Disclaimer: Don't own anything move along now, there's nothing to see here.. :)
WARNING: There will be racial-slurs/jokes used in this fic. (Don't pretend to be a Saint, we all know used them before in some point in our lives, out of hate, comical humor with friends or just cuz.)
Helgas
Point
Of View
It was a cloudy evening, I peered up at the sky as God began painting the sky with his warmth and love. Casting long gentle strokes of orange and pink just above the horizon. It was truly an orgasm for my eyes to see, while the evening breeze brought me to peace. I felt Wolfgangs strong arms beginning to snake my waist, making us grin and laugh. The sun shined its rays through the clouds, I closed my eyes as I tried to bask in its warmth. Its colors and warmth was enough to calm the twisted little freak. Or bring warmth to the coldest of hearts. Breathing in the last of the day, the events of the day ran through my mind like a movie reel.
I had actually gotten along with my father over the years, as I refer to as Big Bob. He always told me to get out of the habit of daydreaming about Arnold. The sound of his voice is always in my mind, jerking me out of thoughts. Keeping me in my studies. He was never really abusive towards me or anyone else. But only with words, when things didn't go his way.
By the time I opened my eyes I stared off into oblivion into the darkened sea as thick as ink that hovered overhead. Littering its diamonds for all to see. Admiring the stars, for it was their turn to shine unrivaled and true. I looked down once more only to see an old flame approaching. Making my smile go away. The one who I held countless 3 a.m. vigils for, making a profound effigy using his chewed wads of gum which I stole. Sculpting the very shape of my once blonde haired God who I worshiped inmorally, who I adored for many winters. The one that once made my girlhood tremble, a God amongst men. But he is nothing more but a distant memory. My father always told me never to dwell in the past, but to endorse the future..
As Arnold neared I noticed he was wearing the same clothes; for more than a year. Covered and stained in sweat, grease, dirt, and grime. And the occasional ketchup stains here and there that covered his sweater, shirt, and pants. Stained from the french-fries the school cafeteria gave, he'd share it with us before feeding himself. Caring for others well-being before his own, how I admired his chivalrous acts and good deeds. But most of us would kindly decline because of the dirt and grime under his fingernails. And the way how he smelled of piss and shit. The only ones that ever ate anything he offered were Gerald, Harold, Sid, and Stinky, but Lorenzo and Peapod on occasion.
Most of us chose to ignore it not wanting to judge our friend who had lost his optimistic side long ago. But we did judge him on occasion, not with words but with our stares and actions alone. It looked like he was headed toward Geraldo, and my best-friend Pheebs. It bothered me for ignoring the signs for so long. I twisted my neck slightly to look at my new-found love. He looked at Arnold sending him a powerful glare, not of hate but mixed expression of sympathy and regret.
"Fuck I feel like such a dick Im gonna be a better person than I am now.." Wolfgang said making me smile.
Arnolds
Point
Of View
I knew I wasn't wanted here. Maybe it was because the way I smelled and dressed most of the time. But they too drank and smoked they weren't Saints nor I. If only my friends knew the truth they wouldn't be so judgmental behind my back or make a face when ever I neared them. To be honest I'd rather have an enemy who admits hating me than a friend that secretly puts me down or talks behind my back.
Most of the fucking time I plastered a fake smile on my face, not wanting them to learn about the situation behind the scenes. I mean sure they have their assumptions but I know they don't know I was abandoned by them.
I walked up to Gerald who still had that bizarre hairdo of his. He grew a small but noticeable goatee I hadn't seen him since April. Since I used to ditch a lot back in grade school. Turns out the school district is making P.S. 118 into a high school due to budget cuts, just for the time being I assume.
I saw Curly trying to steal snippets and bits of Rhonda's luscious hair, on my way to greet my best friend. Urging Berman to beat the crap outta him, but he declined in soft whispers and gestures. Harold would have beaten him to pulp too, but Curly spent exactly five years today, in a psychiatric ward. They say he went crazy after Harold tied him up leaving Curly locked up in the crypt for five days. He almost died if it weren't for the graveyard keeper, finding him starved, dehydrated, and traumatized. He almost looked normal if his eyes weren't so dark and creepy, his eyes were sunk deep within its sockets. They hid behind the red thick frame of his glasses.
