A/N: I feel weird. Like, bloaty. And very grumpy. But why would any of you guys care?
Okay, so this is my very first FictionPress story. I hope you guys decide to be kind and review, because I don't have anything against flames. Constructive criticism is IN!
And, um, no stealing? This is ALL me. Enjoy!
He ran as fast as he could, hearing the shouts of humans behind him. He gritted his teeth, fighting back the string of curses that were flooding his mind. This predicament could be blamed namely on him, for letting his wings show in front of a human.
Stupid. Stupid him, stupid humans.
He heard the beating hearts of the men that were trying to take him, could feel the thorny ground beneath him tearing at his bare feet, but he couldn't see anything. This made him, though he would never admit it, frightened. Angels should always be able to see, they should always have a guiding light to bring them home—it was that light that he had seen all of his existence.
And now, for some reason, it was gone.
Still, he raced blindly through the underbrush of the forest, making sure his wings were tucked tightly to his back—he didn't need any more idiotic humans on his tail, hoping to be blessed by God, or something. Nevertheless, he could hear the humans getting closer. Why was that? He should be able to outrun a hundred men, fly faster than any bird, and swim faster than any fish. A divine creature does not become tired, yet his breathing was labored. This was insane. Why?
Why? That was the only word that flitted through his mind. It was strange—like everything he knew was filtering out of his head. He started wondering why he was going so fast.
RUN! What was left of his mind screamed to him, but his body wouldn't obey. He was awfully tired, and he didn't understand…
Hands grabbed him, and he was wrapped up in thick, itchy rope. A part of his mind was screaming, trying to get him to fight back because he could take them, but he was oblivious to the voice. He could hear it, but he didn't understand it, just like he couldn't understand the humans that threw him in a cage and placed him in a large room, where more humans looked at him and kneeled at his cage.
Time was very strange to him now. He couldn't see the moon or the sun, but he could see by a single candle, but that candle often flickered out. His life revolved around the little candle stub—he woke when it was lit, to see humans fill in and watch him, speaking their strange language, and when all the humans left and the candle stub flickered out, he would go to sleep.
He started to forget things. What was this place? Who was he? Wordless questions filled his head, and the small voice in the back of his head grew smaller. Instead, he dreamed strange dreams filled with bright white palaces and smiling people, more beautiful than the crude humans. He was confused by these dreams, but eventually learned to ignore them. They were dreams, his subconscious informed him, though the word was lost almost as quickly as it was found. But he still remembered that they were not real.
After a million candles, he realized that the people were there to look at his wings. Just for fun, he spread them out as far as his small cage, sitting on a pedestal, would allow. They all seemed to gasp in unison and babbled even more after that. But eventually that died down, even though he kept spreading his wings out and flexing them, as if hoping he could learn how they work.
After a million more candles, the people took him in the middle of the night into a rolling carriage, where he was taken to another cage, where more people gawked at him. Then, he was moved again, ages later. He never seemed to stop moving, after such a long, where he saw different humans gawk at him and kneel at his cage. But he stopped caring about the strange humans. In fact, he stopped caring about anything, about the shackles that seemed to be part of his wrists, they had been there so long, or the endless amount of cages, always small and claustrophobic, or the pleading voice at the back of his head that told him to get away, get away, but he didn't what was being said or how to get away what did that mean anyway…?
Nothing mattered anymore.
Until she came along.
A/N: Rating may change. I don't know yet. Please review!