Guardian Angel

by Trebus, David

Jasmine said nothing in the elevator, humming to herself and rocking on the balls of her feet. It irritated Michael, but he decided not to raise the issue. On the ground floor, Michael made his way to the reception desk, opposite the elevator exit. The waiting area was very quiet, with only a solitary old man sitting at the far end.

  Michael walked up to the desk and pressed the bell, summoning a young male nurse. He looked exhausted, and his guardian looked down on her charge in concern.

  “Can I help you?” the nurse asked.

  “I was told by my doctor to inform you when I left. I'm checking out today.”

  “Name, please, sir?” The nurse asked flatly, a tired expression on his face.

  “Michael Andrews.”

  The nurse paused for a moment, looking at his computer screen and then searching for a sheet of paper. “OK Mr Andrews, sign here and you're set to go. Take care,” He pointed to where Michael had to sign the sheet of paper, and then turned back to his work without waiting for a reply. Michael didn't trouble him any further, seeing how worn out he looked. He did wonder why he looked so tired. Nothing much was happening here, but it would be a different story in A&E. Perhaps he'd already done a shift there.

  Michael left the hospital with Jasmine in tow. She wasn't getting in the way much or talking to him, which was a relief in some ways. Perhaps she wouldn't be too intrusive, after all, unless something important had to be said. She could be like a good friend who was there but knew when to take a step back and give him space.

  This illusion was shattered when they reached the taxi rank. He found a taxi fairly quickly and got in. Jasmine followed through the door and sat right next to Michael, almost hugging him, and her proximity made him feel strangely self-conscious Talk about invading personal space.

  “Where to, guv?” the cabbie asked.

  “Crouch End, near the Green Dragon, please, mate”

  “Sure thing,” the cabbie said, moving off from the rank.

  Jasmine whispered into Michael’s ear as they began moving on, hugging his arm slightly. “I’m so pleased you're OK!”

  Michael felt even more embarrassed and tried to pull away. “Uhhh thanks!” He almost squeaked the words out.

  “No need to thank me yet mate, not even got you there,” the cabbie replied.

  Jasmine giggled and pulled away as Michael sighed and sat back, resting his head on the seat. He hoped there wouldn't be too many embarrassing moments like that. How could he talk to Jasmine in public without people thinking he was talking to them? Unless, of course, they just thought he was just plain crazy. Another quandary he would have to address at some point.

  "You don't need to talk to me in public," she said, "as long as you can hear me. Also, there’s a little trick to it. If you focus on me and think the words, then I can hear your thoughts. It might be a little easier than embarrassing yourself in front of big cabbies. I mean, imagine if you were to call me pretty in public. You might end up with an admirer you could do without!”

  Michael focused his thoughts to form a few word. “Pretty….yeah, right”

  Jasmine pinched him hard in the arm. Clearly, insulting a guardian angel’s looks had consequences. Michael rubbed his arm and grinned. At least he knew the little trick Jasmine had taught him worked.

  Michael noticed the cabbie looking at him in the rear view mirror. He hoped he wasn't thinking that he was some mental patient on the run, high, or on drugs. The cabbie increased his speed, causing Michael to give him an awkward smile.

  The rest of the journey proved uneventful. It only took twenty minutes to get back close to home, and the cabbie deftly navigated the traffic, avoiding several roadworks and jams. He pulled up just outside the Green Dragon pub.

  “Here we go, mate, that’ll be,” he paused to look at the meter “fifteen pounds fifty, please.”

  Michael pulled out his wallet and was relieved to find a couple of tenners in there. He'd forgotten to count how much cash he actually had. He paid the cabbie, leaving some of the change as a tip, and got out of the car.

  “Cheers, mate, have a good one” the cabbie called.

  “Thanks,” Michael shut the door, and the cabbie pulled off with a quick wave as Michael turned to walk along the road to his home.

  “You know," Jasmine remarked, "that’s one of the reasons I’m pleased to be your guardian, Michael. You have such a generous nature”

  “Thanks. I just try to be decent to people,” Michael blushed.

