Biblical-Sequel to TMIAA (Frerard)

1: Frank's Time Of The Month - Well Year Actually

Soaring...

The wind rushing past so quickly - it almost hurt, but it was a good pain, an exhilarating rush that even the fastest jet couldn't reproduce.

Frank knew he was dreaming - sort of, at least, he was aware that this wasn't really happening, but he didn't mind. So far - this was a very good dream, and he didn't think he could wake himself up even if he wanted to, so he just enjoyed the sensation of being in the air.

Frank wondered what he was flying in to feel this way, because he had never experienced something like this before, and he had piloted many different types of aircraft, but for some reason, he couldn't see anything - just a fuzzy whiteness, but he could feel everything.

Something pumping behind him, but it wasn't a machine; it was part of him, like an arm or a leg.

With agonizing slowness, Frank's vision began to come into focus, and he realized that it had been clouds obscuring his view of the world around him.

The first thing he noticed was the lack of any contraption supporting him; he was aloft in the air without the metal body of a plane around him. Next, he took in the scenery - he was flying over a scorching desert, and under his feet, a heated battle was occurring.

Finally, Frank glanced behind him, and he couldn't help the surprised gasp that emitted from his mouth when he took in what was keeping him airborne, completely forgetting about the fighting below him in his shock.

Frank had wings - glorious feathered appendages that beat steadily against the sky, using the shifting air currents to hold his small body up. They were stunning; dark grey in color at the ends, but the shade progressively lightened to a pure white, and Frank wished he had a mirror at hand so he could examine them closer, but even from this awkward angle, they took Frank's breath away.

Frank had no idea how he had come by these pinions, but this was a dream after all, so he just brushed it off and continued to soar like he had been doing it his entire life.

He wasn't completely in control of his body, it seemed to be moving for him, and the Frank that knew this was a dream was lodged somewhere in the back of his brain - observing, but not participating.

A nagging sensation began to overtake Frank's joy at flying with no restrictions whatsoever, and even though he tried to brush it off, the persistent feeling wouldn't leave his head, and Frank was getting irritated at the fact that he couldn't just relax and enjoy the wondrous sights around him.

His eyes constantly scanned the battlefield, searching for something, but he hadn't figured out what yet. The people below had wings as well, some were similar to his, while others were skeletal and bony, and they didn't seem like they could support the weight of their owners at all, even though he was witnessing them taking to the air.

Red...a flash of red...where is it?

There was red everywhere - the red stain of blood on the ground, but not the exact shade that dream Frank was searching for. He was looking for something brighter - startlingly so...red hair?

Frank could sense his dream self's thoughts, but only faintly, as if he was looking through a fogged up glass at the images his other self's mind contained. Whoever the owner of the red hair was, he was very important to dream Frank, and he was panicking at the fact that he hadn't found him yet.

Suddenly, dream Frank banked right, flying even faster toward an unknown destination, and Frank was forced to tag along for the ride. Despite the sheer terror he could feel emitting from his other side, Frank couldn't help but let his heart soar at the way they glided through the air with more ease than he ever thought was possible.