Bloody Wings Part II: The Unending Storm

Bloody Wings Part 2: The Unrelenting Storm

  By Adrienne Gordon

  Copyright 2012 Adrienne Gordon

  stock photo by Sias van Schalkwyk

  Russell leaned in close, and Anna blushed.

  "What's wrong?" he asked. "Nervous?"

  Anna's lower lip trembled. "No . . ." she said meekly, lying. After all, she was barely fifteen, and had never been this close to a boy for this long. Russell was all muscle and sneer; his upper lip seemed to be magnetically attracted to his nose. He had just begun growing facial hair; his cheeks were rough stubble under cold blue eyes. His scent was intoxicating; she hadn't noticed it when she spoke with him at the Turendura, but in her mother's car he stood out. Anna wanted to nuzzle close to him and just drink in his husky aroma.

  Pressing his body closer in the tight confines of the Volkswagen Passat, he slowly put a hand on her leg. Anna squirmed a little, feeling flush all through her chest. She brushed back her long brown hair and fluttered her eyes, trying to be flirtatious, coy, and in control, but in truth she was losing that control to her body. Her nipples hardened, and for some reason, she felt her wings begging to come out. She squirmed back into her seat, trying to coax them back into her shoulder blades, not wanting anything to spoil the moment.

  Something caught Russell's eye, and he sat up quickly, focusing on the open road before them.

  "Did you see that?"

  Anna felt like she wanted to cry. Maybe he doesn't want to be here with me. "No – what was it?"

  Russell sat back, and Anna saw fear on his face. "It was . . . it was, I swear, a little red boy holding a long knife, dragging it through the snow."

  Anna looked out the window, but saw nothing. "Are you joking?"

  "No."

  "You don't want to do this, do you?"

  Russell sighed. "Of course I do!"

  Anna sunk back in her seat and pouted. "Whatever." She got out her phone and pressed a few icons, checking Facebook.

  "Don't do this."

  "Do what?" snapped Anna. "You're the one seeing little red boys in the snow."

  "Fine," he said with a sigh, turning the key in the ignition. "It's getting cold anyway."

  Anna couldn't help but whimper. She had been desperate for this time, this moment, ever since escaping up to Vermont. There were so many new things to learn, so many new people, and she felt like the perpetual outsider. Russell had been the only one to show her kindness, and she dared hope it would turn into something more.

  #

  A storm had set in that was merciless and unrelenting, dumping copious amounts of large, fluffy flakes on Castleton, Vermont. Russell drove slowly back along Route 30, and even with the traction assist engaged the car slipped and slid countless times as they travelled over small hills and across narrow metal bridges untreated.

  Anna sulked, pretending to be absorbed in her phone, while Russell prattled on about grooming other girls.

  "Sarah let me see her wings two weeks ago. Each one of them stretched the length of me! But I thought her plumage was kinda thin, and I wouldn't be surprised if she couldn't even target a sphere."

  "Yeah well," said Anna absently. She suddenly saw something out of the corner of her eye. "Watch out!"

  Anna screamed, and Russell swerved off the road to avoid hitting a snow-covered mound of metal in the center of the road. He twisted the wheel back and forth, but down an embankment they slid. Anna grabbed onto the handle above the door and shoved her feet firmly against the floorboard as the car started to run over.

  It toppled over twice, thankfully coming to rest on its wheels. Anna sat in shock. Her head hurt, and her knee was bleeding, but she could blink her eyes and turn her head, so she quickly breathed a sigh of relief that she was alive.

  "You okay?" asked Russell, who also looked worse for wear, but still breathing.

  "Yeah," answered Anna. "Let's get out of here."

  They got out of the car and scrambled up the slick, snow-covered embankment. The engine hissed, and the air was filled with the smell of burning antifreeze. Once they stood on the road, Anna strained her ears.

  "Can you hear that?"

  They both focused on a soft, musical sound, and realized it was coming from the snow-covered metal lump that forced them off the road. As they came nearer, Russell said;

  "I know that! It's . . . I know it . . ."

  "It's Chopin's Preludes," said Anna with pride. "My father used to listen to that all the time."

  At the mention of her father, Anna felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She had promised herself she would go out and find him, but that promise seemed long ago and lacking in power.

  "Yeah, that's it." Russell stopped, and Anna turned to look at him, curious.

  "What is it?"

  "I'm . . . sorry, about before," he said. "I waited a long time before getting up the nerve to ask you out here."

  Anna might have been freezing, but she never felt more warm and flush in her life. Russell came to stand next to her, his head so far above her. He leaned down, and the snow that had gathered on his head fell on her face. She giggled, and he smiled, but pressed on, undeterred. For the first time since childhood, Anna's lips met those of a boy. For so many years she dreamed of what it would be like, but it paled in comparison to the actual event. She felt lost in him as her body yielded to his touch, as she swam in the deliciousness of his mouth. His thin, muscular arms surrounded her, and her hands went around his waist, pulling him in. She couldn't help but cry, so intense was the passion she felt.