  It wasn't far to his house from the pub, just two minutes down the main road, and then down a side street. It would have been easier to be dropped at the other end of the high street, where he'd had the accident, but he wasn't sure he could face that yet.

  He began walking, with Jasmine at his side, not really paying attention to the world around him. After a while, he raised his head and took a good look around, and the sight stopped in his tracks, he took a deep breath. A strange sense of anxiety hit his guts.

  All around him, life was going on, hundreds of people in the street going to work, or the shops, driving or walking about their daily business. All around him people, got on with their lives, and for every single person, Michael saw an angel.

  Chapter 3: Life Goes On

  Nothing could have prepared Michael for this. It was one thing to see Jasmine or another person’s angel individually, but now he was seeing dozens, even hundreds of them all in one place. The surreal vision was almost too much for Michael; his breathing became heavy, and he was drenched in sweat. He tried to make his limbs move, but they refused. He just stood staring, as humans and their angels moved around him.

  Jasmine had predicted that Michael would have to go through this moment. She had decided not to sugar coat it and to let him face it quickly rather than trying to baby-step him through it. He would have to get used to it one day, better sooner rather than later. Besides there were methods to deal with such things, or at least she hoped so. Jasmine gently placed her hand in his and hummed a song, trying to soothe Michael’s mind.

  Michael was awestruck; the population of the world to his eyes had just doubled. He looked up and saw still more angels flying to and fro. Was that an angel flying alongside a light aircraft as it buzzed over the busy city? He should have expected it, but still, how could he have prepared himself? He tried not to imagine what a crowd at a concert or football stadium would look like.

  Taking deep breaths, Michael managed to slow his breathing, and relax a bit. The shock was wearing off, and he had to accept what was happening. Anxiety would not change it, and, as none of the angels were aware of him, there was no threat to him. Why was he even so worried?

  “How are you doing?” Jasmine asked her voice so soft he could barely hear it.

  “Better. It was just such a big thing to take in, the scale of it. Pretty embarrassing reaction though.” Michael fought the impulse to blurt the words out all at once.

  Jasmine smiled. “To be honest I'd say you handled it very well. I mean, everything since this started. You’ve managed to keep your head, but some anxiety is to be expected, with all that's happened to you in such a short time. So don’t be hard on yourself.”

  “I don’t know if I'll ever get used to this...” Michael trailed off, staring up towards the High Street.

  “You will. Think of your first time in a crowd as a kid. It was scary, but you got used to it. All these things take time. Besides the angels will either get out of your way or you'll walk right through them”

  “What do you mean, walk right through them?”

  “Well we as guardians are only allowed to physically affect our charges and then there are strict rules even on that. We can choose to become insubstantial to everyone else. So they will never bump into us, or get interrupted in their daily lives by us. Sometimes guardians break the rules but that’s another matter.”

  “Well…" Michael wondered. "That’s half a comfort and half a worry. I think it’ll be even more freaky walking straight through other peoples guardians
as if they were ghosts!”

  Jasmine playfully punched his arm with a grin. “Stop being a baby. You'll be fine!”

  “What happened to all the sympathy?”

  “Shush, let's get you home. You can have some sympathy there. I might even make you a cup of tea.”

  Michael nodded, a bit weary after the adrenaline burst from his earlier fear. Jasmine had been right though. Already, after only a few minutes of exposure, he was getting used to the angels. As Michael walked back home, he couldn’t help but sidestep angels on instinct as they approached, trying not to bump into them. Jasmine shook her head and smiled.

  They walked slowly down the high street. Michael couldn’t wait to get back into his own house and slob out on the sofa watching TV for a while. Even though he'd spent days lying down in hospital, he was still tired and needed to relax. He had never been gladder he had been signed off work for a while.

