Chapter 6: November 21st – New York – Evening

An interlude from the main story, I think this is the best piece since Chapter 2 to be honest. It's not a full chapter, like I said more of an interlude while everything is getting sorted. Chapter 7 should be a lot of information on what the Angel has been doing.

Chapter 6: November 21st – New York – Evening

            The door opens to a one bedroom apartment in Happy Hills Manor in uptown New York. When the door is securely closed, a long black trench coat and a triple-extra-large t-shirt fall to the ground. The owner of the apartment walks along the hallway and turns right into the modern kitchen, reflections from various appliances shows the owner’s scared skin as he passes them to put the mail on the counter. He passes the counter and into the darkened front room. Blinds are closed letting no natural light inside of the apartment. The man goes to the coffee table and picks up the remote turning on the television.

            Television commercials provide background noise as the man walks to his mirror. He feels tired as he stands hunched back in front of the mirror, but the reflection shows anything but tired, it showed him perfection. A man in his 20’s standing at 5’10 but if he stands straight it’s closer to 6’3. His oceanic blue eyes scans his body in the mirror from the long blonde hair to the bungee cords wrapped around his chest, and his cut up jeans he’s currently wearing. Slowly he undresses himself, taking off his pants and underwear in front of the mirror revealing his castrated crotch just a scared up patch of discoloured skin where his cock should be. The discolouration, scars, and the hunched back are all minor inconveniences to his beauty, especially when he shows his metallic wings.

            When the bungee cords are undone they fall to the ground and the wings unfold themselves springing into place. There’s enough room for the wings to spread out to their 3 meter span without wrecking anything. The springs in the wings push the wings open as soon as the cords fall to the ground, hinges inside the wings allow them to fold both ways shifts so the wings can naturally unfold themselves. The secondary coverts near the neck will sometimes cut when the wings open creating a fresh scar on the back and shoulder blades of the angel. The edges of the wings are sharp, sharp enough with a bit of hip movement it’s able to cut someone. The exposed back of the Angel shows three bolt implants per wing that holds the wing in place on his back. The steel bolts have skin healing over the implants except for the lower ones, which are slowly ripping his skin as it pulls out of the man’s back every time he opens his wings with a hunched back. Blood trickles downs the back of the man and down his buttocks, he is perfection.

            He looks to the clock above the TV, it’s time for church. He turns around and re-enters the hallway, his wings scratching chunks of paint off the walls as he walks into his bedroom. The bedroom is covered in computer wire from the walls, ceiling, and to the floor covered in wire. A broken mattress lies on top of useless computer wire in the corner of the room. The centerpiece of the room is near the back, a large man-sized wooden cross wrapped in wiring with a monitor on the top looking downwards with a mouse, keyboard, and a microphone at the foot of the cross. The wiring on the cross connects to various CPU parts scattered around the room but in places where his wings couldn’t severe the connection to the monitor on the cross. His wings bends easily so he can walk through the door frame and into his bedroom, “Doctor, your angel is here.” A lowly voice leaves his lips.

            As he makes his way into his room he falls to his knees in front of the cross. He looks up meeting the computer monitor staring right at him. What he just spoken is on the screen, a black screen with white text and a blinking cursor underneath it. Then a reply is shown on the screen, it reads Hello, my angel. How are you doing today? The man takes a deep breath, “I’m tired sir.” The microphone by his knees catches his words and translates it on the screen, he simply waits for reply.

                Why are you tired? Would rest make you feel better? Is the reply, the angel drew a short breath. “I’ve done all you’ve asked, that’s why I’m tired.” He responded to the microphone and again the computer types what he said to the screen and again he waits for the reply. The replies usually happen within 1-2 minutes, depending how much is said.

                Then rest my angel, you’ve done good. A sigh of relief overcame the man.

                “Thank you, amen.” The computer screen shuts off at the word amen and the angel’s sermon has finished. He’s been given a period of rest, which will do him some good. He gets up from the kneeling position and walks to his bed, falling down on it. He lands on the broken mattress on his back, wings from the force of impact curl around him because of the hinges. He closes his eyes thinking of his mission he’s been sent to do by the lord.