. . .3 Weeks later. . .
. . . At 4:34 PM (Same day). . .
“Chai-Ong!” Floyd yells. “Don’t do it.”
Floyd’s voice echoes down the hall. The words that a child could have fallen down to, bright, dust falling from the air, hearing people running down towards him, and that he made the mess happen, and that he avenged his family. Floyd had not come into the picture when the mess was being made. This wasn’t an ordinary case for them as partners.
“I’m coming.” Chai-Ong said; holding his gun up at Andrew. “Wait for me.”
Chai-Ong had not thought today may ever happen. Today had felt like it may never, ever happen
Andrew growls.
To think it started as . . . just an ordinary day.
. . . At 9:49 AM (Same day). . .
. . . Outside the airport. . .
Detective Kate Lockley got into the Chinese police car. She closes the door right after entering. She buckles herself up then put her luggage on the seat right by her. She didn’t really want to be the one who looked to see who the detectives were driving her; besides, that wouldn’t end up pretty. . . right? She might be losing her mind from that long air trip and a snoring neighbor.
“Hello,” Floyd said, his head turned to Kate’s direction. “Welcome ta China!”
Kate’s face becomes whiter than a pillow case.
“Do-Doyle?” Kate stutters.
Floyd rolls his right eye.
“I’m not Doyle.” Floyd said, turning his head away from her. “We may look alike; but tere’s a clear difference between him and me.”
“You. . . You look—almost—but so alike.” Kate is struggling to understand this unnormal thing. It’s not quite normal to see someone who resembles a person who’s in Los Angelse. “What is the difference?”
“I’m in dah force,” Floyd said, as though it was a fact. “He’s not in dah force.”
“Doyle who?” Chia-Ong asks, driving away from the airport.
Chia-Ong honks at a hooded young man who shrugs and goes on.
“Allen Francis Doyle.” Floyd said. “ Chai-Ong, ya know dah counterpart I told ya about tree weeks ago?”
Chia-Ong nods.
“Well, dat’s him.” Floyd said.
Chia-Ong has an eureka moment.
“Ooooooh him.” Davies said. “Hey, isn’t that similar to your name, with the initials and all. . “
“We are different,” Floyd sticks to his thought on it. Floyd punches Chia-Ong’s shoulder. “Stop it; Davies.”
Davies? It suddenly began to occur to Kate that this was an apparently opposite version of Angel Investigations. She only knew about Angel Investigations because Doyle had to tell her that too. Maybe she should have taken Doyle’s warning for what it was before going into the airport several hours ago. . .Something about a vision that involved dust, hearing ‘Detective Kate!’, something big landing on the street, and terrified screams. It was Doyle’s most ‘vague’ vision that he ever had.
“Davies?” Kate recalls the bloody murder scene of Doyle’s friend Davies.
Chia-Ong laughs, driving away from the airport.
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Angel - City of Fear
FanfikceDoyle 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...