  Michael was about to turn into his side-road when something on the edge of his vision. A scruffy-looking man in a hoodie launched himself towards a young woman, pushing a pram just past the turning. Michael had seen this before, the man’s intention was to jump the woman and probably rob her, it had almost happened to him in the past.

  He was running before he knew it. His limbs ached with the effort, but he willed them to work faster. There was no way he was going to let this woman get hurt. Jasmine ran after him, shouting something he couldn’t quite hear. The hooded man jumped at the woman, slamming his hands on her shoulders. The woman fell with a yelp, and her guardian, a blonde angel, immediately knelt beside her.

  The hooded man grabbed the woman's purse and tried to wrest it away from her. However, in her shock though she held on tight, looking panicked. Michael shoulder-barged her attacker away, knocking him to the ground. The man rolled into a crouch and stood quickly, sneering.

  “You bastard, what da fuck you think you doing.” He threw a punch at Michael's face, connecting hard and knocking Michael to the ground.

  The woman crawled round to her pram, where her baby had started screaming. The man got up and tried to kick Michael, who had yet to pick himself off the floor. Michael grabbed his foot and twisted, and the hoodie wearing man yelled more curses. There was a shout from somewhere and the man shook his foot free swearing. The mugger ran off without another word, trying to escape.

  Michael got up and tried to run after him but Jasmine held him from behind, shaking her head. As Michael's gaze followed the thief, something seemed very wrong not with the man himself, but his guardian angel, who looked warped, twisted in some way.

  Chains grew out of the ground wrapping around her legs and hooking into her tattered wings. She probably had been beautiful once, but her clothing was stained black and red, and her features were distorted. She turned to regard Michael as she followed her charge. Her eyes glowed red and he could just make out two protrusions forming on her forehead. She hissed at him, before disappearing into a side street. The look on that angel’s face sent a chill through Michael’s body.

  An elderly man was helping the woman up, while his wife approached Michael and put her hand on his shoulder. The victim clutched her baby to her chest and sobbed uncontrollably, the shock of what had happened starting to wear off. The man helped her to the ground, where she sat cross-legged rocking her baby back and forth. She looked up at Michael and mouthed the words “Thank you” through her sobs, her angel mirroring the gesture.

  “You did a good thing there son. Me and my husband saw it all. Are you ok?”

  Michael blinked trying to shake the image of the mugger’s guardian out of his mind before replying. His face ached where he had been hit but otherwise he felt ok; just shaken up, and very tired.

  “I’m fine, thanks. Last thing I expected to be doing today though.”

  “Well you did a very good thing. You should be proud,” the elderly woman said, walking over to her husband and away from him.

  Michael didn’t feel like hanging around, especially not for the drama of having to give a statement to the police - assuming they were even called and turned up. Mugging was routine in London. It was a sad reflection of how inner city society had developed.

  He knelt beside the victim to look her over and check if she was ok before getting up and walking off. No one made any protest and the old couple said they would stay by the young woman. Michael thanked them and walked off. Jasmine supported him clutching both her slender hands to Michael’s arm.

  “That lady was right, you know. You did do a very good, but a bit of a stupid thing. You're not exactly on top form yet.”

  “I couldn’t help myself, It was instinct. I hate people preying on the vulnerable” Michael yawned and rubbed his cheek absent mindedly. He was going to have a nasty bruise there by tomorrow.

  “That I guess is what makes me happy to be your guardian - your stubborn good nature.”

  “Jasmine… I have a question…the mugger’s angel…something...was...”

  “Now's not the time for that. Let’s just get you home, OK?”

  “No, it's not OK. Tell me, what was wrong with her, I want an answer” Michael persisted feeling like he needed to know.

  Jasmine sighed as they stopped outside Michael’s door. She turned to look straight into his eyes.

  “She was…one of the fallen...or, well, not yet but she was falling. Her charge’s soul was corrupt, and he was dragging her down with him, bit by bit, down into the pit where she'll become...a demon.”

  Michael felt his stomach lurch. It figured if there were angels, that demons would also exist, but to see an angel falling in front of his eyes was like something out of a supernatural horror movie.

