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Angels of Anaheim

Author's note: This was written by a dream I had. THIS IS REVISED!! It's not the same as the original, so...  Show full author's note »
Author's note: This was written by a dream I had. THIS IS REVISED!! It's not the same as the original, so 'Adam's Story' does not apply to this!  « Hide author's note
Chapters:   « Previous 1 ... 4 5 6 7 8 9 ... 19 Next »

Chapter Six

I got back to Dad’s house. Bear was still there, ready to greet me with slobbery dog kisses. He and I continued our routine of watching Letterman and Ferguson on the couch. The first night home, we sat there, watching Letterman’ s Top Ten. Bear’s Neanderthal head lay in my lap, and I stroked his muzzle and giggled to myself about the show.
It was fun, until I heard something hit the floor in the kitchen. I stood. If Mr. Orange Eyes was really killed, someone might be out for revenge. I couldn’t see anyone, or hear anything but the audience on the TV laughing. I carefully went behind the couch and peered into the kitchen.
I grabbed a driver from my dad’s golf bag. I wasn’t taking any chances. My heart thudded as I came around the corner. I held the club with both hands, ready to swing. Memories of that night flooded my brain. I whipped around, ready to face the intruder.
The intruder must have been invisible, because he was nowhere to be seen. I looked on the floor, and a bowl lay there, mocking me. I sighed as I realized that I had sat it on the edge of the counter after I used it to feed Bear. Yes, he needs bowls of food. He’s that ravenous. I sat the driver on the counter, picked up the bowl, and put it in the sink.
Suddenly, a shadow was cast over me. My heart was moving at the speed of light. Someone - or thing - was behind me. I turned slightly, not yet seeing who it was. Whoever it was, he was big. And wide. I knew this was something weird. I turned a little more, and my heart hit the ground with what I saw; the end of a black-feather-tipped wing. It moved as if it was attached to something breathing. I turned a little more, and saw that it was.
My eyes instantly went to two shining red objects. They were eyes. Glowing red eyes. They were attached to a body that was massive without wings. This thing was made out of a broad chest behind a black shirt, two muscular arms that ran down his sides, both covered with something that I couldn’t make out in the dark. He was taller than me, and black, messy hair came to right above his eyes. He had large hands that would easily snap my neck. Small flashes of silver came from his nose and lower lip.
I braced myself against the counter so that if he hit me, the counter would sever my spinal cord and I wouldn’t feel a thing when he plundered me. I didn’t say a word, and neither did he. It was the silence before the storm.
I heard growling. It wasn’t the thing, though. It was Bear. He walked around and stood right in front of me, ready to eat the thing alive. The thing’s eyes followed him. Bear’s growling grew to the point that every inhale and exhale was another bone-chilling growl.
The thing’s upper lip curled into a snarl. Bear’s back legs curled into a spring. Both were thinking bad things. I gasped as I realized the madness that was about to ensue. Before I could grab Bear’s collar, he had sprung, and sent he and the thing into a roll, slamming into the refrigerator. I realized that Dad would hear it, and come running down the stairs, so I lunged for Bear, putting him into a never-before-seen wrestling hold, and yanked backwards.
My strength surprised me, and his back met my belly, knocking the wind out of me. He scrambled off me, but I held fast to his thick collar. He started to drag me before the thing leapt on to the kitchen table. I’m not sure he realized that Bear was a Saint Bernard, and he dwarfs everything. He couldn’t bark because the more he pulled the more I choked him. I started to pull backward, and grabbed the cable that we used to tie him to the foot of the table.
Latching it to his collar, I let go, and let him fight all he wanted. The thing was still perched on the table, glaring. Bear had sunk his teeth into his cheekbone, and a gash was there, pulsing more blood out with every heartbeat. He was breathing hard. I stood up, and watched as the wound closed itself, and the blood evaporated into thin air.
I couldn’t say a word. My voice box had shriveled up and died. Everything in my body had failed. The thing slowly got off the table, alternatively watching Bear and I. He swallowed, but I couldn’t do one thing but stare. I had no idea what he was, but he was straight from a Stephen King novel.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice cracking slightly. I’d heard his voice before. He knew my name. He saved me that night.
“I think,” was all I managed.
“I didn’t want to scare you. I guess that’s hard with a thing like me, though,” he said. I just nodded.
“Uh…” he said as he ran his fingers through his black hair. I slowly sank to the ground. “You sure you’re fine?” he asked. I nodded. He knelt on the floor, getting to my level. Bear jumped and snapped at him, but it did no good.
“You’re Madison, right?” he asked.
“Maddie,” I managed.
“Alright,” he said as he pulled a piece of paper from his jeans pocket. He put it on the floor and slid it to me. I reached out with my shaky fingers and picked it up. I looked back at him.
“Are you an angel?” I asked as I swallowed. He shook his head.
“Far from it, darling,” he said, half smiling. It made my skin crawl when he called me that. I opened the paper, and forced my hands to hold still as I read the impeccably handwritten letter. I had just enough moonlight to do so;

