Author’s notes: I’d like to make it very clear that the following story does not reflect my personal beliefs in any way, shape, or form. Nor does it reflect anyone else’s for that matter-that I know of, anyway. This is all made up by me. So, please don’t strike up a debate with me about morality and religion and God. It’s really not my thing.

So… thanks. And enjoy Reluctant Angels.

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Reluctant Angels

Prologue

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Rain pelted against the windows of the small Thai café like liquid bullets, creating a rhythmic melody in their assault. The city beyond the glass was soaked with the downpour, streets and sidewalks alike slick with moisture and baring few signs of human life.

A man pressed through the entrance of the restaurant, entering the rainy chaos and allowing the door to close behind him. The girl behind him caught the door, however, before allowing it to hit her in the face. She silently thought of excuses for his unkind gesture, reaching into the depths and corners of her mind for something to explain it.

Once outside, but still safe from the onslaught of rain beyond the awning, the two faced each other. The man stared down at her with disinterest and boredom glowing in his hollow eyes, though she beamed up at him with a smile.

The young woman whispered her gratitude for the night, gazing up at him with bright eyes and a sweet smile. Her hands lay clasped in front of her, and she rolled onto her toes in preparation. Innocent gaze hooded, she tilted her chin upward expectantly.

When nothing came, she opened her eyes and found herself watching the retreating back of the young man. He cast a backwards glance over his shoulder, aiming a subtle smirk in her direction. The girl only blinked, her cheeks flushed lightly as she watched him go, leaving without so much as a goodnight kiss. Once again, her mind flooded with explanations, excuses for his distant demeanor and cold behavior.

Perhaps he was distracted. Or tired. Yeah, that’s it… he was only tired.

But, was his exhaustion to blame when he hadn’t called a cab for her? Was it only his being distracted that had caused him to leave her alone in the depths of the city without any means of transportation?

She swiftly brushed away those thoughts, sighing gently as she directed her gaze to the ground with a toss of her hair. Her legs had acquired a fine layer of goose pimples, and she couldn’t help but shiver slightly from the chill of the rain. She hadn’t really wanted to wear the short, skimpy dress that she had, but he had always liked it. And she would do anything for him.

Expelling another feathery sigh, the girl turned on the ball of her foot, ready to go back inside of the restaurant to call a cab. Her high-heeled shoes clicked against the pavement as she strode to the door, providing little traction. Yet again, she didn’t care for her choice of footwear, but for him…

Something stopped her in mid-step, something sounding from the alley beside the restaurant. A voice? Was somebody calling out to her? The girl turned in the direction of the sound, light eyes searching for a face. She couldn’t see anything, but she was sure someone had called out to her…

Eyes wide with curiosity and skepticism, the young woman walked cautiously towards the sound of the voice, head tilted slightly to the side. She called out a quiet greeting, asking if someone was there. And when no reply came, she stepped closer to the alleyway.

Standing at the mouth of the narrow crevice, she called out again. Who had beckoned to her? Who’s voice was it that had urged her to come here…?

As soon as the question had entered her mind… so had the answer. Strong, gruff arms wrapped themselves around her tiny waist, pulling her into the dark alleyway as a small cry of surprise flew from her lips. She felt a hand promptly cover her mouth, disallowing her to release anymore cries or screams of protest.

The attacker pushed her to the wall, slamming her head against the brick surface with a sickening smack. The world turned black before her very eyes for just a split second before returning to a whirl of color, and shadows, and throbbing pain. A muffled groan of agony rose in her throat as she was pressed against the wall, held stationary by the one who assaulted her.

But, she fought. She wriggled and kicked and released muffled screams in an attempt to free herself from the stranger‘s hold. And, throwing her foot back, she jammed the heel of her shoe into his shin, instantly achieving a sharp howl of pain from her attacker.

He fumbled, losing his grip on her for just a short moment. But that was all she needed. It was all she needed to push his arms away and scramble from the alleyway, going as fast as her high-heeled shoes would take her.

She fled without grace and without accuracy, tripping over her shoes and fumbling in the short dress that limited her movements. She knew that she shouldn’t have worn the clothing and shoes that she had, but for him…

A small squeak of surprise escaped her lips as she felt herself falling to the ground. Whether from the shoes that stifled her movements or from the attacker who was now upon her, she didn’t know. All she did know was that she was on the ground, and her body was surging with pain.

The stranger who had grabbed her was upon her now, crawling up her body as she wriggled and fought to release herself. The base of her skull was pulsing, and she struggled to hold onto consciousness and the living world, though she knew that staying awake was the least of her worries.

The attacker was looming over her now, dark eyes and a cruel smile blocking out the lights of the city.

And, was it just her or… had everything stopped? Had the rain ended? Had the cars and people passing by suddenly disappeared, leaving her alone and without hope?

