Author's Notes: This story came out of a second challenge of trying to write a journal entry for my English class in college when I was stuck for an idea. It was suggested to me to write about a Weeping Angel from the Angel's perspective. I wrote this one-shot with no forethought and just let the words flow to tell the story that wished to be told.
Disclaimer: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.
An Angel to Watch Over Me
She remained in wait with the patience of a thousand saints. The hunger had grown overwhelming at times, but she had no choice and needed to remain stationary. She could not be seen moving, and she knew that it would only be a matter of time before someone happened along again. With stony eyes, she surveyed the open landscape, gazing at the multitude of different heights amongst the headstones. She had taken this perch purposefully, aware of how the visitors had waned in the last few decades. Even the tombstones had grown faded as many of the names had been beaten away by the weather. Some of the headstones had been vandalized on dark nights, when the only light available was a sliver of the moon, and it was on those nights she had feasted.
She had grown lonely in the last couple months, though. She remembered the gentle groundskeeper, the unusual man she had watched grow old, and who had showed meticulous care in every grave he passed. During his shift, he had spent his time resetting the tombstones into place and burying their foundations with fresh dirt. He often took paper and charcoal, rubbing the names and dates of the stones onto thin parchment, storing them in a large binder. She had listened intently to all of his ramblings as he passed, learning about him. He felt it important to remember these people in this old cemetery. He promised each grave as he worked on it that they would never be lost or forgotten, and he would see that their names and dates were saved for others to find.
During her younger days when this old groundskeeper was still vibrant and full of energy to be feasted upon, she dared to creep closer to him as he worked. She silently stepped near only when he had looked away from her or closed his eyes. Every time he blinked, she knew she had to be impossibly quick. She had managed to move within a few feet from where he was working. She imagined the sweet taste of his life energy as it would linger within her stone body, filling her hunger for months. Then, the man turned and looked her directly in the eyes. She had not yet demonized her face, had not yet bared her teeth. He scratched his chin in thought, and she saw that he had a scar that had destroyed nearly half his face. Whatever had caused the gash had once ripped his face from his forehead to his chin, slicing through his cheek and damaging his left eye so that it was nearly dead. Whatever surgery he had to fix the damage was done horribly, taking away every trace of the handsome face that he could have had.
The sight of his disfiguration had made her hesitate to steal his energy and transport him away. She did not know if it was the shock of seeing a human so physically destroyed, all vanity stripped or if it was the way he looked at her and spoke softly. "You have to help me watch over them. I won't be here forever, you know."
As though he could see that she was staring at his scarred face, he shrugged his shoulders and continued. "See this," he said pointing to the disfigurement, "I ain't go nobody, never will. I figure I got an angel watching me here while I work and that's enough. When I'm not in this cemetery, no one looks at me. They all turn away. Doesn't matter where I go, but here, I have sanctuary." He paused, cocking his head to the side, seeming to examine her face and hair, making sure she hadn't acquired any damage. "Don't think I didn't notice that you were behind Baby John's grave when I started my shift, but now you're standing on Mrs. Mary Dunham. For whatever reason you took interest in me, and I don't know if that's good or bad, but your interest is more than I get with the living folk out there. In case you're wondering, my name is Gabriel. I'll keep you from chipping and breaking if you leave me to my work."
Unable to do more than just stare at this unique human and his unusual look at the world, she realized in that moment that he cared for her preservation, just as he did for every other lost soul in this graveyard. Despite her nature to feed on such energy and send the person to another place in time, she could not eat this time. This groundskeeper was not afraid of her and was probably the first person who ever spoke to any of her kind. She was confused by him and yet fascinated at the same time, as he was the only one she ever met who talked to her people. She had found it strangely fitting that a man named after a mythological angel would have regular encounters with one.
At first she could never figure out why she had spared Gabriel, but it was just something she had done. Over the years as he grew older and continued to care for the graves, she shadowed behind him when he wasn't watching. Sometimes it almost felt like a game, and he would tease her about being able to see her moving. Their conversations were always one-sided, with him doing all the talking for both of them. He was always trying to second-guess what she was thinking and after a few years, he started to get good at it.
