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    Adam Thomas
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

The Death of an Angel - 2. One Last Good Hand

Dina was adamant I not take this lightly. As much as I hated to admit it, a screw up down there like back in receiving would end in exile for me. Arriving at the academy that thought made me shutter. As fucked up as I was, exile would be worse.

One would expect the Academy to be a grandiose building, full of activity and life. The reality couldn’t be farther from that. In reality the Academy occupies the lower three floors of a subterranean complex buried in a cloud formation loosely tethered to heaven.

Upon entry and after being directed down to the second of the three levels I met Dominic.

You must be Castiel.” His words were deliberate.

“And what If I am?”

“Then you should probably show some respect given that I’m going to be in charge of your time here. You can dislike me all you want, but you will respect me.”

Sometimes all you could do was sigh. I did just that and followed him as he started to walk down the hall. We stopped at a small, sparsely furnished office. The only adornment of any kind was the file folder sitting atop the desk.

“In that file you will find all you need to know about your ward. You are to make yourself familiar with it and then come find me for your training.” With those simple instructions he turned and strode out, leaving me alone with that folder.

Sitting down I opened it and was immediately struck by the photo laying on top. Whoever he was, he had the most stunning pair of emerald green eyes I’d ever seen. Reading on I was able to determine that those eyes belonged to one James Anthony Jackson, a bartender and native of Chicago, IL. He was older than me, at 26, by two years and according to the accompanying pages had thus far had a far less privileged life.

Beyond the photo and some basic background the folder was surprisingly empty. I expected there to be more information, and after that photo I was a bit disappointed there wasn’t.

Feeling cheated I closed the folder and stood to find Dominic. Wandering, I found him down the hall in a room with the curious title of ‘Imbibing.’ Upon sensing my presence he turned and handed me a vial of elixir.

“Training for you will be simple so drink up and let’s get you moving on.”

“How do I know this will, um, help me?” I couldn’t help but ask since anything that radiant and purple simply didn’t look like it would help.

“I can only help to prepare you for the task at hand. I cannot hurt you without divine intervention. Trust in the elixir and it will work just fine.”

Raising the vial to my lips I decided I had no real alternative to partaking in the liquid so I drank it and instantly felt my world fade to black.

Upon waking some time later I realized I had been brought to the mythical Heavenly Tube station. Very few angels had ever been here, and the stories had become legend within the community. Looking around I realized that the place was even more beautiful than I’d been told.

It was like being in the center of a giant iridescent ivory cloud. The space was large, grand, and one of the few places I’d been where you could actually walk on a cloud. It all felt so surreal but I had a task to complete and Dominic was prodding me toward the departures platform.

“You are ready for whatever may take place down there Castiel. Do not fear or doubt your instincts. Above all, trust and have faith. Good luck.”

With those words of encouragement I stepped onto the vessel that would deliver me at my destination. A simple cumulus cloud, puffy white and pure, would be my guide, its glide path clear all the way to my destination: the corner of State and Lake Streets in the heart of the district known as The Loop.

I was instantly assaulted by the sounds of the city. The streets around me were empty at this time of night, but the EL trains rumbled above me, the subway below. My goal over the next couple days was to familiarize myself with the city, as well as find a way to sustain myself during my time here.

It had rained recently and the smell of ozone was thick in this part of the city. It might have almost been relaxing once upon a time. The ground shook slowly beneath me and I knew that this was going to be one hell of a challenge to not turn around and run away - not that there was anywhere to run. This was all so new to me.

Looking around for I took a deep breath, sighed, and sighted the river a block away. Moving toward it I couldn't help but think that if the rest of the city could be this much of a mix of modernity and nature maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

My leg vibrated. Realizing there was something in my pocket I reached in and pulled it out. Huh. A phone. Leave it to Dominic to sneak this very unconventional device in while no one was looking.

Waking up the screen I saw there was a message waiting.

"Remember, it's not the end of the world. Find a job. Find your ward. Protect him."

Copyright © 2013 Adam Thomas; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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