Chapter 2 – Chap 2

The angel stared at me a moment longer, insatiable hunger seeming to burn behind its eye. Then its gaze softened, the crease in its face disappeared, and it resumed gazing blankly around the room. The sudden shift sent chills down my spine, and I suddenly knew beyond a doubt that it was all an act.

“That thing’s a fucking monster,” I spat.

The twins looked at me in surprise.

“What do you mean?” Isaiah asked.

“Did you see what it did to that snake? That’s not a fucking angel.”

“It was protecting me,” Elijah said. “What’s so bad about that?”

I sputtered in frustration. God, they were so oblivious. It made me want to tear my hair out. “It made the snake eat its own tail then it ate the snake whole. You can’t really believe an angel would do something like that.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Elijah scoffed. “Snakes are the devil’s creature. It was a display of his dominion over Satan and his serpents.”

How did these two manage to find a religious explanation for everything? I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to beat the shit out of Elijah. However, I was wary of how the creature might react. I took a deep breath, gazing out the shed’s doorway and attempting to calm myself. I noted that the sun hung just above the horizon, and the sky was bathed in purple hues.

“The sun’s getting low. We’ll have to head home soon.” I pointed to the angel. “What do you suppose we do with that while we’re gone? We can’t take it home with us.”

“Not it,” Isaiah reprimanded. “Him.”

I sighed. “What do you suppose we do with him then?”

“Why not just leave him here?” Isaiah said.

“He should be safe here,” Elijah added. “Besides, I doubt there’s anything that can really hurt him.”

I stared at the twins in bewilderment. Did they really think I was worried about that thing’s safety? They were denser than I’d previously thought. Biting back an insult, I calmed myself and considered my response. It’s not as if we could take the angel with us. And, despite my misgivings, I doubted there was anything I could do to restrain or hurt it. I glanced at the lanky thing. Besides, it seemed content to just sit on the floor and gaze around stupidly. Maybe leaving it in the shed was the best option.

“Fine,” I said. “We’ll leave him here. But we should check on him first thing in the morning.”

They both nodded in agreement and we left the shed. As I exited its shadowy interior, I could feel the angel’s eyes penetrating my back. The sensation sent chills down my spine. Regardless of the twins’ claims, I didn’t trust the creature. It may have healed Elijah, but I sensed that its act of kindness was merely a way to draw us in, a lure to trick us into believing it bore no ill intent.

The three of us made our way through the forest, exiting the dense foliage and coming out onto the cul-de-sac at the end of our street. Our homes were at the entrance to the neighborhood, and we strolled down the sidewalk in silence, each of us lost in thought about the creature we’d just encountered. The twins still seemed shaken by some sort of religious fervor, and I cast an annoyed glance in their direction.

Just as I did so, my attention was caught by movement in front of us. I turned my head to see a boy stepping onto the sidewalk and blocking our path.

“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath.

“Not Zayne again,” Isaiah groaned.

I gritted my teeth, annoyed at our sudden turn of bad luck. Zayne lived a few houses down and went to the same school as us. Given his close proximity, he would have made a good friend. However, there was the problem of him being a complete and utter asshole.

“What’s up queers?” Zayne said as he stepped forward to meet us.

“Sup Zayne,” I said with a nod, attempting to step past him. I was cut short as he stuck out an arm to block me.

“I don’t recall saying you could go.”

“Come on,” Elijah said. “We’re just trying to get home. The sun is going down.”

“Aw, is the little baby scared of being out in the dark?”

As Zayne spoke, I caught a whiff of beer on his breath and grimaced in response. That wasn’t good. He was particularly cruel after stealing a few cans of his dad’s beer. Zayne was a sadistic bully, and I’d been his primary target for years. As soon as the twins moved to town, he shifted his focus to them, but I still got caught in the crossfire on occasion.

“Just let us go home,” I said, attempting to sound resolute. I was tall for my age, but Zayne was taller still. To make things worse, he was broad and muscular. The kid probably would have made a good athlete if he could behave long enough to avoid getting kicked off a team.