  "Help . . ."

  Anna was startled by the sound of scraping metal, and a human voice. She shrank into Russell's embrace and turned to see what it was.

  The door of what once was a tan Subaru Outback creaked open, bringing down a minor avalanche of the snow that had piled on top. A bloody hand stretched out and grabbed onto the car frame.

  Russell broke their embrace, and pried open the door. An older, pale-skinned man with gold wire-rimmed glasses fell out of the car. Anna rushed to his side and caught his head, immediately feeling a strong, overwhelming sense of dread.

  "You're not a man, are you?" she asked anxiously.

  The bespeckled man laughed and coughed up blood. "What a great shame to find a young little mastema, out here, and not be in a position to feast! Oh, won't you give a dying elohim a last wish, and put your succulent hand in my mouth?"

  "Elohim? You're an ilykiana!" Instinctively, Anna's wings emerged, pushing with violence out of her shoulders, and arching back, ready to strike. She had to back up and stand, as they spread wide and high.

  "Wow," said Russell, struck dumb in admiration." I've never seen them like that."

  Anna's emotions were at war. One the one hand she felt a burning desire to incinerate the elohim, but on the other she started to blush and was overwhelmed with glee at Russell's reaction.

  "Ilykiana?" hissed the man, as he coughed up more blood. "What a guttural term only your people would have used; we are the elohim. Jonah?" he asked, trying to turn his head to look back in the car. "Jonah, where are you?"

  "Ilykiana, elohim; whatever you're called you killed my mother, and --"

  And then, it all changed. Anna thought she knew who her enemies were; the elohim, and their desire to feed on her kind. But suddenly a sound she could never forget etched a deep gash in her soul, and her eyes were burned with something she never expected.

  A young boy covered in red skipped out of the snow-covered treeline, with a joyful gait and carefree expression. No more than ten, Anna was struck by how naked he was and how wide his smile was. His mouth was wide like a feasting elohim's, but even more vicious. And at his side he dre
w a knife that seemed to be as long as the world, and sharper than any blade known to the race of men.

  "Messing with my CHILDREN?" asked the red boy. He opened his mouth, but his words seemed to sink into Anna's very soul and they burned with gloom and despair. Anna noticed the snow didn't fall on him; rather, it dissolved several meters above his head. His small feet not only melted the snow beneath him, but burned the asphalt of the road. He was the personification of fire and fury, and his blade the incarnation of death. He scraped its tip along the road, and the grating sound was louder than the roar of a tornado. Anna and Russell moved back as the red boy approached the car. He stood over the elohim, still grinning. "You drove and you CRASHED, and now I'll have my FUN!"

  "I'm . . . I'm sorry," said the elohim. "Jonah and I, we almost --."

  "CHOPPING time, child-of-mine," said the red boy, as he raised his knife slowly up. "I'll CHOP, and you'll BLEED, and maybe the little girl will SCREAM!"

  The red boy suddenly jumped high in the air, too far for Anna to see. And just as soon as he jumped up, he landed like a bolt of lightning, brining his knife down on the elohim's head, splitting it in two. He hacked and slashed at the body, pulverizing bone and flesh. Anna couldn't help but look, and saw something within the elohim's tattered flesh that glowed. The red boy reached down and picked it up, out of its broken ribs. It was a glowing orb of dark light, and he ingested it whole.

  "What are you?" she asked.

  The red boy grinned and drooled a red fluid from his mouth that burned as it fell. "I am BLADE and gore, youth and RIGHT. I am an Agent of CREATION, and the elohim are my judgment made REAL."

  Anna harrumphed, pushing Russell aside to spread her wings. "You're an Agent of Creation, carrying a long knife?" she laughed, and flexed her wings. "Then what am I?"

  The red boy looked over at Russell. "Haven't you poor souls shared the TRUTH with her?" He traced a line of spark and smoke along the ground with the tip of his knife. "You've groomed for decades, HUMAN boy, and yet you haven't told her what she IS?"

  "Decades?" asked Anna, as she whirled to Russell. "How old are you?"

  The red boy flicked his knife on the ground, sending a shower of sparks into the air. "I'm not here for boy/girl foolishness! I CHASE, and I CUT, so you BLEED! You SCREAM and WAIL and I laugh as you DIE! You are FALSE angels, temptation incarnate, and your kind has sowed chaos in this world since the dawn of time."

  Anna laughed again. "A false angel, when you're the one with the knife?"

