Get it for
Apple iOS.
Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1987259-Broken-angel
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Gay/Lesbian · #1987259
Jerica thought he deserved to be beaten and hurt. He was wrong.~ unfinished~

          I was flying. The soft clouds caressed my skin like cool damp silk and soaked my thin, ripped, and dirty clothes. I smile as I breach the upper layer and see the sun in the open sky for the first time, not just the gray light that faded into black for different amounts of time. Instead I saw pink and gold and purple and orange and, there on the horizon, a thin line of deep, deep, blue along with a small crescent of what would be a bright, full, moon. Looking down, I see the tops of two wings, black as pitch, and reach down; grabbing the top edge of his wing I gently tug on it, sending him on a spiral. I hear him laugh below me, accepting the challenge, and I take off. Looking behind me as I speed through the sky, I see him following swiftly and gaining.

Smirking, I look ahead and begin flapping harder, letting my power leak outward slightly.  I feel my wings change, becoming sleeker, more powerful, and slightly shorter. Built for speed and power, like a falcons. I lower my-self into the clouds and drift, waiting for my opportunity to strike as he speeds past me, thinking I would have run for it while I could. Smiling, I take my time trailing after him, sticking to the clouds as much as I can and keeping an eye on his progress. Noticing the change in him, the fatigue weighing him down because he'd used all his energy “ chasing” me, I speed my wings slightly and climb upward again, getting above him to dive. As I close in on him I begin picking up speed, preparing for my attack. Letting out a laugh, I dive, twirling through the air, speeding by him and causing him to spin, falling several feet as he shrieks in terror.

         Laughing loudly now, I straighten and flip, looking up at him lazily as he glares at me. My smile slackens as I remember it wasn't always like this, I hadn't always been happy, for years I had been tortured, trapped and forced to endure through hell and the pain of being unloved and unwanted, hated more than any other because of my mixed blood. Then i'd been saved. I smile gently as he drifts down towards me, reaching for my out stretched hand.

         “Cari al mio cuore.” I smile at the soft words and close my eyes, waiting for his gentle touch...

Chapter 1


         ...I open my eyes slowly when his touch doesn't come, and almost begin to cry when im met with only darkness. It was a dream. It was always a dream. I'd never escape from the hell I lived in. I'd never fly, never feel a gentle hand, never be loved. Not after i'd shown them my wings.

         I shift slightly and gasp in pain as my back connects with the muck covered wall. I take a deep breath and cough at the hot stench of my own waste and that of others. Whimpering, I slide my-self into the corner and lay my blood-caked head on my awkwardly bent arm- probably broken again-, sighing as the pounding eases slightly. I moan as a wave of pain rolls through me, Im used to it but that didn't make it any easier. I clench my eyes shut, the sudden light from the open door way making tears well up as the two men approach me. I catch snippets of their conversation through my crippled ear.

         “...what should we...”

         “.... leave it?...”

         “ … could kill him...”

         “...be here soon..”

         “... hurry...”

         “ …beat him again...”

         “..... he'd die...!”

         “... the point...”

         I stop paying attention as white noise fills my head and black creeps around the edges of my vision. I whimper, tears streaming down my face to mix with the grime, when a rough hand fists in my hair and yanks, bringing tears to my eyes. I cry out softly as a hard boot connects with one of my broken wings and ribs. I let out a choked scream as they begin hitting and kicking me in the places they've already broken and breaking places they hadn't. A huffed breath escapes me as I fall into darkness.

         I wake slowly as light hits me. I force my self not to move- not that I can anyway- and wait for the pain that always came with their visits. I startle slightly when I don't recognize the voice that speaks.

         “ Nothing in here, general.”

         General?  There was no general from my village, alive or dead, so they must be the reason the men were anxious earlier. If they weren't with the men then there

was a chance they would help me. I stay quiet and still for another moment until another wave of pain washes over me. I mewl quietly and shift slightly, trying to take a little of the weight off my broken arm. I hear a stifled gasp and tense, whimpering in fear as the door opens farther, squeaking loudly and letting light fall on me, huddled in the corner and in too much pain to move.

         “ By the gods. General, you should see this.” I whimper when I hear the barely audible words. I shiver as a blast of arctic air hits me and try to bring my wings up to cover myself. I wince when the movement stretches any number of broken bones in my wing and lay it over myself, trying to hide my lack of clothes from their view. When a hand lands on my head, tenderly running fingers through my hair I jerk away, whimpering when a sensation like shards of glass cuts into my skin. I try to hold myself still as the man begins speaking again.

         “ Shh, hold still. General, hurry!!” I hear the tears in his voice and know that they wouldn't hurt me, at least not with that intent. I feel a soft touch on my side, keeping me still.          

         “ What is it.” Coughing, I curl in on myself, shying in on myself and unfurling my wings slightly. When I hear a sob I turn over and rest my head on something soft and warm, burrowing into it. I hum in my throat when a hand strokes over my hair and cheek, soothing me. I hear shouting and im lifted off the ground my strong, warm arms as I open my eyes slightly. Regretting  it immediatly I snap them shut and mewl as what feels like a blanket is wrapped around my waist and chafes against my over-sensitive skin.

Chapter 2



        I lift him gently in my arms, trying not to put pressure on his injuries as he makes the soft sounds in his throat.
© Copyright 2014 raven young (firefly511 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1987259-Broken-angel