It was all a very good plan, and one better than what I could have thought up myself. It did indeed make me very happy.
Jasper crawled over to the couch and yawned. He then curled up into a ball. "So, what do you think?"
I sat down beside him and said, "I think it sounds amazing. And he's not going to get hurt, is he?"
"Probably not. Ariel's going to be there. It'll be fine. You know how all that archangel stuff works."
I leaned back into the pillows. "Uh, not really actually. I'm just a guardian angel. They're special, I'm a nobody."
"Tell that to Anthony."
"I might."
He looked up at me. His pupils almost covered all the color in his eyes. He then stretched again and said, "He won't like that much. He certainly thinks you're something."
I leaned back and sighed, "I wonder why."
Jasper tilted his head. "Do you want to go find out?"
"Sure. I'd love to know what they're all doing right now," I hummed as I stood up. I grabbed my jacket and brushed it off. I then looked back at Jasper and said, "If you happen to switch to your other form, don't get your fur on this. It's velvet and linen, and I have no intention on taking it to be cleaned anytime soon."
I then put it on and looked in the mirror. My hair was messy, so I ran my fingers through it a few times to fluff it out. It felt oily. Perhaps it was around time for it to be washed again. -Not that the state of my hair mattered at that moment. I just wanted to look nice and fancy for Anthony.
"Ready?" I asked.
"I suppose so," Jasper answered. He skipped to the door.
I shot a glare at him. "I wasn't talking to you, idiot," I growled. I then walked out the door before him. With more joy than ever I carried myself to the jail, just as fast as I could move myself. I didn't care if Jasper was behind my or not. He was, however, at the ends of my heels, in his cat form.
I went to the work yard. Nobody was out, not even the guards, so I hopped the fence. Jasper slipped through one of the holes near the ground.
"Are there any windows around here?" I asked. He then looked up. So did I. The only windows were on the second floor. They were so high up.
Obviously, the only logical answer was to scale the building. I glanced around. There were no guards, so I went ahead and grabbed the stones. Every pull felt like my muscles were being snapped. I was not meant for climbing, but a lot of things happened that weren't meant to be.
I chose the window of an empty cell. Damn. Not my Anthony, but at least it wasn't some criminal. I looked back at Jasper and waved him up. In record time he reached the window.
"Can you go find one where I can see what's happening? Come back when you find one."
He then scurried off, and I waited, hoping not to be seen. It felt like forever before he came back. I was worried I missed most of the fun, but it was just beginning.
Jasper led me to a window. I had to scoot all the way there. The bricks against my palms caused them to bleed and blister. Poor Anthony had to scrape his hands on these very stones everyday. Poor Anthony, was inside with Manaphel and Ariel. He was running. For once, Manaphel wasn't wearing heels. She was however, wearing inhuman attire. She wore a set of dark robes and trousers which were bedazzled with various gemstones from Hell. She also had a pitchfork. That was not a trait of Hell, but something humans believed was there. Of course she did it for the irony.
Ariel on the other hand was holding a white shield and a sword
They were dressed in linen. Blood was smeared across the front of it. They were protecting Anthony from the flying bullets from guards. A true solider from Heaven. I could never be that, not even close to it. They were everything admirable, yet they were doing the wrong thing, and keeping secrets from Heaven. Maybe the best soldiers had the easiest time hiding sins.
Then there was Anthony. He was still in his jail outfit. There was a large spot of oozing blood training from his shoulder to his abdomen. He seemed paler than usual. Had he been shot? It occurred to me that he most likely had. If I were down there I would have carried him.
But after feeling a ping in my chest, playing dead was my best option. I looked down. There was a hole in my shirt. I had been shot. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, I thought as I fell back. The ground certainly wasn't soft. Still, I couldn't wince, I couldn't even breathe. A guard was standing over me. He even kicked me once to see if I was dead.
Of course I seemed dead. Still, he had to kick a seemingly dead body. After he was satisfied he went on his merry way. I waited a few minutes before sitting up again. I then looked at the hole in my shirt. It then occurred to me that there would be a hole in my jacket, and that it would be stained from the grass too.
I pushed myself to my feet. "Shit, shit shit!" I whined as I stumbled around. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I have to let them see me? Why'd I have to show up manifested? For Heaven's sake, how could I have been so stupid?
It then occurred to me that being there was also probably stupid. To keep moving was my only option. I glanced around. The woods would be safe, but that's the first place they'd look for Anthony.
