Dangerous: A Marcel Styles Fan Fiction

36: Angel of Death

36: Angel of Death

   Not even the streetlights raining down their single, illuminating beams could add a decent light to the darkness of the woods surrounding this abandoned road. I walked through black blindness until a light drew me to one side of the road peaking brightly through the trees. It led me to a trail.

   The path wove through the darkness of the trees and acted like a heavenly tunnel because of the light more fiery and hypnotizing than the sun. As I hiked up its slope, firefly light danced around me, visible in my peripheral vision.

   Under the trance of the first and most luminous light, the hike up the hill seemed to take only a minute. When my feet touched the end of the path and the site it led to, the light disappeared and left only the dark forest at my back and a familiar fence in front of me. Using the power of my own will and not being led by some unknown entity like flies to honey, I walked along the fence until rising, dark figures in front of me turned white and began to spell out “Hollywood.” I reached the hole and ducked through, trespassing alone.

   The air grew light, but misty as I passed the boundary. It rained subtly and untraced light illuminated each small, spat drop, making the air glitter against the black forest and city and the dark sky.

   Against the large letter “O,” sat a figure. He was dressed in a plain, white t-shirt and light, torn skinny jeans. Brilliant brown curls fell loose around his face and his perfect, porcelain skin seemed to glow. Against the white of the Hollywood sign, large and radiant, two large, angel wings of a brighter shade of white – much like pearls – rested, emerging from this boy’s back. It didn’t take long for the angel to notice my presence. He turned to me, watching through beautiful, emerald eyes behind admittedly dorky taped glasses. A large, familiar dimpled smile brightened Marcel’s face at the sight of me, and he rose with the brilliant feathered wings following.

   He was back as the sweet, light, nerdy and angelic soul I’d given myself to. He took slow steps to me and I found myself sprinting into his glowing arms, heart light. He held me lovingly against his warm torso. I could hear my heart pounding loudly in relief at this act of complete forgiveness.

   His arms let me go, and his right hand gently grazed my cheek, leading my lips up to his. I closed my eyes and took in the beauty of this moment – all the forgiveness and joy and love! That was when the anguish stabbing into my stomach nearly made me scream.

   I shot my eyes open and broke our kiss, trying to choke back sounds of pain so they wouldn’t escape my gaping jaw as I slowly let my gaze travel downward to where the sharp ache had formed. Blood tailed down from and around a wound in my stomach, where only the handle of a dagger was visible.

   I placed my trembling hand next to it as dizziness began to cloud my brain and take over every part of me. Then, I collapsed, holding myself on my knees with my free hand. I could taste my own blood in the back of my throat as the rain fell heavy and lightning and thunder began to crack.

   I looked up, hesitantly, back to the beautiful, bright soul, holding back another scream s I saw how he had changed.

   The clothes had been switched to sold, black denim jeans and a black t-shirt beneath a leather jacket. His emerald eyes were an intimidating bright red, staring at me no longer encased behind glasses with a dull expression; a look of sorrowful vengeance and sad satisfaction. The radiant, white angel wings had been switched out to ugly, tattered black feathers highlighted with mahogany. On his face, his perfect skin was scarred and a small trail of blood fell from the corner of his mouth like a vampire in a movie. The palms of his hands were wet and dripping with thick, black blood. This wasn’t the boy I’d fallen for. This was the Marcel who had nearly assassinated anybody who had stood in his way. This was the Marcel full of anger and rage. And, now, since I had been the last one to hurt him, this was the dangerous Marcel trying to hurt me back. Willpower failed me and I let out a scream as I fought to hold myself up the best I could against the blinding pain and the terror as I faced the angel of death standing before me.