"What up Arnold? Everything cool?" Gerald asked, he didn't look me in the eyes just like the others. But I knew he wanted to ask such questions but he didn't want to pry. As to why the way I dressed and smelled. Wanting to know the reason why I can't and won't have him or the others over at the boarding house. He didn't say it but I heard it in his voice, and saw it in his eyes.
"Yeah man everything's cool, don't trip potato chip." I said smoothly lowering my head a bit, with a small weak smile as he and Phoebe began to laugh. Their laughter and joy is what keeps me going day to day. Hoping each day would get better and better. I looked up a bit to see Curly stand on an ice-chest, as if he were about to speak.
Curlys
Point
Of View
"Listen up!" I shouted sending a powerful glare to my so called friends. "This summer we're going to check out a list of places I had in mind in the fourth grade." Harold you Jewish son of a bitch you are going to pay dearly. "Arnold and Wolfgang you two are in charge of getting some beer, and a few bottles. Gerald, Sid, and Stinky you guys are gonna get some bud. Rhonda and Harold you two are in charge of the chips. Lorenzo and Pearce you guys gotta get us some rides. Rendezvous back here in half an hour when your done."
"How much does your dads pickup take Lorenzo?" Sid asked. Dick-face here was one of the only ones I had a mutual respect besides Arnold, Gerald, Lorenzo, and Pearce. I couldn't help but stare at that pink sack of shit, who got me institutionalized.
"It's about half way full but eight bucks will do.." Lorenzo answered back, hanging up his expensive cell phone. He probably ended a phone with his mother, making up some bogus excuse just to kick it with the boys. Fuck man, it feels good to be out, no more forced medication down my throat, or the padded room.
"I'll take my sisters ride for tonight." Peapod informed.
"I don't know about you guys but I'ma take my rambo knife. Just in case if we have to fuck up a ghost, a hobo, a dog or someone we're gonna leave behind." Harold chuckled, "Or a black guy trying to rob us, haha."
"Fuck you, ya fucking penny-pinching Jew! Why he gotta be black?"
"Whatever nigger." Harold murmured with hate, I lifted an eyebrow as eager as a scientist wondering if there ever was a missing link. Guess fat ass is a closet racist after all. "Why the fuck you tripping over Gerald for bitch?" Lorenzo declared. "Shut the fuck up you fucking spic, don't your people hate his kind anyways? Your kind is only taking up jobs for Americans you fucking border-hopping taco-jockey."
"I was born here dumb-ass.."
"Yeah whatever man.. You think we'll see anything?" Harold called out to Sid, ignoring his last statement. "I'm gonna trip someone if we start seeing shit." Harold shouted as he looked at Gerald and Lorenzo. "If something happens.. Just so you know I expect to be dragged."
I've been gone for five freakin' years and there's so much bad blood going on. What the fuck happened? I guess my absence didn't even out the hate, considering I was their frenemy. We all have that one friend who's not really our friend, guess it Harold.
"Hell yeah bro, I'm gonna drag you out or stay with you. If anything I'm not gonna leave my boy behind." Sid reassured, making me wonder where his loyalty stood. But if it comes to it, it'll be like killing two birds with one stone.
"Guys," I shouted playfully, my voice was as sugar coated as Lilas minus all her annoying ass ever sos. I clenched my fists as hard as I could, it felt as if my skin was about to tear. "All of that is unnecessary, just deck someone we bring with us and run." I grimaced as I turned to look at Harold watching his smile fade away, forming a grim line snapping him back to reality. What a bitch I guess Gerald, Lorenzo and I are gonna have to put him in his place. He even didn't speak anymore, probably out of fear he turned to look at Sid for comfort. But he simply shrugged; when I looked away I saw dick-face give a nod of uncertainty with Jew-piter in a silent agreement from the corner of my eye. I bet he thinks all those meds and electric shocks to my skull repressed my memory. I think not!
