Order 44: The Crying Angel
Malakai's hideout. 11:00 P.M.
Cold. Dark. Those were the only words Skey could muse for this clausterphobic coffin of Malakai's. There she lay next to his cold, sleeping body, pondering about the decision she crudely made. there was something about being at the side of a vampire that seemed...invigorating. To know you have a sensual, mysterious man at your side to worship you and dote upon you eternal love. Malakai's motions with her were fluid-like, light and seductive. Vampires were one creature women found hard to resist due to their sexual hypnotition. Once a woman's eyes met theirs, There was no going back to your routine life. You from that point become enveloped into their possession. The flowing speculations rippled apart as a chuckle echoed within the small coffin.
" My dear, you think like a gothic romance writer."
Those cold fingers grasped her chin with such flowery tenderness, tilting her head to the nothingness of the coffin's night. Cold lips had found her warm, succulent ones in short time. Refusion was futile and unwanted as Skey pressed into it, entranced with the dark, lustful moment. A soliloquy of the deepest feelings coursed through Skey's complex mind. The vampire she was kissing didn't matter not a fig. What really bothers me is my betrayal. Yes, I have betrayed the Vatican, turned my back on it but only because it did so to me first. yet, being here and running away only proves them right about their convictions. I shouldn't be here, but I am and kissing with lust upon the enemy, the vampire. He knows pains true enough, but not the pain I have undergone myself. Only one person has truly tried helping me better my life and to make the best out of it. Dawning on the memories and letting their demons possess me never makes one feel right.
The Sistine Chapel. 7:00 A.M. Wednesday.
Solemn faces poured into the chapel so beautifully painted by the legendary Micheangelo. For a room so full of color, beauty and art these melancholy faces disrupted the art itself, making it seem more scornful than inviting. The hundreds of Iscariot agents emptied into this chapel and took their seats before the Pope himself. Among these grave faces drained of blood from fear, was Father Anderson himself. Unlike the rest of them, Anderson had his own demons to attend to after this little session. Those around him stirred great animosity within the pit of his stomach.They doubted God and now they flock under his symbol to beg for protection. Only the faithful are protected ye cowards...None O' ye deserve tae be in this division O' the Vatican aif ye show nae faith in God Himself. Everyone bowed their heads in unison under a Cardinal's raise of hands. The frail man dressed in gold and white garb made his way to the microphone slowly.
" My dear children...please, do not look so pale on this day. Though as troubling it may be to young minds, letting that trouble cloud your judgement can sum up your unfair death. God smiled upon you today as you go to wage war with one of humanity's darkest enemies. Do not lose faith even in the darkest hour of battle! Look up to the Heavens...remember the Kingdom. You lot do so much, take so much blame...a truly dirty job it is to come face to face with heathens, vampires and beasts, to feel their breath, their stench of evil upon your skin...then the time that comes you spill their blood. Never has a battle been brought to the Vatican itself in this fashion. Do not fret...Belief in Him and our capabilities he's granted you is all you will need in the heat of war."
Anderson sat there on that laquered, wooden pew and absorbed the words of the Pope. In his pocket, resting in his hand, was the cross Skey had thrown back at him. His strong fingers curled tightly into the crevices of the metallic symbol, his eyes shutting tightly to seal away his emotions.
Maxwell sat in the back alone and had his head bowed. The Pope started reading from the Bible a prayer to protect them all against what was about to become tonight. Maxwell paid no attention to it, becoming lost in his own rapid river of thoughts. He sat so still on the pew, arms tightly crossed over his small chest. His head faced down to the ground, everything else absent from keen sight. All of this could have been prevented. To accept Skey into their exclusive arms brought on this vampire Malakai...but it was Anderson's fault that chased her away letting her presence become absent from the Vatican and its authority.
Guest Room. 7:30 A.M.
Light had been exempted by heavy, drawn drapes apart from the soft peach glow of a table lamp.. Alucard sat at the oak table, tapping his gloved fingertips rhythmically. The side of his head rested against a tight fist, his lips turned down into a scowl. Twelve hours was far too long of a wait. Anxiety itched his contained pleasure. He knew Seras didn't feel the same way as he did about this confrontation. In fact, he knew Seras rather stay out of it. Course, this was Alucard's thought as well. Why should they be dragged into Vatican affairs? The only bribe that worked was the sealed promise of strong foe. At those words did Alucard ever come to a close on a decision.
" So close, yet so far...Police Girl!"
The blonde haired girl's attention snapped onto her master. The gorgeous yet innocent eyes of red blinked, having been roused from her own introspective. She'd been sitting atop her coffin, hunched over with her chin in her hands. Now she sat up straight, eyes focused on none other than her Master Alucard.
" Yes, Master?"
" I can gather you haven't slept, Police Girl. I advise you to do so before the battle. I do not need you to be working on half your strength like usual."
True...Seras had came back in last night to try to catch sleep, but only laid awake in her coffin, fibers of her extrodinary muscles quavering from fear and superfluous expectations. A tightening in her lips showed alucard right. He smirked witht hat infamous curve before standing up.
" That's an order, Police Girl."
" I wish not to right now. I am fine."
