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Title and Preface

Frozen Embers

By Daniel Novis

Preface

"The world of pure spirits stretches between the divine nature and the world of human beings; because divine wisdom has ordained that the higher should look after the lower, angels execute the divine plan for human salvation: they are our guardians, who free us when hindered and help to bring us home."

- St. Thomas Aquinas

Unknown to the world of men exists a secret battle between earthbound Angels and Demons; a bloody and violent war that has been raging since man was young; hidden in plain sight. A war between good and evil itself over the souls of all men, both sides bound by a set of rules known as the Immortal Laws. This is the story of a yet unknown Immortal, who through strange circumstances and misfortune was lost into the Mortal world.

This is the first tale of Gabriel Hawks.

Heist

Gabriel lay in his bed, flicking a small black torch on and off, watching the shadows dance high up on his wall as he did so. He wondered idly what passersby in the London streets below would make of the strange window with the flashing curtains. He had a comical vision play in his mind of a retired spy in a hotel next to his frantically trying to decipher the mysterious code made by the strange window with the flashing curtains.

Gabriel put the torch in his bedside cabinet and rolled over, making himself comfortable. His legs twitched and squirmed with excitement. Gabriel always felt excitement as he was going to bed. He did not feel excitement in the up-and-coming day that lay in wait after his sleep, no, it was the sleep itself that excited Gabriel. Or, to be more accurate, the dream in the sleep. For the most part, ninety percent of the time, Gabriel's dreams were just like anybody else's; normal, bland and instantly forgettable. And yet, in that one time out of a hundred, his dreams were something very different. He had a feeling tonight was going to be one of those nights. He locked his eyes shut like a child waiting for Santa Clause and allowed his dreams to envelope him.

Michael sat in the rear of a speeding pitch black van staring unseeingly at the Remington Model 1100 shotgun in his hand. He could feel the sweat building up underneath his plain black Italian gloves. The van's wheels squealed in protest as the driver zigzagged his way through London's early morning congestion. The pulse in Michael's ears was deafening; a rapid, thunderous beat of a drum, almost tribal sounding. His heart felt like it was trying to escape his rib cage; an enclosed tiger hurling itself at its container in a bid for freedom. The other five men Michael was sitting with jerked sideways in synchronization as the van went flying over yet another speed bump but due to his bulky size Michael stayed where he sat.

Get a hold of yourself! Michael yelled to himself in his mind. Stop being so nervous! You’ve gone over this plan a thousand times since you first had the idea.

Michael thought retrospectively about his idea; the leech on his brain. He thought about how once the idea had rooted to his brain, once it had been planted there, there was nothing he could do to stop it. It had grown and it had flourished until it was an all consuming parasite. A parasite that had overtaken Michael's very soul.

Where does an idea come from? Michael pondered. This question came as a surprise to Michael. He was strangely proud at how deep it sounded. He repeated the question to himself again. He doubted he had ever before been referred to as philosophical, or wise, or profound or any such alike synonym. He doubted he'd even been called bright by a single person in his whole life.

Yet, there he sat, squashed into the back of a van, pondering an answer to his deepest ever question, where does an idea come from? His reason for pondering was that of this, this idea did not feel like his own. It had come from his brain and it had manifested in his thoughts, and yet, it felt strangely foreign. Like looking down at a transplanted leg, knowing that it was in your use but created by someone else. Sure Michael was capable of evil, he doubted there was a commandment he hadn't broken. But all of his crimes were done impulsively and he was sure nothing had ever sprung into his psyche like this plan, with this much… sin. There really was no other word for it.

It felt more like someone else had placed the plan there, like planting a seed in his head, without his permission or knowhow. Then slowly, insidiously, over time it had enveloped him. Now, that small idea was all he was. It was all he saw, all he heard and all he breathed. Now, that small idea was about to become a very big reality.

Once again, like an incessant woodpecker on the side of his temple, Michael’s nerves demanded his attention.

What about all the stuff I ain’t got control over? He asked in his mind again for the thousandth time like a jammed record player. There’s so much of this that will be left to chance.

Michael shook his head aggressively, as if by doing this it would shake away the negative thoughts that were invading his mind - or indeed the metaphorical woodpecker. This is a good plan. I chose my team well. They’ll do whatever it takes for the job to get done. They understood when they agreed to this that there’s no room for failure... I think they are actually more scared of me than the police at this point.

The edges of Michael’s mouth twitched malevolently at this thought and his mind flickered back to the previous night. He recalled with vivid detail the image of himself hovering over a body, bloody baseball bat in hand, as he watched the life drain out of the dirty, filthy snitch’s face.

I had to do it, Michael told himself in a matter of fact way. I had to make an example of what happens to anyone who tries to double cross me. Okay maybe I didn’t have to go as far as I did but I got the point across didn’t I?

Remembering the sense of power he'd felt the night before seemed to give Michael a re-boost of courage.

This will go as smooth as silk.

The van came to a sharp stop. Michael jumped up to his feet immediately but was forced to hunch a little because he was taller than the innards of the van. He grabbed a balaclava from a small pile that lay in the middle of the van and pulled it over his face. His team followed suit and then stopped to face Michael. Michael looked at the five pairs of eyes that were staring back at him.

“Right everyone knows their jobs.” Michael said, his deep, gruff voice ringing through the metallic walls of the van. “This is it. This single job will make us infamous, rich and legends in our own lifetimes. People will write stories about this. This will be our permanent and immovable finger to the Feds. The Coppers. The pigs.” He said the last word through gritted teeth. Several masked heads nodded their agreement and one man chuckled devilishly.

Michael pulled off the glove from his right hand to reveal a golden wrist watch. He read the time.

“Not long now. I’m just waiting to hear my man’s in position.” He said as he peered through the curtains of the van.

He could see the front of the building from where they were parked. Concrete steps ran up to the entrance to the building; a big revolving door which seemed too modern when compared to its older surroundings of brick wall. Michael read the big bold letters that were draped above the revolving door.

‘TOWN STREET BANK’.

Gabriel woke with a start. Panting fast, he sat upright in his bed. He wiped the sweat beads from his forehead and thought about the dream he’d been having. He had dreamt he was a man named Michael who was being driven to rob a bank. The dream had left Gabriel shaken. Gabriel leaned over to his bedside table and took a sip from the glass of water he kept there.

It was only when he’d awoke that he had realized he was not Michael, and obviously wasn’t about to rob a bank. Gabriel had felt like he actually was this Michael. Gabriel had seen through Michael's eyes, spoken through his mouth and even thought as though he really was the thief. Gabriel sometimes had this experience with his dreams. He called them Identity dreams because he would completely change identities during the night, forgetting he was ever himself he would live, with vivid clarity, a snippet of someone else's life. However on the rare occasions it had happened before Gabriel had found it fun. He had taken on the identity of everyday people like milkmen, postmen and barmen. He had never had a bank robber before.

The image of the lifeless snitch Michael had hovered over flashed vividly in Gabriel’s mind. This image made his skin crawl.

Gabriel was a skinny fifteen year old boy. He was short in height, and shorter even more so in temper. He could not stand bullies. Gabriel was never bullied himself but he had witnessed bullying with fellow school children time and time again. For some inexplicable reason Gabriel had never been able to turn away, never been able to not intervene. Since as long as he could remember he'd always had this yearning to protect people and this usually involved putting himself in harm's way to do so. No matter how big the bully or how many there were of them he had to step in. It was right. It was somehow his duty. This meant that in the few short months he had been going to ‘Fairway Academy’ he had tallied up more classroom, hallway and playground brawls than anyone else in his year. It was the same story, no matter which academy he was sent to. As he got an inch taller, the bullies seemed to sprout up twice as high and hit three times as hard. He was shipped from school to school every year or so for fighting.

But Gabriel had never kicked anyone whilst they were down. Michael was three times the size of the snitch he’d beaten up and yet he still brought a bat to the fight. Coward.

Fight him knuckle to knuckle, face to face. He hated people like Michael, a big man picking on all the smaller people. It’s pathetic. A familiar anger built up inside of Gabriel. He breathed out slowly.

Then he realized what he was doing. He was judging the fighting preferences of a figment of his imagination. This is crazy, he thought, it was just a dream. I can't affect what I dream so I shouldn’t let it affect me either, Gabriel reasoned with himself. Michael is a part of my unconscious and that’s where I should leave him.

Besides, it wasn’t exactly a mystery why the surroundings had been so real-looking anyway. The bank that Michael had been about to rob existed in real life. It was right around the corner in fact. He would be walking past it on his way to school-

“Oh no, school!” Gabriel gasped as he looked over at his alarm clock. He had to be there in twenty minutes and he hadn’t even woken his sister, Molly, yet.

All thoughts about Michael had been driven out of his mind as he jumped off of the bed and ran to the wardrobe. He grabbed the Fairway Uniform that was crumpled in a heap at the bottom, as it had been chucked carelessly there the night before. He wrenched the top over his head, unceremoniously, and hurried to the door. Placing one leg into his trousers he stepped out into the hall.

“Molly!-“ Smash!

There was the sound of a cup breaking and Gabriel crashed to the hard floor in a heap; his backend, only half covered by trouser, sticking out in the air and his face cushioned by something warm and moist. He had tripped over a mug of hot chocolate and landed, face first, in a slice of newly made toast with strawberry jam.

Gabriel groaned in pain.

He could feel the hot chocolate seeping through his top. He climbed to his feet and walked down the long hallway of his family’s London apartment to the kitchen. There, reading the news paper and sipping her own cup of hot chocolate, sat Gabriel's younger sister, Molly. Fully dressed and ready for school.

“I made that breakfast with the expectation it would go in your mouth.” Molly said wearing a sardonic grin. She looked Gabriel up and down. “But I like what you’ve done with it a lot more.”

She smiled and then turned back to the news channel she had been watching.

Gabriel scoured at her for several moments and then looked towards the television screen. The news reader was giving updates on the biggest piece of news that week, maybe even that month.

“Updates are coming through now about ‘The London Underground Bombers’. Kelly Upton is outside Greyside High Security Prison in London.”

Then the scene cut over to a young and pretty woman holding a microphone. She was standing in front of a barbed wired fence.

“Thank you Richard. I’m here in front of Greyside Prison where the seven London Underground Bombers are to be incarcerated indefinitely following the verdicts reached this morning. A sentence of life without bail for each of the seven was given.” Kelly Upton reported.

Gabriel, like the vast majority of London, had been watching the news intently for any development in this story. These Seven bombers were incredibly mysterious. Little was known about them, or at least little had been disclosed. They were 'from somewhere in Eastern Europe' was the only real information Gabriel had learned about them thus far.

Nobody knew whether this was an act of terrorism or something money related. Speculations had suggested it was terrorism but backing religious or nationalistic causes they did not know.

The Seven had kept close to silent and their images were rarely shown.

“The count now stands at one hundred and seventy three deaths as a result of the bombing. It was originally thought that the tragedy was caused by an electrical fault in the engine of the train, however, after an examination of the train experts concluded that detonated explosives and signs of foul play were found in the engine. This led the police to believe that somebody had orchestrated the derailing of the train.

The spot light was put on The Seven after an anonymous phone call informed the police of explosives at the home where the men lived. After the police inspected the house they found not only the same explosives that were used in the bombing, but also detailed plans on how to orchestrate a derailing. This was enough to charge the East European men.

Since they all claimed to be the leader they all gained the same sentence. Police informed me that they will be held in a separate, newly built ward at Greyside with round the clock surveillance.

There is no evidence that these men are associated with any pre-existing terrorist groups at this point but they do share some characteristics. This leads the police to believe that this was a religiously motivated assault-“

“Gabriel! What is zat on your face?” shrieked a harsh German woman’s voice from the other side of the kitchen.

Gabriel jumped a foot into the air and revolved on the spot. It was Gabriel and Molly’s house keeper, Ms Clark.

Ms Clark had been with them for as long as Gabriel could remember. She was thin and mean looking with permanently alert brown eyes. Her hair was beginning to grey and her skin beginning to wrinkle in her old age. This brought with it a look of ever increasing frailty.

Ms. Clark, however, was frail neither by body nor mind. She was half nanny and half body guard to Gabriel and Molly.

Ms. Clark had been the one to teach Gabriel Martial Arts. She'd always been incredibly persistent on this, not letting Gabriel miss a single lesson since the age of five.

Why they needed a house keeper that knew martial arts, Gabriel never knew. From what he understood she had taken up the position of their house keeper just after leaving Germany’s Intelligence Agency.

Ms. Clark had told Gabriel and Molly that when they were younger there were eight body guards. They were fired one by one until only Ms. Clark remained.

This baffled Molly constantly. She believed that their parents must have some serious enemies. Gabriel however wasn’t really fussed. Ms. Clark made amazing blueberry pancakes and that made her, in Gabriel’s eyes, worthy of the job.

“You’re going to be late Gabriel. Hurry up.” Ms. Clark barked.

Gabriel sighed, turned and went to get changed.

Detour

Gabriel didn’t know why he had panicked. Molly was rarely ever late, for anything. She was by far the most intelligent person Gabriel knew. Gabriel and she were extremely close. They were more than merely brother and sister. Though neither Gabriel nor Molly would admit it out loud they were, and had always been, best friends.

Molly wasn't Gabriel’s biological sister. They weren't even mistaken for biological siblings either due to the contrast in their appearance. Gabriel was pale white, with unruly blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Molly on the other hand was dark olive toned in skin colour, hinting at Mediterranean heritage, with long shiny black hair and dark chocolate brown eyes.

They had been adopted from the same orphanage. Both Gabriel and Molly had been abandoned at the orphanage around the same time. No details were taken from either set of biological parents. Gabriel supposed this was quite common. They cared so little about giving him that they couldn't even spare the time to fill in the paperwork. Gabriel and Molly's closeness was mainly due to the fact that they had had to look after each other from a very young age. Molly had been weeks old when adopted and Gabriel was around a year older than that.

Their adopted parents, Cecilia and Braxton Fairway, were almost permanently ‘Away on Business’. This left Gabriel and Molly alone with Ms. Clark in their London apartment.

Oh, and it is no coincidence that they share their name with the academy to which Gabriel attends. Braxton’s father, Braxton Fairway the third, donated so generously to the academy that they actually renamed it shortly after his death.

Gabriel’s surname, thankfully in his opinion, was not Fairway. Cecilia and Braxton simply kept the name that the orphanage had given him; Gabriel Hawks. Gabriel didn't know whether this was the sole piece of information his parents had left or whether the orphanage had made it up. The truth was that either way he didn't care. He liked his name.

The same story could not be said for his now fourteen year old sister who had no last name. So Molly was awarded the surname Fairway. Gabriel, over the last few years, had come to suspect that the main reason Cecilia and Braxton had adopted him and his sister were more for aesthetic reasons than maternal and paternal instincts. Cecilia and Braxton were very rich and in the public eye a lot due to their business. So it would bode well for them to have a warm family side.

They were young and very attractive. So why go through the sticky and painful act of child birth when you can go out and buy a baby? They didn’t get involved with such monotonous affairs like their son getting kicked out of school for warding off five bullies at once using a cafeteria tray as a weapon. Cecilia and Braxton just throw more money at other local academies, raising the price, until eventually someone takes Gabriel in.

Fifteen minutes after the breakfast incident Gabriel was ready for school.

“Are you okay viv getting yourselves to school today?” Ms. Clark asked them both.

Gabriel and Molly took the elevator from their room on the fifteenth floor down to the lobby. Then from the lobby they stepped out into the street. The day was chilly and windy. Snow floated elegantly from the sky.

