A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS *hugs everyone* Yeah... I sat down and wrote the plot last night... ^_^ Hehe, I like this story now!!!!!! Well, anyhoo, I'm blabbing and I feel like writing so... R&R!!!!

BTW, if you think I own Santa Clause (1 or 2), I will be inclined to ask you if you have been smoking.

Haunting Angels
chapter 2

Please, please excuse us! Move along dearie! Please make room! these were some of the phrases Scott shouted across the room. In a few seconds, every elf had jumped to the side so they could get a better glimpse of what was going on. And soon, many found themselves wishing they hadn't been so curious.

All of them liked Bernard. He was a very strong elf, phisically and mentally. That was why the sight before them disturbed them, and even made some of the younger elves shed tears. Almost every mouth hung open in twisted shock.

Bernard looked hardly himself. He was clinging to Santa for dear life, stumbling across the hall. The big man even had to hold onto the elf, for he slipped often. Dried blood was all over his hands and a single streak of the red, almost like a tear, had made its path down his left cheek from a particularily gruesome looking cut. His eyes were nearly closed, and his breath came in raggid gasps.

WHAT'S GOING ON?! a voice made all of them jump, and everyone spun around to see Curtis standing on the second story balcony.

I SWEAR, IF BERNARD CATCHES YOU... he cut off suddenly, his face twisting into horror.

This made everyone swivel back around, and the room exploded with gasps and a few shrieks. Curtis had startled them all, and in spinning around, Santa had forgotten to steady Bernard. All of them were shocked to see his eyes roll back into his head before he slumped to the floor.

a tiny elf screamed, and as if that had been a trigger, almost every elf shot forward to help.

STAND BACK! the Big Guy shouted so loud that all of them froze in their places. Sighing heavily, Santa knealt down and picked up the elf like a little child. He looked so frail... so helpless... so vulnerable! That was enough to make any worker's blood run cold... just seeing their Head Elf in that condition... Everyone imediately cleared the path for Santa, each of them silently praying for Bernard. However, only the eldest of them remembered ever seeing Bernard like that before...

~*~

Elijah sat alone in a room, his torso tied to the back of a chair and wrists bound behind that. Blood stained much of his face and all down his clothes. His clothes were tattered, torn completely away in some places.

I'm going to die here... he told himself, the first words he had spoken aloud in days, and it made him wince in pain as he moved his swollen, black and blue face. His eyes brimmed with tears, adding to the constant flow of the pain that built up inside him and leaked out his eyes. Closing his eyes, he remembered leaving his house.

Now Lacey, kiss your brother good-bye! his mother scolded and the spunky, green-eyed, jet-black haired girl spun around. She was two years younger than her brother and liked nothing more than to annoy him.

Bye, Eli, she sneered at the name he hated to be called before grabbing his wrist and yanking him down with a jolt. She pecked him on the cheek and then shoved him so he stumbled back into the wall.

Sheesh, I'll miss you too! Elijah cried, exasperated, as he caught his balance.

Well, she is only eight! his mother laughed, making Lacey stick out her tongue before turning and sprinting from the room. Now, I want you to look nice for your relatives... she began straightening his clothes, making him roll his eyes. Also, I want you to have this, Elijah's eyes widened at her open palm. In it lay a green barette, making him grin. Barette's weren't his favorite by any means, and green certainely wasn't his favorite color, but he grinned anyway. He loved it when his mother tried to get him stuff. She always did try to be there for him in every way, which is why he greately accepted it as a token of her efforts.

Have a good time! she called after him as he ran out the door, clipping it into his hair.

Bye Mum! Bye Dad! Bye Freak-I'm-Not-Related-To! he stuck his tongue out at his sister before sprinting down the road.

Elijah wondered to himself... those were the last words he ever said to his family. If only he had known, he would have come up with something so much greater. He thought of the barette that now lay in his pocket, as he had taken it off as soon as he was out of his mother's sight.

I'll never see them again... he spoke again, hanging his head as his shoulder shook with painful sobs.

No, you won't, his eyes slowly opened and the tears seemed to freeze on his face. It wasn't the gruff voice he had grown so used to that spoke. It was a soft, female voice that sounded as sweet as honey and as melidous as heaven, making him slowly lift his head. Nothing before in his entire life could have prepared him for what he saw.

An angel... he spoke involuntarily when he saw the figure before him. In the dark room, her near-white skin gave of a tiny glow, giving her a heavenly aura. She wore a red, sleeveless shirt that went down to her mid thighs, tied with a small, black ribbon. From underneath came a red skirt, cutting off at her ankles to expose her bare feet. Her short, red hair blew on an imaginary breeze, dangling in her shining, green eyes.

Angel... maybe, she told him, her voice kind. She blinked, and when her eyes reopened, they had a sorrowful, concerned look. I'm sorry, Elijah. You are forever dead to your family.

