The Spark of an Angel

Chapter 25 - Dragon Storm

A loud roar came from the sky, it'd been a day since it rained and they got their supply of water in, Patrick looked up into the sky, "the sky..." he whispered quietly, glancing at Welt, who'd turned at the sound of the roar, "what the hell was that?"

Welt glanced at Patrick then back into the sky, his eyes narrowed like daggers, finally finding their mark, "something's coming." He whispered, looking into the sky, "I'd recommend we run."

"But-" Patrick tried to fight the blind man's decision, but was shut down with a look from him.

The pair ran or at least attempted to run, they ran through the wooded area they were in, running in the direction they were walking in. The pair ran as fast as they could, running in between trees and other planets, Welt soon stopped, looking at Patrick, he held his hand up to stop him from running any further, "I think we may have lost whatever it was." He said quietly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled a cigarette out. Patrick slapped it out of his hand, "are you seriously going to have a smoke after that stressful incident?!" He demanded, anger flooding the tone of his voice.

Welt sighed, glancing at the cigarette that was now in the ground, he pulled another out and quickly stuffed it in his mouth before Patrick could knock it out of his hands, "yes. I am." He said, "and you can't stop me." He pulled the lighter from his pocket, "and lower your voice whatever that was could hear you."

Patrick scoffed, lowering his voice, "Are you calm, because I'm certainly not calm."

"I'm trying to get calmer with the help of a cigarette." Welt said, waving the cigarette in the air.

"I can see that." He scowled, "well I'd much rather use a more conventional way of getting calmer. Like taking deep breaths."

His words caused the blind man to scoff, "I used to do that, way back when I had my vision," he pointed to the darkened lenses of his glasses, "now the only way I can calm my mind is my having one of these. My enemies as in the Dark Legion because they've always been my enemy even from the very beginning although I didn't know it then, but they were the ones controlling the artificial intelligence. They realized that the only person who could kill Vesper Armstrong was Vesper Armstrong himself; they succeeded in killing Vesper. But what came from Vesper was a weaker man, who wanted nothing but revenge for the loss of his love, Everett." The blind man took the cigarette from his mouth and blew, the air coming from his mouth was outlined with smoke, "in the beginning I was blinded with revenge for Everett. Blinded by anger that I didn't see the most obvious thing I should've seen..." his voice trailed off. His lips twitched around the butt of the cigarette.

"Which was what?" Patrick raised his eyebrows.

The blind man changed the subject, "nevermind. Although, I do wonder what it'd be like if I'd realized that. Maybe they'd still be alive. Anyways... nevermind that, Patrick. There's always the 'what if' to keep us wondering."

"What if I died instead of Alex. And Alex was here with you instead of me. Would you just be talking to yourself?"

Welt's eyes narrowed as Patrick's question left his mouth, "what are you saying?"

"You and Alex are a very similar person, perhaps the same person indeed," a frown took over his lips.

"Then in theory, yes I would just be talking to myself. I'd probably get sick of that very quickly, so I'm glad you are alive and not him. It'd just be myself talking to myself about myself." He said, sarcastically.

Patrick scoffed at Welt's words, "why do you always have to speak in riddles?"

He frowned, leaning against a tree for a moment, "that wasn't a riddle. It was the truth, as it always is with me. But it's just always myself talking to myself about myself or some shit like that." He glanced at Patrick who'd stopped and turned to face him, "I've always been like that too, for as long as I can remember, I have been." He took a draw from the cigarette, "I've used this to calm my mind too, for as long as I can remember." He tapped the cigarette, sighing and smoke came from his mouth, "in my dreams, I am with my family, happily hiding in the corn fields that surrounded my house where I grew up, hiding from my elder brothers," he scoffed, "but I can't get what the hell I want. I never could and never will. I will never find either peace or rest in this world, maybe in the next I'll find it."