“Oh yeah I forgot to mention, here.” Molly said as she opened the doors and they started to walk down the main road. She held out two objects in her hand, an envelope and a parcel. Gabriel took them confused.

“What are these for?” He inquired.

Molly looked at him puzzled.

“You’re kidding, right?” She answered. But when Gabriel continued to look confused she went on. “Are you saying that you have no idea what today is?”

Gabriel took the two objects and examined them. What’s so special about today? He thought. What was the date anyway? December 15th... no wait that’s wrong, the 16th he corrected himself.

All of a sudden it came to him and he felt incredibly stupid for not remembering. How could he have forgotten? December 16th was Gabriel and Molly’s birthday. Well sort of anyway. It was the date that they had been adopted. Since neither knew their own specific birthday they took December 16th.

Gabriel supposed it was the dream that had bombarded most of his other thoughts from his mind. He turned back to Molly and tried to pass off his moment of stupidity as a joke.

“Of course I know what today is.” He said with what he hoped was a convincingly pompous tone. Molly did not seem convinced.

“I’m surprised you even manage to dress yourself some days.” she said with a chuckle. “The envelope is from Cecilia and Braxton.”

Gabriel opened the envelope and slid out the piece of paper that was inside it. It was a check. No loving note lay inside. No funny birthday card. Just a check. Of course, he had been expecting as much.

He turned back to Molly. She had a concerned look on her face which made him suddenly very interested in the buttons on his blazer.

“Gabriel, they were probably just too busy that’s all. At least now you can buy something you know that you’d like.” She gave him a sympathetic smile.

“So, that means this,” Gabriel gestured to the unopened parcel “Is from you.”

“Yes it is.” answered Molly, grateful for the change in subject.

Gabriel ripped the brown paper off and pulled out a thick black book. The cover read ‘Memories’ in big and bold golden letters. He opened the first page. Written in Molly’s calligraphy styled hand writing on the inside of the cover were the words ‘It’s you and me against the world Gabriel. Smile and think of me. Love Molly’.

Gabriel started to flick through the book. It was a kind of scrap book full of photographs of Molly and him. There were some pictures, however, that he didn’t remember being taken. Confused, he examined them closer. After a moment or two he realized. They were not photographs at all, they were paintings. Paintings depicting real-life memories that Molly and Gabriel had shared.

In watercolors, oil, pencil and charcoal. Sketches, drawings and paintings.

Gabriel stared fixedly on one painting in particular. He had recognized it immediately. It was a watercolor painting. A genius array of red and orange sky entwined majestically around an ever lowering yellow sun that delved into the most tranquil of blue seas. Gabriel's mind was sent flying back to their trip to the beach the previous summer, relived again in shockingly great detail.

Gabriel never cried. It wasn't in his nature. So it surprised him when he went to speak but was almost rendered mute by an unfamiliar lump in his throat. He resolved to stay silent till the strange phenomena subsided. He looked at every page in detail, studying them, as Molly walked by his side in silence.

“Molly it’s...” Gabriel started. Molly seemed to understand. She stopped Gabriel and gave him a firm hug, which he returned gladly.

“You and me against the world, Gabriel. Remember that.” She whispered in his ear.

Gabriel broke off to look upwards. He was confused. He had heard the sound of a helicopter. It had sounded way too close, though. Like it was flying too low. Seeing no helicopter or anything that would create the noise he looked back down at Molly.

"Molly I have got you something but I left it at home."

"Oh what a shame!" Molly said sincerely.

"I'm sorry. I'll give you it when you get home." Gabriel said feeling guilty.

"But I wanted to wear it today."

"I wanted you to but- wait." Gabriel stopped, puzzled. "What do you mean wear it?"

Molly gave a devilish smile. She pulled down the collar of her top to reveal a white golden chained necklace. A shimmering diamond hung low off of the chain, eclipsing the beauty of the snow flakes that fell to gently rest on its surface.

"Don't be angry Gabriel. I found it and couldn't resist. I thought you'd forget to give it to me today. It's just so pretty." She paused and waited for Gabriel's reaction.

Gabriel tried his best poker face but sardonicism was nothing compared to Molly's. He gave up and his lips spread into a wide grin.

"You're always ahead of me aren't you?" He laughed. "Glad you like it. Happy fifteenth birthday."

"I love it!" Molly said delighted.

"Good."

Gabriel kissed Molly on the cheek and continued to walk down the street. It was only after several moments that he realized Molly wasn’t next to him. He turned around to see her standing several paces back.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel asked.

“Your cheque.” Molly answered. “We may as well cash it now, don’t you think? Whilst we’re walking by the bank.”

Gabriel looked at his surroundings. They were standing at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the Town Street Bank. This was the bank that Gabriel had dreamt of the previous night. He had been so engrossed in his conversation with Molly that he hadn’t noticed where they were.

“No!” Gabriel shouted making Molly jump and take a step backwards in surprise. “I mean, no not right now. We’ll be late for school. Surely we've only got a few minutes till it starts.” He said hoping to cover up his slip.

“Gabriel, how many times have I told you to change those batteries in your alarm clock? It's been broken for weeks."

Gabriel looked at his wrist watch.

"Oh." He mumbled.

"We’ve got plenty of time.” Molly said. She walked over to Gabriel and took the cheque out of his hand. Then she turned and started to walk up the stairs.

“Molly, no.” Gabriel said with conviction. Molly turned to him and raised her eyebrows.

“Why are you so weird?” she asked.

Gabriel went to talk but stopped himself as he ran through in his head what it would sound like to tell her the truth.

Well last night I had a dream that this bank was going to be robbed so I'd rather not use it today. Thank you for your understanding and apologies for any inconvenience that may have arisen as a result of this prophecy.

Of course he couldn't say that. And so, reluctantly, he followed Molly up the concrete stairs and through the revolving doors.

The inside of the bank was large and high ceilinged. It was very well illuminated thanks to its clean white walls and dozens of windows. It was fairly busy yet there was almost no noise, just a low buzz of mumbling. Molly went to join the line, but Gabriel lagged back. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. He shook his head and, realizing that the security guard was giving him a funny look, went to join Molly in the line.

“Seriously Gabriel, what’s wrong?” Molly asked.

But Gabriel didn’t hear her. He had just heard car's tires screech to a halt outside. Gabriel grabbed Molly’s hand and began to pull her to the wall of the bank.

“Gabriel? What-” Molly started but then gasped. Several masked men with guns forced their way into the bank through the revolving doors. Gabriel closed his hands over Molly’s eyes as one masked man pointed a ‘Remington Model 1100’ shotgun into the face of the security guard.

BANG!

The peaceful and boring scene of the bank turned to one of chaos in the blink of an eye; a disturbed bees hive. Bankers and customers alike dived to the ground. Man, woman and child scrambled for cover. A roar of screams and yells echoed off of the spotless white walls. Gabriel grabbed Molly and pulled her under a desk.

“Everybody, get down!” yelled a deep booming voice. Was that Michael? Gabriel thought. Of course it's Michael you idiot! yelled another part of his brain.

The explosive sounds of gunshots crashed against Gabriel's eardrums. Gabriel looked down at Molly. She looked terrified.

The masked men were bellowing commands to the cashier to empty all of the money into the bags. Gabriel's foggy brain tried to form some kind of a plan. They just want the money, he reasoned. As long as we stay under this desk they will grab the money and go.

As though someone had heard his thoughts, before Gabriel had time to react, Molly was seized from under the desk.

“Gabriel!” she screamed.

Gabriel jumped out from behind the desk and looked across the vast hall. Molly was being carried on the shoulder of one of the masked men.

“I’ve got a hostage! Let’s get out of here!” One of the masked men yelled to his comrades. They all ran into a door by the side of the bank marked 'Stairs'.

Gabriel's mind had deserted him, leaving nothing behind but empty space. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? When it came down to it there was only one thing he could do. He made after them. He pushed his way through the sea of panicking citizens and burst through the door to the stairs. He could hear them running. They were about three stories up from the sounds of it.

Why were they going upwards? This made no sense. Surely once they had the money they would leave threw the door they came into. The police would have already blocked off the roads, Gabriel thought. How would they escape by going up the stairs? They must know a different way to get out of the building.

The answer hit him like a ton of bricks and quite literally knocked the wind out of him. The sound of the helicopter Gabriel had heard outside rang in his mind. Gabriel bolted up the stairs as fast as he could. He wasn’t, he couldn’t lose Molly.

Around story seven Gabriel heard a door smash open above him and the sound of a helicopter hit his eardrums. Light and cold air filled the stairway.

Gabriel quickened his run and within seconds he reached the door to the roof.

The snow was falling much more rapidly. There was nothing elegant about this, it was a full-blown blizzard now. The roof had a layer of snow inches thick.

Gabriel covered his eyes with his hands and looked over to the other side of the roof. There were five masked men loading bags full of money into a black helicopter. Gabriel could see Molly. She was kicking and screaming in the arms of a masked man inside the helicopter.

Gabriel eyes scanned the scene before him. He laid out a thousand scenarios in his head. He concluded that the odds were he could take on one, maybe two of the men. He could not, however, take six. Plus Michael was about double his size. And on top of all of that they all were carrying shotguns. He didn't know it yet but the shotguns weren't the most dangerous things on the rooftop with Gabriel.

His scattered brain had overlooked something. Actually less of something and more of two someones.

Next to the helicopter stood two men. Both remarkably handsome, with combed-back black hair. Both dressed in smart black looking business suits.

Gabriel made his way forward not knowing what he was going to do when two men materialized into his vision. He could have sworn that he had not seen them there the second before. Their clothes were so dark in comparison to the snow white background that he couldn't see how he had missed them before.

They both stood there calmly, holding their hands behind their backs. With only mildly interested looks on their faces, they watched the robbers. As though they had just happened to be strolling by when this caught their attention.

The sight before Gabriel was so baffling that he stopped striding towards the helicopter. What were these men doing? Were they involved? The robbers didn't seem to have noticed them. They had an almost supervisor look them. Like they were babysitting the bank robbers and just watching them incase they did anything wrong.

"Hey!" Gabriel yelled. Catching even himself by surprise. Even though over the sound of the wind his voice hit all of the ears on the roof. Everyone, including the two men in suits looked over to him.

“Michael!” Gabriel shouted at the top of his lungs.

Every one of men froze where they stood and looked towards the biggest figure of the bunch.

“Mich-“ Gabriel was cut short. The man he was now sure was Michael turned around to face Gabriel. Gabriel could tell, even with the mask on, that it was Michael. He called for one of the masked men to go to Gabriel. Following lazily behind were the two men in business suits.

Gabriel raised his arms in submission as a rather small masked man walked towards him pointing a shotgun half heartedly at him.

"I think you had better turn back round kid." The masked man said.

"Listen, all I want is my sister! Please, you have the money just let her go." Gabriel pleaded, his arms still in the air.

"That's not my call to make kid. So either you turn around now or I'm gunna have to shoot you."

Gabriel changed tact. He looked over to the men in suits.

"Please-" He started but was cut short.

As Gabriel’s eyes met the pair belonging to one of the suited men, pain like Gabriel had never felt before pierced his back. Gabriel fell to his knees. Blood trickled from his back, redding the snow as it fell in droplets before him.

"What the heck?" yelled the masked man, taking a step backwards in surprise. The two suited men did not stand back, however. Ever building interest spread across their faces.

Gabriel screamed in agony. Had he been stabbed? Something hard had been jammed into both his shoulders. No, that wasn’t right, two things were stabbing out of his shoulders. Gabriel threw off his bag and reach around his left shoulder blade. He could feel something growing from him. It was as though extra limbs were bursting from his back. He threw aside his blazer but there was not time for his shirt. It was ripped off him from the seems, buttons popped and fabric teared until he lay bare-chested, writhing in pain.

After what felt like an hour, but most probably was mere seconds, the pain subsided. Gabriel lay on the ground, topless and panting. He rolled over onto his knees and went to reach over his shoulders again but stopped as he caught sight of two large white things that were hanging over him, around his arms and across his chest as though cradling him. Gabriel whipped away the water from his eyes and refocused them. He saw... feathers?

"Michael!" the masked man squealed with terror as he ran back to the helicopter.

"Don't use my real name you idiot!" Michael yelled back.

"Michael you gotta see this man! This kid just grew fricking wings!"

"What the hell you talking about-" but Michael's deep voice cut off as he looked out across the rooftop.

Wings? Gabriel thought weakly. He pushed himself shakily to his feet and examined them. He could hear the wind rustling his feathers. More importantly than that though, he could feel it. The sensation coming in as strong as someone rubbing his arm. The feathers, the wings, were a were a part of him.

Gabriel found he could tense the muscles on them. He willed them to stretch apart. They did. He relaxed them and again they enveloped him. He could see them clearly now. They were wings. Wings that spread at least three meters in diameter. They stemmed from his shoulder blades. They were beautiful. Dove like. Angel like.

Gabriel looked up to the men who were all standing open mouthed and staring at Gabriel. All accept the two men in suits.

“Michael!” Gabriel yelled again as he began to walk firmly towards them.

Michael and the men stepped backwards. Panic stricken, they started to clumsily walk climb backwards into the helicopter, rushing to get the money in.

The two business men stayed where they stood however, blocking Gabriel's way.

“Ah, Philatanus look. One of our little pigeon friends has come to gate crashed our party.” said one of the men to the other in a light tone.

“Yes Ornias, I can see that.” said Philatanus shortly.

“Why the sour tone?” snapped back Ornias.

“Well to be frank, I’m a little offended. This is due to be the biggest bank robbery to hit London for decades and all they send is this teenager.” replied Philatanus.

Gabriel had been listening to these two men only because they blocked his way to the helicopter. Philatanus and Ornias. Surely they weren't their real names. Also Gabriel was in complete bewilderment about what they were talking about. They seemed to not be at all shocked at the sudden appearance of a bird-boy... a boy-bird... a winged thing in front of them.

“Listen, all I want is my sister back. You can keep the money for all I care.” Gabriel said in as calm a voice as he could muster.

The men stood staring at Gabriel for a moment, looking the most confused they had yet.

“He acts as though he does not know of us.” said Ornias in a slightly puzzled tone to Philatanus.

The one named Philatanus regarded Gabriel speculatively for a moment.

“What is your name, angel?” Philatanus asked Gabriel.

“Angel?" Gabriel was flabbergasted he had no idea how to respond. "Move aside so I can get to my sister.” Gabriel repeated firmly. He glanced over their shoulders to the helicopter. The masked men were almost done with the bags.

“The girl?” asked Philatanus. “What concern is she of yours?”

“She’s my sister.” Gabriel answered annoyed, his temper rising.

“See, we have a predicament there.” said Philatanus with a laugh.

Gabriel just stared in silence so Philatanus went on.

“The girl is what I’m getting out of this you see. I have no concern about the money. She’s my reward,” He gave a stomach turning wink. “If you know what I mean.”

Gabriel reacted without thinking. Adrenaline coursing threw his veins like molten lava. He lunged at Philatanus. Perhaps it was the stupidity of his act that caught Philatanus off guard but Gabriel landed a punch square in his face. The punch was harder than he had ever thrown before. His fist radiated power as it made contact with his face. Philatanus flew feet into the air and landed on his back in the snow.

The man called Ornias reacted moments later with the most surreal thing Gabriel had seen that day. Ornias swung his arms as though about to throw a ball. As he thrust his hand in Gabriels direction, however, a ball of fire materialised in his hand and flew straight towards Gabriel.

Instinctively Gabriel dived sideways. The ball missed him by inches. He ran and crouched behind an air vent as several more falmig balls flew past him. Gabriel poked his head around the vent and saw Philatanus getting to his feet. He had a split lip that was oozing blood.

