The Words of an Angel

This was wrong. This was all wrong.

I couldn’t stop the world from spinning as I rushed stumbling through the darkened alleyways I called home. My head was reeling, and my stomach was turning over itself in horror of what I had just witnessed.

He cannot be gone, I told myself over and over, until my brain was tired of hearing the lies told by my heart . My brain was smart you see. It always knew the truth. I crashed against walls out of weariness, gripping them desperately for support. But their lifelessness helped me little, and I sank hopelessly to the ground. He was gone. Jack was gone. He had been taken by the Scabbers.

I knew there was nothing I could do, but my grief was too great to keep it bottled inside this time. I cried out blood curdling screeches as I sobbed hopelessly into my clenched hands.

They had finally won, and I had failed.

He would become one of them. Who knew what they would turn him into, a bird, a bear, a wolf. The possibilities were endless. And once he was changed, there was no hope of finding him again. He would have no memory of me. He would have no memory of himself. He would steal for them, kill for them, live for them.

And I could do nothing to stop it.

I curled up on the hard cobblestone, my body still wrenching with sobs. It seemed as though every inch of me was stained with grief; I could hardly bear it.

I couldn’t even think of sleeping, not now. I fought desperately to keep my eyes open, but the weight of the night was stronger. Within seconds, my solemn eyes fell victim to the night’s pull, and before long, I was enclosed in the darkness of sleep.


The voice came to me like a dream. "Clara," it called. The sound was as smooth as silk. "Do not forget your purpose. You have not failed him. Not yet." This voice rattled my brain and confused my senses. I could not tell if I was only dreaming, or if this voice indeed spoke truth. In the back of my head, a melody began to stir, faintly at first, but soon I heard it loud and clear.

Up in the sky where the animals grow,
There suffers a man who indeed you know,
His tale must go on,
His story is not spent,
So to preserve his life an angel was sent.
These words are familiar,
You know them to be true,
So pray, do what you came here to do.
This battle is fierce,
But hope is not lost,
You must find the words to pay the cost.

The voice left as quickly and mysteriously as it had come, and I sat in a chilling silence that begged never to be broken. I replayed the words of the melody over and over in my head, contemplating every possible meaning. The faint ring floated through my blurred mind, seeming to focus on the very last line, as if this was the only part of the riddle that would truly make a difference in the end.

You must find the words to pay the cost.

Sitting in the icy gloom of the darkness, I knew what I must do.

Now was not the time for giving up, now was the time when Jack needed me the most.

I would find him. I must find him.

And I would save him.

...........

The night was waving its final goodbyes as I reached the invisible entrance to the world that existed above. Most non-humans knew about this entrance, which might seem odd. But the fact is, no one in their right mind would journey up this way if they ever wanted to come down again. Step by careful step I grew closer to the top. I didn’t know what I expected to see. I had only heard about this cruel world in stories, stories that were meant to frighten children and bring nightmares to all who were foolish enough to hear. This was the land of dark happenings; nothing good was meant to exist here. Cautiously, I lifted my head above the soft clouds. My breath caught suddenly in my throat as I took in the view.

Towering before me stood a dark, stone castle, tall as the sun’s rays, but with stones black as pitch. The billowing clouds that congregated around its bottom held it firmly in their grasp. These clouds, however, were not white, but rather a sorrowful gray that bestowed sadness to even the happiest of men. I glanced higher to see five towers that protruded from the stone top, the largest one residing rightfully in the center. This was where Jack was being held. I was sure of it. The only thing that stood between me and the castle’s gates was a vast cluster of trees that formed a thick, overgrown forest. This darkened forest had its own set of stories. It was called Everwood. Very few had the courage to venture in, and even fewer had the drive to venture out. My spirits sank with the thought of having to pass through this way. For most, this path brought only despair. As I rose higher into the fog, a strong, sour smell that stank of falling ashes and burning flesh filled the air and awakened my senses. This smell was all too familiar. I had been forced to endure this dreadful, inexorable scent many times before.

It was the smell of death.

I stepped cautiously out into the mist that surrounded me, not knowing if I would be met with solid ground or empty air. To my surprise, it was solid. With a quick glance around to ensure my solitude, I ventured toward the forest.

It was now that the paranoia set in. Sounds seemed to come from every direction. The toss of a rock. The caw of a raven. The snap of a twig. A terrible sense of fear was slithering its way into my vulnerable mind. Things were following me. I quickened my pace.I am simply imagining things,

I told myself, there is nothing there. Keep moving forward.

