Pretty thick stuff that happens here. Did I say the action would begin at Chapter 6? SORRY I LIED. Here is where you might want to pay attention. Short chapter, but actually a lot happens. Might want to get your tissue box. Or not.

Chapter Seven: Angel Fallen

Bang.

Why?

Why must you do this to us?

To come back…

And then to say farewell.

Why come back…?

"Joerfin…"

Joe pressed his fingers against the glass, right in front of where Ruflorrin had placed her hands. He was shaking violently, crying, and yet not crying at the same time. There was a line that he had crossed, a line that divided the tears of grief and pure grief on its own. It was to the point where tears would do nothing for him. All he could do was kneel in front of the mirror and wait for his shaking to subside.

"I'm sorry." Ruflorrin kneeled down to meet Joe and looked at him with a gaze so intense she seemed to be looking inside him. "But as there are encounters…so there are farewells… Joerfin, you must move on. Never forget…never leave behind…but never stay imprisoned by what you allow to bind you to the ground. Your wings, though broken, will one day mend. And what will you do? Stay bound and refuse to fly?"

"I know…I…know…" Joe replied, his voice breaking. "But…Ruflorrin…how could you possibly understand?"

"I do. I lost my parents to a group of murderers long ago. But I am here. This is what I have made with my life. I will never forget them. But I cannot stay in the past. I have moved on. So will you, Joerfin…you must."

"Stellen, why…?" whispered Joe, closing his eyes and pressing his palms against the ground. "Why did you have to go…why did you have to bring that with you…why did you have to press the trigger? I was watching you…and you saw me…yet…why?"

"There are questions only the One can answer, Joerfin."

"Why did the One let him die, then?" cried Joe suddenly. "Why couldn't he have saved him?"

"The One gives free will to all. What they choose to do with their life, every second, every minute, every hour, every day, is completely up to them. The One can only watch over us and hold the balance of the Universe. We do what we wish, Joerfin."

"Stop calling me that."

"But that is who you are." Ruflorrin took a step back. "Soon, Legion will call for you again. There is a destiny that awaits you. A destiny greater than what you could have possibly imagined. Whether you take the call is up to you. But it is there, waiting."

There was a knock on the door. Joe looked instinctively to his right and shouted, "I'm coming!" Then he looked back at Ruflorrin. "There's…someone at the door…"

"That's fine, Joerfin. That's just fine." Ruflorrin's voice seemed disappointed although her face gave away nothing. "I will see you soon, Joerfin."

Joe rushed to the door and opened it.

There stood Lee.

"…What is it?" he asked, slightly exasperated. The last thing he needed was some clownster cracking jokes at him. Not now…

"Your mom's out, so I figured I'd keep you company." There was no characteristic smile on Lee's face. Only sympathy.

"Oh…come in." Joe stepped aside and allowed Lee into the house.

"I'm sorry about what happened," said Lee blankly. "I really am. There's not much I can say to you, but I wish things had turned out differently."

Joe tried hard to conceal his emotions. Truly, he appreciated Lee's visiting and he really did enjoy having some company, especially during a time like this. There was nothing wrong with his best friend coming over to say hi while his mother was away arranging a funeral that would take place soon.

Yet he hated him for it. An inexplicable hate welled up in his heart that formed into an arrow and fired itself at Lee. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to suffer alone. He was strong enough to make it through this without anyone's help.

He wanted blood on his hands.

Joe licked his lips, feeling an old thirst return to him. He wished he could satisfy it.

Time seemed to slug by. Joe sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands, while Lee sat next to him. Neither said a word.

It was only when the sun was beginning to dip into the horizon that Lee said, "I think my parents will be expecting me back. Joe…I'll be seeing you tomorrow, I guess. Please take care. I'll be online tonight, if you…if you want to talk. Until then?"

"Until then," Joe replied, his voice hollow.

As soon as Lee was out the door, Joe rushed into his bedroom and grabbed the list of names from atop his bed. Taking a bright red pen, he scrawled messily across it in large letters.

LEE.

How could it possibly be wrong if I don't feel like it? Nothing is wrong unless your conscience tells you, and is it not in your spirit that you feel guilty? Where does guilt come from? It comes from your soul, your mind, your inner conscience, telling you that you have committed evil.

But I feel no guilt from this. I only feel pleasure…inexplicable pleasure… I feel as if I'm truly alive. I do not live until then…that is when I am most alive, when the fire in my spirit burns bright. It is who I am. Take it away from me, and I wither into nothing but a shell. It is what I must live on. My livelihood.

How, then, could you consider it to be wrong? How, then, is it a sin?

The moon shined bright in the skies. He could hear the soft breaths of his mother as she slept. He looked at the knife and a small smile crept across his face. Tonight, my love, you will dine on live flesh and warm blood.

He crept upstairs and slid open the slide door that led into his backyard. All was quiet. The light of the full moon reflected off his eyes and hair and gave them a strange, ghostly white color. With half of the light blocked off by a rather large tree, half of his face was bathed in the starlight and the other half was in black shadow.

He didn't waste a minute. As quick as he could, he crossed the yard and then took a running leap over the fence and landed, gingerly placing a hand on the wet grass to steady his balance and prevent himself from making a loud noise from the landing. He looked up and froze like an animal hiding from a predator, and then he moved again.

