Tom's footsteps echoed throughout the halls, telling me he had come back. He had been gone for so long, I got impatient and bored. I ended up counting how many lanterns in the hallway that would flicker and smolder out slowly, making a game with myself to keep my busy mind distracted.

Tom had been gone so long that several of the hallway lanterns burned out. Hour by agonizing hour, they went out until there were only three left still alive. My vision was so overcome with a dizzy blur, if it wasn't for the light of the lanterns being blocked by darker colors, I would have never guessed Tom was standing there in front of me. I looked up at him with the sudden light headed feeling from my skull.

My arms desperately wanted to be let down from their restricting chains, pins and needles taking over after the cut off circulation of blood to them. My knees and legs ached, being in a kneeling position for way too long. I could feel my infection burning and my wings moved with pain. Even the slightest flap would cause me to yelp out. I was extremely exhausted too.

I don't know if he saw it too, but the feeling "horrible" was an understatement in my case. I felt as if I was being let die steadily and excruciatingly slowly.

"Came to finish me off or what?" I spat out, my tongue dry with dehydration and hunger. "I see you dressed nice for the occasion." I smiled, seeing through my poor eyesight to discover he was wearing a black and white tuxedo with matching dress shoes. Seriously, if he thought he was impressing me, he was wrong.

In my opinion, he looked like a professional jerk.

"I know you're mad, Marco, but you have to listen to me. I'm not here to torture you. Just trust me." He answered. His voice sounded muffled in my eardrums due to my pounding migraine.

I laughed softly, dropping my head again. "Why should I? I don't even know who you are anymore."

"Yes, but you know who she is." He muttered, ushering someone as if to welcome them over.

Another figure had blocked my view of the lanterns lights, another pair of feet showing up next to Tom's. It was a girl.

She walked with light, hesitant, bare feet. She was an angel, alright. Beautiful and gentle in the face that held permanent pulp pink hearts on each of her cheeks. Her hair was a heavenly gold and so was the halo hovering above her head. Her white cloud wings left a slight trail of feathers that flaked off, discarded behind her. Her skin was literally glowing with fairness and purity. Just the sight of her made my heart explode with something new that I've never felt before. Awe, hell. What was this feeling?

"Marco?" Her voice rang through my ears like the sound of a softly played, high-pitched harp. Her voice alone was the sound of the perfect remedy to a deep, dark disease. "I-is that you?"

Her blurred hand came out in front of my face as if she wanted to touch me, yet she hesitated with a great struggle. Her eyes remained gentle and soft, but shocked at the same time. That's when I remembered my own face, sharp, menacing fangs, demonic ugly eyes, and broad black stripes as the most hideous face decor.

I felt the blood rush to my face and I tilted my head away so she wouldn't have to look at me anymore. "I know. I'm a monster compared to you."

"You're a... demon." She muttered matter-of-factly. Every time she spoke, I felt my heart cry out in joy for some reason. It was like her voice was enough to make me smile, which it did.

"And you're an angel." I chuckled. By the time I lifted my head back up, I had found she was reaching her hand up towards me, going to touch the edge of my wings that were folded behind me, still numb in pain. Her fingers traced them downwards, a tickle of an angelic touch on my left wing.

She seemed curious in me, making her wide eyes over to my back. At one point, her fingers slid down to the very bottom of my wings, reaching my back. The tickle had become a full blown sting, making me wince from the hurt of my infected areas.

The whole time, Tom had been getting further and further away as if to give me and the angel girl space. He kept his hands in his dress pants' pockets and watched silently.

"Why?" The girl asked, her voice in a hushed, edged whisper. I didn't quite understand her, my head still all fuzzy.

"Huh?"

"Why did you do it, Marco?" She retried.

"Do what? Who are you and how do you know my name?" I asked, all my questions tumbling out at once now.

"Marco?" She said in a painful voice as if I had seriously upset her. "I-it's me... Star. Don't you remember?"

It must have taken me too long to think or say something because the corners of her eyes were beginning to tear up. My mouth hung open, losing my only raspy voice I had. My skull felt as if it was being crushed over an excruciating amount of time, too much to take in at once.

Star.

Star.

Dammit. Why did that name sound so familiar? I've never heard it before in my life...

Or had I?

"C'mon! Don't just stand there!" She pleaded. "Say something... anything. Please, you have to remember me."

"I-I'm sorry. I can't." I mumbled.

As if to deny the truth, she shook her head. "No. That's not true. You're not Marco."

"I don't understand..." I said.

The angel girl raised her hands out in front of her and held my face with her soothing, holy touch. "Then, let me show you."

Then, my eyes began to flutter closed until I was in a heavy, unbreakable dream.

A nightmare.