Disclaimer....Do I look like Joss?
Written for the Blood Roses Forum
You pry open eyelids that are puffy and swollen and blink yourself into consciousness. Your head is turned and when your vision clears you discover the only window in the room. Sunlight batters against the blind that covers the window. It is one of those old fashioned blinds, the ones that your grandmother had, old canvas that ended in a peak, fancy crochet loops add to the old lady look. A tassel hangs suspended at the apex of the triangle and a ring adorns the crossbar further up. A child would have pulled at the tassel to send the blind rolling up; an adult would have used the ring.
You want to pull that tassel and let in the life saving glow. But you cannot for even if your legs were not shattered, your arms are broken and your fingers don’t work. So you blink at the light and watch the tassel as it glistens. Something red and wet drips from the silk and you know it is your blood.
You thought it would be easy to snatch Angel’s kid, you and your colleagues. Only the kid was strong and fast and the vampire had been watching him and therefore waiting for you. The rumours that he had died in that alley were false; there had never been proof in ashes anyway.
You lay there watching the light and the blood and the tassel. You want to lick your lips but there is only blood filling your mouth where once your tongue had been. You feel it dribble past your lips and down your cheek past the broken jaw and onto the floor. Your secrets are gone and soon, please soon, so will your life. Your body is a mass of pain that manages to blur into a dull hum, you’re in shock that it came to this. Your vision doubles so that there are two tassels where one had been.
You startle as cool fingers smooth your brow and gently rearrange your hair. You did not know he was there.
The Angel of Death whispers, “Is it time to die?”
You look at the tassels and the light beyond and plead with tears that spill from your eyes.
Instead of the welcoming light you are greeted with the dark.
A slender human hand pulls at the tassel sending the blind rattling heaven wards. It bobs and spins casting a small shadow on the lifeless face below.
From his safe corner in the dark, the Angel answers, “No son. Not where he is going.”
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