Speculative Chaos

Soulblade

Round 2 – Part 1 of the Fabulous Spec-Fic Smackdown 2024: Picture prompts (shown below).

Word count = 2495

"Damned 'coon," I cursed, surveying the overturned trash can.

Earlier today when I took the trash out, the raccoon watched me from a high tree branch, as if to mock, 'Foolish human, you cannot thwart me.' Sure enough, the heavy cinderblock I placed on the metal lid proved no challenge to the confounded critter.

Losing my factory maintenance job and the resulting money worries had left me in sour disposition. With the local economy downturn, finding another job had been fruitless. I spent much of my free time volunteering at a nearby homeless shelter, mostly doing needed repairs. The work kept me out of trouble and I got free meals.

Grumbling, I angrily tossed the dented can against the brick wall with a clatter, and again for the umpteenth time, I gathered up the widely strewn rubbish. An orange full moon, just above the horizon, cast long shadows across the lonely alley on this warm, humid night.

But strangely, this time edible bits remained, including a half-eaten pizza slice. Usually, the raccoon was more thorough with its scavenging. Maybe something spooked it.

A shiny object caught my attention, discarded among brushy mulberry shoots that poked through cracked asphalt. Coming closer, I gasped at my find: a double-edged broadsword, like a medieval knight might wield, gleaming in the moonlight. Lots of junk gets discarded in the alley, but this was a first.

Odd, unreadable inscriptions, like ancient runes, marked the shiny steel blade. When I grasped the brass hilt and lifted the sword, it hummed, vibrating in my hand and sending electric tingles up my arm to my chest. Gasping at the sensation, I dropped the weapon, sending it clattering to the pavement.

Momentarily stunned, I backed up and tripped over a body.

What the...? Heart suddenly pounding, I crab-walked backwards to get away, while gravel poked at my palms.

How did I miss this? The body was not here just a moment ago. That is, before I touched the sword...

A young woman with long, dark hair and cloaked in a simple white gown sprawled face down on the asphalt. Her slender fingers twitched. So at least she was still alive, but obviously hurt. Regaining my senses, I crawled closer, and something else caught my eye.

Wings.

Gauzy, translucent wings supported with wavering dark veins, like tree leaves, folded half-closed across her back, extending nearly to her sandalled feet. Was this some sort of elaborate angel Halloween costume? Bit early for that. But closer inspection revealed the wings were physically fastened near her shoulder-blades by thick veiny branches. Periodically, they subtly fluttered, as if trembling, to reveal cuts and tears in the thin membrane.

I kneeled beside her and carefully rolled her to a side while lifting and cradling her head. Drying trickles of blood originating from her hairline marred an otherwise perfect tan face. With a startled gasp, doe-like golden eyes fluttered open and focused on my face.

"Soulblade," she pleaded in a barely audible, airy voice. "Is it still here?"

"The sword?" I answered. "I found it."

A relieved breath blew from her lips. "There is danger..." Her words fell away as eyes closed and her head settled back with a faint groan. My many questions would have to wait until later.

The raccoon hopped upon the wall, gazing, and I asked it, "What do you know about this?" But it did not answer beyond a twitch of nose whiskers.

First tucking the sword blade under my belt as a crude sheath, I lifted this strange woman carefully in my arms, and carried her through the creaky iron gate, across a weedy lawn, and into my small, one-bedroom house. Inside, I gently laid her on my bed and covered her with a blanket.