Young Writers Society

Chapter One

The final “amen” of the evening service was punctuated by a roll of thunder. A storm was coming. Prior William heaved a sigh of relief as the last of the church-goers grabbed their umbrellas and headed towards the door. They filed past him, murmuring their goodbyes as they prepared to brave the storm. When they were all gone, the old prior locked the great oak doors and sunk into one of the pews, overcome with exhaustion. I’m getting too old for this, he thought to himself. Church attendance was slumping and William had become bored with preaching to the small, unmotivated crowds that still attended. What we need is a miracle, he thought, something to inspire everyone again. Including me. Prior William had never been a very good preacher. He was the practical, down to earth kind of holy man, and this recent slump had dampened his spirits as well as those of his flock.

William stood slowly, his bones creaking loudly in the empty chapel. He went around the edge of the hall slowly working his way inward, putting out candles and checking for belongings that had been left behind. When he had finished, the chapel was dark, illuminated only by the occasional streak of lightning, casting eerie shadows through the stained glass. William sighed and headed towards the dormitory. Maybe tonight I will get some sleep he mused. Bad dreams and aching bones had been plaguing the prior’s nights. William grunted in pain as one of his knees gave a loud pop. Or not.

*****

The deer mouse could smell a storm coming. He needed to get back to his nest before it hit, but curiosity was calling. There was a stranger in his forest, a large man lying in the clearing in front of his nest. He went to investigate further.

The stranger awoke to the sensation of tiny feet on his face. He slowly opened his eyes and took in the scene around him. He was lying in a bed of pine needles in a small clearing of an old pine forest. A small deer mouse crept over his face, pausing to sniff the air, then skittering to a small hole nestled at the base of an ancient pine. The stranger sat up slowly as the first drops of rain penetrated the leafy roof of the forest. On the ground next to him lay a black leather bundle. He unfolded it and discovered it was a leather jacket. The stranger stood up, pulled on the duster and looked around. The rain was beginning to fall hard enough to sting his face. On impulse he began walking west, into the falling night.

*****

Rain pelted the forest outside in huge, round drops. It was spring time in Scotland and the earth was sodden with rain. Wind buffeted the windows of the cloister. Prior William listened to the ruckus of the storm as he finished his evening prayers. He was turning down his bed when he heard someone entering the church. Who is it now, he thought bitterly as he stood and reached for his flashlight. Entering the main hall, William saw a dark figure kneeling before the altar. The candles he had put out only moments before were relit and cast strange flickering shadows over the large, kneeling man. William shinned his light on the figure to get a better look. The man had dark hair that was plastered to his head from the rain. He wore soaking wet black slacks and a long leather duster draped over his broad shoulders. William cleared his throat to get the man’s attention.

“There are no more services tonight, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come back tomorrow,” he said sternly. William was in no mood to be friendly to this intruder. The man turned his head slowly towards William, revealing a well defined face with high cheek bones.

“I’m sorry father; I didn’t mean to disturb you.” The man had a voice like honey and striking violet eyes that seem to look right through William. It was quite unnerving.

“Then what can I do for you my son?” William tried to be kind as he recovered from his drowsiness. The man slowly stood.

“This is a beautiful chapel you have here, prior,” he remarked. William stared at him, suddenly realizing just how tall he was. The Prior himself was a large and imposing man despite being nearly sixty, but the stranger stood at least six inches taller than him, making him shift his weight uncomfortably. And he didn’t remember telling the stranger that he was a Prior. He repeated his question a little more sternly.

“Yes, it is beautiful. Is there something I can do for you?”

“You look to be a pious man, prior, can I trust you with something?” Perhaps this man has a confession to make, thought William. It was not unheard of for the local criminals and drunks to come by for late night confessions. This man wouldn’t dare hurt an old prior in his own church anyway William reasoned with himself. His curiosity was getting the best of him.

“Yes, son, you can trust me.” The stranger’s face softened a bit. He suddenly looked young and confused.

