SciFi and Fantasy Stories: At World's End

Pollen drifted along the vagrant breeze, dipping and swirling in the eddies that made their way amongst the sentinel poplar and vigilant birch. It came to delicately rest upon the gleaming black barrel trained with needlepoint precision on its target. A few yards away, a white-tailed buck grazed amongst the verdant dogwood bushes, unaware of its imminent peril. The trigger was squeezed, the bullet about to be discharged when an unanticipated crack rent the tranquility of the forest, causing the hunter to start, his shot going wide.

The man watched, a curse leaving his lips as the buck shot off like the bullet that was supposed to have been its end. What in the name of Pete had interrupted his hunting? If Bently had let yet another imbecile reporter into his private sanctuary he vowed that this time he would shoot the incompetent butler.

Determined to ferret the weasel out, he flicked the safety and headed to the spot the sound had come from. If it did turn out to be a reporter, he would put a boot in his ass that he wouldn’t be in the way of forgetting anytime soon. The meddlesome things had obviously not learned that prying into his life would earn a quick ticket to flat tires and shrapnel sprayed at their feet.

When he reached the small rise from which he was certain the sound had come, he wasn’t startled to find it empty. Now the fun kicked in. Let the hunt begin. Carefully scanning the surrounding brush, he searched for the glint of light reflecting on a lens. If they wanted to see a hunter, he would give them one.

Crouching down, David examined the nearby ground for signs of human disturbance as the thrill of the hunt welled within him. He had covered half the area when he came across a rather large, oblong score in the bracken and leaf litter – as if something had been dragged. Very peculiar. Measuring the width with his hands, it appeared to be a meter wide and a little over ten meters long. It was also deep, which suggested that the object was heavy. Noticing something amidst the scuffle, he dipped his fingers and brought them to his nose – blood – he would recognize that smell anywhere. Now the question was, whose? Looking up, it was then that he noticed a white scrap of what he mistook to be cloth. As he moved closer, he realized that wasn’t right. It was – feathers, white feathers. David’s forehead furrowed as he scowled. Was this some kind of joke, teenage hooligans playing their tricks? If he found out who had trespassed, they would get more than a tongue-lashing. This was private property.

Moving a step closer to examine the feathers, he almost toppled over when his foot met resistance. Stumbling to the side, he glared down, annoyed with whatever object had dared to trip him. What he saw had his eyes going wide in astonishment.

There, where nothing had been a minute ago was another white scrap of something, and this one did appear to be cloth. Crouching down next to it, David hesitated slightly before reaching out to touch the material where it hovered above the ground. Yelping, he threw himself backward and, unable to move his legs fast enough, toppled onto the dirt. The cloth hadn’t moved! It had, in fact, felt like there was something beneath it when his eyes told him there was nothing.

It took him a few minutes of deep breaths before his nerves settled enough for him to approach, on guard for any further strange developments. This time David prodded the object with the toe of his boot and was alarmed when it seemed to grow. Jaw dropping in a mixture of bewilderment and trepidation, he watched as whatever it was continued to spread, revealing a growing amount of cloth.

His mind was racing to all sorts of different conclusions, none of them possible except on the exorbitant science fiction shows he occasionally treated himself to on the television. When it seemed to be finished, he couldn’t believe his eyes. There was no possible way that he could be seeing what was lying on the ground in front of him, they didn’t exist. He didn’t believe in angels.

Closing his eyes, David pinched the bridge of his nose in confusion as he willed the illusion to fade. But when he opened his eyes again, the sentient looking being was still sprawled on the forest floor in front of him. He could see her breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the faint pulse at the base of her neck. She really was the most breathtaking creature he had ever beheld and why should she not be, since she was from his imagination? With hair dark as a raven’s wing and just as graceful. Granted, it was strewn with twigs and leaves from the surrounding forest, but the messiness of it only made her look that much more angelic. Her face held graceful curves, soft valleys and gentle sloping hills. David found himself inexplicably wondering what color her eyes were and whether they would match the creaminess of her complexion or the dark satin of her hair. Her face was inexorably beautiful, but his gaze was drawn back again and again to the wings that curved out from beneath her.

After having stared at the creature for quite some time, he shook himself like a dog as he realized he might as well put the niggling question at the back of his brain to rest. Reaching out a slightly sweaty palm, he grabbed the arm nearest him and gave it a pinch. Its solidity beneath his fingers caused a small tremor of something akin to fear to make its way down his spine and settle in the vicinity of his stomach, squeezing until he thought he might throw up. This could be no illusion, for David had felt her skin beneath his fingers.

