The Ending [updated 1/24/11]

[Hahvoc The Decepticon]

Prologue​

There was a flash of lightning so bright it was almost as if day had once again dawned. The sky was encased in such beauty that it wiped out all color before reassembling itself into the world that boasted a rainbow prism of color. The earth shook and groaned, splitting and tearing itself apart, ripping itself into shreds as if in untold agony while the winds wailed in suffering and the mountains crumbled in pain. The volcanoes erupted and screamed out liquid hot misery, melting down their own resistance. The oceans boiled and raged, battling against a fate they did not understand nor comprehend. The rivers cried over the broken land before they, too, were unearthed from their places. Darkness began to creep in like a plague. It devoured the suffering, the agony, the misery and swallowed the hopelessness of the place that had once been so vibrant and peaceful. And with the encasing of darkness came a terrible silence. A silence so complete that there was no sound- no lingering sighs of death or desperate pleas for salvation. There was nothing.

And above it all, a single beacon of light began to break through the terror. A single sound soon followed that echoed into the void. The sound of a single broken sob. The noise belonged to an Angel. The last heart shattered like the once-beautiful planet, unable to be made whole again. The death and destruction and all-consuming silence and loneliness too much for the creature. Angels were not holy beings. They were just another species who had resided upon this planet and kept it alive with their songs and blood and tears. They worked and slaved to keep it safe and beautiful and ripe with life. But nothing could have stopped the planet from dying. It had been a doomed world. A cursed world.

The Angel prayed to not be the last one left. That others had been able to escape and that they would find each other again. Loneliness was much too hard to bear in such depth. So with a desolate fluttering of wings, the Angel took off to find a new home, and prayed that it would be as beautiful as the last.​

 

[Hahvoc The Decepticon]

Re: The Ending

Chapter One​

"Oh, fuck!"

It's definitely not something you want to hear in the morning, but it is what Vax O'Riley heard upon waking up in his two bedroom apartment. His head was pounding from a night of heavy drinking, but he couldn't remember exactly why he had been drinking so much. The light streaming into his bedroom and nailing him in the eyes did nothing to help him remember. He heard the pounding of feet like nails being hammered into his skull and covered his head with a pillow. He so did not need this right now.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He heard distantly and it sounded faintly familiar and feminine. Had he slept with someone last night? Touching the space next to him, it was still warm from a human body. Well, that answered one question. There were about fifty others left.

"I'm so gonna be late for work. Shit!"

That voice started to get more and more familiar but he couldn't place a name. What was it? Mary? Marguerite? Susan?

"Paul! Yeah, it's Justine. Listen, I'll be late for work but I'm heading towards my car right now. Uh huh, yeah, I'll be able to turn in those portfolios. Yeah, I can grab you a coffee, too. All right, I'll see you soon."

Not even close, but Vax couldn't make himself care or get up. His bed was just too comfortable and warm to leave. He heard some more shuffling and curses and footsteps, but he still didn't get up. The glimpse he had gotten of his alarm clock had said he didn't need to be up yet and so he was going to listen to the little red numbers. Man, what day was it?

"Vax, I'm going now. Give me a call next time you have a function to arrange."

There was a kiss on his shoulder and a stroke of his hair before he heard the door close, signaling her leave. It took him a minute to figure out what Justine looked like but it soon started to come together. Red head with a slender hour glass shape and bottomless hazel eyes and fuck-me lips. She was an event organizer for some company and she had helped with the function last night. Amongst other things. Still, at least she knew this was just a one-nighter and not anything even close to that nasty r-word: relationship.

Rolling over, he closed the blinds and swiped a hand down his scruffy face. He needed a shave and a shower but his head was still in its rebellious state. He needed coffee (much as he hated that shit) and some aspirin but that was all the way in the kitchen and it was much too far for him to reach. Once again bathed in darkness, Vax closed his eyes and drifted back into a dreamless state.

Sometimes getting up was way too much of a hassle.

* * * * * * * *

She watched him sleep. She couldn't help herself. It was rare that she was allowed free time to do whatever it was she wanted- and all her time now was dedicated to this man who had a woman's scent all over his bed and skin. It was interesting, to say the least since they weren't married or even partners. She knew humans had these customs and such. Anikytes- or Angels as humans called them- had similar customs amongst the youngsters but weren't as often exercised since Anikytes mated for life. You could fool around, but sex was only for that special person. Israfel thought it was intriguing that humans could have so many different partners of their choosing without being drawn to one single person for the entirety of their life.

