Israfel's Fall
folder
Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,011
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,011
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Cold. He always seemed to be cold lately. He was soaked through to the skin and what little he had in the way of clothing was wet as well. He shivered slightly and curled into a tighter ball in the doorway of a small house. It didn’t offer any protection from the cold but at least he was out of the wind. It was late and he didn’t want to frighten whoever might be home by knocking. He had long since lost any pride that might have been ruffled in begging for shelter. He could feel some of the warmth from the house seeping underneath the door. So there was some heat to be had. In fact, he was beginning to feel much warmer.
He put his chin on his knees that were drawn up to his chest and watched the rain turn to snow. More like stinging pellets of ice than snow really, he thought. He’d be frozen to the ground by morning if it kept this up. He sighed heavily and immediately regretted it as it sent shocks of pain coursing through his bruised sides and back. Almost as an afterthought he checked his left arm. Blood was still oozing sluggishly from the cut there but it seemed to be slowing somewhat. He had been lucky to get away from the mob that had been trying to beat him to death. At least nothing was broken that he could feel. Just bruised beyond belief he thought as he noted the mottled purple and black coloring along his arm and side.
He supposed he should get up and move around a bit to at least try to keep warm. But he found he didn’t have the energy to do even that. He was tired. So incredibly tired. It felt as though he had gone for days without sleep, probably because he had. He’d caught snatches of naps here and there but hadn’t had any real sleep in quite a long time. He felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier by the moment. Thinking he’d sleep for just a little while. He was a light sleeper as a general rule and thought that he would surely wake before the inhabitants of the house stirred. He felt so much warmer now than he had earlier.
He was roused to semi consciousness by the sound of two women’s voices. One of them was much older than the other from what he could tell. He tried in vain to pull himself fully from the depths of unconsciousness. Why couldn’t he clear his head? Things were fuzzy. He couldn’t think clearly. He felt cool hands touch his face and leaned into that touch.
“Gran, he’s burning up. Go turn down the covers on the guest room bed, I’ll carry him in there.”
“Shouldn’t we just call an ambulance?”
“How would we explain to the EMTs that his blood and internal organs technically shouldn’t function?”
“Good point. Are you sure?”
“Positive. Besides, we’re pretty much stuck here until the snow plows get out and about. You know that sometimes takes as much as three days.”
“Can you lift him?”
“You know I’m much stronger than I look. He looks like he hasn’t had three square meals in years.”
He felt hands slide behind his back and under his knees. Felt himself being lifted from where he was lying. He tried to protest, tried to move, but his limbs felt too heavy to lift. He was cradled against a soft chest, his head falling to her shoulder of its own volition. Try as he might to open his eyes and look at her, they stubbornly refused to open more than a crack.
She gently set him down on the edge of the bed, holding him up with one hand as he tried to sway one way or the other.
“You need to get him out of those clothes. He’s soaked through.”
“I know, Gran. Figures. I finally get to undress a gorgeous guy for the first time in ages and he looks like he’s about sixteen. Not to mention mostly unconscious,” the younger woman said.
She managed to skin him out of his jacket in no time. When her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt he managed to summon up a bit of will and start to fight. He couldn’t let her take off the shirt, even though he was alternating between burning up and freezing. He couldn’t let her see what lay underneath it.
She took his head in both hands and his fighting ceased.
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
“Unhnnn.”
“Look, if you keep fighting me, you’re going to hurt me. You’re a lot stronger than I am. It’s okay. I know what you are. I don’t care what’s under your shirt. We’re only trying to help you. Even your body can only take so much abuse and it looks like you’ve lost a lot of blood on top of everything else,” she said, smoothing his wet hair away from his bruised face. “Let us help you.”
His eyelids cracked open slightly and even though he couldn’t focus on her properly, he got the impression of long, dark hair and very pale skin.
“Unhnnn.”
“Gran, I need the strongest glamoury spell you can muster,” she said over her shoulder to the other woman.
“Why?” the older woman asked suspiciously.
“Because, he obviously has enemies. Since his defenses are down he can’t do it properly himself. I’d do it but you’re better at that than I am and he needs all the protection he can get right now.”
Those were the last words he remembered hearing before unconsciousness claimed him.
