Disclaimer: The Immortals belong to Davis/Panzer, who have decided not to use them anymore.  As I find the situation intolerable, I'm taking them.  Don't try to stop me.

Angel

©, HonorH

Why are you keeping me here?  I'm not a dangerous man.  Really.  You don't understand what's happened.

She loves me.  She knows it.  Why don't you ask her?  Listen to her, really listen.  You'll understand then.

You want me to tell it?  Fine.  I'll tell you, but you won't believe me.

I met her about two and a half years ago.  She was beautiful, radiant, an angel with silver hair.  Everyone wanted to be near her.  They flocked to her like butterflies drawn to a bright flower.  I thought she'd never notice me.  But she did.  She did!

I came to her bar for the reason everyone does: to simply be in her presence.  That was all I could ask.  But one day, she sat down next to me and spoke to me.  She asked me to tell her my troubles.

I did.  I told her about how much I hated my job, and how I wished I could find a better situation.  How I had no true friends.  How much I wished I could be the sort of man who dares.  And she looked at me, sympathy in her beautiful eyes, and told me the drink was on the house.  She wished me well.

In that moment, I knew.  I knew I'd found my eternal soulmate.

I visited the bar every day after that.  She would see me and smile—oh, that smile that shamed the City of Light!  I was special to her, I knew.  That smile was just for me.

Others didn't see it, though.  He didn't see it.

Him?  I suppose all sunlight has to have a shadow.  He was hers.  All dark and moody, a hulking, hairy Neanderthal.  If she was an angel, he was a demon.  He was all wrong for her.  I could have told her.  In fact, I sent her letters telling her he was wrong for her.

No, I didn't sign my name to them.  I was afraid if the Demon Lover ever saw them, he'd come after me, and he frightened me.  I'm not a large man, as you can see.  I've had enough bullying to last me a lifetime.

Then, one day, scuttlebutt around the bar was that she had broken up with him.  That was as it should be.  He had none of her light, her life.  She needed to soar free, and he dragged her down.  She seemed sad, and I was sorry for that, but she always gave me that smile.  Perhaps, I thought then, she was finally understanding.  Perhaps she knew that I was right for her.  I left her gifts sometimes, and she always appreciated them.

Time passed.  I could wait for her.  My perfect angel.

Everyone loved her.  The women, I didn't mind.  They would flock to her, each eager to speak to her, to touch her, to understand her.  They hoped some of her light would fall on them.  Oh, some were jealous of her, but why shouldn't they be?  But most of them loved her.

The men, I minded.  They looked at her like she was a piece of meat.  I would hear their coarse voices calling her name, and it enraged me.  You wouldn't believe some of the things they would say to her.  It's them you should arrest, not me.  My intentions were always pure; theirs were not.

I was content to sit in her presence, waiting for the day when she would finally understand that I was the one for her.  I had great hope, you see.  She never looked at any of the other men once the Demon Lover left.  I could be patient and wait for her.

Then, one day, my worst nightmare came true: the Demon Lover returned.  She took him to her office in back to speak to him.  I was overcome with curiosity, so I followed at a distance.  I watched through the office window and was pleased to see they seemed to be arguing.

But then—horror of horrors!  She allowed him to embrace her, to kiss her.  It was so—so wrong!  Why couldn't she see it?  He was so wrong for her.

I tried to make her see.  I sent her letters telling her how wrong he was for her.

Yes, yes, I did write those things.  I know they sound bad, but I had to make her understand.  Sometimes you have to overstate your case.  I would never have hurt her.  She was my angel; why would I hurt the person I loved the most in the world?

I never loved anyone like I loved—like I still love—her.  No one ever loved me, either, until her.  Others pretended, but I could see, I could sense, her love.  It was perfect, just like her.

She didn't understand my letters, either.  I think the Demon Lover did, though.  I could feel his dark presence whenever I came to the bar.  I felt his eyes on me.  He knew what was between the she and I.  His eyes were on me constantly, and I knew I had to make my move.  I had to get her away from him.

I'd heard about a drug that could make a woman extremely pliable and open to suggestion.  I made it my business to purchase some.

No!  No, I would never have done that to her!  She was an angel; to do that would be blasphemy.  My love for her is purer than the whitest snow.

I just needed the drug so I could get her alone, to make her understand.  I knew she wouldn't come with me willingly; the Demon Lover had too much of a hold on her for that.

Once I had the drug, I waited for my chance.  One evening, I finally got it.  The Demon Lover wasn't there, so I just waited until she left her drink alone long enough for me to slip the drug in.  A little while later, I led her to my waiting car.

I hated doing it.  It seemed wrong, seeing her face, always so alive, lose all expression.  But I knew it was for the best.

