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Tassels
Rated R
Disclaimer....Do I look like Joss?
Written
for the Blood Roses Forum
Tassels.
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.
*Please*
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.
“Mercy, Dad?”
From his safe corner in the dark, the Angel answers, “No son. Not
where he is going.”
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