Cold. He always seemed to be cold lately. He was soaked through to the skin and what little he had in the way of clothing was wet as well. He shivered slightly and curled into a tighter ball in the doorway of a small house. It didn’t offer any protection from the cold but at least he was out of the wind. It was late and he didn’t want to frighten whoever might be home by knocking. He had long since lost any pride that might have been ruffled in begging for shelter. He could feel some of the warmth from the house seeping underneath the door. So there was some heat to be had. In fact, he was beginning to feel much warmer.
He put his chin on his knees that were drawn up to his chest and watched the rain turn to snow. More like stinging pellets of ice than snow really, he thought. He’d be frozen to the ground by morning if it kept this up. He sighed heavily and immediately regretted it as it sent shocks of pain coursing through his bruised sides and back. Almost as an afterthought he checked his left arm. Blood was still oozing sluggishly from the cut there but it seemed to be slowing somewhat. He had been lucky to get away from the mob that had been trying to beat him to death. At least nothing was broken that he could feel. Just bruised beyond belief he thought as he noted the mottled purple and black coloring along his arm and side.
He supposed he should get up and move around a bit to at least try to keep warm. But he found he didn’t have the energy to do even that. He was tired. So incredibly tired. It felt as though he had gone for days without sleep, probably because he had. He’d caught snatches of naps here and there but hadn’t had any real sleep in quite a long time. He felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier by the moment. Thinking he’d sleep for just a little while. He was a light sleeper as a general rule and thought that he would surely wake before the inhabitants of the house stirred. He felt so much warmer now than he had earlier.
He was roused to semi consciousness by the sound of two women’s voices. One of them was much older than the other from what he could tell. He tried in vain to pull himself fully from the depths of unconsciousness. Why couldn’t he clear his head? Things were fuzzy. He couldn’t think clearly. He felt cool hands touch his face and leaned into that touch.
“Gran, he’s burning up. Go turn down the covers on the guest room bed, I’ll carry him in there.”
“Shouldn’t we just call an ambulance?”
“How would we explain to the EMTs that his blood and internal organs technically shouldn’t function?”
“Good point. Are you sure?”
“Positive. Besides, we’re pretty much stuck here until the snow plows get out and about. You know that sometimes takes as much as three days.”
“Can you lift him?”
“You know I’m much stronger than I look. He looks like he hasn’t had three square meals in years.”
He felt hands slide behind his back and under his knees. Felt himself being lifted from where he was lying. He tried to protest, tried to move, but his limbs felt too heavy to lift. He was cradled against a soft chest, his head falling to her shoulder of its own volition. Try as he might to open his eyes and look at her, they stubbornly refused to open more than a crack.
She gently set him down on the edge of the bed, holding him up with one hand as he tried to sway one way or the other.
“You need to get him out of those clothes. He’s soaked through.”
“I know, Gran. Figures. I finally get to undress a gorgeous guy for the first time in ages and he looks like he’s about sixteen. Not to mention mostly unconscious,” the younger woman said.
She managed to skin him out of his jacket in no time. When her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt he managed to summon up a bit of will and start to fight. He couldn’t let her take off the shirt, even though he was alternating between burning up and freezing. He couldn’t let her see what lay underneath it.
She took his head in both hands and his fighting ceased.
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
“Unhnnn.”
“Look, if you keep fighting me, you’re going to hurt me. You’re a lot stronger than I am. It’s okay. I know what you are. I don’t care what’s under your shirt. We’re only trying to help you. Even your body can only take so much abuse and it looks like you’ve lost a lot of blood on top of everything else,” she said, smoothing his wet hair away from his bruised face. “Let us help you.”
His eyelids cracked open slightly and even though he couldn’t focus on her properly, he got the impression of long, dark hair and very pale skin.
“Unhnnn.”
“Gran, I need the strongest glamoury spell you can muster,” she said over her shoulder to the other woman.
“Why?” the older woman asked suspiciously.
“Because, he obviously has enemies. Since his defenses are down he can’t do it properly himself. I’d do it but you’re better at that than I am and he needs all the protection he can get right now.”
Those were the last words he remembered hearing before unconsciousness claimed him.