“I am completely and utterly lost,” he said in an exasperated tone. William laughed, glad to relieve the tension that had been building in the room. And here he had been thinking the man was a criminal.

*****

“So let me get this straight.” Prior William was now sitting at a small wooden table in the back of the dormitory. He sat across from the stranger who was sipping tea from one of the church’s antique cups. “You woke up in the middle of the forest just outside. You have no idea what the date is, not to mention the year, and you don’t remember how you got here.”

“Correct” replied the stranger. Great, thought William, I’ve got a crazy man on my hands. What am I going to do with this guy?

“So what is the date?” asked the man innocently between bites of scone.

“March the 18th, 2006,” sighed William.

William had now been awake for thirty-six consecutive hours and he was not in the mood to baby-sit this buffoon. That is, until he noticed the guy’s ring. It was a simple silver band with a small seal on the top. It was the seal that intrigued him. It depicted a crescent moon surrounded by olive branches. It seemed familiar to William, although he could not determine why.

“May I see your ring?” asked the ageing Prior. The stranger regarded his ring as if he had never seen it before. Then a knowing light dawned upon his face and he looked up.

“My name is Gabriel. I just remembered. And yes you can,” he said confidently.

“Gabriel. A good name. It means ‘man of god’ I think,” William said as he took the ring. He began to examine it more closely. A few silent minutes ticked by.

Gabriel waited while the prior examined his ring. The old prior was being very kind to him. I must be coming across as insane, Gabriel mused. The prior had listened to his story with a concerned air and offered him food and dry clothing without questioning him at all. Gabriel felt for him. Poor man, having to listen to every nutcase and drunkard who comes in here looking for free food and a bed for the night. Gabriel regarded the old prior affectionately. He had a round face and a big frame with kind, knowing brown eyes hidden beneath bushy, silver eyebrows. He wore only his rough, home spun cassock and old leather sandals on his bare feet. A true holy man, Gabriel thought.

Gabriel’s thoughts turned inward. He was becoming uneasy. He had been telling the truth so far, just omitting a few key details. Should I trust this man? Will he help me? Suddenly Gabriel stood. There’s nothing for it, he though, I might as well tell him the truth. He was tired of lying.

“I have to go. I have imposed on your hospitality long enough.” Gabriel had decided what he needed to do. William, who had been ignoring these remarks, suddenly realized why he had recognized the ring.

“Wait.” William’s mind was reeling as he tried to think of an excuse to stall him.

“Who are you?” The prior asked, confused. This ring, thought William, carried the symbol of the archangel Gabriel, the left hand of God. Gabriel smiled at William, but inside he was torn. Telling this man the truth would put him at great risk. But on the other hand, he needed somebody’s help. Anybody’s help.

Gabriel quickly made up his mind.

“I knew there was a reason why I came here,” he stated decisively. “You are supposed to help me. I have to show you something. Are you alone?”

“Yes,” replied William tentatively. This didn’t sound good.

“Please do not be afraid,” said Gabriel, “I’m not going to hurt you.” With that he removed his leather duster in one graceful movement. He wore no shirt underneath it and had a few strange scars on his tanned and finely chiseled body. But that was not why the prior gasped and recoiled in fear, crossing himself and dropping to his knees as he took in the sight before him.

Gabriel stretched his wings in relief. They had been stuffed under his duster all evening. The great wings nearly filled the small dormitory and seemed to suck all the light in the room towards them. They stretched away from his body nearly six feet on either side. They were the color of a stormy sky.

“Please do not be afraid,” Gabriel repeated. “All I have told you so far is true. Only, I‘m an angel. Or I used to be. I think I have been banished” Gabriel regarded his wings in surprise. “Odd,” he thought aloud, “my wings have changed colors. They used to be white.”

