Chapter 3: The Surprise
By Jake Denton (kingcobra49036@yahoo.com)
Manhattan, New York
May 26th, 2002
3:59 AM
They glided above the city, wings flapping, hand in hand. Somehow, he found that he did not wings to be with her, up here so high, so distant in the altitude. This suited him just fine...
***********************************************************************
In the darkest hours of the night, deep in the uptown metropolitan area of Manhattan Island, in the building overlooking a the busy streets below, he slept soundly, his low melancholy snores echoing radiantly off the white walls of his plush apartment. He was asleep, deep in a state of unconsciousness that nothing could even come near to awakening him.
And he was dreaming soundly, the images in his pleasant vision dancing in his comatose mentality, the long dormant of his suppressed desires coming true in his very psyche. Deep in his dreaming state, the human smiled, pleasurably, as his love teased with him, spending a night gliding over the town, seeing all the sights. Formerly, his mate would not have desired sightseeing, but now that she had converted her lifestyle of choice, the gargoyle was delighted by everything she saw. He could hear the words spoken as though what he was dreaming was actually happening.
********************************************************************************
"Oh, Ethan, this city is beautiful..."
In his repressed state, Ethan Mueller smiled convectively. "You're beautiful, Demona..."
She smiled at him, warmly, as they flew. Ethan could barely speak as the light in her eyes shone a thousand unspoken expressions. The human male nodded nervously at his mate. "Do you want to go to the Eyrie?" he inquired, curious. The flame-haired gargoyle took a moment to think, gazing attentively at the closest skyscraper. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she focused back on him.
"No. Perhaps later."
Ethan shrugged. "Okay. Later, then." He looked away, staring as the buildings swept by him rapidly, still cupping Demona's hand as he soared. He was suddenly struck by the thought that this must have been how Peter Pan felt when he flew. That is, it would have if the character wasn't fictitious. Ethan found chuckling at this. Demona noticed.
"What is so funny?"
Ethan's humor faded and he looked at her solemnly. "Absolutely nothing. Just thinking, that's all."
"What about?"
They landed, and Ethan let go of her hand, looking her in the eyes. "Isn't it amazing how much of our lives have changed lately?" Demona looked back at him, not knowing what to say. She simply smiled a smile, a smile of kindness and devotion, that must've felt strange to her.
"Things HAVE changed, my love. I've lost my rage, I've regained my clan." She reached and gently nursed his cheek with her hand. "I've gained a true love that would never hurt me."
Instead of responding calmly, Ethan looked upset.
"Ethan, what is it?"
"You're immortal," he stated flatly. The azure gargoyle glared at him, not quite following him. She spoke hesitantly. "So? What does that have to do with us?"
"You're immortal, Demona," he echoed, his voice expressing the worry he felt. "You'll live forever. What are you going to do when one day you wake up and I'm lying next to you, stiff and stone cold like your rookery siblings were that night at Wyvern a millennium ago?"
Demona looked at him in the eyes. "I...do not know."
Ethan sighed. Suddenly something, some force from within that the human would never be able to explain, seemed to grab him and hold him there, his eyes boring into those of his mates. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He could only there stiffly, staring into eyes that suddenly seemed so unfamiliar.
"Listen to me," Demona intoned. Ethan thought he had no choice.
The gargress closed her eyes, and, in a strangely soothing voice that was not hers, began to chant.
"Flesh born of human origin
doomed to live and die,
now that you will defy.
Human shape, be one with power
And great endeavor.
Ethan Mueller, may you live now
And grow old never.
Through these words of mine,
Your youth will remain until the end of time.
Through this form, this command
I command thee, be thine never an old man."
*****************************************************************************************
Waking up violently, Ethan gasped in surprise and abject fear. Slowly, reality coming back to him, the human male looked around feverishly at his surroundings. The dream vanished, fading away rapidly, and Ethan buried his head in his hands. This had been the first time he had had a dream like that, a vision that left him full of terror.
He felt another emotion as well. But what was it?
He didn't know.
Clambering out of his bed almost drunkenly, Ethan strolled to the bathroom, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He regretted doing so almost instantly. The face staring back at him was of someone who looked haunted, rigid, almost jumpy. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was disheveled. Ethan thought with some amusement that he had definitely seen better days.