Now that he had discerned that she was, in fact, not an object of his imagination, he had absolutely no idea what to do next. What was to be ones course of action when they had found an angel crashed in the middle of their forested estate? He couldn’t very well carry her into his house and expect the few employees working for him to keep quiet about her. First of all, how was he to even get her to the house? Her wings alone probably weighed more than he did. He couldn’t believe he had just thought that – her wings. What in the world was happening to him?

Lost in his thoughts, David missed her stirring, and when he next glanced at her it was to see black eyes misted with pain and not a small amount of fright. Remaining calm and motionless was no small accomplishment for him when all David’s instincts shouted at him to move, fight, do anything other than stand there staring at a creature that had no right to exist.

If one of them didn’t break the silence soon, he feared he would go mad. He was just about to blurt out the rather idiotic question “who are you?” when she blinked and tears trickled from the corners of her eyes to disappear amongst her blanket of hair. David shrank from her as the age-old male dread of women’s hysterics surfaced. He feared that watching an angel cry would be infinitely worse.

“My wing hurts,” the woman whispered, her eyes closing as her lips trembled. David watched in horror as more tears squeezed from between her closed lids.

“P-please don’t cry,” David stuttered, desperately hoping she would stop. He didn’t know what to do and it made him feel self-conscious just standing there.

He watched as her eyes opened and she gazed about her in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Pardon?” Perplexed by the sudden shift in conversation, David was relieved to see that her tears seemed to be subsiding.

“How can you see me?”

David was taken aback. “Am I not supposed to be able to?”

The woman shook her head, causing her cascade of tangled hair to pick up more bracken. “I’ve never been seen before now.” Lifting her head, she winced as it pulled on her wings. “I need help getting to my feet, I think my wing was injured when I clipped that tree.”

David helped her to her feet, watching consternation fill her eyes as she stared into the distance. “I hit a tree … how did I hit a tree, I’m not of this world.” The last sounded like a wail, and David worried yet again that she might reduce to hysterics.

“Where did you come from?” David asked, perplexed by this being before him of which no other word would fit to describe but angel. Now that she was on her feet, her wings were magnificent. Soft gray, they shimmered with threads of silver in the light filtering through the leafy canopy.

She stopped the slight fussing with her clothes and stared at him, eyes unreadable. “I don’t think I’m supposed to answer that.”

David was even more confused. “Why not?”

“I’m not entirely sure but I think it has something to do with the reason you couldn’t see me before.” Noticing him ogling her wings, she turned, asking, “How bad does it look? It hurts too much for me to extend it and look myself.”

Moving behind her, David looked over the wing where it hung limply. “It doesn’t look to be broken.”

The woman inhaled sharply as his fingers accidentally brushed her feathers. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Their eyes met, his full of concern, and she shook her head.

“No. It’s just that no one has ever touched my wings before and they appear to be sensitive.”

“Never?” He asked, incredulous. Who could resist the temptation of touching such beauty? “What kind of place did you live in? Wait, are you even alive?” He ran his hand nervously through his hair, making the short chestnut curls stand out chaotically.

A chiming laugh escaped her lips as she lowered her eyelashes. “I cannot die, if that’s what you mean. But I am as alive as you and everything around you.” At that she looked about, eyes wide in wonder. “I had no idea it was as beautiful as this.”

“Haven’t you been here before?”

“Yes, I get the feeling that I have, several times. But it never looked like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“The colors are so vibrant, everything is full of such life. It never looked like this before,” she saw the puzzlement in his eyes and amended, “that I can remember.”

Carefully walking over to a leaning birch, she lay her hand on its trunk and circled it, reveling in the feel of the bark beneath her fingertips. “Everything is so solid. It almost has the feeling of my home. I think.” David watched her brow's swoop down, creating twin birds scowling over her expressive eyes.

“You don’t remember?” He prompted tentatively, afraid of upsetting her.

“No,” the word was drawn out, underlining her uncertainty.

“That will need looking after,” David pointed at her wing trailing in the leaves. “You have most likely bruised it, and there are some cuts to the skin underneath.”

The woman’s face fell a little. “I suppose it will. It most likely won’t heal in the usual manner or it already would have.”