“Fuck off.” He shoved me aside, and I stumbled out into the street. While I tried to regain my balance, he rushed forward and grabbed Isaiah by the collar. Without a moment’s hesitation, he hooked his leg behind the boy’s and sent him tumbling to the ground.

“What are you do-” Isaiah’s question ended in a heavy grunt as Zayne dropped down and placed a knee on his stomach. He twisted his knee back and forth, causing the twin to gasp in pain as the air was pushed from his lungs.

“Your parents came to our house again asking to talk about God. You freaks are getting really annoying, and I’m sick of your family’s religious bullshit.” Zayne pressed down even harder as he spoke.

Elijah moved to shove Zayne off, but the larger boy dealt a swift punch to his stomach as he approached, causing him to double over and gasp in pain.

“This is between me and the bitch,” he snarled.

I stepped forward and tried to compromise. “Look, their parent’s religious complex is annoying, but it’s not their fault. They can’t control what their parents do.” I moved closer, careful to keep out of Zayne’s range. He’d caught Elijah in the stomach, but I had no doubt that his next blow would be headed for my groin if I got too close. “Just let him go home.”

Zayne laughed and shook his head. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’ll let him go as soon as he admits that God isn’t real.”

Isaiah sputtered in response to the increasing pressure, and his eyes bulged. Despite his helpless state, he shook his head at Zayne’s demand. “No,” he gasped through gritted teeth.

Zayne leaned down, and Isaiah winced at his rancid breath. “What’s that? I couldn’t hear you.” He dug his knee even harder into the boy’s abdomen, and I suddenly worried that his ribs would break. “Say that again.”

“No,” Isaiah repeated. Then he spat in Zayne’s face. The spit landed directly in his eye, and the bigger boy flinched back, cursing as he wiped it away.

“You piece of shit!” He raised a fist and brought it down hard on the bridge of Isaiah’s nose. Then he pulled back and did it again, and again, and again. I watched in horror as Isaiah’s head bounced on the concrete with each subsequent blow. Zayne was going to kill him.

Frantic to stop the vicious assault, I scanned the ground for a weapon. I could punch Zayne, but he was a sturdy boy, and I was more liable to break my hand than actually stop him. I spotted a discarded bottle nestled against the curb and grabbed it. Without bothering to think, I lurched forward and swung it against Zayne’s head. It struck him with a loud crack followed by the sound of tinkling glass as the bottle shattered and crumbled to the ground. Zayne clutched at his head and fell sideways, freeing Isaiah from his weight.

“Come on,” I said, helping Isaiah to his feet. Elijah joined me and we quickly turned to sprint back to our homes. I spared a glance over my shoulder to see Zayne lying on the ground as he writhed and spat a string of curses that would’ve made the twins’ parents faint.

At least he was alive. I’d been so worried about Isaiah, that I hadn’t considered that the blow might kill Zayne. However, my relief was halfhearted, as it would have been convenient to have Zayne out of my life.

I gritted my teeth, silently berating myself for thinking such a terrible thing.

We rushed home with Isaiah supported between us. He was still conscious and even managed to walk a little, but his nose looked bad and his face was covered in blood. Their parents were going to throw a fit.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I dropped the twins off at their house and said goodbye. They rushed inside to treat Isaiah’s wounds, and I walked the short distance to my door, glancing over my shoulder at intervals to ensure that Zayne hadn’t followed us. Seeing no one, I went inside and laid in bed.

Thoughts of our encounter with Zayne played on a loop in my head. What if he lied and said I attacked him? The thought filled me with dread, but the sensation was slowly overwhelmed as I thought back on the creature we’d found. The twins had insisted that it was an angel, claiming that they looked different from our modern conception. Curious about their claim, I retrieved my laptop from beneath the bed.

“What did angels actually look like,” I googled. Numerous results popped up, and I clicked on the first one, a discussion board in which someone had asked about the biblical description of angels. The top response was a quote from chapter one of Ezekiel.