Maybe that was why they got so annoyed?

Israfel sat on the counter, just watching Vax from afar and swinging her leg back and forth as she hummed softly in contemplation. She glanced briefly at her neon green and black toenails before looking back up at the sleeping beast of a man. He was muscular but slender, and lightly tanned. He had violet blue eyes- which she was told was a rare eye color amongst humans- especially males. His hair was a blackish red- very dark but just red enough. Usually it was styled, but it was just a messy mop that faded into the black pillowcase. And he was snoring. The dark blue sheets went halfway up his back and one of his legs was sticking out over the edge of the bed. She thought he looked uncomfortable, but then again, she wasn't the one sleeping, now was she?

She combed a finger through her silky black tresses and watched them slide just over the edge of the counter. Her hair was past her ass now, if she recalled correctly, and it needed a trim. Humming lightly, she adjusted her black Gir t-shirt that read "Can I be a mongoose?" before she looked over at her sleeping charge. She wondered why it was so important that she protect him. He didn't seem all that different. He just seemed overly attractive for a human. Perhaps someone in his family tree had been mated to an Anikyte. Or perhaps it was just good genes. It wasn't really any of her business who his ancestors did or didn't shag.

"I still think he's an idiot."

She murmured to no one but herself. Or so it seemed. Soft footsteps hit the hardwood floor behind her before a palm laid itself on her shoulder. She didn't flinch nor relax under the touch, but she did offer the person who's hand rested on her skin a gentle smile, which was returned.

"Israfel, he may be an idiot, but he needs your protection. Azrael and Gabriel believe he is special. I do not know why, same as you, but he has gifts that will make him valuable in the future."

"But, Michael..."

"No buts, Israfel."

The one identified as Michael said as he smiled at his sister. She was a rather witty and sarcastic one, but he loved her to death. Looking into her deep and molten orange eyes, the elder Anikyte couldn't help but think this was the path she needed to be on in order to find her happiness- as well as the happiness of this strange human. His superiors worked in mysterious ways, as far as he could tell. Reaching out to stroke her cheek, the skin pale and flawless like with most of their kind, he couldn't help but wonder if his not interfering would work out in the end. Or maybe he was just thinking too much on things.

"Michael, he's a testosterone driven idiot. All he cares about is getting women into his bed and drinking until he can't see straight. Or whatever. I highly doubt he's special...unless he's, you know, special."

With a sigh, Michael tugged on her hair, unable to stop his chuckle at her choice of words. She did speak her mind and enjoyed doing so whenever she did. They enjoyed their short moment together, just talking about duties and jokes and things they had seen in their travels until the brute on the bed yawned loudly and Michael gave her a hug goodbye. His brown hair needed to be cut and his eyes- bluer than the sea had looked so sad, it made her heart ache. She wondered if someone had died on his watch but didn't have the guts to ask him. Watching his retreating back- his white wings looking slightly dull, she felt herself reaching towards him until he vanished as if he had never been there at all. It made the sadness dig in a little deeper, but she shook it away. This is how life was for them.

Hearing her charge yawn again, she gave an irritated huff. Life sucked.​

 

[Hahvoc The Decepticon]

RE: The Ending [updated]

"Morning...."

Vax murmured, knowing someone was there. He knew it wasn't Justine, since she'd already been and gone. The person here wasn't exactly hostile or else he would have been dead already. He arose slowly, checking to make sure he hadn't been tied down to the bed. Kinky as that would have been, he wasn't up for restraints so early on the morning. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face, knowing he needed a shave desperately, scrubbing away the last remnants of sleep. He would crash later, but right now, he needed to figure out who the fuck was in his apartment and messing with his things.

The person in question didn't seem to hear because sounds still invaded his ears but not a voice. A sizzling sound hit a pan and his eyes open, focusing on the kitchen that was in his line of sight. Someone with black hair was making breakfast. Despite his income, he had picked a small apartment, so it wasn't hard to lean over and see that a woman was in his kitchen. He didn't get a shot at her face, but from her curves that he could see...all he could do was whistle. Unlike before, she seemed to have heard this and turned, piercing him with alien colored eyes that spoke volumes about her temperament.