I guess the gang split into two if not three when I was gone. Now I'm just wondering who the fucks the two-faces, I know someones gonna be a Judas and drive us apart even more. Fuck I miss the good ole' days reminiscing about all the stupid crap we did when we were boys. I just wanna know what happened to the old gang. I guess I hold onto memories so tight is because, memories are the things that don't change when people do. Maybe I shouldn't dwell on the past, maybe this is my time to start a new beginning. But fuck it's so damn hard to change!
Wolfgangs
Point
Of View
"Maybe you should go and talk to him.." Helga offered, "I know you two squashed whatever beef you guys had four years ago." Maybe he doesn't want to let people in, for fuck sake.. Why must you be so... persistent. I know you're worried for one of the homies but maybe he's just trying keep us in the dark for reasons unknown. "Alright I'll go but I don't guarantee any breakthrough you're looking for.." I kissed her on the forehead and hugged her goodbye, walking towards Arnold who had been waiting for me.
While the others left to do Curlys biding, while my girlfriend, and her best friend stayed behind with Curly. I feel into step with him, heading to one of the liquor stores that was only a few blocks away. I wanted to ask what was wrong but the words never left my throat. Maybe I'm just hesitant, I tried swallowing the frog in my throat but it just made matters worse. Considering that we're going to do a beer-run together. My mind just ran a bunch of what ifs. Doing beer-runs is simple but this my first with him. What if he fucks up then what!?
Before I knew it he pulled open the door in front of the shop. I looked around casually for a few seconds, spotting an older guy with gray unruly hair his arm covered in tatts. Man I know I've seen him before but where?
He must have felt my stare looking me dead in the eyes, his eyes full of hate he moved one of his arms to his side. I looked away out of fear, walking down the aisles towards the back. I saw Arnold grab a couple cases of beer, stuffing two bottles of UV into his filthy sweater. He nodded at me waiting in anticipation. I nodded in agreement and grabbed a few bottles of beer and liquor. The kind of liquor they didn't keep on the shelves.
The feeling of pure awkwardness and anxiety began to take its toll. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears with each beat coming from my chamber door. Making the palms of my hands sweaty, while my stomach churned with fear. Making me drop one of the bottles in hand, shattering the glass spilling the drink onto the floor. How could I fuck up! This is such an easy task.
"Fuck!' I shouted, I didn't want to say it.. But my mouth automatically shouts fuck when something bad happens. My head spun, I could hear the alarmed voices of the store clerk and other customers surrounding me. I however paid no attention to what they were saying. I felt woozy as if I might faint.
I felt a single hand wrap around my wrist in an aggressive manner, trying to guide me behind the liquor stores counter. I didn't want to go but my body automatically responded to the unkind gesture. Now I'm fucked for sure. "Let go of me damnit I'll pay for it geez." I tried to reason but he didn't waiver, I watched him pull out a cell phone similar to Lorenzos.
Seeing Arnold pull out a bottle from his sweater, grabbing it by the neck as he held it upside down. I closed my eyes as tight as I could anticipating the shatter of the glass from the blow. "Fuck off you under-aged prick I'm calling the c-" But instead a thud was heard, I felt his strong grip around my wrist weaken. I opened my eyes to see the clerk stand firmly in his spot, completely dazed. Arnold hit him on the side of his skull once more shattering the glass bottle into razor sharp shards littering the tile covered floor. I couldn't help but stare at him for more than a minute, the store clerk seemed so familiar. It didn't occur to me that Arnold had already walked out with the beer. Grabbing the few remaining bottles I bolted.
I ran my free hand through my blonde hair in frustration, trying to process what happened back there. Dammit I know I've seen the store clerk somewhere but where! "Thanks dude, for saving my ass back there." He nodded in return, setting aside the cases of booze. He opened one of the bottles taking swig of it. "Drink some bro it'll calm the nerves." He mentioned, he must've noticed my hand was shaky and my breaths forced. I grabbed the bottle of UV Coconut, takin' in a mouthful. I frowned as it began to burn my insides. The walk back to Geralds field was silent, he already saved my ass why would I make him carry the burden to tell me his secrets.