Philatanus looked extremely angry. He threw his jacket off. Gabriel expected Philatanus to come running towards him. Instead he just stood there. He closed his eyes for a moment, balled his fists and tensed with concentration. Wings sprouted from the man’s shoulders and small spiky horns erupted from his forehead. His wings weren't white like Gabriel's but the darkest shade of black. With one swift movement of his wings Philatanus took flight. He let out a deranged laugh as he circled above Gabriel like a vulture. Gabriel couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Come out Duckling!” He yelled down from above.

Gabriel stayed where he sat. With morbid irony he felt like a sitting duck. Fire started to rain down on him. Philatanus was aiming around him. Scare tactics. He was toying with Gabriel.

“Come out coward!”

Gabriel’s mind was racing. What was going on? This can’t be real. He could see no way of getting around this demonic mad man to Molly. There was nothing for it. He’d have to fight. So Gabriel stood up firmly and held his hands out in useless fists. Philatanus hovered meters above Gabriel’s head. Philatanus' attention was not on Gabriel any longer but to the left of them both.

He looked horror struck. Gabriel turned his head to see what he was looking at. From the swirling mist of white came a man. With wings that matched the white of Gabriel’s, he fly fast towards the roof. He had grabbed Philatanus across the middle with such force that they were both sent flying to the roof floor. An revolting, bone breaking crunch hit Gabriel's ears.

Gabriel stared in amazement wondering what he could do to help. Ornias burst into the air, with wings and horns matching that of his fallen comrade and flew off the roof of the bank, without even a glance back.

The angel man was tall, muscley and had blonde hair that was braided into dreadlocks. He wore a white top with holes that allowed room for his wings on either shoulder blade and blue denim trousers.

But what hit Gabriel most was this man’s resemblance to Gabriel. He could have been his older brother. The man pulled from a harness on his belt, a gleaming gold sword. Philatanus flailed his mighty wings and squirmed his entire body but it was no good. The man held him firmly down by the throat as he plunged the golden sword straight into Philatanus’ heart.

As the life drained out of Philatanus the white winged man looked up to Gabriel. His faced changed from aggression to shock. He gazed wide eyed at Gabriel.

Gabriel, however, didn’t have time to stare. He whipped his head towards the helicopter. It had taken off. Gabriel’s heart dropped. He had failed. Michael was going to take his sister.

“No.” Gabriel said determinately and started to run powerfully towards the edge of the building. He ran as though he’d always known it would come to this. Gabriel dived from the side of the building, arms spread, and willed his wings to keep him airborne. They did and with one swipe he was soaring towards the helicopter with superb speed. Gabriel flew like a wrecking ball straight into the helicopter’s side, smashing through the wall. He landed on a masked man who was struck unconscious.

The inside of the helicopter turned to anarchy. One man began firing his gun in all directions, hitting another man in the chest. Blood sprayed outwards from the man's open cavity.

All the men were yelling in fright as the helicopter began to swing around uncontrollably. Wind and snow filled the small. Gabriel however was bent over in pain again. His wings appeared to be going back inside him. After seconds they were completely gone. He looked up. On the other side of the helicopter, clutched in the mighty arms of Michael, was a struggling Molly.

“Gabriel!” Molly screamed in terror.

“Let her go Michael!” Gabriel yelled in fury.

Michael looked horrified. Gabriel started towards him. Due to fear Michael threw Molly aside like a bomb that were about to explode. Molly fell sideways and stumbled out of the hole Gabriel had made. Without thinking, Gabriel dived out of the helicopter. Arms stretched out he caught her hand and pulled her close. They fell with increasing speed towards the concrete streets below.

He tensed his whole body, willing the wings to appear again. They were their only hope.

"Come on! Come on!" He yelled desperately.

They had to come! But they did not. So Gabriel did the only thing he could do. He cradled his little sister with his own body, hoping to use himself as shield from the inevitable collision. He took a final look down at his best friend. She was as beautiful as ever.

Flesh and Paper

Sarah woke up feeling disorientated. She felt like she’d been hit over the head with something hard and heavy. She tried to recall the memories of the previous night. She remembered being at a party, an office party, celebrating the big deal that her firm had just secured. Yes, that’s right, she thought. The last thing she could remember was the champagne they’d all drunk. How much had I had? She thought.

Slowly she seemed to be regaining the feeling in her body and this made her realise how uncomfortable she was. She was lying on a cold concrete floor. Confusion forced her eyes open. This didn’t clarified nothing as it was close to pitch black. A cold chill ran down her spine. It was freezing where ever she was. She climbed shakily to her feet.

“Hello?” she called out into the darkness. “Is there anyone there?”

The echo that returned to her gave her the impression that they were in a big hall.

Sarah was worried now. She was debating whether or not to search blindly for a door when lights burst sporadically to life high above her. Sarah covered her eyes. Once her eyes had accustomed she checked her surroundings. She was in a huge room. Small metalic lockers covered every inch of the walls. Sarah’s heart dropped as she realised where she was. She was inside a bank vault.

Sarah was beyond bewildered now. Her mind ached as again she delved into her memories but found no sliver of plausibility as to why she was on the inside of a vault.

She looked around her and jumped with surprise. Next to her lay several other bodies, all beginning to stir. However, what took almost all of Sarah’s attention was not these semi-conscious bodies.

In the middle of the vault lay a giant mountain that reached high enough to touch the ceiling and wide enough that it took up most of the floor space. It seemed to be composed of millions of stacks of paper. Sarah walked forward to examine and her heart missed a beat. It wasn’t just paper, it was money. English sterling notes stacked together. There must be millions, no billions here she thought. An excitement spread through Sarah’s entire body.

Money was her life and had been ever since she was a child. Most kids would spend their pocket money on sweets or new toys but not Sarah. Sarah would collect her coins like a magpie. She’d steal from her sisters and smaller children in her neighbourhood simply just to possess their coins. It wasn’t what you could buy with money, it was the power and respect that comes with simply owning more than others.

The bodies around her were getting to their feet now and were inspecting the mound of money with the same glint of greed that was etched on Sarah’s face also. They were all dressed in fine business suits. All were of different nationalities.

“Ladies and Gentlemen”, came a voice from nowhere. “Apologies for the lack of information up until this point-”

It was a male voice with a strong Northern Irish accent. It seemed to be coming over a speaker system.

“What is this?” snapped a Chinese businessman next to Sarah. Everyone was turning on the spot trying to locate the source of the voice.

“Patience, Mr. Lin. All will be explained.” The Irish voice said calmly. The man named Mr. Lin looked taken aback that the bodiless voice knew his name. “Now, to business. I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re all here.”

“Damn right we are!” Said Mr. Lin.

The Irishman continued as if he hadn’t heard this interruption.

"My name is Alexander Doyle and I have a proposition for you."

"I damand you let us go immediately!" shouted a German businessman.

Again the Irishman ignored the protesting.

"Why are we here?" Yelled Mr. Lin.

“You are here because of your desire for material gain." The Irishman announced, matter-of-factly.

The group of business people fell silent.

"You are here because of your capitalist lifestyle. You are here because of your lust for riches. In short you are here, ladies and gentlemen, because of your greed."

Sarah looked around at the faces of the business men and women. Each looked at each other with incredulous eyes. What was this? Some kind of intervention for the successful?

"For those of you who are not aware, greed is an excessive desire and pursuit of wealth, status, and power. The punishment of a man found guilty of greed is as follows." The Irishman cleared his throat. Much like a waiter preparing to read today's specials. "That man will sent to Hell where he will be boiled alive in oil for all of eternity.”

The Irishman paused. "And believe me, ladies and gentlemen, Hell does exist."

The deadly silence pressed into the ears of every man and woman there.

Sarah felt her pulse rising. Her instincts screamed to her that danger was coming. She didn't know what she'd expected but it certainly was not this. She still hadn't taken her eyes off of the mountain of money.

“This, to me, seems a fitting punishment for such an unholy lifestyle. Unfortunately, humans seem to have become blissfully ignorant to these facts. That’s where I come in. I’m here to make you see the error of your ways. To guide you back onto the path you seem to have strayed away from, as it were.”

"Humans?" Sarah repeated in a whisper.

There was a strange detatchment when he'd said the word 'human'. He seemed to consider himself to be something other than a human. This man is mad, thought Sarah. They were all being held captive by a religious extremist.

Sarah thought hard again about the previous night. The champagne was the last thing she could remember. He must have spiked it. She began to walk cautiously around the Vault, seeing if there was any way out. She made it to the vault door. It was big, circular and solid. Sarah pushed as hard as she could but to no avail. They were trapped here.

“Each and every one of you is extremely wealthy and powerful. This comes at the expense of other men, women and children. I take, as an example, Miss Sarah Linkhart.”

Sarah froze where she stood. Somehow the madman knew her.

“Miss. Linkhart here, found her fame and fortune from her business, FairCo. ‘A company aimed at bringing about a truly fair trading relationship between our great country and those of the third world.’, or so that’s what the brochures say. Miss. Linkhart’s company bunks up prices of their ‘fair trade’ products in the name of higher earnings for the African manufacturers. How much money of that do the families of the African manufacturers see? Most would have to save for a month to afford a pack of penny sweets. She puts forward a mask of generosity in order to exploit and wreak the benefits from the honest and needy.”

“Wha-... How did you?...“ Stuttered Sarah. "I am a business woman!" she yelled finally finding her tongue. "I brought business to areas of poverty!"

"You exploited the innocent and desperate to make a larger net profit! The rest of you share similar stories so I won’t bore you with individual details. As I’ve already said, the punishment for greed is to by be boiled alive in oil in hell for all eternity. I offer you, in comparison, a better deal. As you may have noticed, there is a giant hill of money sitting before you. I have drained dry each and every one of your financial accounts, on and off shore. This money is yours.”

Just as the last words had hit their ears, fire rained down from the ceiling, onto the middle of the mound. The money went up like dry wood and spread downwards like a red river. After another stunned silence there was an out raw. Everyone was yelling and scrambling for the money, all grabbing fistfuls, desperately trying to protect their flammable riches from the fire.

“Silence!” Boomed the Irishman, his voice more serious now.

Some stopped to listen but most continued to work frantically. “I put to you, a dilemma. Watch your wealth burn before your eyes and you will survive! Give up your sinful ways now and forever or else perish and burn in the very riches you’ve treasured so dearly. See once and for all that attachment to material possessions will ultimately end in your own damnation! The vault door will open the second the last note turns to ash. As you know this money has not gone through the legal channels, you all saw to that, so there is no insurance, there is no second chance. Once this money burns it is gone for good. To assist you with your decision I give you two objects each. The first is a fireproof blanket. Cover yourself, sit back and watch the fireworks. The second is a fire extinguisher. Make your choice.”

The speaker went silent. Sarah looked around frantically and then spotted the objects in the corner of the vault.

“They’re over there!” she shrieked, desperation inked into every syllable. Every one of the business men scrambled off of the mound and dashed to the corner of the vault. Sarah was shocked to see that half a dozen grabbed the blankets. Without hesitation she snatched a fire extinguisher and a blanket. She encased herself as best she could. She turned to see the top of the giant mound ablaze. Smoke filling the vault, and her lungs, and the light was blinding. She ducked low to avoid the fumes and ran towards the fiery notes. She began to climb the mountain, heading towards the flaming centre. It wasn't too late. They could still save more than half if they acted quickly. Others had beaten her to the summit and were beginning to make a circle around the site of the fire. The heat was strong but their determination was stronger.

“Okay let’s do it!" Someone yelled.

Then came the sound of an almighty explosion. The fire leaped upwards like a predatorial creature to attack one of the men. Flames swelled around him and crying yells subsided.

That was so strange. It was like he’d exploded, thought Sarah puzzled.

Nobody rushed to the man's aid but just stepped over the charcoaled remains to encase the circle again.

Another few explosions sounded from the other side of the mound causing the fire to spread even faster now.

What was exploding? Thought Sarah worriedly as she climbed higher and higher.

Then there was another boom closer, a man now stood on fire meters from Sarah. She’d seen what had happened this time. The fire extinguisher had exploded as he’d begun to squeeze its handle. Sarah ran her finger over a drop protruding from the mouth of her extinguisher. She lifted it to her nose and smelt it. Gasoline.

These fire extinguishers had been filled with high explosives. Sarah’s heart plummeted. The Irishman had no intention of letting their money survive. It was all about whether the business men would try to save the money or not. This must be a sick twist on being 'boiled alive' that the Irishman had talked about.

Sarah had to get off the hill, now. She turned and was confronted by a wall of burning money and business suits. The heat was so overwhelming that the sweat was evaporating straight from her head as soon as it was produced.

A frightened looking Mr. Lin stood a few feet away from her.

Sarah turned to run from him. Why waste time explaining this to him? Who was he to her? The money catching fire was inevitable now. She simply had to save herself. When she turned to run however she realized that she was now surrounded. From all sides the ocean of flames encased Mr. Lin and hers small island of as yet not ignited notes.

It was then that Sarah realized what Mr. Lin was about to do. He hadn’t worked out about the gasoline and seeing that the bottom of his Armani trouser leg had begun to catch fire he pointed his extinguisher at it.

"No!" Sarah screamed.

But it was far too late for Sarah to do anything and with the biggest explosion yet, Mr. Lin and Sarah both burst into flames.

Gabriel felt hands running all over his body. People were talking hurriedly all around him. Screams and shrieks pierced his eardrums.

He tried to open his eyes, to see who was yelling, to see the reason for all of the commotion, but he could not lift them. His eyes may as well have been iron girders.

His body felt numb and broken. A sickly smell of iron invaded his nostrils. Was that blood? His clothes were drenched in what felt revoltingly like blood.

Gabriel was lifted onto a stretcher and moved several meters before getting lifted again into the back of a vehicle. A loud siren sounded above him. This seemed to snap consciousness back into Gabriel but he was too weak to alert anyone else to this fact.

“Incredible!” said a woman’s voice. “Are we sure this one fell from the roof too? He has a few broken bones but doesn't have a scratch on him. His skin is perfectly intact.”

“What’s the situation?” The voice came from the radio that was pinned to the woman’s belt. She lifted it to her mouth.

“There were two teenagers at the site, one male, Gabriel Hawks, around sixteen years old and one female, Molly Caparelli, around thirteen. The police told us that witnesses saw the two fall from a helicopter that had just taken off from the roof of the bank. They fell near twenty stories and landed on a car. The girl has severe injuries and will have to be rushed into surgery. Her injuries including a broken arm, three broken ribs and a fractured wrists-” The woman’s report was cut short.

“Wait, she’s alive? She fell from that height and survived?” The radio voice sounded astonished.

“I know it’s a miracle! The only logical answer that could explain this is how they were found. The boy was wrapped around the girl and so took most of the blow. But here’s the amazing bit, the boy has barely any injuries on him. From his scrapes and cuts I’d of guessed he’d fallen off of his bike, at worst. The first policemen on the scene reported that ‘the boy looked like every bone in his body had been shattered’... ” Neither the woman nor the radio voice talked for a long moment. “Something very strange has happened today.”

Gabriel wondered why on earth he was in an ambulance. Then, like a slide show in his brain, his memories flew back into his brain.

“Molly!” said Gabriel in a strained voice as he shot upright and opened his eyes.

The female paramedic let out a startled yelp. Gabriel began trying to remove the tubes that were sticking into his arms.

“Calm down!” The woman said sharply

“Where’s my sister?” Gabriel yelled in a hoarse voice.