William was beginning to recover from his initial shock. He ran a sweaty hand through his thinning silver hair. This cannot be, he thought, terrified. He knew lack of sleep could cause hallucinations, but nothing like this. Then reason started to take hold again. I must trust in God’s plans, William contemplated as he got to his feet. If I am supposed to help him, I will.

“You’re not safe here. We should go to the Vatican. The Pope will be far better equipped to protect you than I.”

Chapter Two

Humid, musty air. Cold, rusty shackles. Gabriel’s body ached and his mind was murky from battle. He slowly opened his eyes and a strange scene opened before him. He was chained to a crumbling stone wall by rusty chains around his ankles and wrists. He appeared to be in some sort of old stone keep. He was in a small crevice coming off of the great hall. The hall was barren of furnishing but for a rough wooden table to Gabriel’s right and an old stone thrown. The thrown was facing a huge stage that had black velvet curtains drawn across it. The only sound was the ominous dripping that echoed of the crumbling walls.

The relative silence was broken as Lucifer burst through one of the curtains in a destructive rage. “We were going to have such fun but nooooo, the granny upstairs had to get all personal about it,” he ranted as he walked briskly towards Gabriel. “Such a pity too, I beat you fair and square with that battle, you know it, I know it and hell even Reeva knows it.” With that he threw his fists on to the table and it cracked in two, then clattered to the floor in ragged splinters. His normally perfectly oiled hair fell in pure white strands around his face. Lucifer was a small man but his rage seemed to make him grow. His pink, twitching eyes fell upon Gabriel for the first time and his normally albino complexion flushed with rage. He took a deep breath and replaced the stray strands with a long bony finger. Lucifer smoothed his suit and looked Gabriel in the eye.

“Reeva and I have come to an agreement about your release from hell. Ohhh, you’re going to love this,” he chuckled as he patted Gabriel’s cheek. His touch was burning hot. “I am going to release back unto earth. You get to keep your wings, but that is about it. That’s right, your fair game. You’re a mortal now.” Lucifer smirked revealing unusually white and pointy teeth. “Don’t worry, we’ll see each other again soon, sweetheart,” he laughed. “I’m going to drop you in a prearranged location and from then on you are a free, mortal man. No more orders, no more quests in the name of God, just the handsome man you are and a world full of sin at your fingertips,” he paused, his eyes clouding with thought. “I will call on you before long, but for now, I must bid you adieu!” Lucifer promptly turned on his heel and started to move briskly away, then, as if it were an afterthought, he looked over his shoulder and snapped his fingers in Gabriel’s general direction. Gabriel was suddenly blinded by burning white light.

*****

Gabriel awoke in a panicky sweat. Where am I? The room was spartanly furnished and he was sitting bolt upright in a wooden bed that was a foot too short for him. Then in a flash the events of the previous night came back to him; awaking in the forest and traveling to a small, nearby chapel, the kind old prior who had offered to help him after seeing his wings, the travel arrangements that had been made for Rome. Gabriel then proceeded to make sense of his dream, or at least attempt to. So I must have been captured in my last battle…whenever that was. But a mortal? How can that be? Gabriel massaged his temples and wished that he hadn’t dreamed this, wished that it wasn’t true.

He slowly stood and pulled on a tank-top, walking towards the barren window of the dormitory. He peered out into the cool, early spring dawn. The storm last night had ravished the landscape and fallen branches littered the forest floor. Rain drops still clung to the ends of pine needles and they sparkled in the gray morning light. Gabriel sighed. Maybe the Pope will have some advice. Who even is the Pope nowadays? Just then William opened the door with a loud creak.

“Oh, good, you’re already awake,” smiled William. He looked terribly exhausted and had dark, puffy circles under his eyes. “We should get going now if we want to be at the private airfield by 8:00am. All the arrangements have been made; we should be in Rome by 2:00pm and meet the Pope in the Vatican by 3:30pm. Are you sure you’re ready for all this?” William had walked over and now had an old, leathery skinned hand resting on Gabriel’s shoulder. William scrunched his face concern and spoke, “Are you ok? You look like you had a rough night.”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel reassured with a smile, “We should get moving.” William gave him a quizatical look but seemed to accept this answer all the same. Gabriel dawned his duster and moved towards the door.