Some Time Later
Geralds
Point
Of View
Much to the displeasure of the girls, we just wanted a summer to remember. The Bethany house was situated in the eastern side of Hillwood National Forest. Except The Bethany House is no house but an actual old abandoned insane asylum. Many teenagers used to use it as a place to party around the asylum but never inside. There have been many stories of hauntings going on in there. The house was an old dilapidated, crumbling building that we were forbidden to enter. I couldn't rid the mental images of the spiders inside. I hate spiders!
Curly, Sid, and Arnold looked around to find a point of entry. Turning my head to Phoebe, she hated scary places. Especially cemeteries whenever she would pass one she hold her breath till she was past it. She gave me an uneasy look but smiled, trying not to ruin the night. "Over here guys!" Curly shouted, making Phoebe flinch.
Phoebe and I went around with our flashlights turned on, while the rest of the gang unloaded our supplies. We shined our flashlights bright at an old rusty door. That hung precariously on its last corroded hinge. It appeared ready to collapse at the tiniest provocation, so holding our breath and very careful to avoid touching anything, we would squeeze through the tiny opening to the inside. We shined our flashlights in every direction only to illuminate floating dust particles.
Scattered randomly throughout the interior were rusting medical implements, needles, scalpels, stethoscopes and numerous long-forgotten other tools that no longer resembled anything useful. All of the items appeared dangerous and capable of serious damage if they were mishandled or if careless passage caused contact with fragile skin. We kept our distance at some three or four inches from the rusted medical equipment and tried to remain clear of these things.
Finding a suitable place to setup shop in the center of the room on the first floor. Numerous papers littered the floor.
But the second floor was the most sinister part of the asylum. It was dark as pitch-black and the stairs leading up to it had crumbled into a gaping hole in the ground. The few remaining steps appeared intact at the top, but at ground level I couldn't help but think we were being watched from above.
We could only imagine its contents, huge spiders covered with coarse hair and menacing fangs of a tarantula. Their enormous eyes watching and waiting for anyone foolish enough to ascend to the second floor.
The asylum itself was pretty spooky and in the darkness, the outlines of the objects and decaying contents resembled people lurking in the shadows, but my friend Curly and Sid liked it. We never been here before, it was just a place all the kids would talk about. Being removed from teenage version of the list because a teenager went missing. It was truly an urban legend.
Usually we'd tell scary stories or myths at Arnolds house, at Mighty Pete, or Geralds field. Things change for the better I'm sure. The sound of twisting metal echoed within the building, hearing the rusty old door fall unopposed as it was suppose to decades ago.
I turned my head quickly seeing Harold and the others enter without delay nor obstacles. "Sorry at least we got an open exit." He chuckled, mouthing an I'm sorry for what happened earlier. Curly took note of his gesture and nodded in agreement as did I. I don't really have anything against him for calling me a Nigger. I'd be pissed off too if my parents were divorcing, his parents were bickering and fighting like children over who gets what and the custody of their last child.
We sat there for hours sharing spooky stories and get ourselves so frightened, we'd barely find our balance to get back out the asylum to take a piss, as we would literally be shaking in our shoes.
We sat there on the floor talking about playing a few games, forming a circle for the game. During pauses in our conversation, we listened to the mournful groans of the old framework slowly yet very audibly decaying. Why this caused us such fascination is unknown to me or my friends. Either way we were thoroughly enjoying the spooky, musty ambiance that was the old insane asylum.
"Who goes first?" Wolfgang asked curiously, downing a beer placing an empty bottle in the center of us all. "Oh you mean interrogation or abuse, sure count me in?" My best friend Arnold declared sarcastically. We laughed kindheartedly at his remark, as Phoebe reached in the center and spun it.
We laid our eyes at the center, hoping not to be it. It slowly stopped, pointing to Arnold who gave an angry "Shit." in response. "This game is rigged!" He shouted playfully, "Alright chumps lets do this." Arnold said smoothly running a hand through his hair. Wolfgang scratched his goatee wondering what he'd ask truth or dare if Arnold chose either one. "Alright Arnold truth or dare?" He asked as he tried to hold back a bashful smile. "Dare." He replied thoroughly determined.