“She’s on the way to St. John’s hospital right now. That’s where we’re going now. Please, you have to calm down.”

Gabriel slowly stopped thrashing around and lay back on the stretcher panting.

The ambulance drove for another couple of minutes and then stopped. Gabriel jumped to his feet and smashed through the doors of the ambulance before the medic could stop him. He spun round in all directions. They were in the car park just outside the hospital. He couldn’t see Molly anywhere. He was seconds away from going into the hospital when an ambulance came streaking into the car park and came to a sharp halt near Gabriel. Doctors and nurses came whizzing out of the hospital and pulled a small stretcher from the ambulance. Laying on it was the limp body of his little sister. Gabriel’s heart plummeted. The world seemed to be crumbling from underneath him. Molly’s clothes were covered in dark red blood. Tubes stuck out all over her body. A mask delivering oxygen covered the majority of her tiny face. Gabriel felt useless. All he could do was stand there and watch these strangers carry Molly into the hospital. He stood there for what felt like hours. It was only when he felt the snow on the floor seeping through his socks that he became aware for the first time of two things. Firstly, he’d somehow lost both of his shoes and secondly he was alive. He had taken the full impact of a gargantuan fall and was fine. What was happening to him?

Gabriel barely noticed a hand gently touch his shoulder.

“Come on sweetheart,” said a woman’s voice in his ear. “Let’s get you inside.”

Gabriel was guided by the woman into the hospital and put in a chair in the middle of a hallway outside where Molly’s surgery was taking place. The woman rapped Gabriel in a blanket and left him there to wait. Each second seemed like an hour, each hour like a week. But there he waited. He heard somewhere once that time eases all pain. Sitting there he realised what a load of crap that was. With every tick his dread intensified. With every tock his heart pumped painfully harder.

He felt something bulging in his pocket and reached into it. He pulled out the book that Molly had given him for his birthday. It was wet and had spots of blood on it. Gabriel sat looking through each page for several hours.

All of a sudden he heard movement and the door in front of Gabriel opened. A doctor stepped out. His face was infuriatingly indifferent and his eyes weren’t giving away anything.

“Hello Gabriel.” The doctor said with a deep and calm voice.

Gabriel didn’t ask how he knew his name. He didn’t say anything. He probably couldn’t have spoken even if he’d tried. In the silence Gabriel felt like his thoughts were being used as a rope in a tug of war. One side wanted to be frozen in this moment and never hear what the doctor was going to say and the other wanted to scream ‘Tell me!’ at the top of his lungs. He couldn’t look the doctor in the eye. So he settled for a starring match with the doctor’s spotless shoes.

“She’s going to be okay Gabriel.” said the doctor with a smile.

The breathe Gabriel had been holding for god knows how long escaped from his mouth in the form of a staggered whimper. A tear trickled down his cheek and dangled off of his chin and then fell to the floor.

"Thank you." Gabriel whispered. He could sense that the doctor hadn't finished yet.

"Your X-rays are back." The doctor paused, seemingly unable to string his next sentence together. "Can you tell me about your last few weeks please Gabriel?"

"What about my last few weeks?" asked Gabriel, confused.

"Can you tell me about any other trauma you've been through, this month, maybe last?" The doctor asked.

Gabriel thought for a long time before answering. "The last time I was hurt, before this, was about six months ago in a fight at school. Why?"

"How many of your bones were broken in this fight?" The doctor sounded like he was choosing each word carefully.

"None." Gabriel answered, puzzled. "I've never broken a bone before."

The doctor stood there for what seemed like minutes to Gabriel. He had a look that reminded Gabriel of Ms Clark. Ms Clark would always know when Gabriel was lying about something. She'd stare at him with interrogation eyes until eventually he would crack under the pressure and admit to the lie. The doctor stared at Gabriel with the same interrogation eyes. Gabriel wasn't lying though. He had never broken a bone in his body. Why would he lie about that?

Eventually the doctor spoke. His words turned Gabriel ice cold.

"Gabriel, as I can see from these X-rays, there's not a bone in your body that you haven't broken."

"What do you mean?" Gabriel choked out, stunned. He began to look over his body as though he'd see a shard of arm bone sticking out.

The doctor showed him the X-rays and acknowledged specifically what he called hard callus; extra thick regions on the bones.

"These thicker portions of bone are the site of breakages." the doctor explained.

"So I did break some bones in the fall." Gabriel concluded.

"What you need to understand Gabriel is that these regions are the evidence of repaired bone breaks. There's no way that you could have gotten these today because it takes a considerable amount of time for these to form."

"How long?" Gabriel asked.

"Months." the doctor replied bluntly.

Again the doctor gave him the interrogation eyes.

Gabriel was speechless. He ran over this new sequence of events in his head. So he hadn't been hurt at all in falling from twenty stories from a bank. Instead he'd broken every bone in his body months previous in a way that he had absolutely no recollection of. His brain hurt.

"I'm going to leave you for a while. If there's anything at all you want to tell me just ask one of the nurses and I'll shoot right over." The doctor left the room then.

Molly was moved from the operation theatre to a large ward filled with old people sleeping. Someone got Gabriel some clothes to wear. He sat in a chair by Molly’s side all day and slept in the chair when his eye lids got too heavy to hold up.

When he woke it took him a while before he realised that Molly and him weren’t alone. There was a man standing over Molly. Gabriel instinctively jumped to his feet. The man was short and round with a thick black moustache. He wore a suit with a thick leather jacket.

“Get away from her!” Gabriel shouted.

The man didn’t move. He was starring above Molly, at the old wooden cross that hung over Molly’s bed.

“Who are you?” Gabriel demanded.

“Strange.” The man said through his moustache.

Unless the man’s name was actually Mr. Strange, which was highly unlikely, he must not have heard Gabriel.

“What’s strange?” Gabriel asked. The man didn’t hear him again so he repeated it, stressing every syllable. “What is strange?”

“Strange how this is the only bed with a cross hanging over it.” The man finally said.

Gabriel didn’t know what he’d expected the man to say but it wasn’t that. He looked around the ward and sure enough Molly’s was the only one who had a cross hanging over her bed.

“Just an observation.” the man said. “Anyway, Mr. Hawks, I’ve got some questions to ask you.”

“Questions to ask me?” Gabriel repeated. “I’ve got a couple of questions myself actually. Like who are you?”

The man turned his eyes on Gabriel’s for the first time. “My name, Mr. Hawks, is Sergeant Robert Brody.”

Gabriel took a step backwards. A police officer. He hadn’t expected that either.

“I need to ask you some questions about yesterday.” Sergeant Brody said. Gabriel hadn’t taken one second to think about what he’d tell everyone. His mind raced off ahead. He couldn’t tell the police what had happened to them. He’d be carried away to some sort of mental institute and strapped into a straight jacket. Even if his words were proven true the government wouldn’t just let him carry on his life as usual. They’d dissect him apart like a car for spare parts. Molly would call that a catch thirty three, no wait, catch twenty two. Yeah, that was it. A lose-lose situation. He’d have to lie and lie well. But how could he explain anything about yesterday that didn’t involve the supernatural? He looked up into the Sergeant’s dark eyes.

“What do you need to know?” Gabriel asked with a shaky voice.

“I’d like to hear your side of what happened yesterday morning.” He gave a crooked smile. “In as much detail as you can remember.”

Gabriel opened his mouth but no words presented themselves to the forefront of his brain. Then he realised something that sent a chill down his spine. The bank was top security. So, therefore, must have cameras all over the place. In the lobby, on the stairs and almost certainly on the roof.

Sergeant Brody must know everything that had happened. He was trying to get Gabriel to make a confession. There were probably people with strait jackets waiting just outside the room, waiting to pounce. Gabriel began weighing up his options.

“Can’t the CCTV tell you that?” asked Gabriel as he backed slowly towards the window. They were on the sixth floor. He’d survived higher.

Sergeant Brody gave Gabriel a look that seemed as though he was searching for a sign of concealed truths.

“Ah yes the CCTV.” The Sergeant said quietly. “Strange.”

He knows. He must do. Why is he torturing me? Gabriel thought desperately.

“What’s strange?” asked Gabriel in the most off hand voice he could muster, the window directly behind him now. He’d have to go on the run. Somehow he’d get the message to Molly that he was okay.

“Every day this year the CCTV cameras were fully operational, each recording showing the bank in all its splendour.” The Sergeant said, as though to himself. “Yet yesterday there was nothing but static. Strange. So I need to know everything that happened.” He starred at Gabriel with a kind of hunger in his eyes like he was longing to hear something. Gabriel just stood there frozen with his mouth open.

“Why?... How? What about footprints or other evidence, like blood for instance?” He’d suddenly remembered the patch of blood he’d left on the roof. The clothes he’d ripped off.

“Nope. No snow was on the roof at all. A full and roaring blizzard yet not a flake of snow lay on that roof. Yet another strange development.”

That proved Gabriel’s suspicion. There had been a cover-up. Was it the winged people? He pulled his thoughts together. The tape showed nothing. There was no tangible evidence of anything that happened on that roof. Gabriel would have to come up with a lie, fast. He closed his mouth.

“Well, it’s all quite hazy to be honest with you. One minute my sister Molly and I were lining up in the bank and the next we had a mask over our heads and were being carried up stairs. I remember hearing ‘hey I’ve got some hostages’ or something. Then we got loaded into the helicopter and that’s when the robbers turned on each other. One of them was yelling to the other to give him the money. Guns were fired. Next minute I was falling. It must have been two stories, maybe even three.” Gabriel tried to make his disbelief sound genuine.

“Three stories you say?”

“Yeah they must have lost height whilst they were shooting. I mean it’s not like I could have survived a fall from any higher.” Gabriel gave his best efforts into a chuckle. “My sister must have fallen from higher. Lucky we landed on a car, isn’t it?”

Gabriel forced himself to stare straight into Brody’s eyes. Brody didn’t talk for a long moment.

“Yes, very lucky.” Brody said with a smile. “There are, however, some inconsistencies between yours and the bank robbers’ reports.”

“Oh? They survived then?” Gabriel said with a shocked tone.

“Yes. Their helicopter crashed on the roof of the bank. They sustained only minor injuries. Michael Fisher was the name of the man in charge of the heist. His report was again very strange.” Brody didn’t break eye contact with Gabriel. “Mr. Fisher’s testimony involved winged men and women. He gave vivid descriptions of angel-like beings being present on the roof. The main angelic creature he spoke about, Mr. Hawks, was you.” Gabriel’s whole body went numb as he tried to look astonished.

“Me? Wings?” He let out a chuckle then revolved on the spot. He held his hands out as he said “Nope, no wings Sergeant.”

Sergeant Brody pulled out a chain from around his neck. It was golden with a matching golden cross attached to it.

“I’m a deeply religious man, Mr Hawks. I’m also an extremely good detective with extremely good gut instincts. At the moments these said gut instincts are telling me that there more to you than meets the eye.”

Brody and Gabriel stood rooted to the spot starring unblinkingly into each other’s eyes. Then a nurse came in and broke the tension that had been building to the point of bursting.

“Are you done in here Sergeant? Only Gabriel and Molly’s parents are waiting downstairs.” The nurse said.

“My parents?” Gabriel asked dumbly.

“Yes Gabriel. They’re waiting downstairs with the reporters and news crew.”

“The what and the what?” gasped Gabriel.

The nurse, looking bewildered, handed Gabriel the news paper that was sitting on the table opposite the chair where Gabriel had been sitting in. It must have been delivered whilst he was asleep.

“Turn to page four.” The nurse said.

Gabriel turned the pages over till he was on page four. Gabriel and Molly’s picture starred back at him in printed black and white. Written in big black letters above the picture was the title, ‘Mr. Indestructible’.

Mr Indestructible

Hands trembling, Gabriel read through the article quickly. It gave vague details about the bank robbery itself but vast amounts of information the bank robbers. It named Gabriel and Molly as hostages. It also mentioned their parents who gave a heartfelt quote about the near death experiences of their son and daughter. Gabriel highly doubted their remarks. Especially considering that they were in the building and hadn’t yet come to see Molly. Gabriel’s fists tightened around the paper at their words. He read on, finally getting to the heart of the article.

“Gabriel and Molly Fairway..." Gabriel clenched his jaw. He hated it when people called him Fairway. "...were carried to the helicopter. After this, details of what happened are still unclear. However, what we do know is that the robbers had only just made it off of the roof of the bank when a fight broke out amongst them. Gabriel and Molly somehow fell out of the helicopter at a staggering height of over one hundred feet..." Gabriel did a quick estimate in his head. It was around eighty five feet, not one hundred. "...surely to their deaths. But then something miraculous happened. Both Gabriel and Molly survived. That isn’t the most bizarre part of this enthralling tale. Molly received serious injuries and was in urgent need of surgery whereas Gabriel Fairway came off completely unscathed. This prompted the nation to nickname Gabriel as ‘Mr. Indestructible’."

Mr. Indestructible? It sounded like he was a superhero. Gabriel didn’t like this at all. It was enough trouble trying to convince Sergeant Brody, let alone the whole nation.

“Come on, dear.” said the nurse.

Gabriel walked with the nurse out of the room without a second glance at Sergeant Brody. He, Gabriel, was escorted downstairs. As the automatic doors to the front of the hospital opened Gabriel was bombarded with flashing lights and roaring applause. The street was full of people. There was a microphone on a stand in front of Gabriel. Gathered directly in front of the microphone were the reporters. Behind the reporters were normal civilians that had been cordoned off by policemen and a barrier. Some held banners reading ‘Mr. Indestructible’. Others had banners with the Superman 'S' logo. Gabriel spotted one man that was dressed in all tin foil and wore a strange hat that had a TV antenna attached. This man was holding a banner that read ‘they walk among us’.

Gabriel stared open mouthed at the site. Beside the microphone stood a very attractive man and a gorgeous woman that Gabriel hadn’t noticed at first. Cecilia and Braxton Fairway. Mum and Dad.

Cecilia ran over to Gabriel, dramatically wiping away a tear from her eye, and gave Gabriel an almost real-feeling hug. Gabriel noticed she was tilting her head away from him. This, most likely, was to avoid her messing up her makeup. She squeezed him tight and then let go. As she stood she exclaimed loudly, sounding more like Dr. Frankenstein than a mother, “My son is alive!”

Then Braxton strode forward briskly. “Son,” he boomed so the microphone could hear “I’ve been so worried!”

He then mimicked Cecilia and hugged Gabriel firmly. The crowd erupted in applause.

Braxton guided Gabriel over to the microphone. The reporters immediately started barking questions in their direction.

“Please, please. My son Gabe has been through a lot and so I will be talking on his behalf.” Braxton said, sympathetically.

“Cecilia and I could not be more relieved that our Gabe and little Mole are okay.”

Gabe and Mole? Gabriel’s jaw tightened.

“When we heard the news we of course flew straight home. As many of you know, we are currently in a hard negotiation with Tokyo in regards to making our business, Fairway Limited, a more green and earth friendly business.”

The crowd applauded even louder. Braxton talked for several moments and at great length about his business and its current dealings. Gabriel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Typical Mum and Dad, using what had happened to Molly as a way to publicize their business.

“Thank you, thank you.” Braxton said as they crow applauded again. “But this day is not about Cecilia and Me, it’s about Gabe and the events that unfolded yesterday. Now I’ve talked to Gabe, giving him all the emotional support that I could. What happened yesterday was strange but by no means supernatural.” As the crowd started to give an upset grumble he chuckled, showing off his dazzling teeth.