A small, pathetic whimper flew from her lips, and she felt tears spring to her eyes. The crystal orbs swam with terror and distress, silently begging for someone to save her as she wriggled and writhed to remove herself from her attacker’s hold. Was it fruitless? Would nobody come to her rescue…?

The attacker whispered something, though his words were lost on her. She couldn’t hear anything; the choking sobs that racked her body and the tears that streamed down her face had overcome all of her senses, leaving her cold, and numb, and afraid.

But, it didn’t matter what he said. Nothing mattered anymore. Because just as it had all began, it was ending.

She felt the cool steel against her neck; she felt it run along her throat and penetrate her flesh, exposing the crimson contents for the world to see. A sharp, reflexive gasp flew from her lips, accompanied by the coppery taste of blood on her tongue.

And everything was spiraling. Everything was whirling into one massive blob of nothingness. The colors and light and the sounds of the distant cars passing by had mixed in with the darkness of the alley, spinning before the girl’s very eyes as her chest heaved with the effort to breathe.

The attacker had disappeared by then, leaving her in a pool of her own scarlet blood as she lay gasping and panting, struggling to hold onto life. She was left alone to die, heart pounding as it labored to sustain her, mind racing as it fought to keep her conscious.

She released her final breath in that retched place. Surrounded by filth, and blood, and misery, she let go of the last remnants of her broken existence with a labored sigh. And, it wasn’t long before everything faded away before her very eyes. Just as her last gasp for air had been released, everything turned to black, and she felt herself falling into the darkness.

But, then she felt nothing. She was no longer cold, or scared, or in pain. She was no longer despaired or anxious. She only felt herself being wrapped up in a blissful oblivion, and it wasn’t long before the darkness turned to light.

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Lesson One: Part One

“Some Angels are so in denial in their deaths and have such strong attachments to their lives that they will refuse to leave the worldly realm and remain on earth, invisible and unknown to the humans that surround them.”

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Silence had settled into the wide room, spreading throughout every inch and reaching to every corner. Tension and unease hung in the air like a thick cloud, clinging to the dozens that inhabited the space as they waited impatiently for salvation to come. All eyes were on the clock.

As if on cue, a loud digital bell rang off, booming from the speaker just above the door.

A man standing at the front of the room shot a skeptical glance at the clock, bringing a hand up to stroke his bushy beard of silver and red. He returned his focus to the dozens of young adults before him with a sigh and a shrug of his shoulders. “That‘s all for today’s lesson, folks. Have a nice weekend.” Turning his back on the students, he began to busy himself with writing on a plain whiteboard.

There was a shuffling of papers and a heaving of backpacks as the near hundred students inhabiting the lecture hall began to disappear. Murmured voices blended with the chorus of paper ruffling and feet shuffling as they went, hurrying excitedly in anticipation for the weekend ahead. Two days without school, and for most without work; was there a more wondrous thing?

“Oh, excuse me!” The professor at the front of the room quickly turned, waving his arms in the air to catch the attention of his many students. “Don‘t forget to read the chapter this weekend. We‘re starting a unit on angels.”

Upon hearing this update, nearly every student within the proximity let out an exasperated sigh, rolling their eyes as they slumped their shoulders. Professor McCain, the one and only mythology and theology teacher at the school, had a tendency to give them enough reading to last a lifetime-in one night.

One student among the masses, a boy with blazing red hair and fair skin, released a heavy groan as he passed by his professor. Emerald eyes were on the floor, his pallid face wearing a mask of defeat.

“And I bet you’re wondering why you signed up for this willingly,” Professor McCain teased with a smile. He proceeded to write the assignment on the whiteboard at the front of the room.

“Actually I was wondering if I’ll ever have a life and this class at the same time,” the redhead replied with a small smirk, pulling a tan messenger higher onto his shoulder. “The entire chapter, Professor? How long is it?”

“Just long enough,” the teacher replied, “Just be glad I’m not making the lot of you write a paper.”

“No, you’ll probably do that later,” the student muttered. The grin on the professor’s was proof enough that he had heard the snide remark. “Just tell me the chapter won’t take an eternity to read.”

Professor McCain paused in his writing, eyes rolling skyward as he stroked his bushy beard once more. “I can’t make any promises.” At this, the pupil released yet another very audible groan. The teacher, however, smiled. “Have a nice weekend, Mr. McGowan.”

“See you on Monday, sir.” A feathery sigh exited through the redhead’s lips, and he reluctantly turned away from his teacher. He strode to the door slowly, shoulders slumped in defeat and disappointment as he muttered an annoyed, “James. My name is James.”