"I... dare you to... smoke some salvia outside by yourself." Arnold nodded as he got up, Wolfgang tossed a small pipe, a lighter and small plastic baggie towards Arnold who caught it without any effort.
Seconds later Curly decided to tell a story. As Curly was telling his favorite ghost story for the hundredth time in low, hushed whispers. I was enthralled by the tale of The Ghost Bride, Curly was very good at making any story sound terrifying beyond belief. Maybe it was the way he looked that made it creepy. But the answers were beyond me.
Just when the story hit its scariest point, a scraping noise began to emanate from the second floor. At first we thought it was our over active imaginations. But the sound grew in intensity as we listened, almost as if the originator had wanted to ensure it's audience was paying attention. We all looked at each other frighten and scared.
The only sound we could hear was our heartbeats pounding wildly in our ears. We stared at each other for a good five minutes with our eyes wide open almost bulging. I couldn't imagine what could be causing the sound and in terror, I whispered loudly, "What is that guys?!"
A chill ran down my spine, we all looked down the hallway from where we were. Seeing a silhouette of a man, it seemed as if he was lost and disoriented disappearing into a wall into nothingness. I turned around seeing Rhonda almost scream but Harold and Helga threw their hands over her mouth. As not to give ourselves away. I grabbed my girlfriends hand and held it tight. We couldn't help but imagine what could be causing the sound and in terror, Stinky whispered harshly, "What do you think it is guys?!" Choosing not to believe or even speak of what he saw.
At that, most of my friends shifted positions beside me. Phoebe shook loose my grip and ran for the exit. I wanted to scream but Harold wrapped his arms around me, covering my mouth with one of his hands. "Shhh," he whispered, very quietly. Soon the scraping noise filled the air.
It was a metallic sound, hollow and ominous.
Harold retracted his hand and pulled me with him as he jumped up and ran for the door. We escaped the asylum and ran out into the night using all of our might to keep from screaming, but our will and determination faltered.
We made it outside and stopped, bending over and holding our sides, chests heaving. We gained our composure wondering what we saw and heard was real. What we didn't realize we were downhill, where we parked our rides.
"We gotta wait for Arnold man we can't leave him behind." Sid gushed as we all agreed. We waited outside while our girlfriends waited in the cars locking the doors.
Arnolds
Point
Of View
My eyesight became faded and dim. It began to drizzle a bit, the night was misty and cool; low hanging fog covered the ground. I hid behind a tree as I heard a scream. I couldn't see a thing but a saw an ominous orangey-red glow in the distance. I wandered over there moving to bush to bush and tree to tree. That's when I saw it.
Eleven of them were sitting in a semi-circle, kneeling and bowing and chanting words of some ancient language around a bon-fire. Dressed in black robes, I couldn't see their faces only their backs. Their silent whispers grew to loud mumbling. I felt the wind pick up speed rustling the bushes and branches of trees, seeing an owl fly out of the night landing on the old rock that a body had been laid.
Their chanting of their ancient tongue only grew louder once the owl had arrived. Its wings sunk within its back, hidden from sight. I seen the feathers that covered the owl began to melt, it ran like a hot wax hitting the earth disappearing without a trace. While scaly skin as black as night began to take its place. It's yellow beak sunk into its face, as teeth as white as snow on a winter day sprouted out, while lips grew soon after. Making a disgusting sound each time a new bodily part appeared to take its form.
Run! Boy do not look back! I froze at the mental voice, echoing through my mind until it disappeared into whispers. My eyes shined with excitement and horror at once, ignoring the advice from the voice in my head. The sight alone just made me cringe, I didn't know if this was good or bad.
It's eyes went to a pale gold into dark shade of crimson, almost glowing. The creatures scaly yellow legs grew from mere inches to full size of a man. I heard its bones cracking, giant wings of a bat ripped through its skin sprouting through its back. Followed by an eerie silence. I saw it sniff the air, I blinked my eyes and in an instance they were gone.