“I’m sorry to disappoint everyone. Yes, Gabriel was taken hostage, but no, he did not fall from the roof. There was no death defying fall or any paranormal events. He stumbled down the steps outside the bank whilst being taken to the helicopter. The robbers, obviously in a bit of a hurry, left him there. Mole, however,” Braxton took a moment to wipe away a nonexistent tear from his eye. “did fall from the helicopter. We believe it was as they were taking off. The pilot, it seems, lost control. Somehow in the scramble Mole fell through an open door and landed on a car.”

“But there are witnesses stating that the bank robbers took off from the roof!” shouted a podgy reporter in the front row.

“I’m afraid that they are incorrect on that point. I don’t mean to call anyone a liar, no, by all means no. But the one thing that we know for certain is that the helicopter took off from the ground. I understand that this has been a great ordeal for everyone, not just us, so it is completely understandable that people may be... confused.” Braxton paused, waiting for more questions.

“What is Molly’s situation?” shouted another reporter further into the crowd.

“Mole, thank God, will make a full recovery. Though she is not awake now, the doctor’s say that she will pull through.” He smiled even more dazzling now. “Cecilia and I have been by her bedside all night-”

“Liar!” Gabriel screamed. He had had enough of their lies. “You haven’t been to see Molly!”

There was a stunned silence where Cecilia tried to pull Gabriel away from the microphone, passing it off as another loving hug. Gabriel shrugged her away staring fixed eyed at Braxton.

“You don’t care about us! We’re just here to make you look like you have a warm side. You haven’t talked to us in months. Molly deserves better than this!” Gabriel yelled.

Braxton stared back at Gabriel with pure venom in his eyes and then replaced it with a smile that showed quite clearly pity. He turned back to the crowd.

“My son has been through a very dramatic experience, bless him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Braxton turned back to Gabriel and said loudly in a condescending tone, like talking to a Grandparent with dementia.

“We waited up all night with you, don’t you remember Gabe?”

Gabriel was speechless. He turned around and began to walk back to the hospital doors. Then, spinning on the spot faced Braxton again. He wanted to scream something that would put them in their place, something that would have them drop to their knees and weep uncontrollably but all that came out of Gabriel's mouth was “Her name’s Molly!”

He then turned back around, feeling like a child having a tantrum, and went back up to Molly’s room. He then pulled the curtains closed around her section.

Gabriel was so angry. He felt like ripping the furniture to shreds and like breaking walls to rubble. He stood there shaking. He clenched jaw and his fists as he let out a loud moan. He then realised he’d been squeezing his hands too hard because they all of a sudden hurt. He relaxed them and sat down in a lump on the chair by Molly's side. But the pain didn’t ease, instead it intensified. They grew hot, really hot. He jumped back onto his feet and looked down at them. They weren’t on fire. There was no sign of anything hot anywhere around them. He couldn’t see any reason why they were hurting like this. He began flailing them around and blowing on them. He ran over to the sink and turned the tap on full blast. Water sprayed in every direction. As it hit his hands the water turned to steam. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The pain subsided until eventually it stopped, along with the steam. He stood there staring in disbelief at his hands. What was happening to him?

“Thank you Miss, yes it is an original. You have a very good eye.” came a friendly voice from behind the curtain. Gabriel spun on the spot to see Braxton opening the curtains. He was running his hand down the front of his suit whilst a mesmerized young nurse stood next to him, open mouthed with admiration. Cecilia stood next to him with a blinding smile fixed on her face.

“Many thanks for showing us to Mole’s bed.” Cecilia said as she drew the curtains on the nurse’s face. As they turned away both their smiles fell from their face’s like they’d simultaneously trodden in something grotesque.

“Pretending like she knows what a Brioni suit looks like.” said Braxton with a scoff.

“She couldn’t spot one if it hit her in her spotty little face.” agreed Cecilia.

"You know it's just a curtain, not a door right?" Gabriel asked them. "The nurse can probably still hear you."

Gabriel was just beginning to wonder if they actually knew that he was in the room when Braxton turned to him with a look that sent a chill down Gabriel’s spine. He took a step backwards as Braxton advanced towards him like a bull about to charge.

“What was that?” Braxton spat the words into Gabriel's face. Braxton spoke in a horse whisper so nobody on the other side of the curtains could hear. He was an inch away from Gabriel’s face, bearing down at him. Gabriel didn’t say anything.

“You should be kissing my shoes right now, boy. We just cleared up that huge mess that she and you made.” Braxton pointed lazily in Molly's direction.

“What do you mean the mess we made?” Gabriel asked, astounded.

“I know your game you know. You’re trying to make us look bad to the press. After all we’ve don’t for you.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You think we’re stupid don’t you?” Braxton voice was getting louder now. “You and that little bitch are trying to sabotage our new deal with Tokyo.”

“You dare talk about her like that. I swear I’ll-” Gabriel screamed and raised his forehead so it was now touching Braxton’s.

“You’ll what exactly?” Braxton spoke with a fury Gabriel had never heard before. Gabriel’s hands were beginning to burn again. Suddenly, the curtains were thrust open. It was Ms Clark.

“Is everything okay Gabriel?” She asked with her harsh German accent. This was very odd Gabriel thought. She was in charge of looking after Gabriel but Braxton was her boss. Surely she should automatically be on his side. But as she stood there, her sharp eagle eyes fixed on Braxton, Gabriel noticed something. Ms Clark was looking Braxton up and down in the same way she would when sparing with Gabriel. She was trying to decide which was the best way to take him down.

“Yes everything’s fine Ms Clark.” Answered Cecilia, jumping up from the chair she’d been sitting in whilst texting. Braxton broke contact with Gabriel’s head and put an arm round Gabriel. Ms Clark continued to stare.

“Yes that’s right. Gabe is just a bit flustered that’s all." Braxton began but Ms Clark interrupted.

"His name is Gabriel."

A long silence followed this.

"I’d like you to take him home now please, Ms Clark.” Braxton commanded.

“No. I want to stay with Molly.” Gabriel said with a firm voice.

“Maybe it is best if you get something to eat.” Ms Clark said with the most sympathetic voice Gabriel had heard her use. She walked up to Gabriel and put an arm around him. “Come, I’m sure you’re hungry.”

As though it were on cue Gabriel’s stomach let out an almighty roar.

“We’ll wait with her.” said Braxton with another lazy gesture at Molly.

Gabriel gave him a scowl. He walked over to Molly and kissed her on the forehead.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, I swear.” Gabriel whispered in her ear.

Ms. Clark took Gabriel downstairs and into the cafeteria. After having a big bowl of tomato soup he went back upstairs. Molly was alone. Braxton and Cecilia had left. Gabriel wasn’t surprised.

Gabriel and Ms. Clark sat by her side day after day. None of the nurses asked them to leave. After the third night they were given two beds that weren’t being used. Gabriel had never realized how interesting Ms. Clark was. It was probably because she was paid to tell him to do things that Gabriel had never thought he actually liked her. But he did. They sat talking together for hours. They played card games together and watched programmes on Molly’s television. She went out to get Gabriel sweets and goodies. It was clear that Ms Clark blamed herself for not being there to protect Gabriel and Molly. Ms. Clark even showed him a couple of really good magic tricks.

However, the most interesting part of Ms. Clark was the stories she had. She talked at great length about missions she’d undergone. Stories involving narrow escapes from capture, incredibly close getaways from assassins and amazing break-ins to top-secret military places all over the globe.

Gabriel's favorite story Ms Clark called The Resurrection in Krakow. Ms Clark had gone undercover in a Polish mob run by two brothers called the Stasko Twins. Her assignment was to get intel on the brothers. However, Ms Clark was double crossed and the Stasko Twins ordered her to be killed. Ms Clark was shot three times in the chest by a hitman whilst at dinner with the Twins. Only thing was that she wasn't really shot. Ms Clark had realized that she was about to be found out. She also knew that the Twins would never stop hunting her till she was dead. So arranged what she called a Switch. It had never been done before. She got another agent to take out the hitman that she knew would be the first on the list to kill her. The agent then took the hitman's place and agreed to shoot Ms Clark. However he only used blanks and Ms Clark wore a vest that is used in filming to fake being shot. Agents posing as policemen were then called in and for all the Twins knew Ms Clark had just been killed in front of their eyes.

Gabriel would be fixated on her for hours. He felt he could never have done any of the wild things that she had. But Ms. Clark said ‘you’ll never know what you’re capable of until you’re forced into making a split second decision with someone’s life in your hands.’

Two weeks had gone by and Molly was still unconscious. Gabriel hadn’t left her bedside in all that time but on the fourteenth night Ms. Clark made Gabriel realise that it was time to go home. He found it incredibly hard to leave Molly. He swore to her that he would be back every day to see her.

Outside the hospital were still a lot of fanatical people with banners waiting for a chance to see the Mr Indestructible. So Ms Clark and Gabriel snuck out of the cafeteria exit and got a taxi.

The apartment was eerily quiet without Molly there. Gabriel thought this was odd because even when she was here she didn’t make much noise. It was Gabriel that would sit around playing his guitar or watching television. Molly would sit reading long novels about romantic or heroic figures. Maybe it was just Gabriel that was the reason for the quiet. He still wasn’t himself.

Since Gabriel had got home he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the robbery. His brain buzzed with unexplained questions. Who were the men in suits? Who was the winged man? How had Gabriel and Molly survived that fall? He had a twisting feeling in his stomach that made him think that very soon he’d have his questions answered.

Whilst in hospital Gabriel had been dying to test out two things. Firstly he’d try the easier of the two. Gabriel went into the kitchen and grabbed a sharp cleavers knife and a box of matches from the draw. He concealed it under his top until he was in his room. He closed the door behind him. He took the knife out. He rotated the small blade, watching how the light reflected off. Then he struck a match and began running the flame along the surface of the blade until it was hot. Time to find out if he was indestructible after all.

He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and grabbed the blade of the knife so the sharpened side pressed tightly into the inside of his palm. He went to pull on the knife but fear got the better of him and he dropped the knife. He calmed himself and tried again. He managed to not drop the knife but through fear again he had loosened his grip on the blade. He attempted it again and with one swift tug he yanked the blade out of his hand, slicing through his hand like butter.

Blood flew out the gash and dripped all over his carpet. Gabriel’s hand throbbed with pain. A deep gash was on his palm. What was he thinking?! What was he expecting to happen? His idea had been ridiculous. The image of his hand being impervious to the knife, maybe even braking the blade, were eradicated from his mind.

He held his bloody hand up and sprinted to the door. As he went to turn the handle he looked at his hand. The pain had gone, replaced by a warm tingling sensation. The gash seemed to be closing up before his eyes. The skin sealed over until all that remained was the blood that leaked out.

Gabriel stared open mouthed. He prodded and poked the place where the gash had been. His skin was almost fully healed. He did notice a slight scar had formed. This explained the police report he’d heard in the ambulance on the way to St. John’s. He had said that Gabriel was broken when he’d fallen. This must have been true. Then he thought about what the doctor had said. About how Gabriel's breakages looked months old. This was also true. They looked months old because Gabriel had healed incredibly fast. So it wasn’t that he couldn’t be destroyed. He was not a Mr Indestructible. He was not bulletproof like Superman. He could be injured but he could come back. Gabriel could fix himself.

Okay one problem down and now for the harder of the two. He was going to try to fly.

Gabriel took his shirt off. Better to take it off now, rather than let it rip like his school top had on the bank roof. He stood there and tried to force out the wings. He concentrated and tensed his whole body as though he could push them out. After several minutes of straining he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He just looked constipated. He collapsed back onto his bed, red faced and panting.

Why couldn’t he do it? Gabriel thought. It had been so easy before. He thought back to when they’d sprouted first, on the roof of the bank. They had come out by themselves. Gabriel hadn’t done anything to make them appear. But something must have caused it.

He tried to relive what he’d been feeling. He had been angry and afraid. Maybe that was it. Maybe they would sprout out whenever he was in stress. Like a defence mechanism. No, that can’t be it. If that were the case then why did they not come to his aid when Molly and he were falling to what he had thought was certain death? Falling speedily from a giant building, surely, would have been the perfect time to find yourself with wings, wouldn’t it?

It must be something else. He paced his room, allowing his mind to wonder back to that day. He had been running up the stairs, burst through the doors and onto the roof. Then he’d made eye contact with that, thing.

The image of the man’s cold, deep eyes suddenly was thrown to the forefront of Gabriel’s mind and he was forced to the floor in pain. The pain was coming from his shoulder blades. He shook his head and he was snapped out of it.

Gabriel climbed back up to his feet. So that was it. The wings were a reaction to those men. Something in Gabriel’s mind must have known what they were. Like an subconscious instinct in his head had sensed danger. It was like fight or flight. The flight part being more literal now than it had ever been.

Gabriel began to focus on the image of the two men and almost at once the pain came back to his shoulder blades. This time he forced himself to keep going.

He looked over to the mirror again. He could see the skins on both his shoulder blades were being sliced open. Something white, thin and sharp came from both. They forced their way out of the wound and feathers sprouted unnaturally fast. Eventually the two new limbs became recognizable as wings.

Gabriel’s wings both stretched until they were at least three times the length of outstretched arms. The skin on his shoulders seemed to mould into the flesh on his wings until they were indistinguishable from one another, almost like they’d always been there.

Gabriel stood staring at his wings. A boyish smile spread across his face. They were beautiful.

How was this possible? He reached up and stroked the feathers. They were soft and smooth. He had to try them out, right now. A rush of excitement shot through his veins.

Deciding he should test their strength first, Gabriel moved the wings downwards gently. He was thrust upwards with incredible force, smashing into the ceiling, then falling back down to the floor in a heap. Shakily he got upright.

“Gabriel, what was that?” yelled Ms. Clark from the other side of his bedroom door. He jumped to his feet and dashed to the door, locking it just as Ms. Clark tried to turn the handle to come in.

“Nothing, nothing, I just dropped some books.” Gabriel said in the calmest voice he could muster. There was a silence for what seemed like minutes before she replied.

“Okay then. Most of the food in the apartment has expired. I need to go get some more from the shops. Do you want to come with me?”

"No I'm tired I think I'm going to go get a nap." Gabriel said in reply.

"That's fine. I'll be back in a few hours."

Gabriel waited till the footsteps had died away before moving from the door. Right okay so maybe it was a stupid idea to test them whilst inside.

He moved over to his window. Big flakes of snow were falling gracefully from the sky, adding more layers to that which already covered the streets below.

Gabriel slid the window open and was hit hard in the face by the cold air. He took in a deep, chilling breath and climbed out to the window ledge. His mind stupidly thought of a documentary Molly had watched once. Where adult birds will kick their chicks out of the nest when they're old enough to fly. They would sink or float.

He tried not to think about just how idiotic what he was doing was as he counted to three and then jumped.

For several, heart wrenching moments he fell speedily towards the white ground. Gabriel spiralled downwards through the air wishing to every god he could think of to save him from his impending death. Why had he jumped out of his bedroom window before testing his wings on a lower ground first?

Then, it was as though Gabriel’s natural instinct had kicked in. His wings began to flap fiercely and he started to level out. Gradually his acceleration towards the ground decreased. His fall slowed until eventually he found he was level with a window about seven floors from the floor.

Gabriel looked from left to right in utter amazement. His wings were sweeping powerfully up and down. This was effortless, he thought. It was as easy as walking, as instinctual as breathing. He was flying, actually flying.

As he hovered on the seventh floor he looked into the window he was currently floating next to. Illuminated by the television they had been glued to seconds earlier were the astounded faces of an old couple sitting on a sofa, fixed eyes on the miraculously airborne Gabriel. Food from the dinner they'd been eating dangled stupidly from their mouths.

