by Rach Elle
The large man noticed her small step and his eyes flashed back to blue. He still held out his hand and waited for her to take it on her own volition. He wasn’t forcing himself upon her, regardless of the fact he could easily do so. The old one growled deeper and spoke through grinding teeth, “Don’t touch her Junior.”
Awilda’s eyes widened as her chest tightened. She froze in place, her foot still prepared to anchor her off the ledge. A single tear welled in each eye as the memory of her grandmother came flooding back. She could clearly see the old woman sitting next to her in the cafeteria at Bain. She had come for a visit, and judging by her demeanor and the distance in her eyes Awilda assumed it would be the last. The woman looked sickly and frail. Her wrinkles were deeply etched into her skin and her hands shook when she lifted them. They didn’t say much to each other, but that wasn’t unusual. They hadn’t truly spoken in years. As always Awilda’s words carried no substance and the old woman’s were nonsensical babble. Now, standing on a ledge facing her monsters, she could remember her grandmother’s last words. “If you meet a man named Junior; trust him. Always follow a man named Junior.” She didn’t know what that meant at the time and she never cared to learn. She assumed her grandmother had gone crazy, just as everyone else thought she had.
Awilda looked at the large male hand that extended toward her. Her eyes drifted to the conflicted eyes of the old one. As he looked at her, deranged and menacing, she knew if she demanded again he would take her back to Simon. If it weren’t for Junior’s hand around his throat he would have already done so; but the situation was different now. The large, tattooed man in front of her wasn’t just a monster; he was Junior. Her grandmother’s words actually made sense and she felt overwhelmingly compelled to obey. She owed her that much.
“Never mind,” her words caught. She cleared her throat, “Don’t take me back.”
She could see the old one’s shoulders ease. Junior’s grip released and his muscles relaxed. He let go of the old one’s neck and a look of relief swept his eyes. His lips twitched upward slightly as he still waited for her hand.
Awilda willed her arm to lift. She placed her tiny hand in the massive palm of Junior and watched as his long, tanned fingers curled around her fair skin. Gently, he pulled her away from the ledge and toward his six-foot-six frame. “That’s better,” he said softly.
The door to the stairwell opened and an old woman stepped out onto the rooftop. She carried two pairs of pants in her arms. The old man graciously took them from her and threw one pair to Junior.
The two men changed into their new jeans as Awilda tried to avert her eyes from Junior’s exposed thighs. She studied the woman for a moment, recognizing her from outside the asylum. She wondered if she too was a monster.
Junior could see Awilda staring at his Responsibility. He zipped his pants and turned to the girl. “Her name is Elizabeth; she’s with us.”
“Is she one of you too?” Awilda asked quietly.
“No.”
Elizabeth walked toward Awilda and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You look uneasy,” She cooed. “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”
Crisp ran into Sunders’ flat. His heart was racing and his breathing was rapid. He paced back and forth as Sunders walked through the door and shut it behind him.
“Alright,” he started, “just calm down.”
“Fuck you.” Crisp growled. “They’re going to kill her. We need to find them!”
“I know; and I have a way.”
Crisp stopped pacing and looked at the dark haired Scotsman, “How?”
Sunders smiled proudly. “She’s wearing a tracking device. All we have to do is activate it online and it’ll bring us right to her.”
“Then let’s do it.” Crisp ran to Sunders’ desk and opened his laptop.
“It’s pointless now. There’s no way we can go up against those two creatures alone.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?” Crisp’s tone was flat and dark.
“The Protectors I spoke of earlier; they’ll be more prepared to handle the situation and they’re already on their way here. I say we wait for them and then attack once the numbers are in our favor.”
“And what if they kill Awilda before then?”
“If they wanted to kill her then they would have snapped her neck at the asylum. What you said before in my office; about Awilda being the prophecy; the prophecy speaks of gargoyles destroying the human race so hell can reign on earth. If these gargoyles believe it then it’s possible they want to keep her alive to fulfill the prophecy; not stop it.”
Crisp bit his tongue and tried to calm his spiking nerves. “And what if you’re wrong?” He asked.
Sunders sighed deeply, “Let’s pray that I’m not.”
20
Awilda sat on the edge of a hotel bed with a mattress that felt like it had seen better days. The springs creaked and moaned with every subtle movement and the large, permanent dip in the middle was visible from space. The comforter was an unsightly maroon with quilted detailing. The entire room looked like it could be on an antique road show with its pastel colors and doily covering the nightstand. A large fireplace roared and crackled across the room; emanating just enough heat to calm her anxiety to a manageable level.
Awilda found herself sharing this room with a woman who strangely resembled her own grandmother. Her name was Elizabeth. She was an elderly woman with silver hair and shallow wrinkles carved into her face. She sat still and peaceful with an open bible in her lap.
Awilda was having a hard time digesting the past seventy-two hours. Now, to make matters worse she had finally met a man named Junior. Her grandmother had said he would come into her life. How could she have possibly known? Awilda thought back to all of the other ramblings the old woman had said, but nothing seemed coherent enough to be worth remembering.