I had prepared for her carefully.  I had purchased a town house with a loft, then transformed the loft into her place.  Everything in it was beautiful, just as she was.  It was also impossible to get in or out of once sealed.  I knew she'd resist me initially.  All I needed was to keep her in until she understood, really understood, why she was best off with me.

This is important.  I bought her a dress, a white dress that made her look like the angel she was.  I dressed her in it.  Remember that.

Then I sealed the loft.  I had two cameras inside to watch and make sure she didn't free herself.  My angel is a clever one.  There was also a speaker, so I could communicate with her.

When she awoke, she wasn't happy.  I spoke to her, trying to explain, but she was too angry to listen.  She didn't understand.  I could wait.

The problem was, she didn't understand who she was.  She couldn't, I think, because other people, people like her Demon Lover, had been telling her otherwise too long.  They would tell her she wasn't worthy of worship, that she'd done wrong things.  Things like you're telling me about her.  You say she's a thief.  You're wrong.  She's pure and good and perfect.  She would never do anything wrong.  But people kept telling her she was bad, so she started believing them.  I would convince her otherwise.

She did attempt to escape.  That meant I had to release a gas canister in the room.  I had to let her know she couldn't leave me.

When she awoke, she told me she didn't want to hurt me, but she would leave.  I didn't understand then.  I do now.

My mistake was that I underestimated her and the Demon Lover.  She managed to work out when I was asleep and then somehow disabled the alarm I'd installed on the door.  Clever angel.

He found out where I was keeping her.  I don't know how.  These two occurrences took place the same night.  As my camera spotted him invading my house, I took the gun I'd been keeping for just this occasion and made for her room.  I hate guns, but I was willing to kill for my angel.

She was leaving the loft just as I started up the stairs.  In panic, I raised my gun and aimed it at her.  I never meant to hurt her, of course, but the gun did stop her.

Next thing I knew, he was there.  He was yelling at me to drop my gun, threatening me in that bellicose way he has.  I froze.

Then she was descending, looking more like an angel than ever.  She told me it was all over, and to put down my gun.  She said it would be all right.

But it wouldn't.  She would go with him.  I couldn't let it happen, do you understand?  Even if it cost me my life, I couldn't let it happen.

So I shot her.  That moment will live in my memory forever.  I still see the smoke, still see the startled look in her eyes, still see the sudden redness on the perfect white of that beautiful dress I'd given her.  She fell gracefully, sinking against the stairs.  So beautiful, even in death .  .  .

I expected the Demon Lover to kill me.  He didn't.  Instead, he just swore and came at me.  In panic, I shot him, too.

He didn't stop!  The wound seemed to have no effect on him.  I told you he was a demon!  He just kept coming at me.  He struck the gun from my hands, wrestled me down (I was no match for him), and handcuffed me to the railing.

Then I watched as he stumbled up the stairs to where she lay.  He laid down beside her, reaching one arm over her, and he, too, died.

There they lay, angel and demon, white and black, light and darkness.  Somehow, they were beautiful then.

You must listen to this: they were dead.  There was no sound of breath from either of them.  They were dead, I tell you.

But then she wasn't.  She drew in a breath, her eyes opened, and she sat up.  She looked at me, handcuffed to the railing, then at him.

I should have expected it.  An angel can't die.

As I sat there, staring in wonder and worship, she reached out and touched him.  And then he wasn't dead, either.  As her hand brushed his face, he, too, drew in a breath and opened his eyes.  I saw it happen.

I understood, don't you see?  I told her I understood.  I knew she had the power over life and death.  I explained to her that I knew, that I was the only one who really understood.

She looked at me in pity.  "No," she said.  "No, you don't understand.  You're better off that way."

They left me for a time.  When I saw her again, she was in the beaded dress she'd been wearing when I'd taken her from her old life.  The white dress I'd given her was nowhere to be seen.  They cleaned up the blood from the stairway, but if you could find that dress, the dress with the red breast, you'd see for yourself.

I know she never said anything about a dress!  This is what I'm telling you!  There was a dress, and it would witness to you the truth, if only you would look for it.

He called in the police.  They came and arrested me.  I tried to explain to them, and that's when they sent you in.  They didn't understand, either.

Perhaps she does, though.  She looked at me sadly as they took me away.  That's all I have left of her, that look.  But at least I know she loves me.

You have to let me out of here.  There's no one to protect her out there.  There are all those awful men, especially the Demon Lover.  Do you think they'll protect her the way she needs?  No!  I'm the only one who understands.  I can protect her purity.

You don't understand.  You don't want to.  Like all the others, you want to keep her to yourself.  You want to keep her from me.  You won't.  You can't.  She and I are destined to be together.  You'll see one of these days.  All of you will see.

She and I will be together.  If not in this world, then in the next.  I swear it.

--end--

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