Gabriel gave them an awkward wave and then pushed his wings against his weight and was rising mightily into the air. The building, he’d just been falling from, ran across his vision as if he were running up the side of it. He pushed hard against the cold winter air and was then soaring high above the roof tops of the London.

London’s lights, far below Gabriel, glowed like fallen stars. The buildings stretched off far into the horizon, blending into the white and cloudy sky so subtly that not even the most skilled of artist couldn't imitate its majestic beauty. It was a metropolitan wonderland. Gabriel rocketed over the tops of sky scrapers. He felt he could fly like this forever and never tire. He could go anywhere, anywhere in the world.

Gabriel slowed down until he was hovering again. The snow gently hit his bare chest and as he got an idea. He turned his head to the heavens. It was a ceiling of white and grey clouds.

Gabriel began to bolt upwards, climbing higher and higher. The snow fall seemed to intensify, as if determined to stop him. He hurtled upwards until eventually he broke through the layer of cloud and was through to the other side. It was a different world.

The clouds stretched off into the horizon. Gabriel was cold but didn’t care. It had only just occurred to him once he was up there that his body shouldn’t have been able to cope with this altitude and lack of oxygen. It seems, fortunately, his body could cope. That could have been bad, he thought as he looked down.

He flew between the clouds, reaching out to touch one. It made his hand wet. He smiled and then soared off. Rising and diving. Swirling so much he momentarily lost track of up and down. This was the most incredible feeling he’d ever had. He watched the sun dive into the cloud. The reds and oranges were replaced by dark blues. Gabriel had never seen so many stars in his life. Free of light pollution he could now see them all. Scattered about the sky like twinkling diamonds. There was an enormous full moon tonight that took up most of the sky. The moon lit a silver floor beneath his now useless, dangling feet. He had to be dreaming. After several intense pinches however he had to conclude that this was real.

Gabriel stayed in his paradise for what must have been hours before he realised his eyes lids were getting heavy. He took one last look at his newly found heaven before diving below the clouds again.

His heart sank as he realized he’d strayed away from the London. All that lay below him were snowy fields. He took out his mobile phone and turned on the navigational application. The map of roads on his phone matched perfectly the ones below his feet. The arrow on the screen pointed him to a road. He followed the navigation along winding streets until he spotted a large amount of light that lit a big portion of the sky along the horizon. That must be London he thought and began to fly as fast as he could towards it, feeling sleepy now. He wondered how fast he was flying.

Once he’d gotten back over London it wasn’t hard to navigate himself back to his apartment. He knew London streets very well.

Gabriel aimed for his window and touched down with a less than graceful landing. He was smiling ecstatically. He closed the window that he’d left open. Snow had been trickling through the window in his absence and had turned to a wet patch below. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done. He was just about to put back on his top when he realised his wings were still out. He thought about it for a second. He resolved to just try and relax. After several moments the wings began to go back inside him. It was even more painful than when they had come out. When it was finished he was standing hunched over and sweating. There were feathers everywhere. He hadn’t noticed the feathers fall off last time.

Gabriel started to pick up the feathers when a smell invaded his nostrils. Almost unknowingly his whole body stiffened and his jaw contracted. He had no idea why he felt like this. The smell resembled that of lit matches. He looked over at match he'd lit earlier. It had long since died out and he shouldn't still be able to smell it. He didn’t know what about the smell made him realize but he knew beyond all doubt that there was someone in the apartment and it was not Ms Clark.

Greyside

Kevin sat bouncing a ball against the wall of his ten by six foot, grey concrete cell. He’d throw it and then catch it. Throw it and catch it. Throw it. Catch it. His eyes not focused on anything in particular, and he thought. He thought a lot. He was a convict in Greyside High Security Prison located on the outskirts of London. It was one of the top security prisons in the whole of England. Currently the prison was even playing host to the highest rated terrorist attackers in British history, the London Underground Bombers.

However, all Kevin was concerned about at that very moment was his ball and his thoughts. For most of the day this was all he had to do to pass the time. He let his mind wonder out through the bars, out of the dozen locked doors of Greyside and over the barb wired, heavily guarded fences. Off into the bright free world he had so taken for granted, leaving behind the shackles that was his physical body.

Kevin knew exactly where he’d go if he could leave. He'd envisioned it close to a thousand times. He’d go straight to the cosy warm home of the Stevenson’s. Kevin’s jaw muscles clenched as he thought and he threw the ball with more force than before. This subject monopolised almost all of his thought time. Each time a fire would ignite inside of his chest.

Countless times he had pictured himself walking up to the Stevenson’s front door. But he wouldn’t knock. No, why alert them to his presence now? What fun would that be?

He would cut off the wires to all the motion activated lights that hung over their front door, now whilst it was light out. There were also ones at the side gate and one in the garden that he would disable. Then he’d go back to his car to wait.

Night fall would be his queue. He’d step out of his car and silently walk round to the garden, greeted playfully by the guard dog he knew so well.

Here he could see into their living room. The family would be eating a mouth watering dinner on their dining room table. Two young girls would be sitting opposite each other in the middle of the table. Both with red hair that matched Kevin’s exactly. At least he shared one thing in common with his daughters. At the bottom of the table would be a skinny, pretty woman with dark brown hair, smiling her dazzling smile, her bamboozling eyes gleaming. This lady was Kevin’s ex-wife. At the top of the table, in Kevin’s spot, would of course be Mr. Stevenson, the head of the back stabbing family.

They would finish their dinner, unaware of watching eyes, and make their way to bed. Kevin would then open the back door, using the key hidden under the plant pot Kevin had given his ex-wife as a thirteenth anniversary present.

This is the part where Kevin wasn’t completely sure about the details. Sometimes he would find a knife in his right hand, other times it would be a gun but for the most part, he saw petrol. He saw fire and flames, just like the ones burning away in his chest.

The Stevenson’s would regret ever turning their backs on me, Kevin thought.

One mistake, one moment of indiscretion and they’d thrown Kevin aside like he was something filthy they’d found on the ground. Kevin couldn’t help it that he liked fire, liked to watch things burn.

He thought back to a night, almost two years previous, to the night he’d been arrested. He stood, unshaken, watching the old retirement building crumble before his eyes. Whether or not he'd known there were people inside at the time Kevin couldn't remember. It didn't seem significant at the time.

A deafening horn sounded that brought Kevin’s day dream flying back into his head, back into his cell. The horn was the sound to tell the prisoners that it was now lunch-time. Kevin caught his ball and got to his feet as the bars were mechanically opened. He and the other two hundred or so inmates, escorted by dozens of heavily armed officers, made their way to the cafeteria.

The smell of rotten fish filled Kevin’s nostrils as he stepped into the cafeteria. He made his way over to a corner he knew wouldn’t get him into any trouble. Convicts, wearing orange prison uniforms matching Kevin’s, filled the eating hall. The cafeteria was covered with invisible territories belonging to the prison gangs.

Kevin knew these territories well now. On his first day in prison, however, he had been unaware that such rules existed. This had lead to a large and heavily scarred man to smash mash potato into Kevin’s face.

This incident had gone unnoticed by the guards because they did not eat with the convicts. They ate in their own fully furnished, separate compartment in the cafeteria. Completely cut off from the riffraff of the prisoners. This meant that lunch time was where most of the drug deals occurred.

Kevin found he wasn’t very hungry at the moment so instead of eating he stared out of a barred window, into the yard. It was about an acre of open concreted land, enclosed by high barbed wired fences with four tall watch towers on each corner. The watch towers were manned with trained snipers on 24 hour a day look out.

Kevin sighed. The only way he’d ever be getting out of this place was in a body bag, he thought miserably to himself. Then he noticed something. Surrounding the walls of Greyside were dozens of large, black vans. Kevin couldn’t work out why they were there. After a few moments of staring he concluded they would be for some kind of delivery. He pulled his ball out of his pocket and started looking for a good place to sit and play with it when he saw something else that was odd. Through the windows of the guard’s dining room he could see a faint red smoke filling the room. Kevin got to his feet and began to walk warily towards the room. It seemed to be emanating from an air vent in the far corner. The guards had realized too and were now, one by one, scrambling off of their chairs and backing away hurriedly. They rushed towards the door but it was locked. Several guards began trying to smash the window with chairs and tables but to no avail.

The mist was slowly filling up the room now. The panic that was etched on all of the guards’ faces seemed to fade away as the smoke reached them, replaced by stupid, dopey looks. Then, like a house of cards, they all fell to the floor. The mist consumed the room and the bodies till the windows were opaquely red.

Kevin stared worried. He worried not for the welfare of the guards. He had no inclination in the slightest of trying to help them. Neither did Kevin worry for his fellow inmates. No, Kevin was worried about Kevin. He knew something very big was about to happen.

The other convicts were getting to their feet now and looking over in curiosity. For a moment or two there was nothing but silence. What followed this silence was the most ear splitting explosion Kevin had ever heard in his life. He dived to the ground and covered his head. Rubble and dust rained down over the prisoners. Kevin raised his head, trying to find the source of the noise and what he saw made his jaw drop in astonishment. One side of the enormous cafeteria wall had completely been blown away. As the dust settled he could make out a single figure through the hole that had been formed. The figure walked through the hole and, walking with both grace and authority, made their way calmly to the centre of the cafeteria. It was a man. The man had smartly combed blonde hair and deep penetratingly blue eyes. Brushing deb-re off of his fine black suit, he stood in the centre of the chaos and rotated around, marveling at the mayhem. A small smile spread across his handsome face.

“Hello gentlemen.” He had a strong Irish accent, Northern Ireland Kevin supposed from the sound of it. He spoke with a friendly tone. “My name is Alexander Doyle. I’m sorry for the sudden intrusion but, as I’m sure you’ll soon agree, it was necessary.”

He allowed the convicts to get to their feet. Some, like Kevin, looked worried, but most just looked annoyed.

“We are going to make history today, gentlemen. I am here to return you fine men to freedom.” This turned the faces of the convicts to pleasantly curious.

“Never before has there been a prison break out of this magnitude. Now, as you have probably already seen, your security guards have been... immobilised. This hole here has saved us breaking through several dozen looked doors. I’ll ask you now to follow me out to the yard, where your transport awaits.”

The man walked through the crowd of gawping convicts and out of the hole he had made in the wall. There was a brief silence where all the convicts looked around the room, as though they would see a sign on the wall reading 'Freedom This Way'. Then, almost in unison, all began to climb through the hole in the cafeteria wall.

Kevin was one of the last to climb through. They were lead through to the yard where they all walked with an eerily quiet. There were guards’ bodies laying all around. They were not dead. Kevin could tell from the way their chests still pumped up and down. No, they were unconscious.

Kevin looked up to the guards’ towers. It was unmanned. Kevin felt excitement. An anxious chill rose up his back. Was this real? Could it really be this simple? Was he really about to just stroll out of the prison a free man?

An image of the Stevensons' front steps flashed more vivid than ever before.

Once the crowd had reached the end of the yard they stopped and gathered around the Irishman, listening eagerly. A large portion of the fence had been removed. Through the gap Kevin could see the dozen or so large vans he'd spotted previously. The van's rear doors were open and facing the group.

“These, gentlemen-” Doyle gestured to the vans. “-will take you to your safe house. Once at the safe house, you are free. You will be given a change of clothes and can rejoin the outside world.” A smile spread across his face. “Now if you would all please climb in.”

Without hesitation, the group of convicts began to climb inside the vans.

Kevin looked around. He noticed that there on the far end of the row of vans was a smaller, red van. This was where the Irishman was standing now. He was talking to some prisoners that Kevin had never seen before. There were seven of them, dressed in bright green uniforms. They were all Eastern European with hard, viscous faces. All had long black hair with matching beards. They must be the Underground Bombers, Kevin Supposed. The Bombers were arguing with Doyle. They seemed to be unwilling to get into their van.

Kevin did not care and went back to minding his own business. He followed a group of convicts and climbed into the back of one of the vans that had the least harmful looking occupants.

The inside of the van was dark. What little light there was came from several small lights on the ceiling. There were no chairs so Kevin remained standing. He was forced further in by convicts behind him. Around thirty men were crammed into the van, leaving them stuffed together like sardines. But Kevin didn't care. He was about to be a free man again. He could have screamed he was so jubilant.

The inside of the van grew even darker once the doors of the truck were closed. The slam of the doors was followed by a harsh locking sound. The van started and they began to move.

Kevin had just begun to fantasise about his new found freedom when he noticed that the convicts in the van were forcing him to move again. They were beginning to make a fuss over something in the corner that Kevin couldn’t see. Kevin got on his tip toes and looked over the heads of other convicts. It looked as though the convicts that were in the far corner were lying down. He couldn’t believe it. There wasn’t enough room to stand as it was, let alone lay down. But then Kevin looked closer. There was a faint red mist covering the bodies.

The convicts were falling like dominoes. Fear hit Kevin like he’d ran face first into a brick wall. He started to push himself through the crowd. He climbed over others and knocked smaller men carelessly to the ground. With no regard for anyone else he desperately scrambled to the doors of the truck.

How could they have been so stupid? He’d walked willingly into a gas chamber. He had been so enthralled by the promises of the Irishman that he had not questioned one thing about it. Shepherded like sheep for the slaughter.

The red mist was now consuming the majority of the van. Though Kevin knew his fate was sealed, he still scrambled away. He reached the door to the truck and smashed fist after fist into the metal till his hand bled. It was no use. The red mist invaded Kevin’s lungs and he instantly dropped to the ground, his fall softened by the rotund belly of the unconscious Mad Dog.

Gabriel got quickly to his feet and put his shirt back on. His mind was suddenly full of a thousand panicked voices yelling. So many frantic thoughts made it nearly impossible to discern one from another. If there was someone in the apartment then they would have definitely heard Gabriel land. He could turn and fly away. But was Ms Clark back yet? Was she in trouble? Okay okay calm down.

He turned out the lights and then edged softly over to his door. He put his ear up against the cold wood. Nothing. This didn’t put to rest the fear that was now grabbing at his heart like an ice cold iron fist. Instead it seemed to make it wrench harder.

He put his hand on the door knob and turned it slowly, feeling the inner mechanism creek in a way he'd never noticed before. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The lights were all out, apart from one. At the end of the long corridor flickered am orange light. It lit Gabriel’s living room. It must be coming from the fire place. Gabriel had never seen it on before. In truth he didn't think it worked.

His feet began to walk him down the corridor, the yelling voices in his brain now silent. When he reached the doorway a strange sight hit Gabriel’s eyes. Someone was sitting in Gabriel’s large leather armchair. Gabriel could see the top of a man's head over the back of the chair. They faced away from Gabriel, staring transfixed into the heart of the fire.

Two long metallic chains hung down from either side of the armchair. The chains coiled like snakes on the carpet. Each end was secured tightly to two mens necks.

Gabriel's mind not willing to believe his eyes it pinched them shut. This scene was so odd, so bizarre that his brain simply refused to compute it as real. He opened his eyes again the same image presented itself before him. A man holding onto two chains attached to two men.

One of the chained men lay lazily, almost comfortably on the floor to the right of the armchair. The second man was hunched over to the left of the armchair, staring fixedly up at the occupant of the chair.

Both were extremely skinny and frail. They looked shabby and unkempt. They wore rags for trousers that were stained with what appeared revoltingly to be dry blood. Neither wore shirts. Large parts of their hair were missing and bold pink and purple scars, glittering in the firelight, covered their bodies. They both panted fast like they were out of breath. Gabriel could see their bony rib cages rise and fall, silhouetted in the fire. Such peculiar appearances made it hard to estimate their age but at a guess Gabriel would have said thirty years old.

