Authors: Janice Hadden
“
The
same goes for our power of persuasion…of course, back then, we
did not dare abuse such powers. We used it to calm a situation or
give peace to those who were in the brink of despair. Now, the
dephils only use it for their self interest.” I tried to look
unfazed as I listened intently.
“
The
more physical attributes we possess are our ability to be invisible
to the human eye. We can also transform into any living thing or any
creature we want,” I gulped at the sudden memory that flooded
my memory; Tristan, trying to take my life as a child.
“
We‘re
very strong physically and possess certain powers that vary by our
ranks…besides myself, there are very few archangels that have
fallen.”
“
You’re
an archangel?”
“
Yes…but
that doesn’t really matter now…as much as it mattered in
heaven,” his expression was hard.
“
All
angels have the ability to fly but our speed and strength vary…again,
depending on our rank…archangels are the only ones who has the
power of compulsion.” I gulped as the thought of Tristan’s
ability to compel me registers in my brain. I couldn’t really
process it yet.
“
You
said…when you were hurt, the dephils overpowered you…and
that you didn’t know why at the time, but do you know now? Is
it simply because there were many against you?”
“
No…I
can take out thousands of fallen or at least incapacitate them for a
while,” his face darkened, like the ability to do so, burdened
him.
“
So…
why…?”
“
Association
with mortals can make us weak. We can gain emotions like humans that
can make us vulnerable…but it’s a matter of learning. I
have learned to concentrate on channeling them.”
Suddenly,
he took my hand before I could process the information in my head and
ask for more specifics. I wanted to know more, but I guess it’ll
have to wait.
“
Come,
I’ll give you a tour of the rest of the house.” We went
upstairs to an open
space.
It had a large pool table and several sectioned seating.
“
The
pool table was here when I bought the place. The same obviously goes
with the
appliances.”
“
I
sort of figured,” I said, as my eye automatically caught
something from a close distance. At the east wing of the room, I was
surprised to see a collection of instruments. I walked closer. On the
walls, hung three acoustic guitars, five electric guitars, two bass
guitars, two saxophones and in the middle of the room sat a very
shiny black grand piano.
It
looked like a music store in here or some rock band’s session
room.
“
You
play all these instruments?” my tone spiked in admiration.
“
I
know how to play any instrument,” he said it with so much less
enthusiasm than I anticipated, as if having any talent is something
to be taken for granted.
“
Playing
any instrument is something all angels possess, we have quite an
ability
on
learning very quickly.”
“
So,
angels like music?”
“
Yes…I
guess we do,” he answered, as if he just realized it himself.
“
Play
me something!” I eagerly suggested.
“
Your
choice,” he pointed toward his collection.
I
grabbed one of the acoustic guitars, carefully unhooking it from
where it displayed on the west wall. He sat on one of the black
stools next to me. He began to play. It was an unfamiliar melody, but
it was beautiful. Then, he started singing. It almost caught me off
guard. He had an amazing voice. His voice was ethereal. A voice of an
angel. I was lost in the most breathtaking and exhilarating melody I
have never heard before. When he finished, I was still dazed. I
didn’t quite realize that his voice would sound so different
than what I had envisioned of how angels sounded like in my mind.
Nothing about it was familiar, but it was simply
exquisite
.
“
That
was amazing…I have never heard anything like it.”
“
Thank
You, but I don’t really think of it as a talent the way humans
do.” His comment made me a little sad but decided to brush off
my opinion for now.
“
Shall
we?” he held out his hand as he leaned the guitar on the side
wall. I took his hand as we went to another room.
His
bedroom.
It
was surrounded by white walls.
I
shivered immediately at the empty cold that didn‘t feel very
welcoming—no lamps, no dressers, no mirrors. The only one
sitting was a king size bed. His gray sheets, crisp, clean and
perfectly made. Besides being orderly, it looked nothing like mine.
“
Do
you sleep?” I whispered. I didn’t want to assume
anything, even though, I knew that his body wouldn’t need rest.
But seeing the bed made me think that maybe there was at least one
thing that wasn’t so different between us, though, obviously,
it could have been here also when he bought the house.
“
I
don’t need to sleep,” his words were low, almost tired.
“
Sometimes,
I close my eyes and lie down and just imagine how it would feel
like—the drifting of reality into something different—an
escape, a rest from existence,” his eyes dimmed. Darkness
dominated his expression. His voice saddened me more than anything.
This whole thing must have felt like a curse to him—a never
ending circle of a trapped reality. It made me extremely sad to know
that he had been
suffering
for so long. I couldn’t even imagine his pain of lonely
existence. It was too much for my thoughts to enter—too dark
for me to completely comprehend. I thought about my dreams and
nightmares, how I wanted to escape from them to never ever sleep if I
could. This new perspective gave me the tiniest glimpse of
appreciation. Then, from across the room, I stared at the enclosed
wooden door.
“
What
will I find in your closet?” I blurted, trying to sound
enthusiastic. Though, I wasn’t necessarily faking it. I was
very much intrigued how his wardrobe looked like. His eyes slightly
narrowed.
“
Not
much just a few items,” he said in a flat response.
“
Do
you mind?”
