Human Made Angel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Isolation can bring some unwanted thoughts to mind. Especially if you're not entirely human, but a Genetically Modified Child, called 'Angel'.

Submitted: July 04, 2008

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Submitted: July 04, 2008

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Human Made Angel

The sun shone through a lone window in the wall, brilliant light concentrated on a spot in the middle of the room where a little boy lay curled up on a cot on the floor.

He stirred, shivered, his hand searching blindly for the blanket he'd kicked off sometime during the night. His hand yielding no success, the boy opened his eyes, slowly, blinking at the light. He sat up and let the cold amethyst orbs, that had seen way too much, scan the room.

White plastered walls stared back equally cold. There was a sink in the corner, together with a toilet. His eyes caught a door, made of steel, cold as everything else. A small square was cut in the door; it acted as a peephole the white coated people used to check on him, there was another rectangular hole. A hatch opened only when the food tray was pushed in and later collected.

Ah! There was the blanket. It lay curled up some centimetres from his feet.

Where are my wings! The boy shuddered. If he had his wings, then he wouldn't need a blanket to keep warm. Nor would he be stuck in this room either for that matter.

That's right...they cut them off...didn't they. They said I was dangerous with my wings, that I was better off without them. That wasn't true; he still didn't look like a normal human, not with amethyst coloured eyes. He didn't look like a human because he wasn't human. I'm not a human, since I'm an angel.

No. That wasn't true either.

Angels had pure white wings. Mine are dark, like the night, like a void. No angel had black hair; theirs either shone like the sun, or glowed like the moon. No angel will ever accept me.

He draped the blanket over his now shaking shoulders. Maybe...am I a fallen angel? Could I possibly be...

BANG!

Something slammed against the wall to his room. "What do you mean with 'he's too strong for us'?" a gruff, deep, voice shouted. The words rang down the corridors.

"W-we can't control him at all! Not with his wings!" another, lighter voice squeaked, sounding frightened.

"He is useless without his wings, you FOOL!" the first voice hissed furiously.

The boy had stepped towards the wall the moment he heard the loud bang, and now placed his hand on the wall. "I...want to see their...faces..." he whispered, feeling his back grow warm. Slowly a hole appeared; a haphazard circle of transparent wall. Two men could be seen through the hole; one, with gray hair and a lot of fat on his body, stood staring at the boy; the other, a lot younger than the first and wearing a white lab coat, stood with his back to the wall obviously confused at his companion's expression.

"W-what is it?" the younger one asked.

"I...I think I'll take back that last sentence of mine..." the other answered weakly, "Anyway...uh...figure out how to complete the other kids; take samples from him, analyse them and find out what must be done on the others. We need to mass produce these kids, their powers will make me—uh...I mean us—rich!"

"Yes sir, going to do that. Just telling you, this won’t only make us rich, but think what this research will do to humanity! These angels’ ability to heal themselves is really intriguing; what if normal people could do the same then there would be no need for medicines anymore! We would be invulnerable!"

Heat...too much...hurts... the boy removed his hand from the wall, and it immediately returned to its usual colour, hiding the two arguing men. His t-shirt felt really tight, as if his wings were trying to rip it apart. A black feather fell to the ground. They are growing back! Need to conceal them!

It was soon time to leave this place. Time to be free of this place...


Moonlight shone through the window this time, casting eerie shadows in the small cell. It was all quiet save for the sound of the even, rhythmic, breathing from the, apparently, sleeping boy, and the occasional clunking of boots on tiles further down the corridor, outside the cell.

Black feathered wings pushed at the fabric of the boy's t-shirt. A small gasp escaped from the boy's lips when the wings tore it open. He smiled weakly and flexed his wings; the three metre wing span let the tips brush against the walls.

He plucked a feather and mumbled, "I want something...glowing hot." The feather started to glow, gradually, smoke rising. Rising his arm, he flung the now golden glowing feather at the door, which melted, leaving a pool of molten steel on the floor.

It's time to go.

He hesitated, took a last look around his room before resting his gaze on the blanket. The room held no warmth, no memories he should treasure, but the blanket, it held comfort; a small and almost insignificant sense of security. But it kept me warm...

Folding his wings on his back, he swiftly pulled the blanket up and draped it over his shoulders. Then he calmly walked out of the door, carefully stepping over the remains of the door.

The sound of someone sobbing made the boy stop in his tracks. Where is it coming from? He followed the sound down the corridor to his left, and found himself in front of a door identical to his own.

His hand reached up to touch the cold handle. "Open." as softly as he said it the door glided open on well greased hinges, and revealed a girl. She couldn't be any older than 13, maybe 14, years old. Yet she was at least a year younger than the boy. Tears stained her cheeks, eyes slightly bloodshot from the crying. The girl rose to her feet slowly, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand.

"Who're you?" she asked, highly curious of this blanket covered boy. "How did you open the door? I swear it was locked, and I didn't hear any sound of a key being turned in the lock either..."

"Key..." A thoughtful look crossed the boy's face. Why would I need a key...? "I didn't use a key." he stated, before he turned his back to her. "...you coming or not?"

He started walking, not bothering to look behind to check if she followed. A tiny smile tugged at his lips when he heard the shuffling of feet behind him, knowing the girl would catch up to him in a few seconds.

She had also grabbed her blanket, draping it over her shoulders much in the same way as the boy had. "Um...I can't call you 'you' all the time...so...uh...what's your name?" the girl asked nervously. Why she was nervous, the boy could only wonder.