“In appearance their form was human, but each of them had four faces and four wings. Their legs were straight; their feet were like those of a calf and gleamed like burnished bronze. Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands… Their faces looked like this: Each of the four had the face of a human being, and on the right side each had the face of a lion, and on the left the face of an ox; each also had the face of an eagle.”

I read the description with intense curiosity. While it didn’t exactly describe the creature we’d encountered, it contrasted sharply with how I imagined angels. Upon reading the passage, I began to consider that maybe the thing really was an angel. It healed Elijah, and it seemed unlikely that an evil creature would have such an ability. Perhaps Raphael was the real deal after all.

My room grew dark as the sun dipped below the horizon, and I suddenly realized how tired I felt. Exhausted by the day’s events, I laid down and closed my eyes, musing on the angel’s existence. If the angel was real, then did that mean that God was real too? In that case, would I go to hell if I didn’t believe in God? I shook my head and attempted to shove the thoughts away. There was plenty of time to question the nature of religion and existence. For now, I needed to focus on learning what I could about the angel.

As I drifted off to sleep, my mind cleared of all coherent thoughts, and I noticed a strange buzzing sensation within my skull. It was like radio static playing faintly in the back of my mind. The unusual sensation concerned me, and I wondered at its source, but fatigue soon overwhelmed me, and I fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke the next morning having forgotten entirely about the buzzing sensation and went about my day. I scarfed down my breakfast and rushed outside to retrieve the twins. Isaiah had too black eyes and a swollen nose, but it fortunately hadn’t been broken. I urged him to stay home and rest, but he was too excited at the prospect of seeing Raphael again and insisted on coming.

We made our way into the forest and came upon the shed a few minutes later. As I approached the dilapidated structure, a sense of foreboding came over me. What if Raphael had left? What if he was no longer placid like before? I considered that the angel had merely been stunned from its fall and would now act differently.

My worries fled as I entered the shed to find him sitting placidly in the corner, exactly where we’d left him the day before. Some debris was moved about, so I gathered that he’d investigated his surroundings, but he hadn’t run off.

Before I could say anything, Isaiah rushed forward and stood before the angel. He gestured to his facing, attempting to bring Raphael’s attention to his wounds. His single eye focused on the boy, but he seemed unaffected by the state of his face.

Elijah stepped forward and clasped his hands as if in prayer. “Raphael,” he said, “beloved archangel, protector of the lame and injured, I beseech you to heal my brother’s wounds.”

I resisted the urge to chuckle at the formality of his request.

Raphael glanced at Elijah then back to his brother, but he made no move to heal the boy’s face. Instead, he simply sat there, staring blankly at the two of them. He didn’t seem to understand what they were asking.

We spent the next hour attempting to coax the angel into healing Isaiah’s wounds, but he didn’t respond to our request. At one point, he stood up, and we thought that it might finally do as we asked. However, it merely loped about the shed and observed the myriad collection of wood, metal, and rusted tools that littered the floor.

Eventually, we gave up on attempting to heal Isaiah and began trying to communicate with the angel. He seemed to hear us, as he occasionally cocked his head or turned in our direction when we spoke, but Raphael gave no indication that he understood what we said. We resorted to simple gestures and tried asking him to pick up various objects by mimicking what we wanted him to do. He would occasionally move to stand beside us and watch curiously as we motioned, but he never did what we wanted.

This pattern continued for the rest of the day, and we made no progress in communicating with Raphael. As the sun grew low in the sky, we returned home, vowing to come back and work on communicating with him.

Several days passed in this manner, and the angel remained utterly tranquil. We never managed to communicate with Raphael with any complexity, but he began buzzing in response to our words. I sensed that he knew we were trying to communicate but couldn’t respond in a way that was intelligible to us. While he would often follow us if we gestured for him to do so, he never mimicked our other actions.

Occasionally, he would leave the shed and wander through the forest, but he never strayed far. He seemed intrigued by the objects he found in nature, and he often toyed with fallen leaves or branches. We watched in awe as he picked up a branch as tall as me and half as thick. I would have struggled to pick it up even with two hands, but the angel wrapped one slender hand around it and lifted it with ease.