It was this perspective that made him recall his dream, how real it had been how lifelike. It had almost been more like a psychic experience then a dream. Was what he had just witnessed been something of importance in the world of the waking?
~That's impossible,~ Ethan thought somberly. ~You're getting to be like that guy on TV. That psychic. What was his name?~ Ethan frowned, trying to recall the man's name. He had heard it on a showing of the program late one night, but he had forgotten it. Now it came back to him like a flash of lightning striking suddenly in the dark sky. ~That's right! It was John Edward!~
Looking away from his grave-stricken likeness, Ethan decided he had enough of this foolishness and, after showering, got dressed, and went to work.
"And you are off-centered by this mysterious dream?" Goliath questioned him later that night, after he had gotten off work and went straight to the Eyrie building. "You are not at all certain of the validity of this experience?"
"No," Ethan answered, his voice like steel. "I am not. For all I know, it could just be a typical dream."
"One that you've had for almost two weeks now, ever since you were welcomed into our clan," Brooklyn muttered, in a "something is wrong" tone of voice. Ethan nodded at him agreeably. Goliath looked thoughtful.
"It is possible that you are having what the humans call an "extrasensory psychological vision." Elisa smirked, surprised, at her lover.
"I didn't know you knew about such things, Goliath."
The large male glanced at her, distracted by his thoughts concerning this bizarre matter. "Hudson is not the only one to watch TV when it gets dull, Elisa." He intoned mechanically.
The policewoman, not knowing quite how to respond under these circumstances, simply shrugged, and looked away. The clan leader reverted his attention span back to the quarryman turned Gargoyle sympathizer. "What else happened in the dream?" He questioned dryly.
"I...don't know," he admitted, lying through his teeth. He hated to lie to his new friends, but he did not want to put them off by telling them about the odd chant in his dreams. Doing so would very possibly be costly, and he did not want to take that chance.
Throughout this entire debate, Demona stared at her love, worried. She and Ethan had only known each other for a month now, and yet she felt as she had known his entire life. The gargress could tell when he was hiding something, shielding some section of the truth from his clan. But what was it? What was so terrible that he would hide it from the clan like this? Or from her? Demona had no clue, no real rationalization to this held-back secret, whatever it was, but she decided that that night she would stay with him, and they would talk.
She felt certain that whatever he was hiding, she would drag it out of him...
Later that night, when Ethan had driven himself home, Demona, perched on the roof of some jewelry store, watched his vehicle disappear down the main street of the city, and flared her wings, leaping off the tall structure, and headed in his direction. She was going to go to his house, and try to help him come to terms with what was going on, whatever the hell it was. He needed a friend right now, and Demona knew deep inside that she was the best person to talk to him right now.
She followed...
***********************************************************************************************
Ethan sighed miserably as he drove. His instincts had convinced him that holding back information from his clan had been the right thing to do, the vital thing. But his heart had eternally damned him for it. The ex-quarryman had no idea which he should listen to: his instincts, which had helped him survive this city his entire life, or his heart, which had never steered him wrong? He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the red light above change to green until the angry driver behind him blared a horn.
"Keep moving, retard!" The man shouted. "I've got things to do!"
~Gonna have to remember to kick his ass later,~ Ethan mused, forcing an amused grin away from the surface of his face. There was no time for cheap thrills at the expense of another motorist. Besides, the old Ethan Mueller, the part of him that LOVED hurting and attacking others, was long dead and gone. In fact, the old Ethan seemed almost like a twin brother that, upon meeting the gargoyles and befriending them, had become stillborn almost instantly.
Thinking that way brought Ethan's mind back to the events of the day, and he sighed again, his shoulders in silent misery as he turned down the road that led towards his building. He would have a good rest after the long day he had had, and maybe he would re-visit the clan after work tomorrow. Parking the car, Ethan got out and stepped lightly, almost gliding, onto the sidewalk. He was almost to his apartment door, key in his hand, ready to retire for the night, when someone touched his shoulder.
Ethan gave a start and spun around, expecting an attacker.
But it was only Demona. His love.
"Ethan..." she bit her lip, hesitatingly. "Could we converse?"
Ethan opened his door, allowing her to walk in first, before he followed her, shutting the door behind him.