Actually, it was a wonder that the teacher had even known his last name. In a class of nearly three hundred students, James wasn’t one to stand out and above the masses. He did his homework, and received decent grades on his papers and exams. He didn’t join the frat boys in their shenanigans and pranks on the school, or annoy the teachers with stupid or boisterous comments. All in all, he was a good student. And he even managed to smile the majority of the time.

With another light sigh and roll of his glittering eyes, the boy made his way through the school he attended. The halls were crowded, and the heaters had been failing to work for the past winter months, but he wasn’t complaining. After all, college was college. He considered himself lucky just to attend.

As James found a way out of the chaos that the flocks of students had created, he made his own path out through the nearest exit. Pushing through the last few bodies that stood in his way, he walked out onto the school grounds with a breath of relief, and a smile worked its way onto his lips.

It was the weekend. Even with the workload that a few of his teachers had chosen to bestow upon him, it was still the weekend. There would still be time to relax and kick back- time to sleep and eat, and maybe take a walk in the snow. Even as a twenty-one-year-old in college, he never grew tired of such things.

Shivering slightly as a gust of cool air brushed past, James ducked his head and made a beeline for the northern parking lot. Only a stretch of concrete sidewalk and about a five-minute walk stood between himself and the warmth and safety of his car- you couldn’t say he was overly obsessive about his little Audi, but he definitely did appreciate it in the cold winter months.

Taking a sweeping glance around (a check for cars and idiotic freshmen), the redhead pulled out a knitted scarf from his back and promptly wrapped it around his neck. The green-striped garment flowed lightly in the wind, but did well to protect his neck from the chill. The rest of his body would need to wait until he reached his car.

As if on cue by his thoughts, James spotted the silver Audi just a few meters ahead. He pulled out a set of keys and key-chains (one of which read ‘Heck is for people who don’t believe in Gosh’) and unlocked his car. Sliding into the chilly automobile, he promptly turned the ignition and set a course for home.

The snow fell harder then. Small flakes of white had turned into a great flurry, turning everything around the car into white oblivion. But James didn’t worry. He was always comfortable when he drove. Besides, after spending his entire life in New York, he had grown used to this winter weather.

Humming lightly and turning on the heat for his car (it had been previously set to the air conditioning-why, he did not know), James’s gaze lifted to the sky. The clouds and onslaught of snow blotted out the heavens, making it impossible to see the Manhattan skyline. The city would have been rather distant regardless, but still slightly visible.

Turning his eyes back to the road, James continued in the trek home. With the heat and radio on (though his favorite station didn’t get the best reception in the current weather), the half-hour journey seemed quick and painless, though he was indeed ready to go inside and kick back for the weekend.

Removing himself from the car and locking the door behind him, the redhead made his way to the front door of his little house, leaving a trail of footsteps in his wake. A path of smaller footsteps had been made before him, but he disregarded them; the neighboring children often wanted him to join in their snowy adventures. Though, he never really was in the mood to be attacked with snowballs by a group of preteen boys.

Kicking off his shoes as he pressed inside, James released a sigh of contentment and closed the door behind him. The atmosphere of his house was warm and welcoming as he flicked on the lights, and he couldn’t help but smile at the cozy place he called home.

Stepping out of the entrance and into the dimly lit living room as he dropped his messenger bag, the boy took a sweeping glance of the area and let out a high-pitched whistle. “Riley? Here, boy.”

Just on cue, a golden retriever with a sunny pelt trotted around the corner, dark eyes glistening and lips curled back as he panted his welcome. The canine stepped forward to his master, tail wagging excitedly as his nose sought out James’s pale hand. The redhead smiled, petting his dog with the free hand as the animal licked his other.

“Good to see you too, buddy,” he said softly, walking past and into the kitchen. The dog followed suit. “Did we get any messages today…?”

James pressed a button on the nearby answering machine. Almost instantly, a mechanical but feminine voice filled the room with, “You have one unheard message” at which Riley growled. “Message one.”

The voice then changed to a soft, feminine voice, a familiar one that the dog didn’t bark at. “Hey, James, it’s Lynn. Me and the girls just wanted to check up on you. Maybe see if you could catch lunch with us some time. Mom has some meatloaf left over from the other night if you want it. Unless you’re too busy. We could always give it to Catherine’s new boyfriend-I swear, that boy eats everything.” There was a soft giggle and protest of ‘he does not!’ in the background. “But, yeah… better get going. Take care, kiddo.” A loud beep signaled the end of the message, and James clicked off the machine.

The redhead leaned back against the kitchen counter, smiling softly to himself as his hands sunk into the pockets of his khakis. It was very much like his sisters to call and check up on him. They did it six out of the seven days in the week-always worrying about their little brother. But when you grow up with three older sisters, what do you expect? That sense of protective sibling care never does fade away.

Smile in place, James sighed lightly and shifted his glance to a nearby window. The outside world had been plunged into a world of white. The snow clung to the trees and cloaked the roadways and streets, sealing the boy’s fate for the night.

