…Have I lost my readers? This makes me upset. Has the story digressed that badly? This…makes me sad. Shame shame. Please… do me a favor and review, if not for the sake of my ego, consider this: every time you read and don't review, I will kill another helpless Cheerio. Or something. I don't know…I don't really have it in me to do harm to anything else. Even ripping a leaf makes me very sad. A big-hearted thank you to those who have taken the time to review thus far.
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Was it raining? She felt so odd. Her body felt so heavy, yet she felt as if she could float away. Her mind was buzzing with her mixed up thoughts being the bees, flying to and fro in attempt to organize her scrambled thoughts. First things first, she felt wet and was absolutely freezing, and her side and hip hurt. She had probably slept on it; the heavy, uneven distribution of weight was most likely the basis for her pain. Slowly she stirred, causing her mind and body to slowly warm up to connect to each other once more. Ugh… the feeling like a ton of bricks weighed down her chest. She rolled over, winced and grunting, finding her wings getting in the way of her intended action to reduce the pressure-
WHAT? She bolted upward suddenly, instantly regretting it. Her head swam as the lightheadedness wreaked its havoc and forced her head and neck down to the ground once again.
Why the hell are my wings still out? She started to panic, where was she anyway? She looked around wildly and found herself looking out at a lone road surrounded by miles and miles of forest. Still scrambling to make sense of her location, she looked up slightly to see that she was ridiculously close to a sign that said "Glenside Motel" jutting up from over the edge of wherever she now sat. Wait… was she…? She scrambled over to the edge of... dear god… She was ON TOP OF THE BUILDING! She stumbled back with a gasp. Was this seriously happening? Okay okay… she began to inhale deeply and slowly. I'll just fly down and get out of-OUCH! The pain when she flexed her wings was nearly unbearable. She cried out and gritted her teeth, and proceeded to twist her neck to see what was causing her distress. What she saw caused a strangled cry to rise up from her lungs; the contorted bone structure, down disheveled and sticking up wildly in a way they were not meant to stand, ivory feathers maddeningly covered in crimson blood.
That scarlet color… red. Red, just like… Quivering in pain and anger, Lowen couldn't restrain the cold-blooded snarl that escaped from behind clenched teeth. The red demon-man did this; the pain was from him. The previous night unfurled itself from the hollows of her mind, the feelings of the helplessness and pain surfacing once again to take over her mind. She lifted her head and glared into the distance, almost as if her near fatal stare was directed at the entire world. She hated the demon-man. A switch clicked in her mind, and all she could think to describe what happened next was "temporary mental blindness".
This had never happened before in her life. It was like a flash of lightning had struck and entered her mind. She was startled but not scared, anxious but not nervous. Puzzle pieces of memories, emotion, feelings, dreams, and ideals rushed by her eyes at breakneck speed, yet she still saw every single thought clearly. Her mind emerged from a fog that she never knew it was ever encased in-what everything always so unclear? Was that why she could only read little snippets of people instead of seeing the whole flowering picture? Barely any time to comprehend, these flashes of light and passion swirled around and were suddenly gone, leaving her wide-eyed and breathless, still shaking on top of the rigid, cold, flat surface of the roof, every nerve ending and sense tingling on the edge of her worn body. Every emotion she felt was amplified, so pure and clear, she nearly cried out. The raw regret, anger, and confusion seemed to engulf her in its now lucid clutches. Her mutation, so painstakingly and previously repressed, now emerged as a malicious beast- no, a pack of malicious beasts, that were now rousing her to run, flee, anything to escape the ferocity her own mind. Her hands flew to her temples where they clamped down as if to feebly contain the tempest of emotions that threatened to rip her apart from the inside.
A scream. An animalistic howl. Then the darkness. To her, the escape was sweet bliss. She hoped it lasted a very long time.