David let her words wash over him as their meaning eluded his grasp. “If you wait here, I can pull the car around. I’m sure I’ve got some supplies at the house.”

“Those are the moving cages you sit in, are they not?”

“Yes.” He would need to dismiss his employees before he picked her up, and as he walked off to get the car he began making a mental list of everything that would need doing.

David stared at the kettle on the stove, willing it to boil faster. The angel, who had introduced herself as Cali on their drive over, was currently in his living room. She was probably rummaging around in things that didn’t need to be rummaged in and the sooner he got the water boiled and was back in the room, the better.

Cali turned from the mantle where she had been studying framed photos and gave David a polite smile as he entered. “Is this your wife?” She pointed to a photo of a woman with wheat blond hair holding onto the shoulder of a toddler who looked like she would much rather be out running around instead of taking portraits. “She’s lovely. And your daughter is as beautiful as her mother.”

“I don’t want to hear you talk about them.” Walking over, he grabbed the photo from the mantle and shoved it in a drawer of his writing desk, shutting it with more force than necessary.

David saw her lips purse as her eyes narrowed, assessing, and he didn’t like it. He hated the scrutiny, people always trying to guess what he was feeling; wondering if today would be the day he cracked. He got enough of it from the paparazzi and he certainly didn’t need any in his own home.

Dropping the container of medical supplies on the coffee table with a crash, he waited impatiently for her to sit on the stool in front of him. Faced once again with her wing, its feathers trailing over the carpet, his insecurities returned and he hesitated. “I’ve never done this before, I’ve only ever worked on human flesh. This job would be better suited to a veterinarian.”

Cali glanced at him over her shoulder. “I trust you.”

“I’m not sure that you should,” he mumbled under his breath, too low for Cali to catch as he reached into the kit and pulled out some rubbing alcohol and a cloth.

“This might sting a little,” he said, loud enough for her to hear as he wet the cloth and gently dabbed where blood marred the luminescent beauty of her feathers.

He watched as the muscles twitched beneath the fabric of Cali’s shirt and she drew in her breath with a hiss.

“You’re right, that does sting,” she whimpered and David could see her pinching the skin of her forearm to distract herself from the pain in her wing.

Quickly finishing up, David resisted the urge to pat her on the shoulder like he would any of his regular patients. Instead, he settled on clasping his hands together with a loud clap and exclaiming in a gruff voice, “Well, looks like you have some bruising to the bone and surrounding muscle tissue, along with a few scrapes. It should be right as rain in a few days.”

Trying to glance over her shoulder, Cali mumbled, “It doesn’t feel like it will be right as rain.”

“Yes, well.” Suddenly, David found he could contain his curiosity no longer. Grabbing a stool from a neighboring armchair, he dragged it over and promptly sat in front of Cali.

“Cali, I can’t help wondering where you’re from. And since I have been so kind as to help you, don’t you think you could at least tell me something? Even if it is a lie, anything to appease my curiosity is better than nothing.”

Frowning, Cali fiddled with a lock of raven hair that had settled along her cheek. “I’m not sure if I’m able to explain it, I don’t entirely understand how it works myself.”

“Just try, the suspense might very well have me expiring on this stool any moment if you don’t,” David exaggerated and was rewarded by the quirking of her lips.

“I know I belong to a different dimension, which must play a part in why you were not able to see me before,” Cali began.

“What is this other dimension like?”

“Oh, nothing like this,” Cali glanced about the room. “Not at all like this. There aren’t things in my dimension, nothing has shape. It is all feelings and impressions.”

David gazed into her perceptive eyes, knowing that confusion was written all over his face.

“Oh dear,” Cali sighed, sounding frustrated. “I knew you would have trouble understanding, this is why I didn’t want to try and explain. You have to be there to understand it. Even just being in this dimension is making me forget.”

David didn’t want her to stop explaining, so he tried to talk his way through it. “You say that nothing has shape, and there aren’t things. Does this mean that you live in empty space?”

Cali pondered for a moment before her mouth twisted upwards at the corners. “Of sorts. It’s full of light and warmth and emotions, such varied emotions. They wrap around you caressingly like starlight, impossible to actually see but inescapable in their beauty. And then there’s Him.”

David was captivated by the look of rapture on Cali’s face as she spoke that last word. “God?”

Cali shook her head. “You humans put too many names on things, as if that one word could define the entire object. He is impossible to define with one word. He has no name, no gender, no beginning or end.”

“If He has no gender, then why do you call Him a he?”

