Young Writers Society

Chapter 3

At first he wasn’t quite sure what to do. With the demon gone, it grew dark again, the only light coming from the angel. But it was a different sort of light, one that didn’t glow outward. Instead, it seemed to glow from within. Instead of seeing the dirt and sewage that was leaking, all he saw was her. She was beautiful.

But he couldn’t touch her.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he stayed down with her, but by the time he finally moved, his joints felt stiff. But he didn’t feel tired; not now. He leaned over the angel, careful not to touch her.

“Can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, and for second he could swear that she was awake, that she was looking at him. But a moment later, her eyes were closed. She whimpered, balling up her fists.

He stepped away from her.

It was then that he realized how early it was and how brightly his watched glowed. 6:45. He had to go to work. His eyes washed over for the angel for a moment before he sighed. She was so beautiful. He considered telling her that he would be back soon, but he decided not to. Besides, she probably wouldn’t even care…

He reached out to stroke out her hair.

Suddenly, a noise startled him. A rat scuffled in the corner. He frowned and drew his hand back, only to knock over the bottle that Kashmiel had given him. He sighed, righting the bottle. “Damn rats,” he murmured. “Always skittering around, trying to scare me.” He snuck a look at the angel. She was beautiful, as always, her light hair cascading over her naked body. Her chest rose up faintly and for a brief moment, he thought he saw her smiling. He smiled back.

“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I’m not going to hurt you. You can just stay here and be with me forever. I won’t change you into one of us.” He almost touched her, but remembered what the demon said just in time. He rubbed his hands. They were cold.

He had to go.

The angel shifted from her original position so that her back lined the circle she was trapped inside. For a second, he felt a wave of guilt run through him, but then he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. After all, she was an angel.

“I’ll see you later, honest.”

And with that, he crept out from the basement.

I will make various exclamatory incoherent noises and wild hand gestures because this is so much freaking better than Wraith. I'm not going to critique this, or fishr's story (just review).

Let's recap some of the things I loved:

- the dialogue. Oh so very very amazing. It's clear, concise, and twenty shades of beautiful. I could read it again and again and frame it on my wall and probably even marry it. Twice. Dialogue is a pretty tricky aspect of writing to master, but you've captured these characters amazingly well through their speech. Their emotions, their personalities and thoughts — they shine through with incredible clarity. That's usually a Very Excellent Thing and this is no exception.

- the characters so far. Hee hee. They are so very cool. They're very distinct, and you've managed to show that by blending together their dialogue and their actions to create two pretty distinct people.

-

The demon said nothing, his hand tracing along a girl's nipple on a poster on his main door. Then he said, "She looks pretty."

Roman looked up and suddenly realized what the demon was talking about. "I share a room with –"

"She is bound to you now."

This made Roman even crankier, but he swaggered up the stairs, clutching the railing fiercely, until he tripped inside.

He was beginning to sweat; his eyes were bloodshot. He was beginning to pant and gasp again, and his hand was over his heart.

fishr wrote:

But really... he does have his faults. He can't hold the angel. Did you see him sweating once he held it?

I actually didn't notice that, mainly because I'm slightly tired so my senses are not up to par.

While that's a technical fault, yes, he's a character and correct me if I'm wrong, should ALL characters have one known, significant fault that makes them stand out all their own in a story?

For example - A temper, a phobia, escalating emotions, a mentality disorder, illness, the loss of a limb... who knows. While none of these seem to fit Kashmiel character, can you at least give him some dark secret? Hehe... Like how did he become a demon in the first place?

But really... he does have his faults. He can't hold the angel. Did you see him sweating once he held it?

fishr wrote:While I like Kashmiel, he is a perfect character. Where's the faults? Does he at least twiddle his thumbs when he's thinking? Mortal or not, he should have some type of fault.

*pats Kashmiel*

I dunno. You originaly thought Roman was sexy but.... Kashmiel here is pretty appealing himself.