As the days went on, I began to notice the buzzing sensation within my skull more often. It became an almost constant sound, even during the day. It wasn’t distracting, seeming more like the subtle background noise than anything. However, it made me worry. I grew concerned that there was something wrong with me, possibly a brain tumor or damaged hearing.

One day, I knocked on the twins’ door only to find they weren’t home. I cursed, remembering that they would be gone all day. Their parents were dragging them to some religious convention, and I’d completely forgotten about it.

Annoyed, I decided to visit Raphael on my own. This was my first time seeing him without the others present, and slight fear nagged at me. Despite his seemingly simple nature, some part of me still worried that he was dangerous. I simply couldn’t forget the way he’d stared at me after eating the snake. Just the thought of it sent shivers down my spine.

I entered the shed to find it entirely empty. Concerned, I wandered around the building until I found Raphael standing behind it. His head just cleared the roof’s edge, and he stared curiously into the gutter. As I approached, I realized what had caught his attention.

Scraps of straw and grass protruded from the gutter, and the sound of chirping birds came from within. Raphael seemed entranced by the baby birds in the nest, and he cocked his head back and forth as he observed them.

A grin spread across my face as I watched him. He seemed confused by the birds, as if unable to comprehend the existence of something so small yet so loud. He slowly raised his arm and grasped one of the birds, lifting it from the nest. I was concerned he might hurt it but resisted the urge to stop him. It’s wasn’t as if he would understand anyway.

He held the bird gently in front of his face, one great eye staring down in curiosity. It was almost cute watching him interact with the chirping creature. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurd disparity in size between them.

My chuckle was cut short as Raphael’s face split, once again revealing a gaping, toothless mouth. Silently, he tossed the hatchling into his waiting jaws. The creature floundered and chirped madly, but the sound was cut short as it was swallowed whole.

I watched in horror, my blood suddenly running cold and my mind going numb. Raphael grabbed another bird and ate it without a moment’s hesitation. As he swallowed, the air around me vibrated with what I’d come to know as the angel’s utterance of satisfaction. Slowly, he raised a slender arm and reached for a third hatchling.

Spurred to action, I rushed forward and grabbed Raphael’s arm.

“No!” I shouted. “You can’t do that.”

It whirled to face me and slowly tried to tug its arm away. I kept my grip, using all of my strength to restrain the creature. Enraged, it jerked its arm, throwing me to the ground as the air vibrated with a deafening, ferocious buzz. I laid on in the grass and watched with bated breath as it turned back toward the nest and grasped another bird. Having forgotten about me entirely, it popped the bird into the mouth and buzzed contentedly as it swallowed.

My flesh squirmed at the sight, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. Raphael was intent on eating the birds, and I was far too weak to prevent it from doing so. Terrified, I scrambled to my feet and rushed from the cabin, panting hard as my frantic sprint carried me home.

I retreated to my room and scrambled into bed, cowering beneath the covers as if they could protect me from what I’d just witnessed. My thoughts whirled as I thought back on what Raphael had done. I tried to think logically, to console myself by considering that he was simply eating. We eat animals all the time. There’s nothing wrong with that.

However, those thoughts did little to comfort me. Over the past several days, we’d brought food to Raphael numerous times, but he never touched it. No matter what we offered – granola bars, cereal, leftover hamburgers – he showed no interest in it. As a result, we assumed that he didn’t truly need to eat.

Then why had he eaten those birds? Would he only eat raw meat and living creatures? Even if that was the case, it was still unnerving. That would make him a predator, a carnivore who would just as easily eat me if given the chance.

With those thoughts tearing through my mind, I once again became certain that Raphael was dangerous. I’d become too comfortable around him, too accustomed to his wretched form. As I cowered in bed, I vowed to tell the twins of what I saw. Surely they would see my point then. I had to convince them that Raphael was a monster.