Angels and Humans | Ep11 | Doorways

To: Ep10 | Suited

He watched her ring the bell

They stood there together, her fresh in her white shift blowing in the soft breeze and he looking like a survivor from a train derailment. In front of the large, wooden, double doors, he felt somewhat out of place. He looked across at her and her head shifted to indicate she knew he was looking. Without seeing her lips, he could see her cheeks round into a slight smile.

He looked past her and then across the view, it really was a gorgeous sight and standing here next to each other they may be mistaken for a couple waiting for entry to an exclusive party. Perhaps they were going to a party, it was a good of guess as any. The door slowly opened and he brought his attention back to what lay in front.

Sara had a feigned look of disappointment before smiling broadly and rushing into the darkness, arms open. He paused a minute to see if anything was going to rush back out and then with caution, stepped inside.

He stood and soaked in the surrounds

From inside, the 'house' seemed even bigger than out and was open and airy and light. It was indeed built in a Tuscan style with warm terracottas and creams that made the place feel homely despite its immense size. There was no one to be seen but laughing could be heard to his right side. He instinctively turned and headed to a door a few steps away.

Just as he was entering, a child ran giggling into his legs. She looked up at him, pale blue eyes flaming and apologised before running past. He lifted his head just as Sara came flying around the corner and stopped just short but, his instincts spoke again and he took her into his arms and pulled her in. He remembered what she had said at the cafe, "You'll do nicely." What did she really mean?

"You'll find out, Max."

He listened as the voice echoed from behind

He looked at Sara's seemingly always smiling face and released her from his arms. She smiled and took a small step backwards, so small she still encroached on his personal space. It wasn't uncomfortable at all.

He turned as a well dressed woman in her possibly mid-forties approached. Her skin was not like the china of Sara or Evelyn, it was like honey poured over concrete. It was golden but had lived to see unspeakable things. Hardened, serious, eternal.

Sara stepped around him and with more decorum than in chasing the little girl, gave the woman a warm hug and said something softly into her ear. He could hear the sounds, but the language was unknown to him and unlike any he had previously heard.

The woman smiled, nodded slightly and then motioned for him to come over. He felt much more like a child than he thought he should. At the thought of childhood, he was momentarily reminded of his parents, but he brushed it away as he had done many times earlier.

This all felt surreal and natural

He put out his hand as he approached but with a slight shake of her head, she paused his action and instead took a step back, swivelled and without looking back, motioned with her hand to follow. As she walked, he say the familiar fluid movement of grace, back straight, almost gliding. Sara looked at him and smiled and then followed after her, he lagged behind feeling clumsy in their presence.

They walked briskly through the sprawling house and down a long corridor with large glass windows on one side which overlooked the vineyards. Just as he was getting accustomed to the pace, they came to an abrupt halt at a heavy oak door.

"At this point you must go alone, if you choose."

"What is in there?"

"You are. Do you want to know what you are?"

There was no doubt in his mind, he had asked the question yet already knew the answer. He had come this far and that feeling of destiny from childhood had returned strongly again. It pumped in his chest and cleared his mind.

He looked at them both in turn, the stone face remained, Sara's smile had faded to a look of solemnity, neither one of hope nor disappointment. He looked at each in turn again and without saying a word, grabbed the levered handle and pushed into the room and entered. The door closed behind.

He looked into the gloom

His eyes quickly adjusted and he could see the room was bare with vaulted ceilings except a very large wooden crate on the floor. He ran his vision across the room and noticed that just to his left hung a large, ornately framed mirror. He moved towards it and looked in.

He saw his face. He saw it differently than he had seen it before while shaving, or brushing his teeth. He observed himself as if looking at a stranger trying to determine if friend or foe. He looked and looked, no answer came. In the reflection over his shoulder lay the box.

He moved toward it and noticed it was strapped and reinforced with metal bounds riveted and welded. It was nearly as tall as he was and he placed his hand on the side. It was warmer than he expected it to be, like a pie that had recently been taken from the oven to stand and cool.

He walked around it and found that the other side was open, except for thick steel bars as a gate and several padlocks to keep it closed. The warmth from inside radiated out, as did a slight smell of acid.

He peered in

"What am I?"

It had been just a whisper.

A snarl, followed by flames shot from the darkness but instead of moving backwards, he grabbed at the bars and gripped firmly. He could feel the heat on his skin but his senses told him it was just pain, he would survive. From the darkness a flaming mass of animal sprung at the bars and in slow motion like in the cafe, he watched its eyed move with all intention to take his life.

He felt his mind open and as it reached the bars the hatred in its eyes shifted to a look of fear, even terror, but it was too late for it to halt its attack. He saw the same look on the faces of his parents as he walked for the last time from his childhood house of torture.

The beast smashed against the bars and spark and flame burst around Max but as the animal tried to retreat, he reached in and grabbed its massive head by the thick hair and pulled it close and watched as the life drained from its body and into his own as if he was drinking it in though his very eyes. It fell limp and he dropped its body to rest against the bars.

He looked at it a moment and then turned toward the door but as he approached, he changed course and looked into the mirror instead. His eyes had become pin pricks yet, the surrounds were cavernous openings with no end, doorways to another world. He could see what others would recognise as horror but he felt no fear and felt no power.

He felt purpose

Taraz
[ a Steemit original ]

To: Ep12 | Acceptance