This is heaven, then... or maybe its hell... he looked around painfully.

No. You are not in heaven, she shook her head sadly before tipping it down. But your family is.

Elijah's mouth hung open in twisted shock. He opened and closed it frequently, but the words wouldn't come. He pictured his mother's shining face, his father's wise yet kind face, his sister's sneer and then her laughter. He couldn't possibly imagine those three having life torn from them... he couldn't imagine their faces with no life behind them. It couldn't be true...

What happened? he finally managed, hanging his head and bracing for the truth.

They will be murdered when you leave, she spoke strangely, making Elijah wonder. He didn't understand.

What do you mean? Oh god, please let me go! I have to warn them... please help me! Don't let me die here, he pleaded, tears once again trickling down his face.

I'm sorry. I can't set you free. I may only return to you when you truly need my help, she told him.

But... I need your help... they'll kill me... Elijah tried, but she hung her own head sadly. Then, with a small smile, she floated forward and hovered only inches from his face.

I promise, I will return to you. Just don't give up hope... don't forget who you are, Elijah, for that will truly kill you forever, she told him. She ran her fingertips along his face and then, to his utmost shock, she leaned forward and kissed him. He blinked in surprise, but by the time he had reopened his eyes, she was gone.

However, the pain in his cheek where she touched it had stopped and was replaced with a strange warmth. From where their lips had met, the same warmth spread throughout his whole body, giving his strength.

An Angel... he thought again to himself. Then, he smiled. A Red Angel.

~*~

Elijah lay in a pool of crimson... his own blood. His entire body burned with the fire that had been stolen from his eyes, which were slowly fading into dull pools. He would drop into a light unconciousness, but be reawakened by a swift kick to his stomach that made him cringe in pain as he cried out, or a whack with something over his head. Finally, as he lay on his stomach, staring straight ahead with dull eyes, they left him to die. He dropped out again, but was reawakened but a strange touch.

Red... Angel... he managed before choking on his own blood. He was in her arms, he knew, yet he barely had enough strength to lean his head back on her arm and open his eyes. He was surprised to see that her green ones were filled with tears.

Elijah... don't give in! she tried, but he couldn't even find the strength to reply. He began coughing up blood again instead. This made The Red Angel shut her eyes as tears danced away from them before pulling him into an embrace, wrapping first her arms around him and then giant, feather wings that hadn't been there before. Where every tear fell, a bit of him would heal, but there were just too many wounds and not enough tears...

~*~

Angel... The Red Angel... Curtis watched the first-in-command elf toss and turn with enourmous concern, worry painted on his face. Sweat beads ran down Bernard's face, and the occasional tear. What distrubed him, though, was that every time he said The Red Angel', or something like it, the wound on his face would shed one more drop of blood, yet with every drop, the wound became smaller.

Bernard suddenly cried and with a single pop, the gruesome cut on his cheek vanished. At his word, he had flung his eyes open and sat up, clutching his chest and breathing hard. Then, with an anguished cry, he practically tore the green berette out of his hair. Curtis had noted to himself that Bernard would never let anyone else handle the berette... it was always either in his hair or his pocket, never far from him. Now, it lay in his open palm. He stared at it a moment, more tears brimming in his eyes before he cried out again, closed both hands upon it and brought them back up to his chest as he broke down into horrible, wailing sobs.

Curtis was rather frightened by this, and truly didn't know what to say. Gathering up a lot of his courage, he took a deep breath and gently touched Bernard's shoulder. At the contact, the elf's sobbing stopped imediately and he slowly opened is eyes.

Curtis asked in a worried tone, but the name had a surprising effect. The Head Elf jerked his head towards Curtis, his jaw hanging open in shock and, though Curtis didn't know, self disgust.

he murmured. My name... Bernard...

I-I was wondering if you wanted anything... er... Curtis replied, but Bernard hardly noticed. He was staring at the green berette again. Again, tears sprung to his deep pools of brown, and he began to quiver.

Just don't give up hope... don't forget who you are, Elijah, for that will truly kill you forever, The Red Angel's words replayed themselves in his head.

I'm sorry... I've forgotten... he whispered to himself, shutting his eyes as his greif consumed him.

Curtis asked, thouroughly confused. Suddenly, with a cry, Bernard flung his arms around Curtis and sobbed into his shoulder. Rather shocked (who could blame him?), Curtis blinked a few times, stared at Bernard, then patted him awkwardly.

I'm sorry... I lied... I tried to forget... he murmured. And then, as quickly as he had embraced the second-in-command, his body became limp and he slumped off Curtis's shoulder and onto the floor where he lay still.

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A/N: So, how'd ya like the second chap. Actually, it was mostly used just to add background info. Next chap, the real story picks up. I have the plot... I hope you guys like it!! REVIEW!!!!! ^_^