If the hadn't caught him already.
I needed to know that first. I darted into the woods. The trees provided cover. I never strayed too far from the jail though. Seeing the entrance was my top priority. Soon he'd be busting through those doors. If not, he was captured.
But then where would Manaphel and Ariel be? And where was Jasper?
Oh my, I was all alone.
Well, at least I had options. I could sit down and cry till something happened, or I could go in there and see what was happening. Crying seemed easy, but seeing what was happening seemed entertaining.
It's not like I would have been killed if anything bad happened anyways.
The doors at the front of the jail were big and black. After rubbing on the doors for a moment, I determined they were made of concrete. I tugged at the handle once. Nothing budged.
"Hm."
I tugged at it again, but this time with much more force. They flung open towards me. On the other side was Manaphel, Ariel, and Anthony. All of them were flattened against the floor.
Manaphel looked up at me. "Oridon, what the hell?"
"What?" I simply asked. I didn't care much about what Manaphel had to say. Anthony was right in front of me. Blood still ran down the front of his shirt.
Ariel smacked at Manaphel. "Daft demon I told you they were push doors and not pull! Come on now!"
Manaphel and Ariel scurried to their feet. Anthony didn't move, he just stared at me. Tears lined the corners of his eyes. His lips were parted. It was like he was pleading for help.
He needed me, really.
I knelt down and cradled him in my arms. Now I was bloody too. Oh my Anthony.
"It'll be alright. Don't worry."
He closed his eyes and whispered, "I don't want to die. I don't want to die, Ollie."
I wiped some of the tears from his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
I then stood up and followed after Ariel and Manaphel. Anthony clung tight to my shirt as I ran. We went deep into the woods, but not deep enough. It always sounded like there were dogs right behind us.
"Ariel we need to get out of here!" I called out, "They're close!"
They turned back to me and shouted, "You've got wings, Oridon. Maybe use them for once! We're headed back to Manaphel's!"
I'm not much for flight. I prefer my feet on the ground and my head level. I neglected my wings. The plucking and picking just took too much time - and it was messy too. How was I supposed to explain that to Ariel?
How would Anthony feel?
"Uh, yeah little issue with that Ariel!"
"What?"
"Can't fly, and I don't fly."
They groaned, "Fine, you two go. I'll be there later."
A moment later we were far enough away from the impending danger. They were battling against dogs and humans. For sure, Heaven would find out about this. With the human souls after all, for sure somebody outside of our little group would know.
Once more I glanced back, and I saw Ariel do something I didn't know could be done.
They killed another angel.
A blade to the gut, felt like a stab to my pounding heart. That was one of our own. They murdered one of our own. No blood was bled, but light filled the forest.
Manaphel glanced back too. Her face twisted like tangled yarn. Horrified was the only way to describe her reaction. I was horrified as well.
"Come on, Oridon! Let's go!"
She grabbed the sleeve of my jacket and pulled me. As fast as we could, we ran through the woods. Briars tore at our ankles and clothes, but we didn't care, at least not then. We didn't bleed anyways. Anthony was still bleeding. He wasn't talking.
"Hold on," I begged, "We'll be there soon."
He nodded and loosened his grip on my shirt. Upon glancing down I could see that his eyes were closed. Was he dying? It wasn't his time yet. No, he was to die three Sundays later of a heart issue, not of a bullet wound.
Manaphel tugged on my sleeve again, pulling me in a different direction. We emerged in front of her house.
"Go, go on. Evanora will know what to do for him. I'm going to wait for Ariel."
I felt my lungs start to burn. My human form was retaliating against the years of pastries and tobacco. Still, I wasn't the one who needed help. Anthony was doing worse by the second. He needed help quick. I drew in a quick breath before running till I reached the house. There was no need for knocking this time. Evanora was waiting on the porch.
"Was he shot?" she asked as she opened the door. She kept trying to glance at him. Why a human wanted to stare at such a sight baffled me. Still, she looked anyways.
A while linen sheet was placed over the couch. I laid him down on it. Blood stained the sheet; blood that seemed to flow like rivers across every piece fabric around. I ran my hand across his forehead. "Anthony, Anthony, I'm so sorry, Anthony," I whispered, "I'm sorry."
Apples, the greatest sin known as temptation. His green eyes opened again. Blood, the ocean of life, was still spilling from him. His skin was a pale shade of yellow. For Heaven's sake, I hated apples.
