The Silence Where Dead Angel’s Lie

Strangely inspired by the Dissection song “Where Dead Angels Lie”; no I am not insane; I just have the weirdest ideas.

This is my first attempt, so please don't hate me, this is mostly the result of way too many late nights.

This piece is my first attempt, so please don't hate me for it. This is more an experiment that anything else, and probably the result of far too many sleepless nights.

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This was no place Rebecca had ever been before. An open plain, but there was no such thing in Manhattan. She couldn’t even remember how she had gotten there. Before a few moments ago, her memory was completely blank.

Everything was covered by a gentle, undisturbed blanket of snow. Even though Rebecca somehow knew it was bitterly cold, she felt nothing. Just the same temperature she had felt back home.

But how had she com from home to this wide, untouched prairie? There was nothing for miles, and no footsteps in the snow, save her own. Turning, she could see she must have been walking here for some time, as tracks were extended across the otherwise pristine snow as far as she could see. A few lazy flakes were drifting slowly form the sky, but it was not snowing heavily.

Rebecca wondered if she was dreaming. She wondered if she had been mugged and knocked unconscious. That stuff happened all the time in New York. She wondered if maybe she’d even been murdered and this was Heaven, or perhaps even Hell.

Then, something caught her eye. She was unsure, from this distance, what it was, exactly. But something stood out, ever so slightly, against the white snow and somber, ashen clouds. She struggled through the snow, until she came upon what had caught her eye. She gave a small scream, tried to back up too quickly, and fell. She was now sitting in the snow (though somehow not getting wet), staring at the body before her.

Laying, mostly covered in the snow, was the body of a beautiful young woman. Her face was twisted into an expression of shock and pain. One hand was still reaching upward. It was this extended limb that had attracted Rebecca’s attention. The young woman looked as though she had been caught completely off guard, and had been reaching out for help when she died. However, Rebecca couldn’t see any wounds of any kind on her body, and there was no blood on the snow around her.

Still frightened, Rebecca’s first though was to yell for the police. But before she had enough control of her voice to scream, she noticed something. Brushing away some of the snow, she found herself staring, mystified, at a frozen wing. Barely daring to believe her eyes, Rebecca leaned over the frozen form, brushing away more snow. On the other side, another wing. Again, partly extended away from the figure, and frozen solid.

“Angel,” Rebecca whispered, her voice sharp in the frosty silence, “Dead angel.”

Looking closely, she could see that the angel’s pale skin held the faintest touch of color, even through the covering of frost. Careful not to actually touch skin, she brushed away snow from the angel’s face. She had been beautiful. More beautiful than any woman Rebecca had ever seen. And, living in Manhattan, Rebecca had seen lovely women come and go.

Snow was frozen to the angel’s loose curls, which had once been reddish-blonde, and was covering her brows, and clung to her long lashes. Her eyes were open, but fixed and emotionless in that empty stare of death. Though her face was a mask suggesting she had not seen death coming. Her lips were parted slightly, as if on the verge of crying out. Her brow raised in shock, yet slightly furrowed as if pain had come upon her suddenly. Had she been reaching out to God when she died, begging Him to help her?

All in all, this poor angel was the saddest, sweetest thing Rebecca had ever seen. She was surprised to suddenly find that she was crying. Tears rolled down her cheeks, then dropped onto one of the angel’s wings.

Having seen too many movies and read too many fairy tales as a child, Rebecca half expected some miracle to occur, with the angel suddenly blinking, then slowly coming back to life before Rebecca’s eyes. But nothing happened. The dead angel lay, frozen, without moving. Nothing miraculous was going to come of crying.

Rebecca wiped tears off her cheeks, not taking her eyes off the angel’s face. She was suddenly overcome with an urge to uncover the rest of the angel. All that emerged from beneath the snow was the angel’s face and shoulders, and the one raised arm. Also, now, her wings, thanks to Rebecca’s digging them out.

Carefully, as she was still frightened to actually touch the angel in any manner, Rebecca began to brush away the snow that was covering the angel’s body. Slowly, the figure emerged. She was wrapped in a beautiful pale blue garment, and was barefoot. She was of average high, and not super-model skinny, but still slender. Her other hand was clasped over her heart, like people who had had a heart attack. Her slender fingers were clenched into the thin fabric of her robe. ‘Could angels have heart attacks?’ Rebecca wondered.

“You poor thing,” Rebecca cooed to the frozen body, she reached out to brush a strand of hair from the angel’s eyes, when someone demanded Let that angel alone!::

The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, yet from nowhere at all. “W…what?” Rebecca stammered.

:: Do not touch that angel!::

“I won’t hurt her,” Rebecca faltered desperately. She got the feeling the unseen voice was laughing at her, and felt her cheeks growing hot.

As the voice did not actually reply to her remark, Rebecca reached out again, this time, to take the angel’s outstretched hand in hers. For some reason, she felt she should try to comfort the dead angel. ::Stop!:: the voice commanded again, ::Let that angel alone!::

“What killed her?” Rebecca demanded.