Dear Ms. Madison Christina Dunn;

We hope no peril has come to you since your last encounter with the gentleman that sits with you now. It was a terrible thing, and we apologize for it. It should have never taken place, and we will see to it that it never again occurs.

This letter is to discuss important matters with you. We understand that you are very confused, and more than likely frightened by these happenings. This is where you must read carefully and take in this information.

You have been chosen from a vast majority of Anaheim, California citizens of a similar age to be a Demon Slayer. Your job would be to hunt and destroy demons that threaten mankind. The gentleman delivering this letter would aid you in your duties, seeing that you would be fighting an altogether more advanced being. This is a very important job, albeit one that most have no knowledge of and is particularly dangerous.

You now have two choices. You may; 1) Accept this offer, as it would be beneficial to you, your friends, your family, and the gentleman seated with you. Or you may 2) Decline, and you will no longer be troubled with us or our kind. The only thing we ask is that you decline promptly, as we must take action to erase the unpleasant memories that you now possess.

You have twenty-four hours from the time you finish this letter to accept or decline. If no answer is given, you will be contacted, and it will be acted upon as a decline, appropriate actions will be taken, and your position will be eliminated.

We appreciate your time and sacrifices for this. Your twenty-four hours will be counted up until the last moment, so you may think as you wish. We hope you accept this invitation.

We will be eagerly awaiting your answer, Ms. Dunn. Anaheim relies on your decision.

Yours very truly,
Melinda and Michael
Chancellor and Co-Chancellor of the Demon Slayers of Anaheim, California

______ I Accept this offer, and understand my duties.
______ I Decline this offer, and understand that appropriate actions will be taken.

The only thing I could think was various words that are expressed with the signs @#$%! I slowly looked up from the paper, and met the thing’s red eyes. They burned like embers slowly melting crystallized rubies now that he had relaxed. Bear had given up on the fight and lay with his head on the ground in between his paws.
“What kind of cruel joke is this? Demons? Really?” I asked.
“It’s not a joke. I’m your proof,” he said. I guess he had a point.
“What does it mean by ‘taking appropriate actions’?” I asked.
“It’s very painful. Not a smart choice,” he said. I nodded.
“I have twenty-four hours?”
“I need to think.”
“That’s fine,” he said as he stood, “I’ll be back tomorrow evening.”
“Hey,” I said, and regretted it. He turned.
“Yes?” He waited.
“Did…you save me?” I asked. He nodded. “What’s your name?” I asked. He reached his hand out to me.
“Adam,” he said. I thought for a moment before taking his hand, and gently shaking it. His hand made mine look like a baby’s. Things were marked all over it. He smiled partway. “You’re a fragile little thing,” he commented.
“Pipes do that to you,” I said. “One more thing,” I said as I released his hand, “What did you mean by ‘game over’?”
“Oh.” he said, “How’d you like my mind control?” My heart went THUD!
“Mind…control?” I squeaked.
“Yeah. How’d you think you got to the hospital? I didn’t take you,” he said.
“You…got in my brain…and…” I stuttered. He nodded.
“If I would have taken you, well…,” he looked at his wings, “It wouldn’t have been very discreet.” He had a point. And I was told that I came in on my own. “Like the letter says, you have twenty-four hours. See you then.”
I looked up from the paper, only to see that Adam was gone. On the floor lay a solitary black feather. Bear looked at me, then the feather, realizing that thing was gone. He raised his head, then stood. I stood up, unlatched the cable, and picked up the feather. I later put it in between the pages of a dictionary so I could prove this to people when they guys in white coats came for me.
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