“Well…” he said softly, a hand running through his hair and ruffling his bangs, “Guess I’m in for now.”

The next bit of James’s glorious Friday night was spent making dinner. Not having been the cook of the family (his sister Elise was always much better), his meal consisted of instant ramen and a glass of sprite. This, among macaroni and cheese and tuna fish sandwiches, seemed to make up the majority of his meals as a college student. It seemed almost too bad that he hadn’t enlisted in any cooking classes for the term.

As James ate his dinner (fit for a king), he made his way to the living room and his set of textbooks. He found his place in the middle of the floor, sitting beside his beloved retriever as he consumed the noodles and looked over his latest Chemistry assignment. With a snort and a disdainful shake of his head, the boy pushed the papers away. There was no way on Earth that he would resort to doing Chemistry homework on a Friday night. No way, no how.

Instead, the redhead moved onto his Mythology text. The book was thick and including over a thousand pages. One-thousand, two-hundred and ninety-seven to be exact; this discovery had been made on the first day of the term, and had led to a series of disheartening thoughts when the professor had announced they would be covering ninety-five percent of the material.

Flipping to the page that Professor McCain had instructed, James turned disinterested eyes on the beginning of the assignment. “Unit seven, chapter one,” he read in a dull tone, “Reluctant Angels.”

With a heavy sigh and an exasperated roll of his green eyes, the redhead went on to read the assigned pages, reading aloud every time he came upon something undeniably preposterous or just downright cheesy. “Some angels are so in denial in their deaths and have such strong attachments to their lives that I can’t believe I signed up for this class.”

In all honesty, James had never before taken an interest in mythology or theology of any kind. The only real reason he had signed up for the class had been to seek out something of lesser boredom- a class that might be able to keep him from falling asleep throughout the day. Though Professor McCain and the lessons he provided did succeed to keep him conscious, he did find some of the material rather farfetched. I mean, reluctant angels? Angels that refused to go to heaven? Who thought up this stuff? …And how much did they get paid? As a creative writing major, James could find the job fairly suiting.

Shaking his head with a light smirk, James returned to his reading. By then, the world outside had grown dark and blistering, keeping the falling snow hidden in a black abyss. A crackling fire had also grown in James’s gas fireplace, providing a cozy sort of feeling to the room in which he studied. The redhead reached out a hand and stroked the silky fur of his canine friend, who had fallen fast asleep in front of the furnace.

The dog released a sleepy grunt and a kick of his leg as his head twitched, achieving a small smile from his master. “My thoughts exactly,” James murmured lightly with a yawn. His eyes shifted to the illuminated numbers on the clock in the kitchen, which read 9:15. He frowned. Why on Earth was he so tired at such an early hour? Surely his absurd and yet somehow dull reading material was to blame.

Expelling a sigh, James removed the book from his lap and laid back onto the carpet. His eyes roamed over the white ceiling above, for a lack of better places to put their focus. James had never been one to study with music or television on in the background-he normally opted for quiet when he worked. And thus the house was almost dead silent, sans the ticking of the clock and Riley’s sleepy breathing.

But, then there was another sound. At first it was almost unnoticeable and unrecognizable, but then it came again. James frowned as he stared up at the ceiling, his brow furrowed in thought. Was somebody… crying?

Pulling himself into a sitting position, James turned his head in the direction of the soft sniffles and whimpers, which seemed to be coming from his bedroom down the hall. By that time the sound had grown loud enough to awaken his dog, who now stared off in the same direction. The canine released a low growl, lips curling back to reveal his teeth.

“Shh, shh,” James hushed the animal as the crying persisted, and he slowly rose to his feet. His eyes remained locked in the direction of the sound as he crept slowly to his room, walking on his toes as if it would help his sense of stealth. He ignored the few pure white feathers that seemed to decorate the hall.

Upon reaching his room, he pressed forward a tentative hand and gently pushed the door open. A strange figure on the ground caught his eyes, which widened in surprise and bemusement as he stepped into the bedroom.

“What…”

At the sound of his voice, the girl that lay crying on the floor turned to face him. Pale blue eyes met with emerald ones in an equally confused glance before she looked around the room. When her eyes came back to him, they widened in wonder, her lips trembling as they parted to form words. And her soft and timid voice came,

“You… you can see me?”

James stared at the girl for a moment longer, taking in the whole of her with disbelieving eyes: her pale sunlight hair and blue eyes, the feathers that seemed to sprout from her back…

And then part of his lesson of that day seemed to ring in his mind. Oh, how did it go again…?

“Some Angels are so in denial in their deaths and have such strong attachments to their lives…” He spoke the words silently as he stared at the girl, “That they will refuse to leave the worldly realm and remain on earth, invisible and unknown to the humans that surround them.”