It’s almost dark in a Los Angeles city street. Street lights are on leaving wide, bright searchlight pools on the sidewalk. There’s a man running down the street. He is sweating. This man looks over his shoulder briefly. Who-ever-is-chasing-him must be bent on this; as the man looks like he had been running for quite a while. His breathing is fast.
Who is chasing this man?
Far behind him is Dean Dexter.
The man’s heart is racing: thump la dump da dup.
“Somebody HELP!” The man screams. But to his dismay there isn’t a soul out there to help.
He takes a small flip phone from his pocket, that had folded paper hanging lose from the flip-phone’s corner.
“Doyle.” The man reads aloud what is below the phone number.
The man had never thought he would come across a name like this.
“I…Don’t know…” The man reads the name below the phone number. “Who..this..Doyle figure is but he’s gotta help me!...And he…needs to…know!”
Dean is catching up.
“213-555-6189…” He ran into a closed, unlocked store. The man presses ‘call’ and puts the phone to his ear. “Please answer.”
The scene transitions to Doyle’s hand feeling around on the desk for his ringing phone.
Ring ring ring.
Doyle grabs the phone from the desk and puts it to his ear.
“Give a good reason ta call me at night.” Doyle sounds tired.
“Are you Doyle?” The man on the other end asks.
“Uh…” Doyle combs through his hair. “Yes.”
“I’m really, really scared.” The man on the other end said.
“Dis is really awkward for me.” Doyle said. “Now tell me why ya called me!”
The man looks through blinds.
“I’m being chased by this cold blooded freaky man.” The man said. “I…I am an Identity thief. I stole…some clothes from this man’s house. Your phone number was in the flip phone..”
Doyle groans, feeling tired enough he wanted to fall back asleep.
“Sorry, I can’t help ya sleep deprived.” Doyle said. “Call Angel Investigation—“
Dean is headed his way.
“He’s coming after you.” The man said.
Doyle had already started to put the phone away from his ear.
“You got his message?”
Doyle blinks a few times.
“Who is dis?” Doyle manages to say/.
It’s been a week. Doyle thought. How can he be healed so fast?
“Franklin Hardeson Ellioet.” The Man said, and then hid behind a counter. “I’m sorry. But you have to get outta town man. He came up to me and said ‘I’m coming after your friend Doyle through his friends, you are the first.’ And made me run for an hour. Keep your friends closer and enemies far away.”
Dean throws his axe at The Man.
-B-b-beeeep.
“Did..dat…really?” Doyle contemplates it, but then puts down his phone and goes back to sleep.
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Angel - City of Fear
FanfictionDoyle didn't have much with him, even after death. If he even decided to make something else as a neat reminder of him it probably would have been gone in a night. An Irish, half-bred demon who received visions from The Powers That Be. Angel and Cor...