As for Roman, lol, I can't help but laugh. He has a poster of a naked woman on his door and condoms all over his bed? The poor bastard, lmao. I like this version of him. He knows nothing of what he's getting into and yet is too curious and desperate.

Angel+Roman=

Back to Kashmiel, hehehe... *stares at suit* *points to him with a thumb*
Why can't all people dress like this?

While I like Kashmiel, he is a perfect character. Where's the faults? Does he at least twiddle his thumbs when he's thinking? Mortal or not, he should have some type of fault.

Hugs! Snoink, you updated! yay! and like the Campbell's soup commericals - Mmm Mmm Good. I actually tried to sleep, and couldn't so I thought I'd read. I love the emphasis you put on Roman wanting his place clean. His room actually reminded me of a friend of mines, made me chuckle. Oooo... on Kashmiel's explanation of the angel, and such.

Poor Roman...

I'll come back and re-read when I am more awake.

Ciao, CL

Chapter 2

It was painful to walk. Every step was an obstacle. His lungs felt like they had been clamped shut, and he gripped at his sides, gasping. He could barely see. But when the buzzing in his head increased, all he had to do was look back at the demon, always composed, walking right behind him.

And then look at his pocket.

In this fashion, Roman hobbled home, the demon placidly following him.

His home was an apartment, about five blocks away. It wasn’t the nicest of neighborhoods, and even at two thirty, he could still here a couple screaming at each other. He paused before he entered it, stopping at the stairs.

“It’s kind of messy.”

“I don’t care.”

Roman looked at the demon and squinted. He still felt a pounding in his head. It felt like he had a hangover, except it wasn’t. It was so bizarre… he was beginning to feel cranky. “Perhaps I should clean it?”

“Let me in.”

This made Roman even crankier, but he swaggered up the stairs, clutching the railing fiercely, until he tripped inside. “It’s not clean,” he said. His head was beginning to pound. He could barely see anything, let alone stand up. He gasped and leaned on the wall.

The demon followed him in, meekly looking around.

Roman was right – the room was messy. Clothes were strewn across the room, amidst CDs, sticky notes, and magazines. There was a guitar in the corner caked in dust and there were several rotten bananas lying around. The demon looked over the room, his face mildly interested, but said nothing. He closed the door.

“Wait a minute.” Roman’s face had turned white. Holding his head, he staggered into the bathroom. Blindly, he dumped out one, two, five pills, swallowing them at once. Then he came back to the demon looking worse than ever.

“I feel terrible.”

The demon said nothing, his hand tracing along a girl’s nipple on a poster on his main door. Then he said, “She looks pretty.”

Roman looked up and suddenly realized what the demon was talking about. “I share a room with –“

“No one. You’re a loner. You are handsome, but not attractive. You expect perfection in your friends, lovers, coworkers, and family, but since nobody is perfect, you are continually disappointed. You have isolated yourself from everyone you have ever loved. You are alone.”

Roman scowled. “And what’s this got to do with anything?”

“Do you have any space in this room?”

“The bed’s clear.” The demon looked at the bed with disdain. It was clear, one of the clearer spots in the room, but dirty socks and condoms still covered it. The demon immediately patted his pocket and shook his head.

“I am sorry for wasting your time, sir. Perhaps, when you learn what a washer is…”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Roman’s voice was rising into a panic. “You can’t leave, not now. You’re not going to give it to me?”

“Apparently not. You wouldn’t know how to take care of it.”

“No! You can’t leave, not now! Please, please, I’ll do anything! I need it.” The demon’s lip twitched.

“Obviously not enough.”

“But I need it!”

“Do you even know what it is?” Roman stopped. His hair was greasy from him rubbing his head too much. He was beginning to sweat; his eyes were bloodshot. He was beginning to pant and gasp again, and his hand was over his heart. He doubled over, but shook his head.

“It is something that needs space. A lot of space. But private.”

