Reclamation of an Angel
(swiped from Hina)
The wash of car lights broke through the barrier of night before her with every turn her wheels made. In her desperation, she had forgotten one of the most basic rules: 'Don't drink and then drive..' Still, there she was, behind the wheel of her SUV and driving down the empty road hardly paying attention to her speed. The music was low, quiet enough not to cause disturbance or for her to even hear it clearly at times. She was slightly wide-eyed, but the lull of whiskey was still very obvious to any passerby.
What a beautiful evening to be abound in the fair city of Rhydin. There were couples out walking and consorting, even a few were consummating if you looked down the right alley. Spurs cast their twinkling music with his steps down the empty boulevard in search of another flower. Oh this last had tasted exquisite, much to her friends horror. They were a fun group, if a tad on the narrow-minded side. And really, stakes and crosses? So clich?. A low laugh rippled from him as musical stride started him across the road.
Lights over took the single figure crossing the road. Hina's eyes went agape and she drew in a sharpened breath. With no time to stop, nor time to veer to the side, she did the last thing left in her mind... Over correct. The SUV did what it usually is known for at this point. In the speed that she was going the black box flipped. Like a can it crunched and crinkled, shaped and ripped like it was nothing. The body within bounced and bobbed, shook and raddled until finally the car came to a stop upside down. Inside was Hina, crumpled in a ball at the roof. Golden bits of blood running along her forehead and over her body in various places. Glass surrounded her and twisted metal encased her. There was nothing much more to say beyond that point besides, Hina was out cold thanks to a knock to the head.
Well that was exciting! Crimsons watched the flipping construct with much awe and then amusement. Stupid humans and their need to be more than they are. So cute. Sidling up to the twisted heap, a pale hand scraped over the outer shell, casting ripples through the metal like a hot torch through butter. What was that smell? Something familiar, something...comforting addressed his senses. "Put your Viking helmet on, spread the mayonnaise on the lawn, hidey-ho it's weasel stomping day..." Limbs bent as the singer of songs looked through a window and froze. Well now, wasn't this a pleasant surprise. His angel in need of a rescuer, and low there he came. It seems some power in the beyond had taken a liking to him.
Bleary eyes slowly began to open, and her fingers began to twitch. Still she lay there, unable to comprehend. The song of the singer was perceived as the radio and so she tried to focus on it with no luck in the slightest. One of her legs attempted shifting only to force a scream from the Angel's lips. It was broken, that was obvious. She lay her head back, fighting off the sudden pulses of pain surging through her. If this was to be the way she died, so be it. It seemed as though Hina was on the verge of giving up, completely.
A curious hand peeled the driver's door from its hinges like so much paper. "My best friend gave me the best advice. He said each's a day and not a given right. Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind. And try to take the path less traveled by. That first step you take is the longest stride." Arms reached in to pull her free with a soft smile. "If today was your last day...and tomorrow was too late, could you say goodbye to yesterday?"
Those arms were hardly noticed as she was pulled free. All she could notice at this point was the warmth that closed around her and the numbness that followed. Still, she wasn't tired, she felt her eyes showing their defiance to the call of sleep. His dark features were looked upon as if she had seen stranger. He was not remembered or perhaps, she would have screamed. Yet, something in her body remembered the Singer of Songs and welcomed him. That bond he had left so long ago drove her now, letting her give trust to him that her conscious mind wouldn't have. If only she had remembered, she perhaps would have found the strength to fight back. If only... is not now, no, right now he was her hero.
"Would you live each moment like your last, leave old pictures in the past, donate every dime you have? If today was your last day..." He held her aloft with infinite care and began to turn away. His work a never ending task it would seem. "Against the grain should be a way of life. What's worth the price is always worth the fight. Every second counts, cause there's no second try. So live like you'll never live it twice. Never take the free ride on your own life. If today was your last day..."
Blue eyes were locked on him for the longest of times, taking in the singing with a lingering curiosity. She began to be aware of the fact that the nagging pulses of pain had all but gone numb. Her hand merely lifted, fingers moved to coil about that crimson vest. She clung to him as if her life was clinging to him. Within this man's song and embrace she felt as though he wouldn't let her life end. This time there were no nagging voices, no brooding shadows telling her to wake up, only a soft lull of a song... Ashes... Ashes... We all fall down. But instead of taunting, the voices would gradually let her drift into a sleepless daze.
"Would you make your mark, on mending a broken heart? You know it's never too late. To shoot for the stars, regardless of who you are. So do whatever it takes, cauze you can't rewind a moment in this life. Let nothing stand in your way, cause the hands of time are never on your side. If today was your last day, and tomorrow was too late, could you say good bye to yesterday?" He hooked a manhole lid with the toe of his boot and flipped it open before descending the Angel into darkness. "Let nothin? stand in your way cause the hands of time are never on your side."