But as I crept closer to the forest’s edge, the sounds became even more frightening. The air about me suddenly became colder, like an icy hand was squeezing the drops of warmth from my body, one by one. I was afraid. A twig snapped suddenly to my right, causing me to jump. I uttered a tiny squeal before quickly covering my mouth with my hand, remembering that guards could be anywhere.

Stay focused,

I thought desperately, think of your task. You cannot fail.

At last, I reached the opening edge of the wood. Menacing trees stared down at me as if I were their prey waiting to be devoured, and the longer I stood there, the more I began to think that that was exactly what I was. Their branches swayed eerily back and forth, but I was sure there was no breeze at all. With a final shove of courage and determination, I strode into the unwelcoming claws of the forest.

Inside, the air became thicker, and the light grew dimmer than it was before. I stepped cautiously over fallen logs and thorns, but still failed to escape their scratches. The farther I tread, the weaker the light became, and the thicker the forest grew. I struggled to move my feet without stumbling over things. My thin dress was torn and snagged and stained with the colors of the earth. I grabbed onto strange plants and prickly vines for support, but my breathing was becoming jagged, and my head could hardly remember which way was up. I searched for a tree to rest on, but they all seemed to be running away from my grasp. Or maybe I was running away from them… I couldn’t tell.

My mind was nearly gone when I heard the whispers, clear and crisp as the day itself.

"Come," they beckoned, "We will show you the way.” Startled, I glanced around me for the source. But I saw only shadows. Then again, the voice sang, “Clara, you are lost. We are here to help you. Follow us to find your precious Jack. He is still alive.” And for one, fleeting second I almost obeyed it. But I knew what these whispers were; these were the Voices of Everwood. Their callings were meant to confuse helpless travelers, to trick them, and to ultimately lead them to their deaths. I clamped my hands over my ears in an attempt to drown out their deceitful whispers.

I must not listen. I must stay focused.

I marched on.

As a distraction, I let my thoughts wander. And almost immediately, my thoughts drifted to Jack- a subject I was painfully trying to avoid. I wondered what they must be doing to him now. The Scabbers were never kind to their victims, and to think of the possibilities made me sick. I shut my eyes and grimaced at my thoughts, attempting to erase them from my memory. But I could not deny what I knew to be true. “My dear Jack,” I murmured, “please be safe. I am coming for you. Everything will be okay.” But I knew he couldn’t hear me. These words were uttered mostly for myself. And I believed them. No matter how true or how false that last sentence would prove to be.

By now I could see the end of the forest. I paused to stare in its direction, as if to be sure of its presence.

It can’t be,

I thought, this was too soon…

but then again who was I to argue? Ahead, I could see magnificent beams of light streaming in from a large break in the trees; this was my way out. I fixed my eyes on the light ahead. It was so close. I was almost there.

Determinedly, I quickened my pace, not caring whether toothed thorns stuck me or whether thick mud caked my legs. And before I knew it, I was running. I was running desperately towards the sliver of hope manifested in that light. I must escape this. I must find Jack. I must save us both.

..........

I ran for what seemed like hours. I should have been nearly out by now, that much I knew. But as I glided swiftly through the trees, something strange registered in my mind. I had seen that red shrub before. And that stream. But I brushed the thought away, not paying it much attention. Soon after, however, these happenings became much too noticeable to ignore. I found that the longer I ran, the farther away my exit seemed to become. I noticed that the light was no nearer than when I had started, and as I ran faster, the exit seemed to run with me. I stopped in my tracks, breathing heavily from exhaustion. I glanced around at my surroundings. The bright red shrub. The cluster of fallen trees. The flowing stream. Everything had remained unerringly the same. My mind and heart exploded with a hopeless devastation. It had all been an illusion. The exit was never moving closer; it had never even been there. I had been tricked. I was no closer to saving Jack than when I had entered this cursed forest. I began to sob uncontrollably into what fabric was left of my simple dress. The trees rustled above me, and I couldn’t help but feel that they were laughing.

How cruel the ways of this forest were, building up one's hopes, and then snatching them away within the same second. It was nearly unbearable. But the forest was smart. It knew. It knew without a doubt that the worst possible feeling a single person can feel is that of sheer hopelessness. That’s why hardly anybody ever ventured out. They had lost all hope.

With time, my torrential sobs turned into whimpers, and from whimpers to silent tears, and from silent tears to a dreamless, hopeless sleep.

When finally I awoke, the doors of the castle were before me.

I sat up, dazed and confused.