He didn't answer, not because he didn't want to answer, he just didn't know. "...number XIII..." he finally mumbled, using his ID number that was used in the building.

"So...you're one of the few that never got a name...?" He nodded grimly.

She just smiled a little, before saying "Then I can give you a name!" while grinning brightly.

His head whipped around so fast that he gave out a little yelp of pain, before settling on staring incredulously at the girl as if she had grown two heads. "Wha-what?" he croaked, not sure if he should feel happy or not.

"I'll give you a name. Lets see...you saved me...Saviour? No...No good for a name, would fit some war machine better...Yes! I can pick a name from my own language! What about...Tenshi? It means angel in Japanese...It sucks? Aw...and I thought you might like it..."

"N-no! I...I mean...I was just surprised you'd give me a name that meant angel..." The dumbstruck look the boy had shown must have made the girl think he didn't like the name.

"You like it? That's great! Ok, from now on you will be called Tenshi. I'm Yuki, or Snow. Nice to meet you Tenshi, and thank you for getting me out."

"I was on my way out anyway." He shrugged.

"You're saying you helped me just because you were taking that corridor out?"

"Uh-huh, why would I help you if I had to go out of my way to do it?" He answered looking dead serious.

She hit him playfully, yet hard, on the head with a fist, "Why you little..." she growled before she gasped. Tenshi had let go of the blanket when she punched him, revealing his black folded wings. "Y-you...you're the one...the perfect subject! The one they completed, but lost control over!" Lots of unidentified emotions flickered in Yuki's eyes.

Tenshi, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable looked away. "What if I were?" he asked, a bit more harshly than he intended.

Yuki flinched, she hesitated before answering, "I just...well...it would explain how you opened the door, and why no one has noticed that we're gone yet..." she trailed off and fell silent.

They had come to the outer door, another steel door, with a huge lock on it. Yuki looked expectantly at Tenshi, waiting for him to make a move. He sighed inwardly before stepping up to the door, touching the lock. "Pulverize." the lock and half of the door vanished in a gust of wind from the outside, showering the two in metallic dust.

Both coughed a bit, then stepped through the doorway and let the cool night breeze blow away the dust from their faces. Then, they started running, trying to put as much distance between the detested building and themselves.

The blinking lights of the city blinded them temporarily, the sounds of the city deafening them for a few seconds. They stood watching the bustling life of the night time city from a small back alley. Yuki looked on with wonder in her eyes, "I never thought we were in a city." she mumbled, awe resounding in her voice.

Tenshi made a noncommittal sound in his throat. He'd heard the noise often, on sleepless nights, and after those people had drugged him for some test.

A heavy silence hung between them until Yuki decided to break it by whispering "I really envy you." Tenshi's ears had pricked up at this. She envied him? A boy with wings? Someone bound to be rejected from everyone else? A loner? A genetically manipulated boy without family or friends?

"You have the power to do anything you want, get anything you wish for."

Wrong, you don't know how wrong you are.

"You can spread your wings and fly free, be one with the sky."

Wrong again, I can't do that.

"Unlike me...my wings are only a faded memory of a hope that a little girl once had."

What are you talking about...? Your wings are right here, on your back. Silver; like the hair of angels. You can fit in with both humans and angels. You are the lucky one of us.

Yuki turned away, and ran down the street, blanket flapping behind her.

He could only stare after her, feeling his chest tighten a bit. Why couldn't she see how lucky she herself was, and make the best out of it...?

Turning in the opposite direction, the fifteen year old boy shuffled down the street, without any concrete destination in mind.


"Tenshi!" A man in a colourful costume called, the back stage of the circus bustling with activity; readying props, and people for the show.

"Here I am!" the boy called back. He was seventeen now, and had let his hair grow the last two years, resulting in a very feminine looking young lad with hair halfway down his back. He had tied it up in a high pony-tail and wore a white robe, sparkling with glitter and gold. His wings completing the image of an angel.

"It's your turn to perform! Get ready!"

"Working on it, working on it!"

Dear Yuki

I've found a place where I'm treated in the right way, a place I belong. Though the people around me might only be using me, but I don't really care. At least they don't treat me like some kind of monster or freak. I can be myself and use my abilities without worrying about people looking strangely at me.

Still, there are some things that I haven't told anyone. Especially the fact that I was one of the products of the 'Project Angel' operation. A scandal was what it was; the day after we, left, the news spread that 'Project Angel' had just lost its prize. Yes, that's me, the 'Perfect' subject. Number XIII. People started questioning what they did to the people there, after all, when the news came out it turned out that this was completely new to most people.

I'm glad that all the other people there were freed, but they all have problems finding normal friends, except amongst themselves. They might even end up as a completely different specie...

Sometimes I wonder what happened to you. You might be dead for all I know, but I would love to see you again someday, see how you're faring, talk. I don't envy you anymore, nevertheless I still think what you said when we parted was wrong. Even with my wings, I'm restrained from flying free, there’s no point in flying if you have to do it alone. I don't feel like soaring up to the sky to touch the clouds anymore, and you know why? It's because I have friends, and people I consider as my family. See? That's why.

The lights were turned off, flooding the huge tent with darkness. The boy walked out through the red curtains, the spot light was turned on and focused on him. He spread his wings, the crowd 'ooh-ing' and 'aah-ing'. The show had begun...


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