Gabriel and William left the church at dawn. William didn’t own a car so they were going to walk into town and get a cab to take them to the airfield. They walked along the gravel path in silence. William carried a small black bag that carried his only belongings: a bible given to him by the last prior of his church, a change of clothes along with other essentials, and a small, rough wooden crucifix. Gabriel had only the clothes on his back.

The miss-matched pair arrived in town within a few minutes of following the old winding path. Activity in the town was minimal this early in the morning. There were a few old shop keepers changing their signs from “closed” to “open” and sweeping away the debris that had been shook loose by the storm. They waved to William as he passed. “Cute little town. What’s it called?” asked Gabriel in a hushed voice. The shop keepers obviously knew a stranger when they saw one and there accusing stares were making Gabriel uncomfortable.

“Fort William,” William replied with a snort.

“What a coincidence,” Gabriel said.

“My father was William V and his father before him was William IV. My family has been in this town for many generations. Unfortunately, I’m the only one left here. My sister died of polio when she was five and my parents died when I was fifteen in a terrible fire. The prior of our church here practically adopted me and I became his only student. Old Prior Jones treated me like a son. When he died the priory was passed to me,” William said softly. “I do not know who will take care of it when I’m gone. There haven’t been any monks or altar boys here since before Prior Jones’s time.” William turned to Gabriel with a look of desperation. “The people have lost their faith, Gabriel. So many times I’ve tried to bring them back from the edge, but they just don’t believe any more. If there were a way to convince them, to bring back their conviction, I do it in minute. No matter the cost,” William sighed. Gabriel looked at the old prior as he hailed the town’s only cab. His eyes shown with hopeless conviction.

They both climbed in to the cab and William told the old, pudgy driver to take them to the airfield. “I think you will,” Gabriel reassured. William turned to him with a hint of surprise.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” William raised his eyebrows at the remark.

“Lets just say I think their will be a change in the tides.” Gabriel smiled. “But for now, tell me about the current pope.” William leaned back in the musty car seat and pondered for a moment.

“Pope Benedict has been pope for twenty-three years now. He was originally a preeminent cardinal from northern Italy. He is big on converting and has used a lot of the Vatican’s wealth to fund missionaries across the globe. From what I here he is more of the fire and brimstone kind of Catholic. Lot of good it’s doing him too. Since he became Pope there have been more and more churches going bankrupt and dying because of low attendance,” William said angrily.

“Fire and brimstone? What do you mean by that?” Gabriel asked confused.

“It means that his sermons mostly focus on Hell and what happens to sinners. A lot of Old Testament teachings.” William replied.

“Excellent,” Gabriel sighed as the cab turned on to a gravel road. They continued on this road for another twenty minutes. Gabriel watched the blur of green fly by his window as he pondered this news. That’s not how Reeva teaches, he thought sadly. He missed her guidance dearly. She had always been there to help him. The world just seemed lonely with out God helping you along. The cab made a final sharp turn before pulling to a stop. “This is the airfield?” Gabriel asked as he looked over what appeared to be a large parking lot with a small house on one side and a single runway on the other.

“It’s not much, but the Vatican plane should already be here.” William replied as he paid the driver. They left the cab and began walking towards a black Learjet parked by the runway. There were two men leaning against it and smoking, chattering loudly to one another in Italian. William waved to them in greeting and they quickly stomped out their cigarettes and walked briskly towards William with their hands extended. After the initial greetings had been exchanged it became painfully clear to William that these men spoke no English.

**I know it ends rather abruptly but I am starting another story and would like some helpful advice before I go any further. Sorry it looks such a mess but I have'nt figured out how to indent paragraphs yet. Thanks.