It was then I heard a twig snap behind me followed by an eerie silence. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, it was so quiet I heard the blood flowing through my veins, hearing my own thoughts in my mind. I felt a hand touch my shoulder, my body froze. I whirled around hesitantly only to see her, shivering as she hugged herself in this cold summer night. Each breathe she took a white mist escaped her lips.
"Arnold you're moving in your grandparents in Pleasantville." She mumbled, her teeth began to chatter while her complexion turned to a pale white. Her lips blue, she looked me in the eyes. Something was different about her why the sudden change of character!?
I faked a smile. "I'm fine on my own." Telling her the most common lie a human can make.
"Mr. Potts is going to demo the building next month, I'll get the car.." She informed walking away, how could this wench have a sudden change of heart? Probably someone called CPS on them, and the agency is building a case against them? Serves them right either way...
It just doesn't add up, I found myself disappearing into the shadows against my will. My morals and ethics were already screaming at me, scolding me for my stupidity. Heading towards the direction, following her footsteps fading away. "Arnold!" She called out, I saw her behind some bushes in the distance. She waved me in with outermost affection. Do not be fooled by their trickery! The mental voice shouted, a scowl was visible on her pretty face. In a blink of an eye she was gone.
I slowly backed away not knowing what work is real and what work is a figment of my imagination. Something caught my eye, glittering on the ground it was a puddle, I squinted at it. Staring at my own reflection I managed a weak smile. My skin as ghostly white, my green eyes were dull and sunk within it sockets. As if some force sucked the life out of them, my hair was an unruly mess. I looked up at the trees I had a very peculiar feeling I was not alone.
The wind blew hard making the puddle ripple. I watched the effects of the wind, the reflection changed splitting in half into another person. I cleared my throat as she moved, smiling at me. Her cheeks flushed with red.
I turned around only to see Helga G Pataki. "Fuck I thought I was seeing shit." I whispered. "God Hair boy I told you not to smoke it, you do know salvia causes hallucinations right?" She pondered. I saw her lower her eyelashes, playing with the hem of her sweater. I just stood there thinking of what I saw was true.
"You want me don't you?" She said seductively, running her hands through my golden locks.
She threw her arms over my neck, smiling at me. She stood on her toes, because I was a few inches taller than her. She kissed me, her tongue invading my mouth. While my own gently rubbed against hers, dueling hers like a medieval knight would. She moaned lightly into the kiss as I began to kiss her back. They became almost demanding, and needful. I stroked her silky golden hair and the thick fabric of her sweater.
"Helga Stop." I mumbled through the kiss, knowing what I was doing was wrong. Wolfgang is a friend why would I betray his trust. Even though he was an ass to me a few years back I shouldn't hold a grudge.
I tried to pull away. I felt her tongue search the moist recesses of my mouth at the back of my throat playing with my uvula, a chill shook my frame. But she clutched my head like a NFL football player would. Holding onto me with dear life, digging her nails into the skin of my skull. I opened my eyes watching her bright oceanic eyes turn to as black as midnight and as glossy as ink. I broke loose of her freakishly strong hold, pushing her away, watching her big reddish tongue twisting and turning like a headless snake. "Wh- what are you?" I asked out of fear, backing away step by step. Until I inched myself on to the rugged bark of a tree I was trapped.
I tried to move past it but it grabbed me and flung me back to the tree. "We go by many names mere mortal, we are the fallen." It whispered in low pitched demonic voice, as it pressed it's body against mine, almost provocatively. The feeling of despair filled my being, just accepting the fact that I was going to die. Just the sight of it alone chilled my insides to an icy crevice. My eyesight was blurry fighting and holding back the tears that wanted to shed. I could barely make out the silhouettes siding behind it, forming a semi-circle.
I closed my eyes as tight as I could, almost ripping my eyelids open as the wind picked up speed. I looked up at the tree-branches ignoring it's presence, I had a very peculiar feeling we were not alone. "What are you looking at mortal?" The creature sneered as it sniffed the air, revealing its true form I saw minutes ago. The thing grabbed me by my throat, while its tongue trailed up and down my neck. Licking and tasting my being. Hearing the mental voice come back in my mind, chanting an ancient tongue almost in prayer. Within seconds I felt wet, drenched in my own sweat, soaking in fear.
