The concept of flight has always awed everyone. To be able to soar unlimited in this world, the empty air which has always been unreachable to wingless creatures, is a feeling that everyone instinctively craves. Even to just see a picture of a winged person brings us to sweet, endless imagination.
Did we ever think we could fly of our will? Did we ever dream that our backs would one day sprout massive wings?
I have imagined and dreamt, very long ago, but I have never ever wished for such...such a nightmare!
It hurts! It hurts!
I can still feel it – my right wing. Why didn't I see it? What made me swerve so low to the right? I had been so focused on Thelma's safety that I forgot my own, even after she was...gone. No, she can't be gone! I'll find us a way out and everything would go back to normal – as it was before the Gifting.
On the clear windows of the building before me was the reflection of a boy falling rapidly, his remaining wing beating in vain against the buffering wind – a sight that taunted and disgusted me.
What's that? Someone's falling from the sky! An angel! Those hunters sure love to flaunt their might in broad daylight. One of them is closing in. I think that one's a goner. No luck for us. Those bastards would let us rot for eternity!
The world fell into an inky silence as an enormous pressure banked into my right. A swallow-tail Sentry daringly closed in. Its pilot grinned when his eyes met mine. A slew of eagerness flooded my brain from his direction.
Your mine, little birdie! There's no hope of getting away. The captain ain't getting you.
I flipped my body over and turned my wing with effort. The Sentry was practically in my face, and I easily dived forward to grab on of one its metal wing.
I won't be dying so soon. Not without avenging Thelma and the others. The world can not achieve its salvation so easily after what they did to us!
The Sentry pilot cringed when I reached an arm through the acrylic plastic canopy. For such an eager and ambitious man, he was an amateur. I grinned maliciously as I pulled him into a chokehold, and his fingers flew from the control board.
Get away! That plane's out of control! Aaahhh! Get out of here!
Unknowing of the situation below, the pilot continued to claw at my hands. His consciousness dimmed until only a bubble of the original pressure I felt before prodded at my mind. I've never tried this before. It was Thelma's thing – to occupy and take control of a living, sentient body.
"Your captain will be happy today, Jason. He'll have me," I told the pilot. Just as the nose of the Sentry was to touch the ground, I pressed on the control board allowing it to level out and stop. The pilot stared at me in horror as I transferred my intent into his mind. I whispered my last words, "And I'll have you."
What just happened? Wasn't that the last angel? That's terrible. Why are they killing the angels? The hunters are taking away our hope for salvation. Where's our right to die?! They're ruining us!
The thoughts of the people below gradually faded one by one as the transfer completed. I moved the pilot's fingers over the control board, his knowledge of the machine and his mission bloomed like little flowers in my mind.
There was no longer pain or phantom feelings on my spine and back, and I relaxed into the rubber cushion. The body of a young boy flopped over my knees, his one wing contorting backwards.
It was cyan with black highlights, on top of which were marked with yellow eye-like spots somewhat like the tail end of a peacock. They had been pristine and perfect when they first appeared during the Gifting. Now it looked like it had gone through a blender.
The right side had been shorn off when an overexcited hunter had leapt in front of me with a flashy sword. Why couldn't they have spared me some time to give my last words to a long-time friend? Now, it was entirely gone, so precise was the hunter's strike.
He would pay! They would all pay! They would serve as the perfect tribute to my sacrifice – my own Gifting to the world.
A short excerpt based on some notes I wrote a long time ago:
sta.sh/0291bd0pfh1f
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Junkyard
Random⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Welcome to Junkyard ･:*.ೃ࿔⋆ Here is where I post a bunch of words per entry to rebuild my writing groove. Contained within are short stories, poems, rants or non-fic articles, of various themes, on various characters and genres. My goal was...