“I don't know. I guess because nothing else fits. We couldn’t call Him an it, for He isn’t a thing. He has no physical body and occupies no time or space.”

“If he doesn’t occupy time or space, how do you know he is there?”

“He speaks to us, to me. His voice is the interweaving of the very paramount of sunlight, moonshine, and starlight.”

“Us?”

“There are others like me, their threads just as special in their designated weave in the fabric of our intricate design.”

“Wait,” David shook his head, slightly frustrated, “you lost me. Threads? Design of what?”

“Something He has planned. I don’t know what purpose I was created for, just that I am.”

“And the threads?”

“Not threads, really. Perhaps I should not have used that word, but it is hard to find anything in your language capable of communicating the greatness and complexity of my existence.”

“I must admit that I’m a little puzzled as to why you would ever want to leave your dimension for ours. It sounds a little anticlimactic.”

Cali grinned. “It is, if you look at it from your point of view,” her face fell and David wondered if she were again thinking of the fact that he could see her.

“Has it never happened before?”

“No. I’ve never had a physical being before now. In my own dimension I am as close in likeness to Him as is possible, so in some ways, I am not entirely there as well.”

“So you’re energy, just existing in an aspect of space parallel to ours,” David pondered aloud to himself. “Energy exists at different frequencies. It’s possible that your dimension operates on a different frequency than ours, thereby allowing you to remain of your dimension, without wholly entering ours. But then how did you cross over, what caused you to change frequencies?” Shaking his head, David got an idea. “Come with me.” Grabbing Cali’s hand, he led her through a maze of tastefully decorated hallways and up a flight of stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“To my gym.”

“I don’t think now would be the best time for me to exercise.”

David laughed and was startled by the sound as they stopped in front of the door to his weight room. To cover his unease he cleared his throat and smiled at Cali, motioning her into the room as he turned the handle.

The door opened into a spacious room spotted with the hulking metal forms of exercise machines. Sunlight poured through awning windows set high on the facing wall, but this wasn’t what David had brought Cali up here to see, and it wasn’t what caused him to stop and stare as she moved into the room.

The sunlight reflected off the studio-sized mirrors on both adjacent walls, illuminating the room to almost blinding brightness. And in the middle of it all, oblivious to her surroundings, stood Cali, captivated by the windows and their sweeping display of sunlight. Sunbeams caught the dust in the air, transforming them into shimmering motes of glitter raining about Cali’s ethereal outline. She truly was beautiful.

“Look into the mirror Cali,” David whispered, hesitant to break the peaceful silence. It had been a long time since any silence in this house had seemed peaceful.

Turning, he watched as Cali caught sight of herself in the mirror and gasped, eyes going wide. “Is that me?” Not waiting for an answer, she moved closer, tracing her outline on the reflective surface.

David watched her, his face slowly sagging into sad lines until he looked up and met the reflection of her eyes in the mirror. Straightening his back, he rearranged his features into stony lines, eyes hardening as he refused to drop them.

Turning, Cali studied him a moment before opening her mouth. “What happened to your daughter?”

David had been ready to brush away whatever comment Cali made, but the simplicity of her request stopped him. Shoulders drooping, he turned his back to her and stared out the window. “My daughter died while playing with my gun.”

Saying it bluntly did nothing to ease the guilt and pain that were clawing their way to be free, shredding his insides. It was his fault his daughter had died, his fault his wife’s car drove off the bridge.

He hadn’t heard her move, but suddenly Cali was behind him, her comforting arms wrapping around him without a word escaping her lips. White light pooled around him as her feathers closed in a tent about him, sheltering him from the outside world as his shoulders began to shake with sobs. It was all his fault.

Cali stood with him like that for what felt like hours, not speaking any words, just offering the physical comfort of a sympathetic soul. When his sobs had run their course, he lay his head back on her shoulder, staring up at the peak of her wingspan, exhausted.

“Caroline and I sat for hours in the hospital waiting room as they tried to prevent her heart from stopping during the surgery. But she’d lost so much blood. It was all over my shirt and hands, caked on my neck from where I’d held her as Caroline called the ambulance.” He grasped Cali’s hand like a lifeline, seeking comfort as he continued in his deadened voice. “When the doctor came out, something inside me died. I just knew she hadn’t made it, and it was my fault. If I had cleaned out that gun instead of asking Gerald to do it, there was no way that a bullet would’ve been there when my daughter found it.”