“
No…not
at all.” Just then, I went toward to open his closet door. Sure
enough…it was halfway empty—black, long sleeve shirts,
black and gray pants and a couple of black vests. Several black and
white items were folded at the bottom which might have been t-shirts.
I also spotted, black boots and dress shoes.
I
slid the other side and found hanging, a couple of Levis and military
inspired jackets and coats—and of course, they were all in the
hues of gray and black. Then, something caught my eye…folded
jeans—mostly black, but some were dark denim—the only
items in his wardrobe that had any hint of color. I wondered briefly
how would that be like—to have never seen other colors before.
Even
though, I wanted to ask so badly if he had bought these items
intentionally for their color rather than taste, I decided not to
question it. Instead, I quickly toned down my emotion, trying not to
set off his pessimistic mood.
“
You’re
probably wondering about my black and white wardrobe?”
“
Uhm,
a little,” I admitted.
“
I
guess, since these are the only colors I can see, I preferred to wear
something…well, I wanted you to see my clothes the way I see
them. I really wasn’t sure why it was important to me.” I
looked at him now, his face deep and unreadable.
“
Well,
as it turned out, I really like black and white clothing. And I‘m
not just saying that for your benefit,” I smiled.
Just
then, he held my hand and I quivered. His touch, warm. We sat in bed
and I twisted myself to face him. Silence suddenly surrounded us. A
few seconds passed before I asked him another question.
“
Tell
me more about fallen angels…tell me about
you
.”
A spark of glimmer was suddenly in his eyes. The pressure in my chest
slowly lifted from his positive reaction.
“
Angels’
bodies are unlike humans, we’re not young nor old. Being born
was something we never experienced. We’ve always been this way.
We don’t grow up…or age—aging has something to do
with dying. I suppose if you were to think in human years, I‘d
be between seventeen to twenty one—that‘s the age when
you’re neither young nor old. But wisdom-wise, I am older than
the world. I’m immortal until the end of time.” A sudden
trace of sadness passed his face—his expression grim. I
processed the thought for a moment—feeling the heavy burden in
his heart. My chest tightened.
“
I’m
sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” he abruptly said.
“
I’m
not scared,” I said. The truth was maybe I should be, but I
wasn’t. At least not in that sense. I felt sad more than
anything, but the sadness scares me in a different way.
He
stared at me. His face downcast.
“
I’m
not…” I sternly said. “I think you’re
perfect. I wish you‘d see…”
“
Perfect!…don’t
ever say I’m perfect.” A growl escaped his lips. His
voice thundered.
His
eyes flashed dim, dark and dangerous. For a moment, I felt genuinely
afraid. He
looked
at me intense. “Katheryna…would you be with someone who
was a murderer?…because that‘s what I am,” his
voice was stern. His eyes, full of
revulsion
and self loathing. I couldn’t speak. I felt overwhelmed by the
mountain of weight I had to lift to free him from all the guilt that
he had been holding on to. It was an impossible task.
“
What
you fail to see is…I’m the worst of
all
…
of
everything
…
and
the fact that you don’t seem to grasp that, makes me realize
that, you really have no idea who I am and what I’m capable
of.”
I
felt like a massive rock just hit me.
How
could he say that! Did he think that I had just forgotten his
confession…the attempt in my life!…my erased memories!
“
Tristan!…you
think I don’t understand but I do!…maybe too well…but,
what you don’t seem to also understand is that, in more ways,
it wouldn’t have mattered…because I have fallen in love
with you. Yes, I have fallen for a fallen…and you can hate…or
be mad about that if you want to…but I couldn’t change
my feelings even if I wanted to…I‘m only human.”
Suddenly,
silence sliced between us like an invisible wall.
I
can’t believe I just said that. Would my openness fuel more of
his self hate?
I
buried my face in my palms. I couldn’t bare to see his
reaction. It took eternity for me to hear his voice. He took my hands
and held it.
“
I’m
so sorry. Sometimes, I truly wish I didn’t exist. Why should
you listen to all these. Why should I complicate your life and worse,
why should your life be in danger because of me?” he gasped. I
lifted his face and I could still see the deep torment in his eyes.”
“
Well,
you do exist!…and you’re here!…and I care!…and…I
love you!…so deal with it!” I yelled, hoping my hard
edged tone will snap him out of all his self imposed guilt and
all the punishment he’d inflicted on himself.
“
Yes…I
can deal with it, but not at your expense,” he countered.
“
You’re
impossible,” I said, my voice was soft. I knew I had to be
patient with him. I stared at him then, and I could see my words had
scraped something on the surface. Up to this point, I just couldn’t
seem to process that he is a different being—that his existence
was so entirely different than what I am but yet he looked so…
human
.
I also realized that these new emotions are difficult for him to
understand, but I simply couldn’t let him give in.
“
Katheryna,
I want you to know that I have the ability to persuade you, and make
you feel safe with me…believe me…there’s nothing
more I want, than for you not to feel afraid…of me, but I
really am who I claim to be,” he stated. I knew it was a
warning.
“
When
I fell…I was given over to who I wanted to be and had become
that… and that, had been my master for a very long time. The
changes in me, they’re still new and foreign, they overlap each
other and for a very long time, I couldn’t trust that I would
always do the right thing for you,” his voice was low.