"No, I still can't believe you died again."

Lee smiled into the webcam and then snickered. "I beat your high score, Ron. Again. Can you believe it?"

He minimized the Skype window and then opened up the Pac-Man online game that they were competing with. Lee busied himself with poking the arrow keys on his laptop as Ron's protests came through.

"No, I don't care that one of your keys sticks. Ha-ha, I still beat you…" Lee's Pac-Man ate up one of the ghosts and he said, "See, I just ate one of the ghosts. You can never do that. The ghosts always eat you."

Just then, Ron's icon went offline. Lee closed his Skype with a dissatisfied grunt and looked out the window. "Wow," he murmured to himself. "Didn't realize I'd been playing for so long already. I sure hope my parents don't notice…"

The window curtains rustled as wind came slowly through. None of the house's windows had screens on them. His parents always preferred a fresh breeze, even if it brought bugs.

"Hm?" Lee stood up and was preparing to draw the curtains when he saw a flitting shadow outside, near his gate. "Who's that, I wonder…" He popped his head outside and strained his neck to see.

All fell silent.

So it was nothing then, Lee thought. How amusing.

He closed the curtains and then began shutting down his laptop. As his Skype yawned and closed and his laptop slowly closed its other processes, Lee heard the sound of grass rustling.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

What is this feeling of foreboding? Lee put his head in his hands, unable to grasp it. Every hair on his body was standing on end. Tingles rushed mercilessly down his spine. Something is…something is…so…terribly…wrong… What is it? What is it that I have failed to understand? What does my body know that I don't? He looked up again, and immediately stifled a scream, launching himself back against the wall.

I could feel every muscle in my body tensing. I stared into his crystal blue eyes. They were cold with fear. There was a sweat drop that slowly trickled down his face. Every part of him was on fight-or-flight.

I could almost feel the smile tugging at the ends of my lips.

"I really enjoyed knowing you," I whispered in my soft voice.

He couldn't reply. He was frozen with fear.

I deliberately twitched my arm and let the moonlight glint off the silver edge of my blade. A hand rose up to his mouth and he stood, backing away, hoping to get to the door…

But I knew he wouldn't open it. He wouldn't dare. There was something about him… Despite his instinct…

He was resigned.

He was resigned to a fate that was inevitable.

Should I have felt guilt for it?

I could see his eyes. Soft, grieving, mournful. And filled with rage. Hate. Anger.

But why me?

My fingers fumbled with the doorknob. I wanted to open it and run away.

In my mind, the voice of Legion began to speak to me. Its voice, though muddled and echoing, a faded ghost of what it had been in my dreams, conveyed only one message. That this was my fate. That for him…this was what I had allowed myself to fall into.

I could fight back. I could win.

But how could I look at him and think that?

He was so weak…so helpless.

I wanted to help him.

Slowly my fingers pried themselves off the doorknob. I stepped confidently forward, knowing what awaited me. Just, please, Legion…let it be painless…

Will I save you, my friend?

Why is he standing there?

Why does he not move?

He knows…

He knows.

A small tear courses its way down my cheek. I look up at him, hardly able to meet his gaze. My breaths are shaking, my body quivering with tears that refuse to be shed. Perhaps it is better that way.

I'm sorry…

But I can't go on living…not like this…

My heart craves blood…I crave blood.

It has been too long…

So why do you stand there, my friend? The friend I have known for as long as I remember. Why do you stand there, instead of fighting back?

He looks so pure, like an innocent lamb bound and placed upon the pillar, ready to be sacrificed.

And yet, he knows.

There is a destiny that awaits you, my friend. You will live a new life. A life of beauty, of blessing. A life that means something besides the slaughter that has become your only way of survival.

I am but one of the instruments that shall move you along your path…

And so I stand.

He moves slowly.

Time folds in on itself.

The moonlight bathes him in a pure, glowing halo, and yet, his face is in shadow. Only his eyes glow. A small pearl of light makes its way down his cheek. Instinctively a reach towards him and wipe it away with the tip of my thumb.

He grabs my wrist, and all humanity leaves him.

He is like a feral, bloodthirsty beast, wanting to tear apart every inch of my body.

I see it in his face the moment before it happens.

I will save you, my friend…

Don't you know that I would do anything for you?

Your blood is sweet.

It tastes good on my tongue.

It refreshes me like a cool drink of water on a hot summer day.

Your blood is tantalizingly sweet.

I want it all.

He is on all fours on top of me. Blood drips down his chin.

Beside him, a knife coated in a thin layer of blood lays on the floor, staining the carpet red.

My conscience is fading…

It is my blood.

He leans over and presses his cold lips against my neck. I shudder.

My vision blurs.

I can feel him sucking my lifeblood out of me. I can hear his sigh of satisfaction. Then he looks at me.

He looks at me one last time.

I want to speak, yet I cannot form words. I can only breathe and let myself fade.

His face is right over mine, and his eyes are glistening. For one last moment, he looks like him again. For one last moment, he is human, his sanity returned. The last threads of his humanity are about to break.

He presses his forehead against mine, and I can feel his tears on my skin.

"I'm sorry."

But it's okay…it's okay…

Joerfin…Joerfin…

I forgive…

Did I save you?

There is nothing left here for me.