coward. Had never been anything more. He clung to his shriveled sense of self afraid to take a step into the land of tomorrow, and refused to give up his little piece of soul to the beyond. Each day was the same monotonous routine save a few ventures to get in touch with a humanity who would never embrace him again.
And this night was the same as all the others. A crisp cold came with the bitter wind that night as Angel drained another filthy little rat. He didn't get cold easily so he didn't mind sitting outside while the snow fell. Besides he would have to move inside towards morning, he didn't want to sacrifice his night too soon. Despite the clouds and the New York night a small silver-yellow moon shone down on the earth below. Angel watched it through the buildings traveling slowly across the sky. It was his nightly companion and this night he especially needed its company. For some reason he felt extra alone and an odd sensation had been following him all day. He didn't attribute it to evil because it didn't feel evil but in his miserable surroundings it could almost be forgotten as a feeling of good.
It built in his bones as the night wore on. It started to become more than a sensation. A Pulsing madness. He went to a local bar with a few meager dollars and drowned himself in alcohol in hopes the haunting feeling would leave him. But they intensified, with the alcohol behind them they seemed to light his body on fire. It was torturous and for what did he owe this madness.
"For the love of all that is good in this world make it stop." Angel pleaded drunkenly as he laid down in his alley. "I can't take it anymore." And then it intensified again with blinding fire it rippled through his entire body and then became as cold as ice. He sighed as it began to subside. He looked up to the sky and watched as a far away star twinkled and began flying across the sky. "A falling star. But what does it all mean?" Angel moaned to himself. An eery song began playing. He looked around completely bewildered but it seemed to be in his own head. He closed his eyes, shutting out the star and the New York city lights and let the song play. It was a ballad with timid keys being struck as it went up and down chronicling some sort of story, of that he could tell. Tears ran down his cheeks as this beautiful song played for him alone, telling of some great love but why was he the chosen audience? And then with a rolling climax it ended. He took a deep breath as if the very listening had drained him of his energy. Something so melodic and touching had to mean something very deep to someone. But whom? To him? For what reason? He wiped away the tears from his eyes, they were red. How very strange.
If he hadn't been extremely drunk he would have analyzed all the signs but he was very sleepy and it was almost morning. Angel dragged himself to a sheltered doorway and took a haggard breath to calm his nerves. He watched a young curly browned hair woman rush by with a tiny blond baby. The baby looked at him for a moment and smiled. Angel smiled back and then sleep overtook him.
His dreams were full of shadows and figures and hints but none he would remember. And come day neither the star nor the song nor the pain he would remember but years later he would recall those tears and know what it all meant.
By Pandora North Star
Summary: something happened a January night in 1980, that nobody remembers.
Angel huddled in the cold January weather in an alley. New York bustled by him still pretending to celebrate Christmas and ignore the harsh new year. So 1980 wasn't that promising. Didn't really matter to him. All that mattered were the countless people he had killed, whose children and grand children and great grandchildren wouldn't be living to celebrate the new year with the currently alive.
It was to him the same type of night as it always was, a few homeless humans seeking shelter at the nearby inn and a few dead rats to be disgusted by. He watched them go by with their tattered coats and shopping carts. He mirrored their forsaken image but was nothing like them in truth. He was an outcast, a vulgar atrocity created by a cruel world, made to suffer eternally for his sins and the ones like him.
He was a coward. Had never been anything more. He clung to his shriveled sense of self afraid to take a step into the land of tomorrow, and refused to give up his little piece of soul to the beyond. Each day was the same monotonous routine save a few ventures to get in touch with a humanity who would never embrace him again.
And this night was the same as all the others. A crisp cold came with the bitter wind that night as Angel drained another filthy little rat. He didn't get cold easily so he didn't mind sitting outside while the snow fell. Besides he would have to move inside towards morning, he didn't want to sacrifice his night too soon. Despite the clouds and the New York night a small silver-yellow moon shone down on the earth below. Angel watched it through the buildings traveling slowly across the sky. It was his nightly companion and this night he especially needed its company. For some reason he felt extra alone and an odd sensation had been following him all day. He didn't attribute it to evil because it didn't feel evil but in his miserable surroundings it could almost be forgotten as a feeling of good.
It built in his bones as the night wore on. It started to become more than a sensation. A Pulsing madness. He went to a local bar with a few meager dollars and drowned himself in alcohol in hopes the haunting feeling would leave him. But they intensified, with the alcohol behind them they seemed to light his body on fire. It was torturous and for what did he owe this madness.
"For the love of all that is good in this world make it stop." Angel pleaded drunkenly as he laid down in his alley. "I can't take it anymore." And then it intensified again with blinding fire it rippled through his entire body and then became as cold as ice. He sighed as it began to subside. He looked up to the sky and watched as a far away star twinkled and began flying across the sky. "A falling star. But what does it all mean?" Angel moaned to himself. An eery song began playing. He looked around completely bewildered but it seemed to be in his own head. He closed his eyes, shutting out the star and the New York city lights and let the song play. It was a ballad with timid keys being struck as it went up and down chronicling some sort of story, of that he could tell. Tears ran down his cheeks as this beautiful song played for him alone, telling of some great love but why was he the chosen audience? And then with a rolling climax it ended. He took a deep breath as if the very listening had drained him of his energy. Something so melodic and touching had to mean something very deep to someone. But whom? To him? For what reason? He wiped away the tears from his eyes, they were red. How very strange.
If he hadn't been extremely drunk he would have analyzed all the signs but he was very sleepy and it was almost morning. Angel dragged himself to a sheltered doorway and took a haggard breath to calm his nerves. He watched a young curly browned hair woman rush by with a tiny blond baby. The baby looked at him for a moment and smiled. Angel smiled back and then sleep overtook him.
His dreams were full of shadows and figures and hints but none he would remember. And come day neither the star nor the song nor the pain he would remember but years later he would recall those tears and know what it all meant.