“Someplace clean?”

“Not necessarily.”

Roman looked up hopefully. “I know of place. It’s a little place, just a basement really. It has rats…” he shuddered involuntarily. “But it’s better than nothing. I can take care of it. I can do anything. It’s underneath this floor. Nobody else knows about it, and even if they did, they can’t go to it.” He was about to say more, but he choked and began coughing. Then he fell to the floor, still gasping.

The demon regarded him carefully. He took out another paper in his pocket and unfolded it carefully. He read the contents and then stuffed it back in. “Roman?”

Roman looked at him blearily. “Yes?”

“I’ve changed my mind. You can have it. Let’s go.”

Roman nodded quickly. “Just wait a minute.” He hurried back into the bathroom and downed a couple more pills before coming back. Then they went down into the basement together.

Roman was right. The basement was full of little rats darting around. It was partially collapsed, so they had to duck more than a couple of times to get through. Besides that, there was a sewage leak. Still, the demon looked around and smiled.

“Lovely place.”

Roman shivered as he heard a chittering sound. “May I have it?”

The demon suddenly looked at him. “Draw a circle.”

“A circle?”

“Yes, a circle in the ground. Don’t make it too small.”

Roman looked scared, but he sat on the ground and with his finger, he made a little circle in the dust. The demon seemed even more pleased with the circle. He laughed harshly. “Oh, that will do, that will do quite nicely!” Roman smiled uncertainly.

“May I have it now?”

“Yes, yes. Here.” The smile disappeared, and once more the demon reached for the handkerchief, taking out the glowing little bag. Roman stepped closer, his face illuminated by the soft glow. “Take it.”

It was barely a whisper, but it was enough. Roman’s headache had disappeared and never before had he felt so wonderful. With trembling hands, he took it and slowly began to undo the cords.

“Put it in the circle.”

Roman did as he was commanded, and dumped the little bag into the circle. There was a hiss and then a fizzle. The dirt seemed to melt away, and a liquid was there, almost as if it was there to purify. It seeped everywhere, and it looked like it would spread across the entire room and engulf them both (or at least Roman hoped) but it stopped within the circle. It fizzed and sputtered more. And then something strange happened… the liquid began climbing onto itself in an ever faster rate until finally – finally – it began to form something. The form was at first strange, but then, slowly, it turned into something which Roman recognized at once.

It was an angel.

It wasn’t a human. Though it had human features (the long slender arms and legs, the flowing hair, the arched neck) there was something about it which was alien. Roman couldn’t understand it, but he wanted it all the same. He reached towards her.

“Don’t touch her.” It was Kashmiel.

Roman turned around, surprised. “Why not? She doesn’t look to dangerous, not now anyway.”

“If you touch her, she will kill you. Don’t touch her.”

“Why would she kill me?”

“To get back to heaven. To sacrifice you to him. The slave master of all the humans.” The demon laughed, though it wasn’t nice one. Then he turned to Roman. “She is not human, you know. She is very dangerous still.”

The angel was trembling violently. Her eyes were closed tightly, and her hands were curled into little fists. She was whimpering, and her fists moved just slightly, so it looked like she was pounding the earth.

Roman couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“She’s so beautiful,” he whispered. The demon nodded slightly, though he seemed bored.

“She will need you to take care of her.”

“But how? If I can’t touch her…”

“She’ll only kill you if you want her to kill you. Only then. Here, I have something for you.” The demon rummaged through his pockets again and brought out a small bottle. “It’s for the angel. You should give her some every couple of hours.”

Roman took the bottle and looked dubiously at it. “What is it?”

“Something she needs for this world. It’ll help her become mortal.” Suddenly, Roman’s face snapped to his.

“No.”

“What?”

“No. She’s not going to be mortal. I like her this way. She’s beautiful.”

Kashmiel’s eyes narrowed. Then, very slowly, he said, “Do you know what an angel is?”

