Strings Of Fate

Chapter 64: The strings strain

    The room was dark...His body sore and cold. Face rough and dry. An odor lingered in the air as he came too. The crystal around his neck was dim, it flickered as if deciding whether or not to stay on. The faint pink glow illuminated the outline of a body in front.

    Angel quickly sat up fresh tears threatening his eyes. "Alastor!" He reached out, "I had this horrible nightmare that you-" the body was ice cold. Unmoving. A sharp gasp left him as he moved back, a hand flying to cover his mouth. The tears fell, his jaw hanging open as the realization washed over him. He almost gagged at the horrid smell. "No..." He shook his head. "No..no..no..no...no...no..no...NO..NO..NO!"

    It was real..it had all happened. 

    Alastor was dead....he was gone. 

    The sobs fought to take over him once again. 

    His legs were weak but he urged himself up with the help of something behind him. With the crystal shifting, he realized the corpse was lying in a puddle of liquid. It looked almost black...Angel gagged again unable to tear his eyes away from the site. 

    Despite this, his vision was suddenly taken away. Something covering his eyes. It felt cold...so cold. It warranted Angel to flinch away but what he saw made his eyes widen. 

    It looked like that wendigo which only added to his fear..but the blue indicated it was not. 

    "Ace?" Angel almost cried as the creature frowned at him, its hollow face expressing sorrow. "H-how are you here?" It did not answer, unable to speak. It only glanced at the corpse shaking its head. Angel glanced in that direction but the shadow held an arm to shield the view. 

    It moved with the shadows, appearing behind Angel all too suddenly, tugging at his arm. The fact that he could touch him was unusual. "He's gone, Ace.." Angel's lips trembled, his throat threatening to crush under the pressure it felt. 

    The shadow only continued to tug on Angel's arm to get his attention. When he finally looked the shadow was pointing at something. It took him a moment to realize it was the stairs. 

    Angel's mind felt crowded, it made his head hurt. His heartfelt hollow and cold and he wanted to cry again despite his body having no more tears. He wanted to collapse there and cry. Yet knew he couldn't stay here forever. 

    So he let Ace guide him to the stairs, in his haze and the darkness he did not see the shadow grab the journal laying on the desk. Or how it stored the book into its body. 

    It was all a blur, apart of Angel questioning if this was real. If Ace was real if any of it had been real. Was Alastor ever alive? Was there even an Alastor to begin with? Or was it that demon all along..stringing him along? Messing with him..was he just going to be eaten by it at some point? 

    Was it all a lie? 

    With the amount of crying done, he was sure his body was dehydrated. His mind felt broken, shattered, along with his heart. Yet he hoped, for what? He was unsure...

    A blink, darkness, and then he found himself no longer in Alastor's home. Or whoever that home belonged to. No instead he was sitting on the steps of...somewhere. His eyes hallow, a frown plaguing his mind. His body was on auto piolet, mind practically shut down. 

    Angel didn't even notice where he was, or that his pet pig, fat nuggets, was on his lap squealing concerningly at him. Ace wasn't far, hiding in Angel's own shadow. Keeping a careful eye on him.