She looked around the hotel room. The light green wallpaper was old and faded; the gas fireplace sat adjacent to a tall window that overlooked a neighboring building. She wrapped her arms around her torso and crinkled her nose at the woman sitting next to her, unsure of what to say; if anything.
As if sensing she had the girl’s attention, Elizabeth looked to her, “Would you like to read with me?”
Awilda shook her head.
“It might help give you guidance in times like these.”
She tried to be as diplomatic as possible, “I don’t really look to God for guidance.”
“Why is that?” Elizabeth asked.
Awilda thought for a moment. “I don’t know if I believe.”
“You don’t have to; just trust.”
She scoffed, “That’s kind of asking a lot.”
“Why?”
“You don’t find it at all terrifying to know there are shape-shifting monsters that walk among us?”
“No.”
“Well, I do. It’s like all of a sudden I’m a part of a dark underworld that I don’t understand.” She raised her eyes to the popcorn ceiling. “I just want to go back to a normal life; whatever that may be.”
Elizabeth closed the bible in her lap. “As someone who’s been a part of this world for a long time, I can assure you, you’re blessed to know about it. Those ‘shape-shifting monsters’, as you call them, are strong and valiant men who would die to protect others. They’re not a part of an underworld, they’re angels that watch over us; Junior especially. Not even he realizes his divine purpose; but it would behoove you to respect him.”
“And what is his divine purpose?”
Elizabeth smiled, “You.”
Junior and Kingsley walked away from the reception desk. They’d secured another room for the night at a discounted rate the hotel wasn’t advertising. Kingsley couldn’t stop rolling his eyes as the woman behind the desk giggled and flirted and pinched her chest with her arms to give Junior as much of a cleavage shot as possible; but that was a fairly normal occurrence for the kid. Kingsley couldn’t remember the last time some young, attra
ctive stranger had thrown themselves at him. In fact, upon further contemplation he realized it had never happened. He shrugged off the thought and with his cane in hand he entered the elevator with Junior.
The two stood in the small, enclosed space shoulder to shoulder. Junior was a large man under normal circumstances, but in a tiny elevator like this he was obscenely massive. He held his large hands clasped as they hung in front of his body and his t-shirt strained to fit over his biceps and pectorals. His strong jaw cast a shadow along his neck and his deep blue eyes studied the changing floor numbers displayed above the doors; waiting for their number to arrive.
“What’s our next move?” Junior asked.
“I don’t know; we need to move somewhere, but I highly doubt the girl will cooperate with us this early on. She doesn’t have family ties, but she seems awfully fond of that blonde doctor. We need to get her to forget him and move on with us.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
Kingsley raised his brows in thought. “We can answer all of her questions for starters. I’m sure her brain is on sensory overload at the moment.” He glanced at his friend through his periphery. “Maybe you could work your charm on her. You know, give her a crush to cling to?”
“Or…” Junior grumbled.
“Or we could be patient and wait for Stockholm to set in.”
Elizabeth could feel she was in the presence of something awesome. She knew the girl was special and if the legend was true – dangerous. Still, it was clear Awilda had no idea the power that lied within her. This was her chance to help guide her onto the path of light. Elizabeth continued, “As I’ve said, Junior would die to protect others, and you are no exception, my dear.”
“Protect me from what?”
“From whatever threatens you; he’s your guardian angel; an answered prayer.”
“I stopped praying a long time ago.” Awilda lowered her eyes to the folded hands resting in her lap. “I spent too many years praying for some sort of relief from my nightmares. Instead they only got worse. You can’t imagine what it’s like to feel like you always have one foot in hell; to have nothing to do each day except wait for someone or something to push you one step further. I prayed diligently; I begged for a sign that everything would be okay; that I wasn’t condemned. I prayed for someone to help me but no one ever could. You can’t understand how helpless I was, and still am. Eventually I just gave up.”
“He’s helping you now.”
Awilda rolled her eyes, “Yeah, over a decade later.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Well,” her tone was flat, “I’m afraid that you alone are not on the top of the Lord’s priority list. Perhaps He had more pressing matters to attend to?”
“I didn’t mean…”
“I suggest you stop victimizing yourself and realize you are not as helpless as you claim to be. Whether you appreciate it or not your prayer has been answered. You have the chance to learn about these monsters and learn to love them, like I know you will.” Elizabeth thought for a moment before taking a deep breath, “but if by some chance your nightmares are due to a true existence of evil then you can be grateful to have those men in your life. They’ll go to bat for you… every time. Either way, I think a little gratitude is in order.” When Awilda didn’t say anything, Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped in concession. “It’s a good thing the Lord doesn’t do things for the ‘thank you’.”
Awilda sat in silence. She didn’t know how to respond to the old woman. Instead she focused on the quiet twiddling of her thumbs, wishing she could better understand her situation. She didn’t feel threatened by the shape-shifters anymore; at least not Junior. Elizabeth seemed to be unwaveringly on their side. Somehow it eased her anxiety. Over seventy-two hours without her medication had her on edge; not to mention she had just been abducted by flying shape-shifters. Elizabeth was the only semblance of normal and she was grateful for her. Even though she was lecturing her on being an egomaniac her voice had a softness that Awilda craved. If the old woman trusted the two monsters then it must not be a fatal mistake to do the same.
