Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
In The Arms of an Angel - 6. Chapter 6 - Who Are the Bad Guys
The men looked scarier up close. Their faces were stony, as if a smile would hurt.
“We’re looking for someone… something.”
“Something?” Pasha licked his lips and wiped his palms on his jeans. He was sure he must look as guilty as hell.
“Did you see anything strange last night? Any… unusual beings.”
“What do you mean? Unusual beings?”
The man held up the feather, twirling it in his fingers. “You might have mistaken it for an… angel.”
Pasha laughed. “An angel? Yeah, right. As if. Sorry, we don’t get too many angels around here. I’m sure we’d have noticed if we’d seen one.” He laced his voice with as much sarcasm as he could.
“So you saw nothing unusual?” He kept twirling the feather and Pasha’s mind raced. There was no point saying he hadn’t seen anything because the feather said something different.
“Well… now you come to mention it there was a god-almighty flash of lightening. I mean fucking crazy. We thought it might have struck the barn in the next field. The daft punk rooster was squawking fit to burst.” He hoped to God they didn’t check for a barn in the next field because he had no idea if there was one. “We looked out of the window and there was something sniffing around the car. I don’t know what it was. It was so dark, all we could see was a shape. We figured it was a dog run off, scared by the storm or something. Didn’t take too close a look, just in case—it looked big.”
“I see. And that’s all?”
“Yeah. That’s all. Sorry I didn’t see any angels.”
The man leaned forward slightly and stared into his eyes. “Mock all you please, but this creature is dangerous. He’s beautiful and seems sweet and soft but trust me, he isn’t. He’s a bloodthirsty warrior who’d cut your throats in a minute if he thought he needed to.” He straightened again. “He was tried and sentenced but escaped punishment. He’s on the run and deadly dangerous. If you see him, call. Do not try to approach him and whatever you do, don’t invite him into your home.” The man handed over a card. It was thick and creamy with raised writing on it. Pasha glanced at it. The writing was strange, curly and indecipherable. The numbers though, were clearly a telephone number, although he didn’t recognise the exchange.
“Sure. If I see anything I’ll call.”
“It’s important, sir. Not just your safety but that of your family and possibly the whole neighbourhood is in jeopardy. This creature is not what it seems. It’s rogue and dangerous.”
“I… I understand. I promise I’ll call if see anything strange.”
The men nodded and turned away. As they crossed the yard they looked up at the window. Pasha’s heart stopped. What did they see? Surely the angel wouldn’t have been stupid enough to stand close enough to be seen.
As soon as the men were out of sight, Pasha ran into the kitchen. Lukas and Anna were eating breakfast. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” he gasped, taking a gulp of Lukas’ coffee.
“Hey, that’s mine. What’s going on?”
“Two guys just knocked the door asking if we’d seen anything strange. Apparently they’re hunting a rogue angel, an escaped criminal who’d cut our throats in a minute if he thought he needed to.” He pushed the card across the table. They all stared at it. A day ago they’d have dismissed the whole thing from their minds.
“The thing is— the angel knew they were coming. He came running upstairs and begged me to help him because someone was coming who was going to hurt him.”
“Shit. Who do we believe? What did the angel say?”
“Nothing really. He said he couldn’t remember why he was scared.”
“Yeah, that’s a convenient excuse isn’t it?”
“He seemed so genuine,” Anna said.
Pasha nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Are you sure? What if he is dangerous?”
“Then I’ll yell. I don’t believe them, Lukas. I just can’t. I know he’s not evil. I don’t know how, I just do. Look, let me talk to him, then you talk to him and if you’re not convinced you can call the number on the card.”
“Be careful.”
The angel was still crouched on the floor, huddled against the bed. He looked up when Pasha entered and his eyes were pleading. Pasha crouched down next to him. “Are you alright?”
“Scared, Pasha. They… they want me. Want to hurt me.” His eyes were so wide, so innocent, so beautiful.
No, he couldn’t get lost in his eyes, not now. He couldn’t let himself be fooled by a beautiful face… a very beautiful face.
“Do you know who they are?”
The angel shook his head. “They’re bad men, Pasha,” he moaned. “They’ll hurt me.”
“They said you’re the bad man.”
“No. No, Pasha. I’m not bad. I… I know I’m not. I’m not bad.”
“You don’t remember. How can you be sure?”
The angel shrunk away from him, shaking his head. His eyes were wide and terrified. “Please,” he whispered. “Please. I’m not… I’m not bad. I don’t remember but… but I… I know I’m not bad… not like them. Please believe me, Pasha.”
“They said you were a warrior, that you might hurt us.”
“Oh no, Pasha, no, I’d never hurt you. Or your family. I… I like you. I… more than like you.” He fluttered his eyelashes and looked up at him through the golden fans.
Pasha shook his head. “I can’t be blinded by the way you say you feel about me.”
“Say? You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t know what to believe.”
“You don’t… believe me.” The angel turned away from him and slid onto the floor, curling on his side sobbing heart wrenching sobs. Pasha looked at him in horror. How could he believe this sweet, scared, pathetic creature was a bloodthirsty escaped criminal?
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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