“No, but I do know one thing and that’s… “

“An angel is a human transformation of a soul. They have no bodies, they just look like they have bodies. If you put your hand on her, you could put your whole hand through her. And then she would consume you.”

“That’s besides the point!”

Kashmiel glowered at the man. “How long do you think an angel lasts on this mortal world, Roman?”

An uncomfortable pause.

“She will die if you don’t make her mortal. And by dying, I mean she will disappear. The divine slave master does not care for his fallen angels. She will be wiped away from all existence.” Roman stared at him and then the angel. He began wringing his hands.

“I can’t do this! You can’t make me do this…”

Kashmiel interrupted him, “She is bound to you now. You must give her a tablespoon every couple of hours until the bottle is empty. She will remain confined to the circle until she is mortal.”

“But…“ Roman’s voice was starting to panic.

“Goodbye, Roman.” The demon walked away.

*hits smaur on the head with a sledgehammer*

I ment that the sentences would be difinitive and decisive if it weren't for the following "it had to be", "they had to be."

Okay, here we go. I'm not going to crit this, because I'm horrifically biased on all things Wraith-related. (Plus — dood. Fanfic for my story. Too flattered to critique.) So I'm just going to ramble on and on about how awesome this is until someone hits me over the head with a sledgehammer.

*rolls up sleeves*

And even Roman couldn’t deny that the demon was attractive.

Kashmiel stared at Roman’s face. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Give it to me.”

“Do you really want it?”

“Yes.”

Carefully, tenderly, he smoothed it out.

Éloeré wrote:Smaur probably has a better idea about exactly what's going on

This is good for your age, write more.

What the...?

Why did spellcheck say it was right? What the hell was I spelling?

*grumbles about how stupid Word is*

Er... Jiggy, can you explain your complaint about those two sentences again? If they're definitive and decisive, then what's the problem?

I like the word stare... *whimpers*

But you're right about the needed description. It did feel a bit lacking when I was writing it... I'll fix it up soon.

And fishr>> awesome! It should be interesting to see what you get. I mean, smaur is an agnostic (or atheist?), you're a not-too-regular churchgoer, and I am a fairly regular churchgoer, so it should be awesome to see our different perspectives on angels and demons. I'm sure smaur would be tickled pink.

And I didn't make him sound handsome... yet. It's not necessary... yet.

I'm surprised Snoink didn't make her Roman drop dead gorgeous since she loves him, lol. This has inspired me to write my own version of Smaur's Wraith, since she decidedly neglected some details, . LOL. I'm not sure when I'll get around to writing it but you'll both see my version. ;D

By the way Snoink, this was very well written. Your Roman seems a little desperate, kinda like a moth attracted to a gleam of white lights. I uh... *scratches head* Have nothing really to critique. Oh well, good job anyway.

And Smaur, get ready for my version. Or in other words, get ready to see what my imagination cooks up.

I liked this short yet interesting piece. There were only a couple of things which I noticed:

silohette

The demon. It had to be.

Rats, they had to be

Smaur probably has a better idea about exactly what's going on ... but I shall of course do what I can. Knowing nothing of the reasons for the orange light to be flickering ... I still like it! Yay! Light doing weird things is just so fun to play with. And I love how it's in the last sentence with it coming back on!

I don't have nearly as much grammar expertise as either you or Smaur, so I don't know what I can do on that count ... plus I can't spot anything wrong. We shall see how we go.

The alley. He shivered and looked around. It was a small place, really.

It was a small bag really, about the size of a fist, and drawn tight with a string. It had a strange glow to it. At first, Roman thought it glowed blue, but then it turned purple, to a deep crimson, to green.

Kashmiel stared at Roman’s face.

!!!

You already know how much I freaking adore this, but when it's not 1:30(ish) in the morning, I'll try and write a coherently incoherent rambling review of why exactly I love Kashmiel (ah, his real name is so much plainer) and your Roman and the orange flickering lights.