But I did not ask questions, I did not doubt, I simply ran. Up and up and up the hundreds of stairs that led to the tallest tower. No guards stopped me, for the hallways were empty. At the very top of the stairs, I was met with an gargantuan wooden door, left slightly ajar so that the room beyond could only be seen through a tiny crack. I peered through.

What I saw pierced my heart and sent me into a panic.

There was Jack. Unconscious and strapped to a stone table. Men with gloved hands were peering over him, studying him. One pair of gloves caught my eye; for it possessed the needle that would take away his life.

I must do something. It was almost too late. I must act now.


Before I came up here, I had made three simple rules with myself. These rules were all I had to follow to ensure success.

RULE #1: Stay silent.
RULE #2: Stay invisible.
RULE #3 (the most important rule of all): Stay alive.

But now, standing here in the midst of this misery, I realized I was about to break all three.

"Stop!" I cried out. My whole body was shaking without my consent. "You must stop this now!"

Every head turned in the direction of my voice, and the injection needle stopped in its tracks.

“Who let her in?!" I heard someone scream from across the room. "Seize her!"

At his command, the room was filled with terrible ripping sounds- not the ripping of clothing, but the ripping of flesh. The once human-like guards were changing into beasts made of coarse fur and snarling teeth. In a panic I searched desperately around me for any kind if weapon. In a thoughtless hope, I threw vials of strange liquids towards the incoming guards. Each exploded on contact. Some burned their victims, some suffocated, some killed instantly, leaving a lifeless lump of human flesh behind. I grabbed onto a bar above me and swung myself up, taking out an oncoming beast in the process. With another swing of my right leg I knocked a snarling black bear off its feet. These blows were obviously too strong for just any normal teenage girl. But I wasn’t normal, I knew I could take them.

I had just avoided a slew of fatal claws when I felt the sudden cold grasp of a hand over my nose and mouth. A human hand. I fought back, pounding his ears with my fists, searching desperately to find the openings of his eyes. But I was growing weary, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe...

"SILENCE THIS MESS!” croaked a loud voice. At its command the violence stopped, and everything went deathly still. I heard the delicate tap of shoes headed slowly in my direction. "What have we here?" questioned the voice, circling around my trapped form. It wasn’t until he stood in front of me that I recognized who I was dealing with. It was his slicked, icy-white hair and coal-like eyes that gave him away; those were always mentioned in the stories. This was Sepphas, head of the Scabbers and of all things unpleasant. "You are a brave soul to venture here," he declared, "We hardly ever have visitors." This statement generated a low growling from the beasts that surrounded me. "Tell me, what is your purpose here?" His face was right in front of mine now, his black, bear-like eyes boring straight into mine for an answer.

"I am here to save a life, his life," I glanced over at Jack, "that has been wrongfully taken from the world below."

"Ah, I see," he said. The pale skin on his face seemed to glisten in the low lighting, it seemed almost... angelic. That's what was so deceiving. "You are a silly girl," he continued, “You could not possibly think that we would let him go so easily."

“No, of course not."

"No? Then what was your brilliant plan, Miss Wilder? I am curious to know." He knew my name.

"My plan, Lord Sepphas, is this: I am offering a sacrifice. My life, in exchange for the boy's." I glanced over at Jack, still lying motionless on the stone table. The corner of Sepphas' mouth rose ever so slightly into the frightful formation of a grin; he was pleasantly surprised.

"You would sacrifice yourself, for this?" He strode over to where Jack lay. "He is a worthless human, weak and vulnerable. Nothing compared to what I could..."

"No!" I cut in, louder and more urgent than I had intended. I brought my voice down, trying desperately to bottle the emotion that threatened to spill over. I gazed hopelessly at Jack. "He is not worthless." A single tear escaped from the corner of my left eye. I dared not wipe it away for fear that it would be acknowledged. But it was already too late.

“Ah,” began Sepphas, a dangerous smirk growing on his lips, “You feel for him.” He began to chuckle in my face. As if there was something that could possibly be funny. I remained stone cold.

"You have heard my offer," I began forcefully, "You must make your choice. His freedom for my life and service." Sepphas strode away from me now, turning his back to me. He began pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. Even from this distance I could see his crackling skin and scarred hands. I could see his mind working in its terrible twists and turns, weighing the options that lie before him. It was almost unbearable to be witness to his sinister imaginings.

At last, he turned to face me. And in his floating, deceitful voice he spoke, "Very well, Miss Wilder, it will be as you wish."

Word count: 2,998

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Lektorat: Judy Colella
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 26.07.2012

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