Gabriel's brain clambered to give him some inclination of what he should do. However, there was not a single shred in the archives of his mind that he could use as a point of reference. No lesson in life had ever taught him his move for this situation. All Gabriel's useless, con-fuddled head could do at such a vital moment in his life was wonder how on Earth these men weren't stopped by Tony the doorman on the way into the building.

Gabriel took a step into the room. As he did so one of the chained men raised his nose to the ceiling and sniffed the air. The man clenched his eyes shut and took in a deep breath that stretched the vile scars on his chest.

Then, making Gabriel’s heart skip, the man shot his head towards Gabriel. The man scrambled to his feet and sped towards Gabriel like a rabid animal. The speed shocked Gabriel to the point where all he could do was stand there blankly, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

The man was mere inches away from Gabriel when the chain tightened and he was tugged backwards by his neck. He fell to the floor hard on his back. Only momentarily down he got back up to his feet and advanced on Gabriel again.

Bounding forward he came again until the chain was taught. Both hands scratched out franticly towards Gabriel, snapping rotten yellow stained teeth as though desperate to sink them into Gabriel’s flesh. Slobber dangled from the edges of his cracked lips.

Close up, Gabriel noticed several things about the man that he hadn’t at first sight. The two chained men had very close resemblance to each other. Gabriel thought they looked like brothers. Another thing he noticed was a tattoo on their chests. It was a paw print of some kind, possibly a bear.

Gabriel could now see his scars in detail. Some were thick and shallow looking like they had been carved with human finger nails. Whereas others, more abundant, were thin and deep. These were almost certainly etched by the claws of an animal.

“Down!” shouted the man in the armchair.

Gabriel recognised the voice at once. There came a huge tug from the end of the chains and the skinny man went flying back to the armchair. He clutched his neck as he landed and began to whimper. He didn’t rush Gabriel again. Both just sat there obediently, staring at the man in the armchair.

“Hello Gabriel.” said the man as he rose from his feet and turned to face Gabriel.

“Oh, it’s you.” Gabriel said back with a cool voice. “What was your name again? Oreo, wasn’t it?”

“Ornias.” returned the man coldly.

It was the man from the roof of the bank, the accomplice to Philatanus. He stood there holding onto the two chained men.

“Ah yes, that’s it. Why are you here?” Gabriel asked.

“I think you know exactly why I’m here.” Ornias stared at Gabriel. “I’m here for payback. You were the reason my friend died.”

“That wasn’t my fault. Besides, he deserved what he got from that man.” Gabriel said calmly.

“That man?” Ornias repeated, confused. “Everyone in the Immortal world knows who Hunter is." He regarded Gabriel for a long moment. "You really don’t know what you are, do you?"

Gabriel looked back into the dark shadow that was Ornias' face and found he could not answer.

"Yes," Ornias continued. "I thought you seemed strange on that roof. Was that the first time you've ever shot?"

"What do you mean?" Gabriel asked.

"I'll take that as a yes. I'm very honored that I was there to witness your first time." He let out a hearty laugh. "I wasn't expecting on playing the role of teacher tonight. When we grow our wings we call it shooting."

"How did you find me?" Gabriel asked, cutting through Ornias' sniggering.

"Well I couldn't very well return home after leaving Philatanus alone on that rooftop. So I decided it would be easier to kill you than Hunter. I was debating where to start looking for you when I saw you on the news. There you were, headline news. Mr Indestructible. They showed your name, age, school and parents, more than enough to find you. Then I come here. No one was in so I made myself at home, looked around the place. I have to say it is very nice. However I have found absolutely no sign in your apartment that you know what you are. You have no clue that you are an angel, do you?”

There was a long silence.

“An angel?” Gabriel asked and took a step back. Of course that had been what he’d thought, he had sprouted white wings for crying out loud, but hearing it said by someone else made it seem real. He was an angel. Gabriel the angel.

“So that makes you a-”

“Demon. You are correct.” Ornias finished Gabriel’s question for him. Ornias gave a sickening smile. White pearls that glowed from out of the shadows.

“An angel lost in the Mortal world. How very intruiging. I would love to hear the story behind this. Unfortunately, I've got a job to do. And apparently this will be easier than what I thought. I probably didn’t even need to bring my boys here with me.”

Gabriel eyed the men in chains. “Who- what are they?”

“These,” Ornias gestured to both the men “are my faithful servants. They are my children. I brought them here today to avenge my fallen comrade.”

“You didn’t seem like you were much of a comrade when you were flying off as fast as your wings could carry you.”

Ornias gave Gabriel a fierce look. “Yes, well, I plan to make it up for him now.”

Gabriel looked the skinny men up and down. They looked like they’d drop any minute.

“No offence but your... hitmen look like they’ll die from hunger before they get a punch in.” Gabriel said.

Ornias walked over to the window and looked out onto the streets of London below. For a long time he said nothing.

“Have you ever heard the legend of the werewolf, Gabriel?”

Gabriel was taken aback by this odd question.

“Men that turn into wolves when a full moon comes out. Yes I know of them. The moon light transforms them.” Gabriel said confusedly. Then his eyes flickered to the tattoos on the skinny mens chests and a sense of foreboding dread filled Gabriel.

“You are almost right, Gabriel. Yes the werewolf is a man that turns into a beast. But no, it has nothing to do with moon light. It makes no difference as to whether the moon is out or not. It is ancient magic. On the night of a full moon, at midnight, a man with the werewolf gene or virus will be transformed. They rip and tear their way through anything in their path, besides their masters of course.”

Gabriel gulped hard. An image of a giant full moon he’d seen whilst above the clouds came into his head. He looked down at his wristwatch. The time read 11:58 PM. Gabriel’s mind buzzed. Could his body heal again? It had done before.

Then, as though in response to Gabriel’s thought Ornias said “Mr Indestructible.” and chuckled lightly “Angels are resilient vermin and seem to stick to life like a turd to a shoe. But a foolproof method of extermination is werewolf venom."

Ornias turned back around and walked until he faced directly opposite Gabriel.

“Less than a minute now, Gabriel." Ornias then looked at Gabriel's face with mild interest. "Curious. You do strike a remarkable resemblance to Hunter. A mystery that, sadly I doubt, we'll ever find out the answers behind. My boys are dying to taste real angel flesh.” Ornais said through a locked jaw and a wide smile.

Ornias started to laugh. A cold and evil sound. This was short lived however. Something had happened to Ornias. He let out a sound like a screeching bat. He stumbled forward in pain and span on the spot. A knife was sticking out of his back. Ornias dropped the chains. They hit the ground with a loud metallic clang.

“Run Gabriel!”

It was Ms. Clark. She had snuck in completely unnoticed by anyone. It occurred to Gabriel that no evidence of fear or shock was visible on her face.

Ornias sent a punch at Ms Clark. It hit her in the chest with a sickening crunch. A rib or two was definitely broken.

“No!” Gabriel screamed and started forward.

Ms Clark clutched her stomach with her left hand and with her right swung an upper cut with way more force than a woman of her stature, age or condition should physically be able to. Gabriel doubted even he could have punched with that much power. Ornias was raised several inches off of the ground and slammed to the floor heavily. Ornias was not out yet though. He climbed back to his feet with pure venom in his eyes.

Gabriel took a step forward to help but Ms Clark held out her hand.

"Run Gabriel. Now." She said painfully.

At that moment Gabriel's wristwatch let out a high pitch beep. It was midnight. In the distance Gabriel could make out the sound of Big Ben clang. The two skinny men’s faces momentarily went to a smile. Their smiled were short lived however, replaced immediately by expressions of extreme anguish.

Both men clutched their chests like they were experiencing simultaneous heart attacks. Bones cracked and snapped inside their skins as they began to mutate. They fell to their knees under the burden of the torture. The skin on their backs tore open like it was being sliced by unseen knives. But from the gashes came no blood. Thick black fur sprouted out, longer and longer, greasy and oily. It was like a beast had grown from within them and was now expanding, outgrowing the flesh of the human bodies they used to occupy. They reached their hands up to their heads and ripped their scalp clean off with their nails. They peeled off the skin on their faces off like Halloween masks. What lay beneath was a hairy, monstrous dog like face. Like ink being spilt into once clear water, their blue eyes turned the darkest of black. Two gigantic pupils that seemed to suck in what little light there was in the room. Long snouts stuck out of their faces, crinkled in pain and fury. Pointed pink ears protruded from the side of their heads like horns. Their yellow teeth began to elongate, growing into long, sharp fangs that dripped with venom and saliva.

Fear reeked Gabriel’s entire body.

The werewolves stood there, panting fast and drooling. They were a good two feet taller than Gabriel. Beneath the hair there were large, powerful muscles that they had certainly not had as humans. Their nails had been replaced by razor sharp claws.

Gabriel stepped backwards slowly. His heartbeat pounded in his head. The werewolves let out an almighty howl.

As though this was the starting pistol Gabriel had been waited for, he bolted from the spot like a grey hound out of a stall. If Gabriel had had time to think through the situation the best route of escape for him would have been the window. He had wings, the werewolves did not. Simple.

However, as he was new to the world of angels' his human habits materialized first and he ran to the door.

Ornias had locked it behind him when he had broken in. Gabriel was trapped. He turned back to see a werewolf diving towards him. Reflexively, he threw himself sideways just in time and the wolf went crashing through the door like a bullet through paper.

Gabriel seized his chance and scrambled through the splintered door frame.

He sprinted down the corridor as pounding paws hit the ground behind him. Snapping jaws nipped his heals. In a small, almost unconscious corner of Gabriel's mind it occurred to him that he was running faster than he ever had done before, by a long shot. Was this part of his body adjusting to being an angel?

The corridor was long and passed by in a blur. But it wouldn't go on forever. He stopped dead, swung around on the spot and like a prized boxer sunk a powerful fist into the nose of one of the wolves and its nose crippled beneath his blow. It was sent hurtling backwards. It shocked Gabriel to see how strong the punch had been. His body was more alive than it had ever felt. It was power beyond any he had ever felt. Strength and might radiated through his veins. A latent energy had awoken inside him.

The unexpected feeling of limitless capabilities caught Gabriel momentarily off guard and in that second of inaction the second wolf slipped through Gabriel's defenses, smashing into his chest with the force of a truck. The wolf crushed him as all of its weight pinned him to the ground. All air was extinguished from Gabriel's lungs.

Gabriel threw up his hands instinctively, grabbing a hold of the werewolf’s face. A monsoon of spit and deadly venom rained down on Gabriel. The poison burned hot where it hit his bare skin.

The wolf’s pointed teeth snapped aggressively at Gabriel. Gabriel looked around everywhere but saw nothing of use. All that was in the narrow corridor was a fire extinguisher and an elevator door at the very end. No use at all. Or were they?

An idea struck Gabriel like a lightning bolt. He pulled up his foot until it was on the monster’s bare chest. With one powerful kick he sent the wolf soaring into the air. It cracked into the ceiling before falling down to the floor with a crash. Dust and tiny pebbles of rubble dropped from the ceiling. Again, Gabriel hadn’t expected that much power.

He tore the fire extinguisher from its holdings and sprinted to the elevator door.

Gabriel looked back down the corridor. The wolf that he’d punched leapt over its brother and was heading towards Gabriel like a charging bull. Gabriel pulled off the safety tab on the extinguisher and squirting in all directions. White foam and mist covered all sides of him until he was completely consumed by it. Gabriel pushed himself flat against the wall of the hallway as the wolf dived teeth and claws first into the mist.

The wolf whooshed past, blasting through the elevator doors like a cannon ball. The startled wolf fell down the elevator shaft and out of sight. At that moment Gabriel felt something wrap tightly around his left leg. Close to tugging it clean off of his hip, it pulled him with extreme strength into the open hole. He just about managed to cling on to the floor at the opening of the elevator. The heavy chain around the wolf’s neck had got tangled around Gabriel’s leg.

The wolf dangled below, the chain still wrapped tightly around his neck like a noose. Gabriel tried frantically to get the chains off his ankle. He could feel the beast writhing below as it struggled to detach itself. It yanked forcibly on the chains. The wolf was strong but somehow Gabriel was even stronger, holding on immovably from the edge like an anchor. Even when the wolf gave a humungous final tug, so hard that it caused Gabriel's ankle to make a loud snap, Gabriel did not budge.

The chain went still then.

Gabriel looked down the elevator shaft. The wolf swung limp below Gabriel now, thrashing no more. It began to shrink in size, its facial characteristics turning back to the frail, heavily scarred man once more. The fur had fell from his body like leaves from an Autumn tree. What remained was a skinny naked man that dangled pathetically from the chain.

The human head was smaller than that of the beast. So small was it now that it was able to slipped easily out of its metallic noose. The lifeless body fell down the shaft, bumping onto the corner edge of the elevator in the way down, before hitting the ground with a soft crunch. Foolishly, childishly, a feeling of guilt clutched at Gabriel in the subsequent silence.

Gabriel pulled himself up onto the floor of his corridor and sat untangling the knot on the chain. The snap he had heard had been his ankle breaking. However, it had already begun to heal itself so by the time he had unravelled the chains it was almost fully recovered. He touched it gingerly and noted how hot it felt.

Climbing carefully up he looked down the hall. The mist had fallen to the ground leaving a creamy residue on the carpet. Gabriel's heart dropped and it was only after a few moments that he realized why.

The other werewolf had vanished.

Apparently the hairy hitman had forgotten its main objective and wondered off in search of new prey. Standing frozen, he heard a distant, horrifically distant, howl followed by fait shrill screams. The wolf had found people.

Gabriel's breath staggered out of his mouth. They were on the fifteenth floor. The wolf couldn't be on the ground floor by now could it? He had to contain the wolf in the building. He would have to beat the werewolf to the ground. But how?

He looked down the dark elevator shaft. He 'shot' almost with out thinking this time. The sight of his white, feathery wings calmed him in a way he couldn't explain.

He jumped.

Wind rushed past his ears as he built speed. Avoiding the elevator by half a foot he opened his wings like a parachute. He landed, next to the ex-wolf, with a massive explosion. He did land on on his feet this time. Small victory. He would have to learn to be more graceful with his landings.

Jumping out of the crater he’d made, he ran over to the elevator doors and forced them open.

He was now in the lobby. People were rushing about frantically like a disturbed bees nest.

Gabriel pushed his way against the current of people.

The wolf was in the hotel’s restaurant. Gabriel forced his way through the petrified men, women and children that were dashing for safety.

Then he spotted it. The werewolf was on top of a table, clawing down at a terrified Tony the Doorman trapped down a side the wolf was too big to fit into.

“Oi!” Gabriel shouted.

Oi? This was Gabriel's plan? Yell at it like it was a child who'd been caught stealing sweets? Still, it seemed to work as the wolf turned its head towards Gabriel. An intense anger flooded into the wolf's pitch black eyes as it remembered its primary target. It jumped down from the table, whose relieved legs returned from curved to upright at the unload of the immense weight, and crouched down, poising to strike.

“Run!” shouted Gabriel to Tony the Doorman. Though it was extremely good advice Gabriel thought, the man did not run. He stayed in his make-do fortress and assumed the fetal position.

Gabriel and the wolf locked eyes. The two stared at each other for a long moment, a bizarre blend of fairy tale and wild west stand off. Angel against werewolf.

Then, like it had been signaled to do so, the wolf made towards Gabriel with murderous intent.

Adrenaline seemed to pulse through his veins like fire. Searing heat and power. Like before in the hospital, his hands began to burn. He looked down at them and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The fire was not merely metaphorical, there was real fire being pushed through his veins.

