Be still my heart. I can't believe I'm about to do this. Here. The first chapter of my story. I don't know if it's any good, and it's definitely not up to echo's standards (how I wish!). But should I continue with it or scrap it?

Guardian Angels

It would have been so easy for her to just give up. Just to let everything go and drift down, let her heavy clothes pull her deeper into the dark depths, let herself breathe in the cold liquid, allow for the burning pain in her chest to flare for a moment before going out, so easy to surrender to the cold darkness…but going the easy way was never hers. Not her path, never had been and never would be. So she fought, kicking her tired legs, and kept her breath. So close… She broke out over the surface and gasped for air, kicking her legs out furiously to remain above the water. The current was strong, almost dragging her under again. Then, she was submerged once more. She had to get some of her clothes off. Why the hell did things like this have to happen to her when she was wearing about 3 jumpers?

She kicked off her shoes and struggled with the top woolly grey turtleneck she wore. Finally she managed to get it off and also her socks at the same time. Her lungs were burning by then, and she had to use every ounce of willpower not to take an automatic breath. Her eyes stung from the salt water and she needed oxygen in her lungs, badly. Her head was pounding and her eyes felt so heavy. Everything was so fuzzy. So close to the surface, she had to fight, had to! But…the dark was calling to her. Calling. So familiar, like a caress. She just wanted to feel the comfort of darkness. No. just a little bit more. Just. A. Little. Bit. More. Just….Blackness.

                                                            *

She heard voices. Was this heaven? She felt the almost overwhelming cloud of darkness lift, slowly. The smell was strong, here. Not unpleasant, merely permeating the very air. It was of Shadows and Darkness. Of Light and Radiance. Of herbs and cooking. The mustiness of books and ink. This place was an oddity in itself, and she found herself intrigued by it. If only she could open her eyes…

"She's awake."

"Hello there, Sleeping Beauty. Had a nice nap?"

"Did somebody get the license plate of that truck?" she groaned. Then froze. Nope, not heaven. Still alive. But who in the hell were they?

"Jack Stanton. This is Anita Bradley." Ah yes, the two different tones of voice. Now that she could see them, she saw that one was a man and the other a woman. Both looked to be in their late 20s or early 30s, dressed in…hello, can anyone say The Matrix? Black from head to toe, the guy had on a black leather duster over turtle neck sweater and black trousers. Scuffed leather loafers on his feet. He was good looking in a very Vampiric-like way. Pale with very good dress sense, if a little…black. Hair so dark it gleamed blue under the light, sharp, aristocratic features. Eyes that gleamed a bright blue.

The woman was tall and slim, wearing what looked to be a black leather bodysuit with a black leather duster, black boots on her feet. High heels, of course. Black hair, blue eyes. Pale, pale skin. Both practically screamed 'never seen sun'. Both good looking in a predatory way. But why the hell were they helping her? The woman seemed slightly fidgety, if fidgety was the right word. There was a sense of unease in the way she scanned their surrounding. That was when she noticed where they were.

"Toto, we ain't in Kansas anymore."

                                                                        *

It was just too bizarre. The guy, Jack Stanton, had said that he and Anita were "just passing by" when they noticed a body lying on the ground, sodden through. Though how that could be the case they never figured out. After all, they had found her near some caves, no where near any sources of water. Plus it hadn't rained there, much. Not enough to make her completely and utterly wet. Jack had made a fire in the cave and had handed her a blanket to keep her warm. They, well, he was telling her about them. About them. About their lives. Jack was a nice guy, funny. He would have cracked her up, but she was still wary of them, of this place that was so obviously not her home.

Anita was quiet, preferring to glare at her or look around alertly, as if waiting for some kind of signal. She still had so many questions. Who were they? What were they doing here? What was she doing here? Where exactly was 'here' in the first place? It was all truly strange and she didn't like it one bit. Nope, not one single bit.

"You don't trust us, do you?"

She was startled, to say the least. The fact that she fell off of the box she called her seat was another indication of the sheer value of unsuspection of the question. If there actually was such a word. It gave clear enough indication, anyway. That, coupled with the guilty expression she now wore were evidence enough. Strangely enough, Anita nodded approvingly.

"Good. I would think you a fool if you didn't suspect anything strange."