As soon as she was seated comfortably in his sofa, Demona shifted her curious gaze at her mate. "Ethan, what is going on?" He looked startled be her question, but quickly tried to look innocent.
"What do you mean?"
She sighed. Why was he playing this game? She knew as well as he did he was keeping something hidden from her, from Goliath, from the entire clan. She made her response straight and simple. Demona shot from the hip. "You deliberately left some parts out in your conversation with Goliath."
Ethan's shoulders slumped. He had been afraid of this topic from rising. Now it had, and he could do nothing but be straightforwardly honest with her. "Demona, I...I..."
"You're what?" Demona inquired, suddenly afraid of what he might say.
"I'm immortal."
NEXT TIME ON "CHANGES":
"Immortal?" Demona whispered, almost breathlessly in the darkness. "How is that possible?"
Ethan sighed, mentally kicking himself for his cowardly behavior. "I don't know. It just happened in my dream."
"What did?"
He swallowed before continuing with his next words. "Demona, in the dream, I was with you. We were hanging out, having fun. Suddenly, you just chanted something...odd. I can't remember what it was, but when I woke up, I felt like somebody had scared the crap out of me. This morning, before work, I was getting into my car, and a guy had tried to rob me outside of my car."
Demona kept her eyes trained on him. "Go on."
"When I told him I had no money, he became merciless. Insane, almost. He slashed my throat with a large knife he had, and ran off. I felt so certain I was going to die. There was so much blood."
Demona looked sickened, but implored him to continue.
"I think I DID die, in a sense, but then I came to, and there was no blood. I mean, yes, there was blood. On the street, and some on my car. The wound had rapidly healed as well. I know. I checked in the rearview mirror. What should have been a nasty slit from ear to ear was nothing more then a small scratch. Like a scar."
"But that's impossible," Demona breathed.
"I know it is, but Demona... After that happened, I keep thinking that absolutely nothing can kill me now..."
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And I also hope you will love the upcoming chapter 4. I don't have a name for it yet, but rest assured, it will have a lot more surprises! Stay tuned!
kingcobra49036@yahoo.com
By Jake Denton (kingcobra49036@yahoo.com)
Manhattan, New York
May 26th, 2002
3:59 AM
They glided above the city, wings flapping, hand in hand. Somehow, he found that he did not wings to be with her, up here so high, so distant in the altitude. This suited him just fine...
***********************************************************************
In the darkest hours of the night, deep in the uptown metropolitan area of Manhattan Island, in the building overlooking a the busy streets below, he slept soundly, his low melancholy snores echoing radiantly off the white walls of his plush apartment. He was asleep, deep in a state of unconsciousness that nothing could even come near to awakening him.
And he was dreaming soundly, the images in his pleasant vision dancing in his comatose mentality, the long dormant of his suppressed desires coming true in his very psyche. Deep in his dreaming state, the human smiled, pleasurably, as his love teased with him, spending a night gliding over the town, seeing all the sights. Formerly, his mate would not have desired sightseeing, but now that she had converted her lifestyle of choice, the gargoyle was delighted by everything she saw. He could hear the words spoken as though what he was dreaming was actually happening.
********************************************************************************
"Oh, Ethan, this city is beautiful..."
In his repressed state, Ethan Mueller smiled convectively. "You're beautiful, Demona..."
She smiled at him, warmly, as they flew. Ethan could barely speak as the light in her eyes shone a thousand unspoken expressions. The human male nodded nervously at his mate. "Do you want to go to the Eyrie?" he inquired, curious. The flame-haired gargoyle took a moment to think, gazing attentively at the closest skyscraper. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she focused back on him.
"No. Perhaps later."
Ethan shrugged. "Okay. Later, then." He looked away, staring as the buildings swept by him rapidly, still cupping Demona's hand as he soared. He was suddenly struck by the thought that this must have been how Peter Pan felt when he flew. That is, it would have if the character wasn't fictitious. Ethan found chuckling at this. Demona noticed.
"What is so funny?"
Ethan's humor faded and he looked at her solemnly. "Absolutely nothing. Just thinking, that's all."
"What about?"