His arteries were alight with an intense orange tinge, giving his skin a translucent papery look. Almost forgetting about the werewolf hurtling towards him at that very moment, he examined his hands closely.

Embers were being pumped though his vessels, looking like molten lava under his skin. He clenched his fists. He could feel the energy building up in his fingers until it was ready to burst. He looked up and the wolf was flying towards Gabriel, almost in slow motion, claws extended and fangs bared.

Gabriel closed his eyes.

He acted as though he’d been expecting this energy to arrive into his fist the whole time. He forced as much internal energy into his hands as he could. Then, without opening his eyes, he swung.

A ton of muscle and fur collided with a hundred and fifty pounds of flesh. His fist made contact with an explosion tantamount to a volcanic eruption. Gabriel and the wolf were thrown apart flying through the restaurant.

It flew over the restaurant's bar. It smashed into bottles of Vodka and Brandy and fell behind the countertop, out of sight. Gabriel had crash landed into a table, crumpling it beneath him.

Where had that come from? Would Gabriel ever stop finding new talents?

The punch had taken everything out of him. He felt like he’d just run a hundred marathons. His hands were cooling down and the hot pain was subsiding. He tried to get to his feet but simply could not muster enough energy. He kneeled, panting, and prayed that the wolf was dead.

It was not.

I was climbing shakily to its feet, confused and disorientated. It leapt over the bar with diminished strength. Still it had more than Gabriel. It limped towards him, gaining speed. It was clearly injured, drenched in blood and alcohol, but determined to finish its job. Shattered shards of glass stuck out of its thick fur.

Gabriel was too exhausted to get to his feet. All he could do was hold out his hands in self-defence. The wolf hit him with the force of a bus. It grabbed Gabriel across the floor. Gabriel closed his eyes, praying it would be over quickly. He waited for the pain to come. He waited for razor sharp teeth to rip him apart, for knife like claws to shred into his flesh.

But it never came.

The wolf let out an enormous, bloodcurdling yelp. Gabriel felt the crushing weight of the wolf lift off of him. Gabriel opened his eyes to see an intense bright light.

At first he couldn’t tell where the source of the light. It took up his whole vision and stung his eyes painfully. With a pang of fear he realized it was fire. The wolf had, seemingly spontaneously, burst into flames right in front of Gabriel. Gabriel recoiled away.

It thrashed around in pain, screaming with unimaginable agony, before falling to the floor. The sound changed seamlessly from an animal’s whimper to the unmistakable cry of a man’s scream.

Its fur melted from its body until all that was left the charcoaled remains of a man. The man twitched around madly and then went very still.

Gabriel stood there in bewilderment and shook with fear.

How had the wolf spontaneously combusted like that? He looked around for a source of a flame but saw none. Then he looked down at his hands. It couldn't have been him, could it?

The light emanating from his veins was dim but there was no mistaking that it was still there. Had his hands been hot enough to set the wolf on fire?

Then Gabriel realised what the wolf had been covered in, extremely flammable alcohol. He stared at his hands until the light faded.

Gabriel sunk to the floor. This was all too much too soon. He was only sixteen. He had so many questions that he needed answered. He sunk off, lost in his own thoughts, into a kind of trance. He barely noticed the sound of dozens of footsteps that had burst into the room. Nor was he aware of being lifted up to his feet.

Gabriel only snapped out of his trance when he felt something cold was being wrapped around his bruised wrists. Realizing with a jolt to the heart that they were handcuffs, he took in his surroundings. All around his were armed policemen, approaching him with caution.

Gabriel was being arrested.

“No, you don’t understand.” Gabriel muttered to deaf ears.

He was carried outside and lifted into the back of a police car whilst a hundred onlooking strangers gawped.

The police department's interrogation room appeared to be a poorly renovated, dingy cloakroom. It consisted of a dusty table with two chairs that sat on opposite sides. Gabriel sat handcuffed in one, staring its unoccupied brother. Though snow fell unseen outside, sweat beads dribbled down Gabriel's exhausted face. The result of a broken radiator. Pressed up against Gabriel's bare back, it turned the air hot and stuffy.

The only source of light, as there were no windows, came from a huge, conical shaped light that hung from the low ceiling. It swung rhythmically, to and fro like a metronome, seemingly from its own accord as no breeze was permitted to enter the hot room. The changing perspective of light swung the shadows of the small rooms components backwards and forward. This gave Gabriel the nauseating feeling of being on a rocky boat .A large mirror, riddled with minor cracks, eclipsed the south facing wall, doubling this sickening feeling.

The interrogation served the purpose it had quite clearly been designed for. Gabriel was isolated and defeated. He sat lifeless in the chair, as limp as a discarded child's toy. His head hung low in his solemnity. Hours had past since he'd been brought here, or maybe it was days. There was no clock in this room and with no visual access to sunlight it was hard to tell things like time.

He had no idea why he was handcuffed in an interrogation room. What had he done wrong? If he hadn’t killed those wolves they’d be loose around the streets of London right now.

Gabriel flickered in and out of an unbearably uncomfortable sleep.

Eventually, after Gabriel didn't know how long, the sound of locks clicking mechanically open stirred Gabriel to consciousness. The door opened but the room did not light up as Gabriel had expected. A large silhouette forbid any light from entering.The door closed and the unoccupied chair was pulled slowly and dramatically from under the table, its legs squealing defiantly against the concrete floor.

Gabriel's curiosity raised his lax head upwards. A fat, greasy face greeted Gabriel's eyes. It was Sergeant Brody, the police officer Gabriel had met at his sister's hospital bed. Brody had a small smile that bent the edges of his thick, bristly beard. A mixture of sleep and sweat irritated Gabriel's eyes. Realizing his hands were still clasped behind him, he resolved to hard blinking.

Sergeant Brody didn’t say anything for a long moment.

He pulled a cigar box out from his jacket pocket. But he did not pull out a cigar, instead it was a little white plastic cylinder. He put it to his mouth and inhaled with the noise of a small hoover. He had a look of great pleasure on his face, like he was trying to extract every molecule of air from it. Then he exhaled, his shoulders becoming more relaxed.

“You know I’m not allowed to smoke in an interrogation room any more. This is called an inhalator.” He gestured to the pipe. “Rather takes the authority out of an interrogation, doesn’t it?”

Gabriel said nothing.

“Do you understand the trouble you’re in Mr Hawks?” Sergeant Brody asked.

“What am I supposed to have done?” Gabriel clenched his teeth, holding back his ferocity.

“You are looking at four counts of murder and one count of arson.”

“What?!” Gabriel tried to yell but all that exited his mouth was a hoarse whisper. He tried to get to his feet but the chains forced him back. “I didn’t... They were...” His outraged thoughts seemed to be restricting his ability to talk. He couldn’t string a full sentence together.

“Please sit down, Gabriel." Brody said and patiently waited for Gabriel to cease. "Now, seeing as you’re a minor the jury may go easy on you if you confess to everything now.”

“Confess?”

"Yes, Gabriel. Confess to all of your crimes and the system will have lenience."

"Lenience?"

All Gabriel seemed to be able to say was a repeat of Brody's last words, like a parrot.

“Yes, leniance." Brody opened a paper file he'd been holding. "We know you killed your baby sitter, a Ms Clark. You killed her and a Mr West with a knife in your apartment. We know you set an as yet unknown man on fire in the restaurant. We also know that there is another unknown body at the bottom of the elevator shaft."

Brody had stunned Gabriel.

"But there are witnesses, aren't there?"

"I have been given this assignment, and so it is up to me who I choose to interview or not. I want to hear the truth from you, Mr Hawks."

Gabriel sensed hidden meanings in Brody's sentence.

"What do you mean, the truth?" Gabriel asked slowly.

Brody lost his composure then. Slamming his fist on the table, his comb-over fell out of the neat, brushed style he'd had it in. His large bald spot now exposed, glittered the reflection of the bright light above.

"Don't act stupid with me boy!" His eyes were deranged now. "Where are the bodies?!"

"What bodies?" asked Gabriel, utterly perplexed.

"The four people you murdered!"

He grabbed a woad of paper from his case file and threw them at Gabriel. The pieces floated down to the table scattered.

"Six different police reports detailing the finding of the bodies, four coroner signatures that picked up the bodies." Gabriel looked down at the paper, with no idea on Earth what Brody was talking about. "Only thing is the bodies never made it to the morgue, but you knew that didn't you?"

Brody pointing an accusing finger at Gabriel.

"How did you do it? How did you make the bodies disappear? Why was there no evidence found at either of your crime scenes? Who helped you?!" He yelled the last question, his voice wild now.

Gabriel’s couldn’t speak. The bodies had disappeared. How was that possible? He felt he already knew the answer. Was this another mysterious cover up?

The Sergeant waited for a long moment but Gabriel still didn’t speak. Brody raised a chubby hand then, and for one wild moment Gabriel thought Brody was going to strike him. Brody's hand stopped at his own neck and wrenched off the golden chain that hung there. He slammed the chain to the table in front of the two of them. The golden cross Brody had showed Gabriel in the hospital glittered neath the interrogation lamp.

"Death defying falls, winged men and werewolves. The supernatural surrounds you like flies to a steamy shit! Why is that?" Brody clenched his jaw tight and banged his hand hard on the table again. "I have to know!"

Gabriel knew now what Brody was really after. Brody had said it in the hospital. 'I'm a deeply religious man, Mr Hawks.' Here was a mystery that could prove the existence of monsters and mystical creatures, of heaven and hell, of angels and demons. It was a mystery that held all of Brody's answers about his faith. And for some inexplicable reason, unbeknown to even Gabriel, Gabriel was the common denominator. The key to the puzzle.

Unfortunately, Gabriel knew as little as Brody and had no answers for any of his own questions, let alone the Sergeant's.

There was nothing Gabriel could do. This was it. He would be going to prison, most likely for life. He hung his head as complete, bottomless dread swept over him.

“You realise you’ll be going away for a very long time if you don't tell me? I have to know what's going on here!" Brody reached his hand round to his right pocket and what Gabriel saw sent absolute terror through Gabriel. An old fashioned silver revolver was pushed down Brody's black trousers, it's wooden handle sticking out above his belt. Gabriel made to jump out of the chair, but like before was forced back down by the handcuffs.

"Tell me or I swear I'll-”

But what Brody was going to do, Gabriel never found out. For Brody's words were cut short by an emphatic knocking at the door. Manic with rage Brody turned, allowing his shirt to fall back over the gun. He wrenched open the door and light flooded into the room, illuminating every nook and cranny of the tiny space. An immensely relieving breeze swept over Gabriel.

Gabriel looked up. A pretty and important woman barged her way past a red, sweaty Brody. She was blond and wore a very smart and expensive looking suit. Her hair was pinned back into a tight bun. Peering over silver glasses, she seemed to be looking everywhere in the room other than directly at Gabriel, as though fascinated with the small room.

Two men then followed behind her and too crammed themselves into the now overcrowded room. One was tall and muscular, with spiked brown hair, and the other was short with long orange hair and freckles.

“Who are you?” Brody demanded.

“I’m Agent Jones. This,” she gestured to the big man “is Agent Halls and this,” she gestured finally to the ginger haired man “is Agent Smith.” All three showed Sergeant Brody small, official looking cards displaying identification.

“We are here to inform you that this case has been transferred to MI6. We apologise for any inconvenience. The London police service has done an exceedingly good job as of yet and we are very thankful for that.” The woman said.

“What? You can’t just come in here and take over. This is my case!” screamed Brody, going even redder.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” The woman said politely, as though not listening. The other two men took him by the arm and began escorting him from the room. He shook their hands off him and ran to Gabriel. He was now inches from Gabriel's face, his eyes wild. Gabriel could see the sweat on Brody’s forehead run down. He looked completely deranged.

“Why are there so many unanswerable questions surrounding you?” Brody searched Gabriel with his eyes desperately looking for a sign, as if the answers he was searching for were etched onto Gabriel’s face. “Maybe you’ll never tell me but I’m telling you now, I will find out what is going on here!”

The men grabbed Brody and almost catapulted him from the room. They shut the door and locked it. They both turned to the woman, awaiting further instructions.

The woman still wasn’t looking at Gabriel. She walked over to the mirror and closed the curtains that hung either side. Gabriel only now realised that it must be one of those two way mirrors that he’d seen on television. She then took the chair and dragged it over to the door. She mounted the chair and unplugged a wire that was connected to a camera that again Gabriel hadn't noticed. As she did so, a faint red light on the camera's front went out. She jumped down from the chair and with landing her mannerisms completely altered.

Her shoulders slumped, as though a great burden had been released, and she seemed to become more relaxed. She let out a long breathe, her uptight look vanishing. She reached up and took something out of her hair so it fell down her back. Then she took off her glasses and shoved them carelessly into her pocket.

She looked over at Gabriel for the first time and a smile that depicted absolute joy spread across her pretty face.

“Gabriel.” The woman whispered delighted, her voice cracking with the strain of emotions, and ran to him. Gabriel pulled back in surprise. She held him with pure adoration, seemingly not wanting to release him.

Reluctantly, she finally let go, turning to the ginger haired man. “Hurry up and get him out of these handcuffs.”

“Oh yes, of course.” The orange haired man smiled and hurried over to unlock the cuffs. Gabriel rubbed his wrists. They had gone red where the cuffs had rubbed.

“Look at the state of you. You’re covered in blood.” The woman said. She took a spotless tissue out of her pocket and began wiping away the blood from his face. Then she reached into her bag, delicately pulled out a thick black book and handed it to Gabriel.

The cover read 'Memories' in golden writing. Gabriel gawped at the book and then at the woman. His brain almost burnt trying to think through these implications. It was the book Molly had given Gabriel the night of the robbery. Gabriel had left it on the roof of the bank.

“Who are you people?” Gabriel asked, looking up through tear-filling eyes at the Agent.

It was only now she didn’t have her glasses on that Gabriel realized something. Just like the winged man on the rooftop of the bank, she too had an uncanny resemblance to Gabriel. The same blond hair. The same nose. The deep blue eyes. The same lips.

The ginger man opened the door, checking the coast outside.

"All clear."

"Okay Gabriel, we're going to leave now. Stick close to me." The woman said. Gabriel did as he was told, following the woman out of the interrogation room, out of the building and into the back of a met black car with tinted back windows. It was the kind of important, bulletproof looking car you'd see on the news transporting an Ambassador or the Prime Minister.

“Agent Jones," Gabriel felt an excited thrill rise threw his whole body as he felt the words he'd been fighting back bubble to the surface, "are you my mother?” He said the words with a shaky voice, no louder than a whisper.

The world seemed to stand still, the words hanging in the air between them, as he waited for her reply.

She smiled and stared passionately into his eyes, surely astounded too at their alikeness.

“No Gabriel, I am not your mother. I am your Aunt.”

“My Aunt?” Gabriel said surprised.

“Yes Gabriel, you are my nephew. Your mother was my sister.” A tear trickled down her cheek and she hugged him tightly again.

“And you’re an Agent for MI6?” Gabriel asked, confused.

“What?” she said puzzled, a small crease forming between her thin eyebrows. Then she looked down at herself.

“Oh!" she let out a chuckle. "No Gabriel I’m not an Agent. I’m an angel, just like you. My name is Bethany Hawks. This is Tim Fletcher.” She gestured to the ginger haired man. Next she pointed to the taller man. “This is Richard Preece. Pretending to be agents was the only way to get you out of here. And that's why we need to go now.”

"Well, Bethany," Gabriel spoke in a whisper. “Where are we going, Bethany?”

“We’re going home.” Bethany said with a smile.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 24.07.2013

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