The minor yet clear defiance wiped Alucard's face clean. Though her eyes stayed down, obedient and shamed, still she defied him. Never has anyone defied an order without staying alive. But, he took pity and nodded towards her, letting do as she pleased then.
" Fine. Have it your own way just do not falter in battle, Police Girl."
Seras cast her eyes on Alucard in alarm. She'd been ready for a lecture yet he only let her off easy. If truth be told, she really cared for her master a lot and wished he would in return despite the rules betwee fledglings and masters. Before she was able to speak a word, he disappeared into the wall to go on his routine wanderings of the Vatican. Seras settled and stood, walking around the room with restless legs. No way she could rest with the pressure becoming heavier with each passing second.
Skey's Room. 8:00 A.M.
The door creaked open with an ominous air. Heavy boots resounded against the floor. The room was just as Skey left it. Slightly messy but besides, in order. Being here felt taboo to Anderson. Though Skey was gone, coming into this room made his skin feel, his mind feel as if she was in this room with him. Turning around the short corridor into her room, he imagined to see her standing by her nightstand looking at herself in the mirror or maybe in bed reading a book or sleeping. Once he turned that corner, nothingness. With a sigh, he stood straight, letting no emotion radiate from his face. with hands in pockets, he surveyed the empty room. A sense hit him Alucard may be watching from behind him. Anderson turned to see only the empty corridor welcome him. With a sigh of annoyance, he dropped the suspicion. With Alucard coming into his room that one night had set a level of paranoia higher than usual. Though Anderson was coming to terms with his true emotions, he was still quick to guard them from onlookers. The room's air was a bit chilled to Anderson's taste. He took a seat upon Skey's empty bed. Anderson blinked as he felt something flat and hard under him. He jumped up and pulled the covers back. The covers furled with thick noise as they fell to the floor. A leather bound journal presented itself as the culprit. The tickling sense to read it came to mind. With a glance to the right then a glance to the left, he settled back down on the bed and took the light colored journal into his hands. All of Skey's thoughts, secrets and opinions were held within this leather journal. To read it would be like reading Skey's mind and perceiving her personality. With a gulp and hesitation of the hand, he pulled the string apart and untied the simple bow.
" Ah shouldnae...but...gi'en the circumstances..."
Accuiting his silly scruples, he flipped open the journal. Thousands of words all in such articulate, beautiful handwriting were presented before sight. Dates back to when she first came to the Vatican started the large journal. Quickly he flipped to her last entry to see what she had to say.
I'm tired of playing these games of masquerade. All I do every day now is act stuck up, proud and brave. I walk the halls with heavy step, flaunt my boastings and mock others...but truthfully, I do this as a mask. I let everyone see a fake confidence and strut, but do not let them see the cracks in my fragile heart. The only one that has ever seen those cracks is Father Anderson. When I think about it, I don't even think I have shown Yumie a lot of my troubles...maybe one or two but...I guess I try not to worry her too much. As for Maxwell, dear God, he'll be the last man on this planet to ever know any more about me than what he knows! If I were to tell him as much as I told Anderson, Maxwell would surely try to find me a ticket out of the Vatican and back to the streets. He feels no compassion for others but himself. You would get more information out of talking to a brick wall! It seems all he ever does is single me out whenever he gets the chance. Anything that goes wrong, those eyes of his travel and fall upon me before all else. I can't be blamed for all the calamities that happen in this place! Yet he sees it perfectly justifiable scapegoating me! It's like the newest and youngest person is always to blame for anything. I wish for the worst to strike him one day.
Anyways, it's getting late for me. I should be resting anyhow. One day I am going to show them all. One day, I am going to razzle them and take them all breathless. I don't know when or how, but I feel it in the deepest reserves of my heart, that I shall. And then maybe, I can squeeze some kind of respect out of them. And maybe even I can impress Anderson even more and make him feel proud from raising a good student. Right now, he is the only person I cling on for support and the only person I come to when I feel sad. I could never do that with anyone else, even Yumie.
The last parts of the paragraph caught the breath in Anderson's strong throat. She spoke of him as this positive role model and the only person she could ever consult to without feeling awkward or fearful. The journal was snapped closed and the straps retied. Anderson laid back on her bed, placing his hands behind his head. It was too late for apologies now. Skey had ran off to the enemy and from that look of pure animosity she had doted upon him the last he'd seen her, he couldn't possibly fathom an idea of how to convert her. When Skey got that look, it was hard to persuade her from the intentions she had. Anderson's head rolled onto one hand only, his eyes casted upon the pillows at the front of the bed. A small indention of where Skey's head had laid last was still visible.
" Stupid me...Ah got ma wish...and noo Ah regret it. Ah really didnae meen...for Skey tae really...become non-existent. Whit hae Ah done?"
A answer from above wasn't needed. Answering himself, Anderson quietly whispered in a melancholy tone.
" Ah messed up, thas whit Ah've done."
Outside, not even the birds sang this morning. The gray curtain of bumpy fabric laid over the sky thickly. The angels' tears had soaked the fabric so much that it leaked through, falling to the ground in grief. And with them, cried an angel himself, no matter how blood-stained his hands and pure wings had become over the decades.
