"Funny how fast this party dropped," Sydney, a friend of Taylor's, blurted. She took a hasty sip at a bottle of water, screwing the cap back on slowly. The conversation between the group of friends was reclining and had reached a lull. The music had been toned down, but was still audible. Taylor had not moved from her chair; moreover, two of her male friends pushed over a couch for more seating room around her. She appreciated the gesture, thanking them when they did so. The offer was in vain. No one sat on the couch; instead, the chairs they had brought over previously were their comfort.
This, though, was not true. Michael sat in the couch, filling up the space with his wings. The sofa was set opposite from Taylor. The Soul Angel tapped at his leg idly to the rhythm of the music in the background. The conversation started up again, and Taylor asserted herself to converse in this one.
Laughter echoed in Michael's ears. Smiles blinded his vision. He accepted this as a rare pleasure. The nagging feeling he had, gnawing away at his conscience, reminded him of the task set before him. In the next few weeks, Taylor would descend into deeper ailments, one following instantaneously after the other. A short amount of time to get started on the quest, let alone find a way to resolve it, was very challenging. With a deep sigh escaping his lips, Michael shut his eyes and tried to focus on the Soul Rip problem.
Taylor is a strong, healthy girl, he told himself. She could hold out longer than most other recipients of the Soul Rip. And that Dan kid said her heart was pure... and energy, too. I'll have to gather information from Lily about this shit...
He stood to leave. He stopped mid-stride. Forcing himself to look away from Taylor, he trudged wearily on. When he left the doorway, he spread his wings wide and leaped into the sky.
---
"If I had a hammer, I would build a house for two
If I had a sailing ship, I'd take a trip with you.
If I had a poet's hand I'd write a verse for thee!
And if I had a painter's touch, on canvas you would be.
But I don't have a hammer, and I don't have a ship
So I can't build a house, and we can't take a trip!
And I'll never be a poet, and I'll never have a painter's grace,
So I'll never write your verse, nor immortalize your face...
Tell me that you love me, whether or not it's true
Cause wherever I am, I just want to be with you!
Whether I'm stuck in hell, or outside in the rain
Every day without you is a day filled with pain..."
The poem nagged at Michael's mind. He was never good with words nor art. How could you blame him, for one; he had no emotions to inspire him! His heart started to grow heavy. Dark thoughts were not good for his health. His eyes traced around a glitzy building with high patios and terraces. He tried to eye out what he saw; he could have sworn he was staring at Lily. Another figure was with her; Lily made frantic movements, and the other figure disappeared from view. Lily regained her posture and waved as Michael drew closer.
He landed beside her on the terrace, keeping his distance. He looked at her suspiciously. "Who was that just now?" he questioned.
Lily shrugged casually. "What brings you here? Are you ready to realize your full destiny?" Lily drew a smirk on her face. Michael ignored it, fighting past the seductive appearance. He spat on the ground before her. Of course, the spit phased through the floor. Nonetheless, he had made his point. Lily scowled.
"I'm starting to think less of this whole operation. An entire plan that I have a major role in and I'm not even informed; how clever!" He stepped closer, tensing his shoulders and hardened his jaw. Lily backed away slightly, wings starting to reverberate. "Am I just a pawn? A puppet for this bastard Surno to master, a being for him to manipulate? Have you realized he's done the same to you?" Michael said it on impulse. He was on a roll, and he would not stop now. He seemed to have set doubt to Lily's own part in Surno's little game, though. Michael saw it in the way she faced away from him.
"I..." Lily began.
"Don't try to stray away from the topic!" he shouted, cutting the air with his fist. "When will you damned Soul Angels finally answer me directly? I had that assassin Peter the airhead, the indirect bitch who doesn't even like her own existence as a Soul Angel named Lily, and the emotion stealing bastard Surno!" Lily was at the opposite edge of the terrace, gripping onto the fence with strained hands. Michael breathed heavily; the outburst was not normal of him, ever. He calmed down. Lily was the key to answers, and he would have to gain her trust.
Lily brought a hand to rest on her chest. "I... I just want you to know that..." She took a step forward. Michael did not react. "I'm... I'm..." she barreled into him, wrapping the boy in her arms.
"I'm sorry for what I'm about to do," she whispered into his ear.
Michael tried to wriggle out of her grasp. "Wait, wha-"
Lily brought a knee into his groin, forcing him to double over in agony. She brought an elbow down on the back of his head, and he fell unconscious. His limp body phased through the terrace floor, striking the ground with enough force to set a dent in it. Lily began to laugh. "I won't have to worry about him for awhile."
"We." She spun around at the deep voice. A brief surge of panic shot through her before she realized she was staring into a white theater mask. Lily released an explosive sigh.
"Phew. Surno, don't sneak up on me, please." She crossed her arms. "So are you going to elaborate on the new addition to our plan?" Surno nodded. He took a step to the edge of the patio and pointed down over the fence. Lily followed his finger, which ended at the unconscious Michael. She bit her lip.
"When he awakens. Lie to him. Force him. Anything." he turned to face her, reaching out a gloved hand. She looked down at the new piece to his attire. She grasped it timidly. "Promise. Never question me." He leaned close and brushed her face with his free hand. Lily's knees started to shake slightly. Her lips twitched, as if she was about to say something. Surno placed a gloved finger on her mouth. "Shh."
He let loose a deep, guttural laugh. Lily still stood silent. Surno's 'outburst' ended. "I'm sorry."
"What!?" The word passed through her lips and ended up muffled. Surno clamped his hand on her mouth and another on her neck. She clawed at the hands. Her eyes began to glow red; Surno's turned green behind the mask. The battle of their two energies lasted for what seemed like an eternity, when in real time it was only a few seconds. Lily collapsed and found herself crashing down next to Michael's cold body. Surno stared down with an apathetic look. Peter appeared from the blue beside him, smiling down.
"Do I get to play dead, too?" he joked. Surno glared at him.
"Maybe."
Peter shuddered. "I was being sarcastic. So, are those other SA's coming in soon? I hate to wait." Surno nodded gravely. Peter chuckled. "The strong silent type, that's what you are, aren't ya?" Surno fumbled inside his shirt, and pulled out an onyx stone.
"Wish you were too," he replied as he crushed the object with a single fist. Peter inhaled deeply, followed closely by Surno. The ashes of the stone started to circle around the two. They multiplied as the air started to grow thick. Peter smiled.
"We sure haven't changed a bit, have we?" he turned to face his friend, who was made a Soul Angel twenty years after he, all of those centuries ago. Surno returned the stare. He nodded silently. Peter grinned. "Are you sure you're alright playing the role of the 'big bad' leader while I set the scene?" Surno nodded once more. Peter shrugged.
"I guess it's your funeral, then."
For once, Surno laughed genuinely. A smile formed behind his mask. The two were enveloped by the stone's broken shards. The dust settled, and the ashes fell to the floor. They were gone.
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