"What are you whistling for? Get up and come get breakfast."

Snappy was indeed in her attitude, but her voice...it was the kind of voice someone didn't forget because it was velvety smooth with a lilting accent he couldn't place. It was faint, hardly noticeable, but then again, he noticed the little things. Like how she had a two small beauty marks below her left eye in row, adding just a bit more mystery. It was odd how clear and pale her skin was - not exactly sheet or snow white- but it had a delicate glow like some woman did when pregnant. But this wasn't the same. Not by a long shot. His senses started to rise the hairs along his skin and she noticed the reaction; he could see it in the slight narrowing of her eyes but then she shrugged and went back to cooking.

"Your....eyes.."

Was that his voice sounding so hoarse? He didn't believe he could sound almost...frightened. Grabbing the blanket tight a moment, he forced his hands to release the covers and throw on some boxers. He was overreacting. Her eyes really weren't like liquid pools of coppery gold. No one human had eyes like that. No one human so they had to be contacts. They had to be.

"My eye color is not your concern, nor is it synthetic in anyway. Come have breakfast before I throw it at you."

He froze, the waistline of his boxers snapping hard against his skin, making him suck in a breath of pain. Rubbing his stomach, he looked over at her. She looked like some normal punk ass, a sexy punk ass, but she was still a Goth. Not that he had any real problems with Goths, but more were whiny and just...all that black got on his nerves. Besides, they all looked the same and well, she didn't look anything like them. And yet her eye color...she said it was real and he believed her. Stopping in the door way he realized he had felt some ring of truth in her words - as if her eyes were really that stunning and intoxicating color or that she'd throw his breakfast at him. What the hell was wrong with him?

She started to hum a tune, something soft and melodic, foreign sounding in nature. He wondered if perhaps she was from Ireland, or Wales. Something about her said fey or fairy folk as they were known. He'd never seen a fey, didn't really know if they were real, but perhaps this woman...

It's too early for this much thinking.

Grunting to himself, he went into the bathroom and relieved himself, thinking about the way his life was turning. Some random stranger had managed to get into his apartment. Justine hadn't been able to lock the door so that made sense. This chick obviously believed that her eyes were naturally that color -which, despite his instincts, he thought was total bullshit- and...and...why the fuck was she here?

He took his time shaving his face and getting himself decent before he stepped out to see an array of different foods. She had already cleaned and put away the pans she had used, looking at the food in a perplexed way. She looked almost nervous. Did she not know how to cook? It all looked rather delicious, if not off in a little bit just from his viewpoint. Still, he sat down, grabbed a sausage and bit into it. It was pretty good and as he chewed, he hoped he didn't suddenly die from poisoning. It was then that he felt he was being stared at. The woman seemed intent on his reactions, as if she'd never cooked in her life or maybe...

"You hungry?"

He asked, staring at her, her eyes were banked like she knew the color bothered him, or perhaps she was just annoyed with being here. As he stared, her aura came into view and was...strange. It was shimmery white with red outlining her body. It made him think of passionate innocence. She looked hardly innocent, even with her cartoon t-shirt. But he saw it then in her posture, in her closed off expression, that she really was an innocent person. Swallowing the last of the sausage so he wouldn't choke, he asked a different question.

"Are you even legal?"

That earned him a glare that only made him laugh at how intense it was. He almost felt right out of his chair, his insides hurting. She gaped at his reaction, her cheeks darkening to red streaks as she crossed her arms over her chest, making an angry sound that faded with a huff.

"Yes, I am legal! Jeez, what is it with males and needing to know such nonsense? You shouldn't be looking at your youth that way, regardless."

He wiped his eyes as he listened to her speech. It was formal, almost old world in the way she worded it. Though it did have a modern edge, she could have fit in with high society if she tried hard enough and dropped the easy anger she seemed to carry around like a shawl. Leaning over the counter to get a better look at her, she backed up as if afraid he'd touch her. He couldn't help but grin, noticing that the color of her eyes didn't bother him so much. Her reactions were distracting.

"Oh? Then why do you seem so afraid?"

"Ha! As if some male could lay harm to me."

Again, he heard that little ring of truth that made him want to believe her, but he was intrigued. This woman was practically half his height and half his weight. She looked almost fragile compared to him and his muscular frame. He got off his stool and she looked at him, curiosity staining her expression along with the last remnants of a blush.