Okay. She blinked at that. The woman…respected her? For not trusting them? This was new.

"Uh, thanks?"

            Anita let out a sharp, rusty bark of laughter, as if the action had not been used much in a long time. She shook her head.

            "It isn't that surprising a concept to grasp, girl. There are things that we've seen that makes us just a bit respectful of people who were not as naïve as we started out."

        She shivered slightly. There was something in Anita's tone that made her realise that the woman and Jack had not had an easy time of it at first. She wondered what had happened to make them this way. But…what way was this exactly?

        "Not something I'd like to revive, girl."

        Okay, it was kind of wacky/scary the way those two could read her mind. And the way Anita called her girl all the time was majorly ticking her off. What the hell was up her ass?

        "You are still young compared to us, girl. And your actions don't prove otherwise. When you decide to act older, the day that I decide you are ready, you will cease to be girl."

        Well hell if she wasn't the enigmatic one. And what was this? They thought she was sticking? So not right.

        "We seem to have come to a misunderstanding. I'm not staying here. I mean to find my way back. With or without your help. I mean, it would be so much easier with, but I'll do without."

        "Shame," Jack murmured, leaning closer and running a surprisingly cool finger down her cheek. "You know we can't help you."

        She jerked back from his touch. He was cold. Shouldn't he be warmer from his body temperature? That man was so cool. The air was warm and he was wearing those dark clothes with the duster. Wouldn't he be warm? Why the hell was he cold?

        "You can help me when you found me lying there on the ground, but you won't help me otherwise?"

        "Think about it, girl. It'll make sense….eventually." Anita smirked. She wanted to growl. Wait, she did it anyway. Stepped up abruptly and stalked out of the cave. So she missed the looks the two shot each other.

        "Perhaps we moved too quickly for her, Anita."

        "We have to know if she's ready for it, Jack. You know that's true."

        "Yes, but should we have shoved her that ultimatum? Be nice to her, then take it all away?"

        "The niceness was all your doing, Stanton. I provided her with no false illusions."

        "Knew you'd be impossible," he muttered. Then sighed. Looked towards the opening of the cave to where she had disappeared out of. "Should we go after her?"

        "I do suppose we should."

        "Poor girl, I wouldn't like to be in her place at the moment."

        "Poor girl or not, Nova Munroe is who we need. The prophecy says-"

        "Oh, I know what the bloody prophecy says," Jack snapped. He let out an irritated sigh, pushed back unruly locks of blue black hair. Turned to face his partner. "Damn the prophecy. It's ruled our lives for far too long."

        "Don't be foolish, Jack."

        "No, I never can." Jack's mouth twisted bitterly. "You won't let me, will you, Anita."

        "Jack…"

        "Come," he cut in, before she could say anything. "We have to go before she disappears."

        With that, he stood up and left, his duster flowing in the windless night as he swept out of the cave in search of the girl. Anita sighed. The ending had come too harsh. She had wished that things were different. Yet they were not. Maybe he was right. Maybe the prophecy had ruled their lives for far too long. Even so, she wasn't going to be the one to break it. She had a duty to do, and it wasn't her place to do otherwise.

        With that though, she swept out of the cave in search of the girl as well. Of course, not noticing the gleam of something in the shadows of the cave. Two somethings, really. Those somethings turned out to be eyes, as the body of a human man emerged from the darkest recesses of the cave. He was dressed impeccably in black as well, except his hair was a bright blond that just brushed his collar, and his eyes were a bright moss green. His skin was pale, like theirs. His eyes inhumanly bright.

        He stepped over to where the girl had been sitting and looked down as the glimmer of something half buried in the sand caught his eyes. He leaned down and picked it up.

        It was a locket, heart shaped and silver, the clasp done in the shape of wings. He turned it around and read the inscription at the back:

Four Angels round my heart

One to watch and one to pray

And two to bear my soul away.

        The twist of his mouth could not be called a smile as he read the inscription. How terribly ironic. How terribly fitting. He pocketed the locket and walked away, whistling. Whistling the funeral march.

Okay, that's the first chapter. Is this okay or is it a lost cause? Feedback would be mucho appreciated.

Darryl/Aida

~ it would seem like yesterday that you were born, married, gave birth, turning 50 and now dead~ Wise words of a friend of mine.