Evanora brought a wet rag, a couple towels, and a pair of scissors over. She cut the uniform from his body. The pool of blood looked worse underneath. She handed me a towel to wipe the pools up with. I felt like a criminal, not a hero who was meant to hold the blood soaked towel.
I wanted to close my eyes, but I was meant to see what I had caused. This was my punishment for my wrongdoings. This was the end of my suffering. This was the end of my life in my coffin.
Evanora wiped his shoulder off with the wet cloth. I heard him hiss at her, "Fuck, that stings."
To which she responded, "I know, I know. Just a little something that cleans it. Here, do you want some whisky to down while I pull the bullets out?"
He glanced at me. "Can I?"
I glanced at the brown bottle in the kitchen, then back at him. Whisky. Anthony never had whisky before. After all the pain, maybe he was due for a bit of alcohol.
"I'll get it," I responded. I then went to the kitchen and grabbed it. I pulled the cork out of the bottle. The smell hit me the moment it was free to escape. It smelled like what I believed Hell to smell like. Even though it was that awful, I still brought it to him. I held it to his lips even. He drank it like a baby nursing from a mother's breast.
He looked almost pathetic like that. I felt so sorry for him. Yet, I couldn't hold it against him. All my fault, it was all my fault, and my fault alone.
I pulled the bottle away from him. "That's enough."
Evanora held up the scissors. "He'll need more."
"For what?"
"I'm about to dig a bullet out of him. If he's drunk, then maybe he'll have the pleasure of forgetting this lovely experience," she hummed before shoving the scissor blades in the hole. Anthony tried to kick her away, but he had no strength and the alcohol was beginning to soothe his muscles. She ignored his screaming.
More blood gushed out of the wound. I turned away from the horrors of his life spilling from the wound. My stomach churned from the mere glimpse I saw. I fell to my knees and started to gag.
Evanora sighed without stopping her work, "I swear if you puke I'm going to lose my shit. I can only handle one of you idiots at a time."
I grabbed the bottle of whisky and put it to my lips. Twice I sipped the bottled fire. Within an instant I felt the effects. My stomach stopped churning and everything seemed fine. No longer was Anthony losing his life in front of my eyes, he was just a man having a bullet pulled from his shoulder. Evanora had it too. She was easing it out with a great deal of caution.
I took another sip of whisky. That stuff was just too good.
"You know that stuff is for Anthony, right?"
I glanced at Anthony. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were shut tight. Beads of sweat covered his pale yellow face. He did need this stuff.
"Want more, Anthony?"
He shook his head.
"Why not?"
He grunted through gritted teeth, "I deserve this. I'll be fine, angel."
Evanora turned her attention to his abdomen. She dabbed the wound with the wet cloth a few times. Anthony hissed at her again. She glanced up at him. "Shush. You're the one who claims to deserve this. I could leave this in you and you'll get lead poisoning. And I'll let it get infected. How's that sound?"
He snapped back, "I'm fucking dying anyways! What's the point in fixing me?"
I held the bottle to my chest. "So you can suffer less as you pass."
He opened his eyes and shouted, "That's bullshit! You know it is! I've been suffering my whole goddamn life and now you care? What an angel you must be!"
Evanora pushed the scissor blades into the hole. "Yeah, yeah, he's an angel. Shut up now and stay still."
He yelped as the blades entered the wound. He jerked a little too.
"I said stay still. Do you want me to cut your liver out while I'm at it?"
He groaned, "No, I'd rather not have my liver removed. Just find the fucking bullet."
I sipped the whisky before mumbling, "I wish I could do something."
Anthony looked at me. "You wish you could do something now? You abandoned me in that god-awful place. Now you want to help? Is it because now you can't toss me to the side? Is it because you can't run now? You're stuck with me, and I don't give a fuck if you're about to say you love me, you bastard angel. All I do is bring you down. Isn't that right? Isn't it, Oridon?"
I looked down at the bottle. "I don't want to fight you. You're my human. Of course I love you. I love you like any good angel should."
His lip drew back in between his teeth. He held his eyes shut again. Evanora was pulling on the bullet. With a few steady handed tugs it was out. Blood was squirting from the wound like a fountain squirted water. She held a towel over it.
"Oridon, hold this. I need to get some more stuff."