  “Now, let's get you inside. This isn’t the time or the place to be talking about demons. No more questions, I'll tell you everything you want to know soon. I promise.” Jasmine said cutting off any further complaints from Michael.

  He wearily climbed up the steps, unlocking the door and made his way straight into his living room. Michael dumped himself on the sofa, and, without thinking switched on the TV; the news was on, talking about tax rises and more MP's fiddling expenses.

  Jasmine sat herself down gently next to him, carefully folding her wings. She stretched them out slightly, so they rested on top of the sofa cushions perfectly. It occurred to Michael that she was probably well practiced at it, she'd been doing it ever since he had been living there. How many times had Jasmine sat next to him without him even knowing?

  Michael leaned his head back on the sofa cushion and took a deep breath, sighing as he released it. The last few days had totally changed his life, but here he was sitting in front of his sofa watching telly, just like normal. Well aside from the guardian angel sitting next to him.

  Jasmine leaned in closer and thrust herself up against Michael, hugging him. Michael thought to protest on instinct, very embarrassed, but the words stuck in his throat before he uttered them. He felt warm with Jasmine so close, and comfortable. As he sat by her side, his fears and worries melted away.

  Michael relaxed accepting Jasmine’s comforting embrace. She seemed to know exactly what he needed, even if he hadn't known it himself or was too embarrassed to admit. They sat watching the television for an hour before Michael drifted off to sleep while Jasmine hummed softly.

  Being this close to Michael and comforting him directly stirred odd emotions within Jasmine, ones she was not used to feeling. Without even thinking about it, Jasmine suppressed them, but if she had had to give the feeling a name, she would have described it as affection.

  ***

  Garamond reclined in his chair, slouching at an unnatural angle. The body he inhabited cracked and creaked in protest until it could endure no more. Garamond felt his host’s pain and delighted in it, but sadly, this one had reached its limit. It could endure no more, and Garamond released it into blessed oblivion.

  The Arch-Devil emerged from the host in a cloud of red mist, forming into a solid mass standing before the body he had occupied. W
ings of bone sprouted from his back, with a few black feathers hanging in loose clumps. Still, he knew if he wished he could fly or descend to the pit using those long-decayed wings.

  In his true form, Garamond looked much like he had before his fall. A well-muscled body, long raven hair, and piercing eyes. However now his skin had a crimson pallor, his eyes glowed red, and two large horns protruded from his temples. The changes still felt as fresh as when he'd fallen, centuries before. Just as exciting, just as tantalizingly different. He licked his lips thinking of the horror of his charge’s face and her screams as he had devoured her corrupt soul, banishing it to hell forever.

  She had been a murderer in life, sleeping with her lonely desperate victims, then slaying them for some kind of sick satisfaction. Garamond in his innocence had at first been repelled. However, as she continued her foul works, eventually he'd become enraptured by it, thrilled even. By the time she finally died, his horns had already grown and the chains that bound him to the pit were an inch thick. Then they had fallen and before the Beast himself, Garamond had devoured her soul, sealing his transformation into a demon.

  That was four hundred years ago, in human reckoning, but to Garamond it may as well have been yesterday. He chuckled, coming back to the present. He waved a hand dismissively at the chair, and two sultry looking women emerged from the shadows to either side. They dragged away the chair's previous occupant, pouting and grinning at Garamond. Their eyes glowed red showing the true nature of what inhabited them.

  Garamond was the Arch-Devil and the Beasts scourge on Earth. He was the most powerful demon allowed to walk on the mortal plane, as ordained by cosmic law, since the birth of the universe. His job was simple: the corruption of human souls and tempting more angels to fall, swelling the forces of Hell and boosting the power of his master, the Devil.

  Garamond sat down again now in his true form, glancing down at his throne. Its arm rests were made of skulls and its back was adorned with artwork depicting two women involved in sexual acts. Lust had always been his favorite deadly sin, always the easiest way to corrupt the weak.