The feeling of it pouring from my golden colored hair, traveling all over. As if I was a coach for an NFL football team and my team just won. I opened my eyes watching a droplet of sweat clinging onto a single strand of hair an inch of so from my face. It fell, changing from a clear droplet of sweat into darker shade of scarlet. A droplet of blood!? Striking the creatures arm on impact, I watched it sizzle. Burning through its coal-black skin. Its inky eyes widen changing to a glowing red, glimmered with hate as it scratched my chest and face with its nails, screeching like a banshee. Releasing its hold, I breathed heavily to take in much needed air.
The cold sweat crept down my neck and all over turning warm and thick. I reached my hand on the back on my neck to ease the pain, it felt wet, warm, and thick. I retracted, looking at it I saw blood. "Micheal is coming! Take flight you fools!" The humanoid screamed. The wind swept, and leaves danced across the ground as the earth quivered and quavered and lighting struck. The others vanished without a trace. Fearful in spirit , it flapped its wings in an attempt to flee to the devils assembly. Only to have a spear pierce the back of its head, coming through its mouth. A body wound suffered, the dire demon was suffering a damage incurable. Death was pondering.
The wind slung me backward and I landed on my back. "Whoa." I said as one figure reigned true. This thing appeared out of nowhere. It was kneeling on one knee, I could recognize the figure of a man. Wearing a Thracian helmet, a golden muscle cuirass and greaves, with leather fringes. It was armed with a sword still in its golden sheath, and a silver colored circular shield with weird marking engraved in it in the other.
It stood up and rose its head high, wings as white and soft as a cloud sprung from its back. "I am Micheal, an arc-angel of the Father. I believe you are the one I must protect." The angel said. I remained mute, I was too much in shock to process the thought of an arc-angel named Micheal had come to my aid. "Fallen angels like him have had names of Zeus or Hades, portraying themselves as Gods since the creation of man. Do not be fooled!"
He walked over to the creatures body, drawing his sword from its sheath. Death had seized it, he lifted his sword high above his head, swinging down the blade for the final blow. Cutting off its head, while the body turned to ashes he turned to me. "You have begun walking too far from your guardian young one." He said as his wings expanded gently flapping them, I was confused. "Do not be fooled by their trickery, they come in many forms. In man and other creations of the Father."
Before I could raise a question he stole them from out of my mouth. "Do not be fooled by ghosts nor spirits of loved ones, all who come to earth return to the kingdom of God for judgement." I nodded, "But why was I covered in blood?" I asked curiously. "Do not thank me, thank your guardian angel. He was the one that covered you with the blood of Christ not I."
I couldn't help but cast myself at his feet, thanking for what he had done almost worshiping him. "Do not do it! I am a fellow servant with you. Worship God!" Micheal rebuked, "You aren't to worship us angels or beg us to act for you; your prayers instead should be to God, who alone is my commander." I nodded as did he, "I must go now, pray to God and his only son for they are your salvation." He flapped his wings once more flying into the air. "Wait!" I called out. "Speak." He responded, "Hows it like to fly?" He smiled "Eh it's okay I guess."
I ran to the building, finding it empty. I figured they left to cars. Running down the steep slope I tripped upon seeing my friends downhill, twisting my ankle. I wanted to scream but I didn't want to seem weak in front of my friends. Gerald and the guys ran to my aid taking my to the car.
"Gee willickers Arnold are you okay? You got a a bunch of scratches on you" Stinky asked thoroughly alarmed. "I think I broke my ankle." I was too drunk to feel the pain but I felt its sting."
"Arnold," Wolfgang called out. "I was messing with you dude it was just some bud not salvia.."
Some of you are wondering why this story was made the way it is.. Too many stories makes Arnolds life perfect, too perfect as a matter of fact. Arnolds perfect life is regurgitated by different authors in "their own way or style" over and over again. So here is something new. This story is about the flaws in our society, and how they're overlooked by YOU. (This fanfic is set in the 90s, specific year will be revealed soon.)