Dead Time

Dead Time

Chapter One

As far as Kane was concerned, all his problems started when he died. He consented that this was probably an exaggeration in some ways, considering if you reach the end of your rope and rob a convenience store, you more than likely have a few problems that you’re not acknowledging.

Still, during his whole life he could never remember being truly miserable, unlike now. He had never wanted to be “angel” anyway, and what he was now…what he was becoming was so much worse.

But hey, how was he supposed to know that the clerk had a shotgun under the counter?

“Have you ever been shot by a shotgun?!” He was fond of asking in demon bars.

“It’s a horrible feeling!”

Now some people reading this will wonder…

“ Angel?! This guy gets to be an angel?”

Keep your pants on; you’ll get the whole story. Sorry if I interject in parts, but Kane’s story is one I feel rather close to, what with being his best friend and all that. For the most part, I’ll just let the story tell itself… like most good stories do, Kane’s starts with a bang.

*~*~*

BANG! See, I told you so.

Rubble fell in sheets as what had once been a demon brothel, collapsed to the ground. Normally Kane enjoyed demon brothels, but this one had some interesting fetishes; Dismembering young virgins, for one. This greatly offended Kane. It seemed only natural that he should blow the place, and all its inhabitants to bits. Kane felt it in his chest, right in the hollow of his still heart, as every demon died. Squirming uncomfortably, but refusing to acknowledge what it meant, Kane lit a cigarette and stepped out onto the street, prepared to make his slow way “home”. He smiled as he passed the rushing fire trucks going in the opposite direction.

“Honestly Kane, what did that accomplish?” He asked himself, taking a long drag and sighing in frustration as the nicotine had no effect on his dead lungs.

“Nothing, that’s what! You are wasting time, and we don’t have time to waste! Get it together!”

The people who passed him on the street pulled away, giving him strange looks. It wasn’t just because he was talking to himself either.

Kane, though he looked completely human physically, was obviously different, and it was a difference that tended to frighten. He had dark hair that curled naturally, and he made no attempt to keep it out of his face. Thin but not scrawny, tall but not lanky, and with an unspoken confidence that you could feel like a presence around him. But of all of his features, his eyes were the most frightening… black. Both pupils and irises so deeply black that it seemed as if you could fall into them, and keep falling forever.

A tight white long sleeved button down, loose fitting blue jeans, and black Doc. Martins covered most of his olive toned skin. If he was not so alarming to most women…well, he wouldn’t have to go to demon brothels, that’s for sure.

But as it was, he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts at the moment, that he did not even notice the people on the streets as they gave him such a wide berth. He paid them no mind, and tried not to pay attention to the emotions that rolled off of them like fumes. That was one thing about being what he was that Kane sometimes enjoyed… angels always know what people are feeling. The longer he stayed around humans though, the more he came to view the ability as a nuisance.

Humans felt too much, and sometimes their overwhelming emotions made him sick. He reflected later that, as he walked down the street that night the feelings and desires of the people around him were not as painfully intrusive as they used to be. Maybe he was finally getting better at blocking them out.

Tossing his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it out, Kane raised his eyes to glance at the world around him for the first time in five blocks. It was all so sharply focused, that Kane had to wonder if he wasn’t sobering up. Groaning, he looked around, desperately searching for a bar.

He found none, but down the street, he saw something that would work just as well for his purposes; the bright neon and loud thumpa-thumpa of a human nightclub. Grinning devilishly (Ironic, I know) Kane walked right past the doorman, who did not even card him. He slipped into the club, allowing the heavy industrial beat to wrap around him like an old blanket.

There was immediate relief from the dizzying range of emotions outside. In places like this, very few people were trying for deep feeling… Here you got about three emotions from everybody, and that was it! He almost considered this peaceful.

Weaving his way easily through the night owls, Kane found the bar and immediately ordered a shot. He barely felt the burn as it slid smoothly down his throat. Calling for another, Kane turned to watch all the little people in the club.

They thrashed about, undulating all over each other. Looking for something? Running from something else? The most frustrating thing of all to him was not being able to sniff out the reasons behind the anger, or the fear, or the loneliness.

It was so unexpected. He had no way to prepare for it, and no way to predict it. At first it was just a voice a few bar stools down, ordering a martini. Then he turned, and the voice got a face; a cute face. It was small pixie like but with a no-nonsense edge that matched perfectly with her tone. But it was something else that compelled him to stare… nothing. See she was there, just as solid and human as anyone else in the club. She was breathing, and after a double check, he could see the faint outline of a beating heart in her chest. And he could smell her. He could smell her shampoo, which was flowery and lovely. He could smell the detergent she used to wash her clothes. But the other scent, the scent of boiling thriving emotion that was present in every other human he had ever met, was absent. Not only that, but as he stared at her, the emotional readings he had been choking on from everyone else in the room faded until they were barely there, like a background noise that lulls you to sleep at night.

It was the most peaceful he had felt sense getting his chest blown out. It also piqued his interest. He wondered briefly if she just didn’t feel emotion. Or maybe she was a demon in disguise… though they were usually reckless, demons could be very tricksy if they needed to. Kane once knew a burrower demon who liked to… well that’s a different story.

As was usual if someone is stared at for long enough, eventually the girl noticed. Glancing up, she met Kane’s eyes briefly, before quickly looking away blushing bright red. His gaze was so frighteningly intense, even though there was nothing malicious in it. He saw the shudder that ran through her body, and felt a slight sense satisfaction that he did not understand. He had never cared very much about the affects he had on any particular human. Perhaps it was because, if he was the one causing her emotions, he stood a better chance of understanding them.

The girl sat there for almost an hour. She watched the people in the club, the same way Kane had been until she walked in. She made a valiant attempt to ignore Kane's smoldering gaze, as it didn't stray one inch from her the whole time she sat there...It was very annoying.

She did not stay all night. But then Kane hadn't really expected her to. She left, and the noise and thriving stench of feeling returned to Kane full force. Thankfully by this point he was too piss drunk to mind much. It was around four in the morning when my undead friend finally made it back to his loft. He tried to tell himself he would just forget about the girl, but he knew better. He would be back at the club the next night. It was time he found out a little more about the girl who would surely drive him crazy.

“oh, yeah,” He mumbled to himself as he fell into his bed.

“This is going to be fun.”