The Night The Stars Fell

Chapter 2

My fragmented consciousness brought me into a dream, something I couldn’t have ever understood. I was holding something that I thought was Songbird. I felt that it was songbird, but my eyes told me something entirely different. This blade in my hand was far larger than it should be. Not only that, but its handle was hot, so hot it should’ve burnt my hand, but it didn’t, it felt like a warm hug, a kind, gentle, blistering heat. My vision of it swam, I couldn’t make out its whole figure, but I knew the handle I was holding was Songbird’s. That was th only part I should have known that was a part of my blade, but I knew this sword was mine. It was the same I worked with everyday, even if it was entirely different. I didn’t know what was happening, why I was dreaming this, what it all meant, I didn’t understand what was happening.
I didn’t even have time to understand. I woke up slowly, but the dream snapped instantly. My connection to that dream was cut too short for me to understand in the moment. What I did understand was that I should be in danger, someone attacked me. Someone kidnapped me, brought to wherever I was. However, something was very odd about where I was, it wasn’t a cell, or somewhere I’d imagine being held. It was a cozy bedroom, I was laid with a blanket over me in a surprisingly nice bed. The walls around me were built of wood, with a window built into the wall looking out into a forest. I felt dangerously calm for being stolen from my road home. I didn’t know where I was but I didn’t snap awake, I woke up just like every other day, but in a completely different place. I sat stiff on the bed for longer than I likely should have before I realized the one difference between today and others that mattered. I was unarmed. I didn’t know where Songbird was but I intended to find out. I got up to explore the house, but when I got up pain shot to my head and I fell back down. I gasped from the hammering in my brain and the expected panic of that morning set in. I realized that where I was may have felt cozy, but it was just a facade, something wasn’t right. It just couldn’t be after what had happened the night before. This newfound feeling made my movement through the house more careful. I moved through every room more quietly and made sure to take note of even the smallest things, the pans hanging from the ceiling, the bookshelf full of books from around the world, the bedrooms that were filled to the brim with decoration, they were lived in. This wasn’t some criminal hideaway, this was a home. The only thing out of order was occupancy, I seemed to be alone. This clearly lived in home was empty and I had no idea why. I did notice that the doors were locked, but these were no normal locks, they didn’t have deadbolts, or padlocks, or anything of the sort. The only reason I even knew they were locked was that I couldn't open the door, the knob wouldn’t turn, and the door wouldn’t even move when I tried to force it. I just kept exploring hoping to find a way out, or anything to give me an idea. Nothing ever came and I never saw anything until hours later when I heard him open the front door. I was quick to get to my feet and get ready for an attacker. They never came. The man that approached me wasn’t an adversary. He was an old, well-kempt man, with quality clothing on and a slow deliberate pace when approaching.
“How are you Percy?” He asked me, with a scarily familiar voice.
“Who the hell are you? Where the hell am I?” I demanded
“Don’t take that tone with me, you have no idea what you’ve been doing.”
“I asked who the hell are you, and that also means who the hell are you to tell me that,” I was aggravated quickly with that old man. I wasn’t aggravated for too long though, something very forceful changed my tone quickly. A force I couldn’t see and could barely resist shoved down on my shoulders, forcing me to the ground. I didn’t know how he did it, but I knew he had, I tried fighting, but the best I could muster was a kneel with one knee off the ground.
He scoffed and said “How many angels have you killed? 10? 20? 50? 100? How many have you killed?”
“I don’t know, Okay? I just do it. I have to.”
“No you do not. Tell me, what do they say as you kill them? What do you know about them?” I heard pain and anger ebb into voice, but he quickly shot it down to continue, “Why do you think you have to?”
“I don’t think, I know, old man, they’re powerful, they’re dangerous.” The force on my shoulders grew, forcing me to the ground.
“I am dangerous, not them, boy.” That comment struck me, he was angry now, he didn’t even control it.
“Who are you, why are you doing this to me?” I still tried fighting whatever was pushing me down to no avail.