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A forest clearing. No, not a clearing… all the trees around the perimeter had been demolished. The tang of salt and metal. Oh, blood. Why blood? Death. Death had been here. The carcasses of animals littered the area, from squirrels and bunnies to deer and… were those wolves? Slashed tree bark, trampled grass, leaves left ripped and violated, scattering the scene with debris. Where had all this come from? It was almost like-
Sudden human thought flashed into a tried psyche. With a gasp, Lowen bolted upright. Pain and fog no longer riddled her brain and body, though she still had the sensation of slight sensory overload. A slight fuzz hummed over her mind, not unpleasant, but maybe, unnerving, was the right word? She looked around, feeling as though she had just woken up from a well-deserved nap. She felt rested, though perhaps a bit sore in certain areas, but the scene that lay before her caused her unrest. What had happened while she was out? Oh… the building she was on before… how had she gotten off? This had been the second time in a row that she had woken up dazed in unfamiliar surroundings. The sharp memory of her damaged wings twisted its way down her path of thoughts, and she looked up, hoping that injuries were nothing more than a jumble of bad dreams. Alas, the wings were still twisted sadly, causing a pitiful look to take over her expression. She sighed and put her forehead dejectedly on her kneecaps and wrapped her arms around her calves. Oh, she was so lost to it all. After the whacky episode with the overwhelming emotions nearly taking her out last night (was it a dream? Maybe not…), and now this mysterious episode of her somehow waking up randomly in the middle of a wood with this…this… carnage spread out around her.
She began to reverently and sorrowfully take in the gruesome scene before her. What useless slaughter... she had no fathoming of an idea as to what happened or why, and she was too sick of unexplained questions to even begin to hypothesize the events that took place here. What she did immediately know was that she was desperately hungry. Dew had drenched her clothes which were… ripped, ragged, and covered with blood. Oh shit, the more she came to be aware the worse she felt. Her wings drooped sadly and she let out an exhausted, exasperated groan, surveying her disheveled appearance but trying not to think about it as she stood slowly. It really was beautiful, though, if you ignored the dead animals on their sides in eternal slumber. Pity and sadness crept up in her veins, but she turned to begin walking, not having the luxury or strength at the moment to ponder her feelings. There was dew lightly coating the earth and beams of soft sunlight whispering through the thick covering of leaves. Everything was hushed and still, she noticed. It wasn't a peaceful quiet, though. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it felt menacingly eerie. Well, duh, it probably had something to do with all the dead animals. No birds sang a single note; not even the obnoxious call from a blue jay or crow broke the morning. It was morning, wasn't it? Lowen groaned again as she sought out a path of some sort that might lead her out. This had been one hell of a long day. Scratch that… the whole week had been pretty damn crazy. Thank you, life.
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She stalked through thickets and underbrush, confounded at where she was and how far away she was from her original situation, not that it was any better. The white feathers on her wings closest to the ground were untidy and derelict due to her long walk. Due to her previous injuries, there was no way to retract them. The demon man… that scarlet bastard had caused all of this. She seethed momentarily, but the feeling rushed out of her like a flock of birds as she became immediately dizzy. That was funny; was this her mutation acting up again? Ever since the night on the roof where he had left her-
Wait. What was that? She stood stalk still and tilted her chin up ever so slightly, eyes scanning the distance in hope of finding, well, something. For a moment, nothing but the twittering of a couple birds broke the quiet. Her face fell. Had she imagined it?
That noise again. Her eyes lit up, her mouth curved into the first real smile she had displayed in the long week behind, weary as that smile was. It was the sound of traffic- a passing car. Thoughts of the treacherous man left her mind as she focused on her next task of getting back to civilization and figuring out what the hell was going on and what she wanted to do next. She trekked onward, now with a goal in mind. Only after a few feet, her eyes glimpsed the grey stretch of tar and concrete that formed a road in the distance. Another car when whizzing on by. Her grinned returned full force and she bounded forward, propelled by the thought of food, showers, civilization, and, who knows? maybe she would indulge in the guilty pleasure of a bit of mindless TV. More brush passed under her weary feet as she neared her concrete salvation.
KRFF. HISS.
Black and red smoke. The potent smell of mixed elements. Red.
OH SHIT, NO, YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! NOT AFTER ALL I JUST DID…!
Rough hands encircled both of her wrists. Oh yeah. It was serious. Fuck you, life.
"I thought I told you that you would not leave." There was no anger in his baritone voice. In fact, it was the most passive statement she'd ever heard, as if he didn't really care that she had disobeyed, but obvious he did since he was here pursuing her yet again…
"Yes, well, I had other things to do," she drawled irritably, her hunger and weakness transparent in her words. She felt a ghost of a rumble come from his chest pressed against her back between her wings. She froze. Was that a chuckle?