"What are you doing?"

She asked, loosening her stance before tensing up as he prowled around the island to stand in front of her. She was so small in a way that was only feminine and he could hurt her so easily. For some reason, he felt a protectiveness arise and the need to prove that she could be hurt. And needed to be kept safe like something precious. He crowded her until she was pressed against the fridge, not looking a bit afraid but rather wary of him and his closeness. He could catch her scent now over the smell of food and it made him inhale more deeply. It was rich with cinnamon and nutmeg, mixing with lilac and vanilla, and all woman. It was such an odd yet enticing scent. Her aura shimmered as he watched, the edges darkening a bit as her emotions ranged. Interesting...he'd never seen someone's aura change like that.

"You really think you can protect yourself against someone like me? A guy like me? You're small and fragile looking. Anyone as big as me could take what they wanted."

He caged her against the fridge, moving quickly to grab her chin and make her look him in the face. Her skin was smooth, like velvet, and hot beneath his hand, making him shut his eyes a moment before opening to catch her expression. Her breath caught as she looked up at him, eyes dilating a fraction. She seemed paralyzed, as if...she'd never been touched before. He still didn't sense any fear, more like nervousness. He leaned in close, seeing her eyes narrow into a glare he was coming to like.

"You can't even move right now. What's to stop me from doing anything I wanted to you and your body?"

The words seemed to snap her out of it and she grabbed his wrist, moving his arm like it was nothing while he strained to keep his hand in place. His whole arm felt like it had numbed up from her touch, almost like it was burning. He made a pained sound and she let go, dropping his arm. He was surprised to find there wasn't a bruise. He rubbed his wrist, feeling tingles in his skin. She glared at him still before she leaned more casually against the fridge as if she'd been in his place all her life. Like she belonged there.

"You can't hurt me like you think. I'm not like your women."

She huffed, as if it was an insult to be compared to other women. As if she was above it all, or maybe because she felt they were weak? She certainly wasn't weak, he thought, as he rubbed his wrist still, feeling the strength return to the limb.

"My women? What do you mean by that?"

He snapped, suddenly feeling like his world was about to slip out from under him. She took a deep breath, looked him square in the eyes, a look so pained yet proud that he had to take a step back to take it all in. Her body language was all about nerves. If she wasn't pissed, she was nervous, he was coming to find out. As if she didn't understand how to handle people - much less him.

"Yes, your human women that parade around either like candy or sometimes like your men. You humans are such odd creatures and I am not one of you."

She combed a finger through her hair as he gaped at her. She wasn't human? Bullshit!

"That's crap."

"It is not!"

"You look human. You look like the embodiment of a human fantasy so there is no fucking way you aren't human!"

"Do humans have my eye color? No, they do not!"

"Shut up!"

"You shut up! You think that just because you have the Sight to see beyond the surface that everything should be handed to you. Well, then look harder at my profile and see what you have not seen."

She stared hard at him and he stared right back, unwilling to back down. They had started yelling and now there was just the heated silence that followed. He murmured how ridiculous this all was before he really started to look at her. Her skin glowed in the faintest way, her eyes were not normal in color - her only real give away- and her aura was unlike anything he'd ever witnessed. And then, then...he started to see the outline of angelic wings. They appeared like an echo against her back, showing the edges of the feathers and indiscernible color. Her wings weren't white, they were this blackish color with the edges of red and gold mixing in, making him think of a warrior for some reason. Staring at her, and then the shadow of wings, he backed up into the wall, almost tripping into it. Her face went paler - as if it were possible- and he must have looked horrified. She looked like she'd been slapped.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

He breathed as she reached out. Her hand dropped, anger replacing the faintest shadows of her that had lingered in her eyes. Wherever she was from, obviously, being what she was wasn't something horrific. It was her beauty and her stature, and everything about her that was suddenly horrific. He felt like he was staring at an Angel of Death. That's what he felt. That's why he felt so much like she was unreal. He was going to die.

"I am not here to take your life. I am here to protect you. I am considered a young warrior where I come from, my wings depicting my station as a Givariine.. My name...is Israfel. I am here to protect you. I'm what you humans would call a Guardian Angel and some force is out to take your life because of your Blessing."​