The room’s door swung open and Junior entered followed by the old one named Kingsley. Awilda could feel calmness shroud the room as she took in the grand stature of Junior. He was tall and his shoulders were broad. His strides were long and his hair sat still in an unmoving buzz cut. He walked over to the kitchenette and opened the refrigerator to grab a beer before taking a seat in front of the fireplace.
Kingsley walked over to the window, smiling at Elizabeth as he passed. His eyes shifted to Awilda for only an instant, but that was all it took for them to harden and ice over. She hated the way he looked at her; like he hated her very existence. “So,” he began, trying to sound pleasant and jovial, “what have you two been talking about?”
“I think she has a lot of questions for you.” Elizabeth answered.
“Shoot.” King prompted, he forced a smile as he looked at the thin girl.
Awilda didn’t want to speak to the old man. He made her uneasy. As he sat on the windowsill he was more intimidating than the massive one sitting in front of the fireplace. His stare was cold and void of any emotion. She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t ignore the man named Junior. Out of all the crazy rants and nonsensical ramblings she’d heard her grandmother recite over recent years one of them actually made sense. Besides, even if she tried to leave she had a feeling the three surrounding her wouldn’t allow it.
Awilda took a deep breath, “So,” she began timidly, “you’re really gargoyles.”
Kingsley shrugged, “I suppose; that’s the name humans give us. Just as you’ve decided that tables are called tables and lamps are called lamps; we are called gargoyles.”
“What do you call yourselves?”
“Shifters, mostly; but that’s really more of an explanation of what we do, not what we are. There could be millions of shifters in the world; not all of them resigned to our alternate form. We won’t be offended if you prefer gargoyle.”
“Why did you abduct me? And please don’t say to protect me; I need a specific answer.”
Kingsley exhaled a large breath and looked to Junior who sipped his beer in front of the fire. His lips twitched upward in a slight smile. Even though Awilda wasn’t demanding specifics, Kingsley felt it necessary to oblige. If he wanted her to trust them then he needed to be straight forward. “Because you’re my Responsibility,” He looked into her eyes.
She crinkled her nose, “Your what?”
“Every gargoyle has a Responsibility. Our sole purpose in life is to protect them at all costs. There is no rhyme or reason as to when we find them and who gets to watch over whom; at least none that we’ve been able to figure out; but the moment I saw you I knew you were mine, kid.”
Awilda looked to Junior. If either of them was sworn to protect her she’d assume it was him. He had touched and looked at her with a sincerity she’d never imagined her monsters were capable of. “Do you have one?” She asked.
Junior took another pull from his bottle and winked across the room at Elizabeth. Awilda took that as his answer, and the existence of Elizabeth in this little circle suddenly made much more sense. Everything she’d said about these two gargoyles protecting her resonated throughout her body. She opened her mouth to ask another question but was cut off by the old man.
“Junior and I have agreed we don’t want you two staying in the same room. There are people looking for Awilda. If they find her and there’s crossfire we don’t want Elizabeth to be caught in it. We’re splitting up; two and two.”
Awilda could feel her body tense. She didn’t want to be away from Elizabeth. Seeing her alive and well was the only assurance she had for survival. Still, the gargoyle’s intentions seemed noble enough and Elizabeth appeared unfazed by the arrangement. She looked at Kingsley and took a deep breath. “So I’ll be staying with you then?” She tried not to cringe. If there was one person in this group she did not want to be alone with it was her own
personal gargoyle, Kingsley.
“No,” he answered, “we’re switching Responsibilities for the night.”
Awilda crinkled her nose, “Like… a gargoyle swinger’s club?”
Kingsley’s head shot toward the fire at a sound that he hadn’t heard in too many years; Junior, although short and under his breath, laughed. Kingsley almost didn’t recognize the sound. For too long Junior had been stoic and bitter. He made wisecracks every now and then but no one, not even Elizabeth, had been able to bring the sound of laughter to his lips; not since that night her late husband put her in the hospital. Ever since then he’d almost been deflated of all life. Junior quickly resumed drinking his beer. He glanced at his old friend, perhaps just as surprised as he was.
Kingsley turned back to Awilda and answered, “Of sorts; it’s for your own protection.” He held out his hand to Elizabeth, who gladly took it and allowed him to help her to her feet. She led the way to the door. Before leaving the hotel room Kingsley grabbed the remainder of the six pack in the fridge and turned off the light. “It’s late. If we don’t want anyone finding our new friend then maybe we shouldn’t be shining a light like a beacon. Let’s try to blend in, shall we?” He closed the door behind him.
Awilda sat in the now dark room; the only light emanating from the crackling fireplace. The flames cast harsh shadows across Junior’s strong jaw and profile. He looked almost regal as he sat in a large, plush chair underneath an oversized print of Big Ben that hung above the mantel. She inhaled deeply before speaking, “I don’t fully understand the scope of what it means to have a Responsibility; but I suppose what you’ve told me explains why you abducted me in the first place. What I don’t understand is where do you plan to go from here?”