They landed, and Ethan let go of her hand, looking her in the eyes. "Isn't it amazing how much of our lives have changed lately?" Demona looked back at him, not knowing what to say. She simply smiled a smile, a smile of kindness and devotion, that must've felt strange to her.
"Things HAVE changed, my love. I've lost my rage, I've regained my clan." She reached and gently nursed his cheek with her hand. "I've gained a true love that would never hurt me."
Instead of responding calmly, Ethan looked upset.
"Ethan, what is it?"
"You're immortal," he stated flatly. The azure gargoyle glared at him, not quite following him. She spoke hesitantly. "So? What does that have to do with us?"
"You're immortal, Demona," he echoed, his voice expressing the worry he felt. "You'll live forever. What are you going to do when one day you wake up and I'm lying next to you, stiff and stone cold like your rookery siblings were that night at Wyvern a millennium ago?"
Demona looked at him in the eyes. "I...do not know."
Ethan sighed. Suddenly something, some force from within that the human would never be able to explain, seemed to grab him and hold him there, his eyes boring into those of his mates. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He could only there stiffly, staring into eyes that suddenly seemed so unfamiliar.
"Listen to me," Demona intoned. Ethan thought he had no choice.
The gargress closed her eyes, and, in a strangely soothing voice that was not hers, began to chant.
"Flesh born of human origin
doomed to live and die,
now that you will defy.
Human shape, be one with power
And great endeavor.
Ethan Mueller, may you live now
And grow old never.
Through these words of mine,
Your youth will remain until the end of time.
Through this form, this command
I command thee, be thine never an old man."
*****************************************************************************************
Waking up violently, Ethan gasped in surprise and abject fear. Slowly, reality coming back to him, the human male looked around feverishly at his surroundings. The dream vanished, fading away rapidly, and Ethan buried his head in his hands. This had been the first time he had had a dream like that, a vision that left him full of terror.
He felt another emotion as well. But what was it?
He didn't know.
Clambering out of his bed almost drunkenly, Ethan strolled to the bathroom, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He regretted doing so almost instantly. The face staring back at him was of someone who looked haunted, rigid, almost jumpy. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was disheveled. Ethan thought with some amusement that he had definitely seen better days.
It was this perspective that made him recall his dream, how real it had been how lifelike. It had almost been more like a psychic experience then a dream. Was what he had just witnessed been something of importance in the world of the waking?
~That's impossible,~ Ethan thought somberly. ~You're getting to be like that guy on TV. That psychic. What was his name?~ Ethan frowned, trying to recall the man's name. He had heard it on a showing of the program late one night, but he had forgotten it. Now it came back to him like a flash of lightning striking suddenly in the dark sky. ~That's right! It was John Edward!~
Looking away from his grave-stricken likeness, Ethan decided he had enough of this foolishness and, after showering, got dressed, and went to work.
"And you are off-centered by this mysterious dream?" Goliath questioned him later that night, after he had gotten off work and went straight to the Eyrie building. "You are not at all certain of the validity of this experience?"
"No," Ethan answered, his voice like steel. "I am not. For all I know, it could just be a typical dream."
"One that you've had for almost two weeks now, ever since you were welcomed into our clan," Brooklyn muttered, in a "something is wrong" tone of voice. Ethan nodded at him agreeably. Goliath looked thoughtful.
"It is possible that you are having what the humans call an "extrasensory psychological vision." Elisa smirked, surprised, at her lover.
"I didn't know you knew about such things, Goliath."
The large male glanced at her, distracted by his thoughts concerning this bizarre matter. "Hudson is not the only one to watch TV when it gets dull, Elisa." He intoned mechanically.
The policewoman, not knowing quite how to respond under these circumstances, simply shrugged, and looked away. The clan leader reverted his attention span back to the quarryman turned Gargoyle sympathizer. "What else happened in the dream?" He questioned dryly.
"I...don't know," he admitted, lying through his teeth. He hated to lie to his new friends, but he did not want to put them off by telling them about the odd chant in his dreams. Doing so would very possibly be costly, and he did not want to take that chance.
Throughout this entire debate, Demona stared at her love, worried. She and Ethan had only known each other for a month now, and yet she felt as she had known his entire life. The gargress could tell when he was hiding something, shielding some section of the truth from his clan. But what was it? What was so terrible that he would hide it from the clan like this? Or from her? Demona had no clue, no real rationalization to this held-back secret, whatever it was, but she decided that that night she would stay with him, and they would talk.