I nodded and put the whisky down. I then moved to hold the towel. Evanora momentarily stepped away to the kitchen. A brief moment like that was enough for Anthony to say, "I'm sick of you, Oridon. I wish I could just fucking die already."
I looked down at the towel. A red circle was forming in the middle. That couldn't be anything good. Both of us knew it.
"What are you? Sorry?"
I put my forehead over the spot. "Yes, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did that. Is it enough to tell you I fucked up?"
"You wouldn't tell me that if you weren't drunk."
I sighed, "And you wouldn't yell at me if you weren't drunk."
"At least I wasn't downing it like you. I had about a shots worth. You probably had about four. What have you been doing while I was in jail? Did you become a partier? Has your tolerance to it built up?"
"No, I stayed at home. All your shit is still at home by the way."
"Why?"
"I couldn't let you go entirely, Anthony. I know you won't believe me if I say you still matter to me."
He paused for a moment. Some kind of different thought lied behind his head.
"You know I wanted you. I really, really wanted you. You didn't want me back."
I glanced up at him. Tears were running down his cheeks. It was so obvious he was hurting so bad inside. I wanted to do something to make him feel better, but I knew anything I could do would make him feel worse. I'd just have to let him die in pain.
"You know the rules. Maybe Heaven still waits for you."
He shook his head. "Not a man like me, Oridon, you stupid angel. I'm a lost cause. Can't you see it?"
"Ollie. That's what you used to call me, right? Isn't that right?"
He leaned his head back on the armrest of the couch. "You're an angel. A human name on you would be like wearing someone else's clothes."
"Well if I'm just a stupid angel, then someone else's clothes on me would fit perfectly."
He closed his eyes again. That time his eyes didn't squinch together. They just laid settle, unmoving and calm. Behind those eyes laid a flood of rage.
"I'm going to fucking die soon, and this is what I'm doing. I'm arguing with a fucking angel. I'm bleeding out on a demon's couch. A witch just pulled two bullets out of me with a pair of scissors. And I'm drunk, but all of it is real. What am I supposed to do? If you're so good and knowing, tell me what to do."
I pursed my lips. What was I supposed to say? Just lay there and die. That's it, end of your life, go to Hell. See you when the world ends. That would be the cherry on top of his disappointment in me. All I could manage to respond with was, "I'm sorry."
He sighed, "I'm sorry too."
We didn't say anything else after that. Evanora returned soon enough after with strips of cut up cloth. She layered it on top of his wounds, then wrapped longer pieces around his torso and shoulder to hold the layers in place. "There, that'll do for now. Get some rest."
He sighed, "I'm dying. What's the point of resting now?"
Evanora crossed her arms. "Because I'm not going to deal with your tired crankiness. Is it fair for me to ask? Or do I have to put another bullet in you to make my point clear?"
He said, "You make it clear enough. Get the damned angel away from me and maybe I'll go to sleep."
She pulled me by my sleeve. I grabbed the whisky before being escorted away. On the way out Evanora said, "He's not damned, not yet at least. You are, however."
Then she opened the door for me. I stepped outside and said, "They're going to come looking at my apartment. Also the police probably think I'm dead."
"Why would they think you're dead?"
"I was shot too. The bullet went straight through my chest."
She squinted her eyes. "Where?"
I turned around to show her my jacket and said, "Wherever the hole is."
"Huh. And did it leave your body?"
I nodded and said, "Went in and out."
At that moment Jasper came running up the stairs. He handed me the bullet.
"Angel here got shot!"
I looked at the bullet closer. It was bigger than I imagined it to be. As I examined it I muttered, "I was just telling Evanora about that."
Evanora said, "Good thing you were there. Did some divine plan have that situation wrote?"
"No, Jasper told me everything."
She looked up at him. "I'd give you a bath if you were in feline from, you naughty cat. It was supposed to be a surprise."
His eyes went wide as he begged, "Please don't. It ended up being a good thing."
"Fine, fine. Find somewhere for Oridon to stay," Evanora sighed.
Jasper paused for a second. "Well I'm pretty sure Ariel's off giving God a blowjob. Oridon can just stay in their room."
He was very much a hellish creature. That quote was perhaps the most hellish thing I had ever heard. In response I took another sip of whisky.
"Do I want to sleep in that bed?"
"Of course you do," Jasper said, "It's a great bed. You're not a true member of the family till you've slept in their bed. Come on."