  The red boy took a step forward, and his body ignited with heat. His grin grew even more malevolent, as the thousands upon thousands of teeth in his mouth grew in size. Anna wanted to be strong, wanted to ignite the tips of her wings and burn the boy, but knew she was nothing compared to him.

  "Your mother was a GLUTTON, child of death, a fat little piggy who ate more than her fill. My elohim and I HUNT you to fix the balance." He raised his knife and waved it in the air, at the blanket of snow falling from the heavens. "The RAIN is coming, and the snow, and the flood, and the DROWNING DEATH of a billion souls. Your kind brought this unrelenting storm, and it shall DECIMATE you!"

  The red boy turned and skipped away back into the woods, humming a tune that was painful to Anna's ears.

  2

  A false angel?

  Of course, her people told her that wasn't what they referred to themselves as. They were the mastema, and their purpose was to guide men and steer them from their self-destructive natures.

  A cellphone call brought another car from her haven called Turendura, home to the mastema, located deep under frozen Lake Bomoseen. Gertina, an older, green-winged woman rode back with them. Gertina had been her mentor, the one who guided Anna from her arrival at the complex called Turendura, through to her Ascension. She helped her kill the child that was implanted in her by an elohim, and rebuked her when she strayed. Anna related to her what had happened. She sat with Anna now in a small room with a few other mastema watching, all wearing faces of fear and concern.

  "But that's what we really are; false angels?" asked Anna of Gertina.

  "Does it matter?" asked Gertina, spreading her red-tinged wings. Anna noticed the older the mastema, the more they needed to stretch their wings. Quietly, when she was alone with her friends, they would giggle at the rank smell they had, which even now made Anna turn away for some fresh air. "What we were is what we were; not what we are now. The same is true of the elohim; they began with such noble purpose, but have degenerated into what you have seen."

  "But . . . what have I seen?"

  "They devoured your mother!" snapped Gertina, who often shoved the death of Anna's mother into conversations to rebuke Anna. "Has the affection of a pretty boy made you forget? They devoured your mother, and yearned to devour you!"

  "Damned you!

  Anna ran out, down the hallway, and headed for her room. Russell ran along beside her, and walked by her side.

  "Go away," hissed Anna.

  "You need someone with you," said Russell.

  "How old are you anyway?" she demanded, coming to a stop. "How old -- tell me!"

  "I'm . . . I'm three hundred years old."

  Anna couldn't help but run her eyes over his lean, youthful body. "How?"

  "I live in a state of grace, being here, with your kind. I have faithfully groomed many before you, and will groom many yet to come."

  Suddenly, the word 'groom' sounded like it was being used in a different context than the one she was used to. "How do you groom us?"

  "I help you out of your shells," he explained with a soothing voice. "Most of you are born unaware of the power you possess, and how to control it. You are born as outcasts into this world of the human. You need to be awakened, both to your powers, and to your womanhood."

  Russell took a step forward, closing the space between them, and Anna, no matter how upset, couldn't move. His body was hot, and she could feel the blood pump hard within him. His skin was rough, and she wanted to run her fingers along its surface, trace the chiseled lines around his muscles.

  "What . . . what happened to my father?" she asked, with watery eyes. "What does my kind do to men we have mated with?"

  Russell drew back a little, averting his eyes from her gaze. "You do what nature wants you to do; it's different for each of you. If one of your kind is awakened by a groomer, then you will have control over your instincts. If not, well, you are formidable fighters, possessed of remarkable strength and viciousness but little control in your youth. Some men don't survive."

  An image of her father's face hung in Anna's mind, and she ran off, down the hall, back to her room where she closed and locked the door and flopped on her bed, crying.

  A few minutes later, a key was inserted in the lock, and the door opened.

  "Gertina?"

  It was dark in the room, and the figure stood in the light. Anna sat up and squinted, trying to make out its features.

  "Russell?"

  "Yes," he said in a confident voice she hadn't heard before. "It's time for your awakening."

  He rushed in and closed the door, and Anna screamed. In seconds he was on top of her. He was taller and stronger, and pinned her hands down to the bed with a remarkable quickness.

  "The time is growing short!" he hissed. "We have waited a long time for you, and you will not go further until you are groomed!"

  He was strong, and his lips hot as they pressed against her neck. Anna squirmed and struggled, but suddenly she felt his firmness against her leg. It was as if a switch was flicked inside her. Her wings spread out from her shoulders and enveloped them both, forming a protective cocoon. Anna's arms found their way around him, up into his shirt, and she moaned as she ran her hands down his muscular back.

  "Get away from my daughter!"

  Her wings were forced open, and Russell was pulled away and thrown against a wall. The light was switched on, and in the doorway stood Gertina. In front of her stood Darien, Anna's father. Anna couldn't take
any more; she passed out, slipping into a wonderful black oblivion.