::I did not say she had died::

“Th…then what…” Rebecca couldn’t find the words to express the question, and even if she could, her tightening throat wouldn’t have ever allowed them through.

::Her spirit is very much alive within that body, but the body itself has died. That is her damnation- ,forever separated from the love of her Father::

“D…damnation? For what?”

::She turned her back on her Lord::

Rebecca’s eyebrow arched quizzically. This angel did not look like it to her. She was reaching out to God to save her. “How?”

::She embraced the shadows:: the voice sounded like it was growing impatient.

Rebecca voiced the other question that was thundering in her mind, “Where are we?”

::This is where all heavenly beings go when their bodies die, but their spirits live on. Many are forgiven. She will never be.::

‘Looks like they’re all forgiven’, Rebecca mused silently; ‘she’s the only one here’. “How do I go home?”

::Rise and I will take you.::

Rebecca gave the angel a last forlorn look, and could swear she could almost hear the angel begging her don’t leave me! Something deep within herself told Rebecca to remain where she was; pleading with her not to obey the voice.

“What are you?” Rebecca demanded the invisible speaker.

::I am the guardian of this place::

“You’re a pretty lousy guardian, I somehow just stumbled in here.”

::I do not know how you came to be here:: the voice replied impatiently, ::but you must now leave::

“When you said she embraced the shadows, what does that mean?”

::Angels are creatures of the light, but she, she loved the darkness. She embraced the shadows and turned her back on her Lord::

Something in the responses didn’t sound right to Rebecca. A little too prepared, too rehearsed. “Are you an angel?”

::No, I grow weary of this talk, now you must leave this place::

Rebecca gazed at the ‘dead’ angel, and felt a tremendous pity for her. “Can she hear us?”

::I believe so::

“Can she feel? Physically I mean.”

::I do not know, I would not think so:: but now, the voice sounded nervous.

Rebecca did not move, she remained in the snow, gazing at the angel laying stiff and cold before her. She felt that whatever the ‘guardian’ was, it was not to be trusted. “If she turned her back on God, why was she reaching upward when she ‘died’?”

::She was begging to be forgiven::

It made sense that the angel would plead for forgiveness. But still, Rebecca felt that low murmur in her heart; something that told her not to listen. Rebecca was suddenly possessed by an undeniable desire to touch the angel’s frozen skin. To extend some comfort to the spirit that was supposedly still residing in the dead body. Rebecca had not been raised to be particular religious. She knew about God, and a little about angels, she had always been under the impression that angels lived forever. If there were other angels that were condemned to the same fate, where were they? There was only this one angel. Nothing else marred the expanse of untouched snow. And why have a wide open plain, covered in snow, just to put ‘dead’ angels? The more Rebecca thought about it, the less and less sense it made. And the more she was urged to trust in her instinct to defy the disembodied ‘guardian’.

With sudden movement, Rebecca seized the angel’s outstretched hand with hers, and pressed her other hand over the hand the angel had pressed to her chest. ::NO!:: the voice screamed.

So cold, the angel’s skin was so cold, as if there were ice in her veins instead of blood. Rebecca leaned over and kissed the angel tenderly on the forehead. Feeling the frozen skin against her lips caused her to shiver, but she refused to release the angel. Rebecca sensed that the angel knew she was being touched, and could hear her speak as she whispered softly, “I’m so sorry, I wish I could help you.” She felt an affectionate bond between herself and the angel.

::No,:: the voice was still whispering, :: no, no , no::

Suddenly, Rebecca noticed that the angel’s skin no longer felt so cold beneath her grip. At first, she thought that the warmth of her hands had thawed the ice from the surface of the angel’s skin. Then, the angel blinked. For a moment, Rebecca thought she was seeing things. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, the angel’s fingers closed around her hand. Gripping it in a silent plead: don’t go, don’t let me go!

“I’m right here,” Rebecca soothed, thought she was startled to say the very least. “I’m not letting go of you.” She watched in apt fascination as the color slowly returned to the angel’s skin and the snow surrounding her began to melt. The angel’s grip on her hand did not relinquish at all, but seemed to grow more desperate. Rebecca squeezed back gently, moving her other hand to caress the angel’s face.

Slowly, the angel came back to life. After what felt like hours, though must have been only a few moments, she stirred slightly, like one newly awakened. Beneath her, her wings began to shift. Her grip on Rebecca’s hand became nothing short of painful.

“Shhh,” Rebecca whispered, “Don’t you worry, I’m right here.”

::Not for long!:: the voice adamantly declared, having been silent for some time. Rebecca felt someone grasp her hair in a firm grip and pull hard. Rebecca cried out in surprise and shock, but managed to maintain her grip on the angel’s hand. Her other hand came back, swiping at her unseen assailant. Meanwhile, the angel’s already panicked grip was tightening even further, tugging hard, trying to pull her back. Rebecca pulled away from the invisible force, and was suddenly released. Unable to right herself in time, she crashed, face-first, into the angel beneath her.