She still feasted, though, as there were always vandals who entered the graveyard without compassion for the dead. She even remembered one night a number of months ago when a pack of vandals had confronted her kind groundskeeper. The poor human was feeble, his strength failing him regularly. Gabriel had celebrated his 83rd birthday in the graveyard with her, thoughtful enough to bring a cupcake with the intent to share it, even though he knew she could not partake in the small pastry. But, that was how he was with her. He was kind, and she had appreciated that about him. She had eventually learned that his compassion was why she had spared him.
After Gabriel had enjoyed his cupcake, apologizing that he could never figure out what she would eat, the groundskeeper would learn truly what she was. A group of three vandals had entered the graveyard, their intent for destruction and trouble. She had seen their kind before in earlier centuries: young men who wasted their lives by harassing others and destroying that which wasn't theirs. It was not her first encounter with such selfish humans, and she was certain that in the centuries to come, it would not be her last. They had knocked down a headstone and cracked it violently. For an old man, Gabriel was instantly on his feet yelling at them that they had just destroyed Mr. Robert Cobble's headstone, and it was over 100 years old. Angry about the destruction of a timepiece that could not be replaced, Gabriel spun from his private birthday party with her to confront the men. They shamelessly sneered at his face, telling horrible jokes about his disfigurement. They pushed at his weak body, knocking him into Baby Josephina Stone's grave and chipping part of the tombstone.
She could not take the abuse to her groundskeeper any longer. Throughout the years she had known Gabriel, she was careful to have her meals when he was not around to see her for who she truly was. She knew that revealing her true nature tonight might very well break the pact they had, but she needed to protect him just as he had for her for the past sixty years.
She carefully timed her attack, patiently progressing forward with every chance she had while one of those insolent men blinked or turned away. Eventually, one of them started to realize that she had moved from her original position, and he waved his flashlight wildly in the twilight of night. She maintained her patience with every flicker of the flashlight and every time one of their heads turned towards her. Finally close enough to attack, she had revealed her fangs and her claws, and the look of terror in their eyes made her starve for their energy. She had not eaten in six months, and three strong, young men would give her enough satisfaction to last two years.
She reached her hand forward in that one moment when the light dipped, and they could not see her. In a fraction of a second, she thought of a fitting time to put one of the men, and her fingers touched upon his shoulder. He had no time to scream as she was filled with blissful satisfaction. His energy sustained her and filled her stone body with warmth, and his transport to the coal mines of 1922 Pennsylvania seemed fitting. He would learn hard labor and perhaps some kindness during his ordeal.
Before she could touch either of the other two men, they turned and started running. With the flashlight turned away from her and with their backs turned in the darkness, she now had the advantage. She could move swiftly without light or eyes upon her. Her fingers pressed against the back of the second one, and it was another feast of energy. This one she had sent to the factories of 1894 in Great Britain. He would spend his time as a laborer and learn what it was to have to make a living.
The last vandal had managed to get to the street where he was encased in streetlights. She could not follow now, as there was light and people moving about. Still, two meals would last her for quite some time, and she needed to return to Gabriel to make certain he was safe. Fading into the darkness as the people went about their business, not giving her a second glance, she returned to where Gabriel had been still lying on his side. Her face had returned to its state of peace, and as he opened his eyes, she stood over him with her hands in a prayer position.
She remembered how Gabriel scolded her, like he was disappointed yet proud. "Just like the last ones, they're not coming back. I don't know what you do to them, but I just hope you don't kill anyone. Most of them are just young punks who need a lesson in kindness. You know that, right?"
Then, two weeks later, Gabriel had passed away as his body finally gave in to the ailments that had been destroying it within the last year. He had refused to see a doctor because he didn't want to be bothered with society looking down upon him. He had found his sanctuary in a graveyard with a stone angel who avenged the dead that he cared about preserving. When his grave had been put in the ground, no one came to honor him. He had no family but had dedicated his life to taking care of graves that no one else cared about.
After Gabriel's burial, she had taken a new perch before his small headstone. It gave her a perfect vantage point of the entire cemetery, and she was certain that was why he had chosen this particular grave for his own. He had wanted her to protect those who could not protect their own resting places, and she had more than enough chances to do that. She had wanted him to know that she never killed, but punished vandals adequately. Her groundskeeper, Gabriel, had made friends with a lonely stone angel, and it was a gesture she was certain she would never experience again. In her silence, she vowed that she would watch over him and preserve the graveyard as he had.