She felt certain that whatever he was hiding, she would drag it out of him...
Later that night, when Ethan had driven himself home, Demona, perched on the roof of some jewelry store, watched his vehicle disappear down the main street of the city, and flared her wings, leaping off the tall structure, and headed in his direction. She was going to go to his house, and try to help him come to terms with what was going on, whatever the hell it was. He needed a friend right now, and Demona knew deep inside that she was the best person to talk to him right now.
She followed...
***********************************************************************************************
Ethan sighed miserably as he drove. His instincts had convinced him that holding back information from his clan had been the right thing to do, the vital thing. But his heart had eternally damned him for it. The ex-quarryman had no idea which he should listen to: his instincts, which had helped him survive this city his entire life, or his heart, which had never steered him wrong? He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the red light above change to green until the angry driver behind him blared a horn.
"Keep moving, retard!" The man shouted. "I've got things to do!"
~Gonna have to remember to kick his ass later,~ Ethan mused, forcing an amused grin away from the surface of his face. There was no time for cheap thrills at the expense of another motorist. Besides, the old Ethan Mueller, the part of him that LOVED hurting and attacking others, was long dead and gone. In fact, the old Ethan seemed almost like a twin brother that, upon meeting the gargoyles and befriending them, had become stillborn almost instantly.
Thinking that way brought Ethan's mind back to the events of the day, and he sighed again, his shoulders in silent misery as he turned down the road that led towards his building. He would have a good rest after the long day he had had, and maybe he would re-visit the clan after work tomorrow. Parking the car, Ethan got out and stepped lightly, almost gliding, onto the sidewalk. He was almost to his apartment door, key in his hand, ready to retire for the night, when someone touched his shoulder.
Ethan gave a start and spun around, expecting an attacker.
But it was only Demona. His love.
"Ethan..." she bit her lip, hesitatingly. "Could we converse?"
Ethan opened his door, allowing her to walk in first, before he followed her, shutting the door behind him.
As soon as she was seated comfortably in his sofa, Demona shifted her curious gaze at her mate. "Ethan, what is going on?" He looked startled be her question, but quickly tried to look innocent.
"What do you mean?"
She sighed. Why was he playing this game? She knew as well as he did he was keeping something hidden from her, from Goliath, from the entire clan. She made her response straight and simple. Demona shot from the hip. "You deliberately left some parts out in your conversation with Goliath."
Ethan's shoulders slumped. He had been afraid of this topic from rising. Now it had, and he could do nothing but be straightforwardly honest with her. "Demona, I...I..."
"You're what?" Demona inquired, suddenly afraid of what he might say.
"I'm immortal."
NEXT TIME ON "CHANGES":
"Immortal?" Demona whispered, almost breathlessly in the darkness. "How is that possible?"
Ethan sighed, mentally kicking himself for his cowardly behavior. "I don't know. It just happened in my dream."
"What did?"
He swallowed before continuing with his next words. "Demona, in the dream, I was with you. We were hanging out, having fun. Suddenly, you just chanted something...odd. I can't remember what it was, but when I woke up, I felt like somebody had scared the crap out of me. This morning, before work, I was getting into my car, and a guy had tried to rob me outside of my car."
Demona kept her eyes trained on him. "Go on."
"When I told him I had no money, he became merciless. Insane, almost. He slashed my throat with a large knife he had, and ran off. I felt so certain I was going to die. There was so much blood."
Demona looked sickened, but implored him to continue.
"I think I DID die, in a sense, but then I came to, and there was no blood. I mean, yes, there was blood. On the street, and some on my car. The wound had rapidly healed as well. I know. I checked in the rearview mirror. What should have been a nasty slit from ear to ear was nothing more then a small scratch. Like a scar."
"But that's impossible," Demona breathed.
"I know it is, but Demona... After that happened, I keep thinking that absolutely nothing can kill me now..."
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And I also hope you will love the upcoming chapter 4. I don't have a name for it yet, but rest assured, it will have a lot more surprises! Stay tuned!
kingcobra49036@yahoo.com