"You do not seem too busy to me," he remarked in the same tone. Fury churned up instantly from the hollows of her chest. Oh, how she wanted to scream and rip him apart. The sudden dizziness caught her again unexpectedly, causing her knees to buckle in a moment of weakness. A squeak escaped from her lungs, as her captor was now holding her up solely by her wrists. What was happening with her mutation? It had never made her act up like this. The sheer intensity of an emotion was enough to literally knock her off her feet. The demon… what was his name? Azazel. Right… Azazel moved his hands to lift her up from underneath her arms, and Lowen could feel that it took no effort on his part.
"I am not a man who is easily evaded."
She snorted, a defiant act that was betrayed by her quivering body. "So I've noticed." She struggled weakly and uselessly against his grip and turned her head to glare up into his face. "I'm not afraid of you."
"Your shivering speaks otherwise."
"I'm shaking because I'm hungry," she growled. Her head drooped to stare at the grass. Freedom had been so temptingly close, yet good ol' fortune had decided to screw with her, again, and deal her a shitty hand. AGAIN. What could she have possibly done to upset the gods? She let out a sigh in the otherwise quiet setting, finally accepting the idea that she was cursed somehow. What was to be her fate?
Ever so slowly, she felt one of his hands unfurl and glide lightly over the skin of her exposed underarm and side as it snaked away. His other arm curled itself on the confines of her ribcage as to support her weight left heavy from the absence of his previously retreated limb. A flinch coupled with an unceremonious gasp escaped her as she felt his large hand touch her feathers. She had expected violence from this man, but found him instead studying and stroking the down of her tattered wings. To her, receiving this unexpected calm and tenderness, if you could call it that, he was extracting toward her instead of the cruelty she had expected, intimidated her to the point of panic. The spontaneous thought of her grandma quoting scripture flashed suddenly across her memory. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful." She released a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyelids shut, hoping it to be all over soon. The benevolence of his hands would cease soon enough, leaving her a vision of a snake coiling maliciously around its victim after a gentle caress of scales.
The hardness of his palms lightly skimming the delicate bones and ivory feathers unnerved her, causing the shaking of her body to become more violent. The worst of it was the fact that she couldn't see him; she only sensation being the telltale contact of his skin, which she couldn't even begin to read or interpret. At the thought, a pinprick on her mind started to slowly blossom. Her mutation was trying to manifest itself once more. Relying on all her concentration, she bit her lip and clamped a mental vice on her thoughts. There was no way she'd let her mutation render her even more weak against her foe, as badly as she wanted to be bale to read what her enemy was feeling, but at this point, it was too risky. A whimper emitted itself from her as his hands stopped near the section twisted bones. This was injury he had caused.
"It hurts, no?" he asked. Lowen only snorted and let him imagine her answer. He turned her around slowly, almost reverently, to face him. Her nose became the epicenter for lines of anger to surface for the sake of creating her loathing expression of hatred as she now stared up at him. One side of her mouth drew itself upward, baring a canine in an animalistic display of defense. Of course, there was no way she could fight in her condition, but she could certainly let him know that she wasn't scared. Well, at least not completely afraid. The twitch at the corner of his mouth for the briefest of seconds served only to infuriate her even more, but she took a deep breath for the sake of containing herself, and let her exhale come out as a shuddering sigh.
"You are hungry," he rumbled, "so we will eat." There it was again; the statements he made that left no room for any sort of argument, as if he expected her to simply come along with him like a simpleton at his very command.
"You're mocking me," she hissed. His eyelids dropped and his face turned and tilted downward only to return to its previous position in a gesture Lowen could only guess was his equivalence to shaking his head.
"I am not. You said you shake out of hunger. We will see."
Oh, it is ON! the very human part of Lowen's brain proceeded to scream. She immediately flushed at her own mental outburst out of embarrassment in addition to Azazel's arrogant challenge of her truth… or rather her half-truth, and they teleported yet again in a flash of momentary darkness, leaving behind ashen feathers and black smoke.
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Next chapter: a picnic with Azazel? Naaaw… I couldn't imagine something like that. Could I? Maybe he'll take her to a fancy restaurant. Or maybe he'll just kill her and pick over her remains. Mmmm. Delicious.
Expect lots o' dialogue in the next installment, as well.
Do me a favor and review, if not for me, for the sake of the speed in which I post, which may be solely in your hands, reader.
Thank you so very much for reading and reviewing.