“My name is Cain, you need to learn it well.” Something struck me like a bolt of lightning. I knew him, this was the Cain. I had met him when I was a kid, he gave my mom Songbird. He said it would protect me. It didn’t protect her.
“What do you want with me?” I was demanding an answer to this question, anger was beginning to flood my bloodstream. I was gaining strength against my invisible adversary too, I was able to force my way back to a kneel, then to an upright position. “Why did you bring me here?”
“My intent was a conversation. Obviously you don’t want that.” I saw him reach for something in his belt, I figured he had a blade, he was going to kill me, I wouldn’t be able to stop him with this pressure still on me. The thing he pulled out of his belt shocked me, it was Songbird, but it wasn’t calling like I thought it would, he really was Cain, not some renegade angel. He threw me the blade, but I couldn’t catch it, not only was I slow, I thought he would kill me, not arm me. In an instant the pressure was gone. “You want a fight so bad I’ll give you one,” he said, but he didn’t pull out a weapon, he just stood there,  calm, menacing. I had picked up Songbird and was poised to attack, so I did, one singular thrust aimed at his chest. It didn’t connect, in fact it didn’t even continue to its target, my movement veered and Cain stayed still.
“Missed” he said, he was egging it on.
I did it again, again, again, attack after attack, slash after slash, none of them succeeded and yet he never moved. I didn’t know what to do but I threw rage at him with each attack. I don’t think I processed it enough to know why, but I wanted to kill him.  Each attack had intent behind it, malice behind it. I don’t think I would’ve stopped until I passed out if he had let me. He didn’t let me. He finally moved his hand toward me and said something under his breath that I still can’t decipher. Instantly I was sat on the floor and Songbird had gone back to him.
“Are you finally ready to talk?” He asked, tired.
“I don’t really have a choice, magic man.” I spat back
“You’re right kid, you don’t. Now listen because there’s a lot you need to know. You’re not protecting shit. You don’t understand shit. I know what you think, you think that these angels, well hell you probably don’t even think they’re really angels. They are, that blood on your hand is from God’s genuine angels. They were trying to protect you.”
“Yeah thanks for the spiel. Why if they’re so good does the blade you gave me scream bloody murder at me when I’m around, that sure doesn’t seem like a good sound.”
“You’re right, it’s an awful sound, a sound I know all too much about, but it’s not awful in the grand scheme of things, our brains just have no way of processing it truly. It’s supposedly a heavenly choir.” Something in me snapped at this point, for once in a long time I really gave it a thought to what I was doing. Was I really murdering them for the good of people or was I simply a cog in a machine of misunderstanding, a machine of great suffering. In that moment I couldn’t have ever grasped the reality of what I had been doing, but I understood the agony of my confusion.
With this agony in mind I gave a half-hearted “I’m sorry” to Cain.
He snorted and said plainly “It doesn’t matter” each word pushing me deeper into agony. I called for God, for forgiveness, but nothing washed over, no feeling went away. I felt alone in a sea of pain. He continued pushing at me with every word he said “Those angels, they aren’t here by choice. They are here not of their own volition, not even of God’s, they’re here because they have nowhere else to go. They have nowhere to go and no purpose, no hope, yet they choose to go out and protect the humans, protect the filthy people of this world from all the unleashed evil.”
“You think they’re so great, why did they kill my mother? Huh? Why did they kill her, why when Songbird was screaming sirens in my ears did that thing murder her? Where did I miss this heavenly choir muddled with my mom’s screams, should I have simply listened harder? Should I have ignored the blood cloaking my twelve year old hands? Should I have ignored that damned angels smile, his grin as her last light faded from her eyes?” I lashed out at him not knowing he felt my pain, not understanding where I was telling him all that.
“Carol” he nearly sobbed, he got choked up, he did so saying my mother’s name. He said it and I paused, just for a second, and looked around, then realizing what my pain and agony and anger hadn’t let me just moments before. I realized I was sitting in my mom’s house.