Before Rebecca had time to understand what was occurring quite, the angel had wrapped an arm around her, rendering unable to move. But she could feel her energy, her life force, ebbing from her into the angel. That must have been what happened when she touched her the first time, but able to flow only through her hand, it would have taken too long. Here, chest to chest with the angel, who had now managed to even wrap one wing around Rebecca, the transfer would take much less time. ‘How much does she need?’ Rebecca’s mind screamed, ‘is she going to kill me?’ Just when Rebecca had determined that she was, the angel let go and gently rolled Rebecca off her. Rebecca was so drained that she lacked the strength to stand on her own, and instead opted to just lie on the ground until she recovered somewhat.

However, the angel had managed to get to her feet. Following the angel’s gaze, Rebecca saw that the ‘guardian’ was no longer invisible. He, for he was obviously male, looked like he had once been an angel. His wings were torn and dirty, a scar crossed the bridge of his nose, and his long hair, which was a light brown, had been tangled into hopeless knots. He wore a robe much like the angel’s, but whereas hers was pale blue, his was black.

“Mephistopheles,” the angel snarled. Then, more tearfully, “How could you?”

Mephistopheles shrugged casually “I was commanded by my Lord to capture at least one angel. I figured you were perfect. All I had to do was get you to distance yourself from God, even the slightest bit. So I watched and waited until dusk fell. When you confessed you loved the night, the darkness, rather than the light, you placed just enough distance between you and your Creator for my power to separate you all the way. I froze your heart to ice,” Mephistopheles seemed very proud of himself, “and your body died, but I couldn’t kill off your soul. So I simply froze your body, and dumped you here on this nether plain, where you could not come back to life.”

No sooner were the last words drawn from between his lips, then the fallen angel doubled over in pain, as if he had suffered a powerful blow to the stomach. He looked from the angel to Rebecca, in terror and bewilderment, before, with a cry of pain, he disappeared all together.

“Th…that,” Rebecca stammered as she forced herself to stand, “that was the devil?”

“Hardly,” the angel replied, “Mephistopheles is merely his servant. Satan would not deal with such trivial matters as faithful angels himself.” Then she turned to Rebecca and gave her a gentle and thankful smile, before embracing her warmly, “I must thank you, you saved me.”

“W…what was I supposed to do?” Rebecca asked, her fingers tenderly stroking one of the beautiful wings. Then she asked the question plaguing her, “How did I get here, and how do I go home?”

“I do not know, nor do I know how I will return to my Father, if He will still take me in.”

“What happened wasn’t your fault,” Rebecca soothed.

“Mephistopheles spoke truth,” the angel protested, “I love the darkness, especially just at sunset. The shadows captivate me…entice me…obsess me.”

“I like night too,” Rebecca replied, doing her best to comfort the mournful angel, “The shadows are soothing, and night is when there are stars. There is nothing wrong in loving night, or its shadows.”

The angel smiled ever so slightly, her eyes, which had regained their warm golden brown color, closed gently. She nodded, before dropping to her knees.

“Father,” she pleaded, “Forgive me, and save me, please.” Then she fell silent, head bowed, lost in her prayers.

For a few minutes there was nothing, then a warm glow enveloped them both, there was a white light, and Rebecca was momentarily blinded.

When she regained her vision, there was nothing but white. The angel still stood near her, but her face now bore a rejoicing smile.

“Fare thee well,” she told Rebecca, “And may the Lord Most High bless and keep you always.”

“And…the same to you,” Rebecca stammered, not knowing quite how to reply. The angel turned away, and spread her wings as if to fly, her wings were mostly white, but the very edges were a light, light grey. “Wait,” Rebecca called, “What is your name?”

“Jeanette,” the angel replied, smiling, “Once more, my thanks to you, Rebecca.” Then she lifted upward, her wings beating slightly, and flew out of sight.

“You’re welcome!” Rebecca called after her, again not knowing what else to say. Then a warm, soothing light enveloped her, and she lost consciousness.

Rebecca awoke in a hospital bed. A concerned nurse was standing nearby, talking to Rebecca’s roommate, Tina. “I don’t understand it either, Miss. There’s nothing wrong with her, as far as we can tell. We don’t have an explanation for why she’s not waking up.…”

Just then Tina noticed that Rebecca was indeed awake. She stepped hurriedly around the nurse and embraced Rebecca.

“Oh, Beck, you had me so worried! What happened?”

“Angel,” Rebecca murmured, suddenly exhausted, “Frozen….”

“Frozen angels? What are you talking about, Beck?”

“Jeanette,” Rebecca whispered, tasting the sweetness of the name.

“She’s still not fully conscious,” the nurse explained, “She’s talking dream-nonsense.”

Rebecca closed her eyes, dream-nonsense, it couldn’t have been a dream. There was no way it had all been a dream. She noticed that she was making a firm fist with her left hand, and drew it from beneath the blanket, just as Tina and the nurse were leaving.

There, clenched tightly, desperately, in her fist, was a single, long white feather, the tip of which was a light, light grey.