An Angel or a Devil

The city was scorched with the heat of the rising flames. Black smoke choked the air, held in by the malevolent dome towering high above. Eerie shadows danced along the charring structures that would serve as the gravestones for countless hopes and dreams. Lenore was in ruin.

But, even in the deepest depths of despair, there was a spark. A streak of starlight split the darkness, lighting up the city as it blinked through. Its whirlwind cleared billowing banks of smog from its path, as the scorching, crumbling world blurred by.

"Alabaster, stop," Simon croaked, as his rough hands pawed weakly at the other man's chest, "Please, stop."

The vampire gave no hint as to whether he heard the quivering bundle in his arms. Instead, he kept his piercing eyes straight ahead, dodging the fire that was closing in on them. However, Alabaster soon felt a more insistent grip on his coat. A barely-there sound managed to escape from one of the strongest men he had ever had the privilege of knowing; a whimper. His jaw clenched in response; even now, Simon's pain was impossible for him to ignore.

"We're almost there. Hold on."

Within the confines of Alabaster's chest, a stinging spread like an insidious poison. He was using up so much of his finite energy; too much. The consequences were unknowable at that point. But, the vampire would rather burn out like a candle on a cold, winter's night, than to let even a single thread of the tailor's coat be singed. He was willing to do anything to guarantee Simon's safety; even break a promise for it.

'I'm sorry, my dearest. But, I've waited for you for such a long time. I can't let you go. Not now.'

Finally, the vampire came to a stop. The glow slowly faded from around his illuminated boots, as their owner breathed out a sigh of relief. Or was a sigh of exhaustion?

"We're here, Simon. We're home."

When the man dared to pull his face from the safety of the Crystal Vampire's neck, he couldn't believe his eyes. Simon had expected to find a pile of ashes where his shop once stood. But, it was just as he left it; right down to that unwieldy, lion-head knocker he had threatened to turn into a pile of nails more than once.

The tailor slowly slipped out of his lover's arms and toddled toward the door. Perhaps he had imagined it all. Or maybe fallen victim to a nightmare brought on by too little sleep and too much work.

The fire consuming Lenore like a ravenous demon.. what could that represent? A jab at his own destructive perfectionism? A fear of the things he loved being eaten away? Ponderings about the nature of dreams could be unpacked later, however. Because, right now, there was only one important thing; he was home.

'Everything is fine,' Simon thought, wandering in a daze, 'It was a dream. Nothing more.'

But, no matter how many reassurances he allowed himself, the closer Simon got to the pristine picture that was The Ode to Maria, the more it fell apart. The mind was a fascinating thing. It could fill in the gaps with precision; paint in every, last detail. But, the tailor's staunch practically was starting to rip holes in the fabric of this pretty, water-colored reality.

The hairs on the back of his neck soon stood on end. Ignoring the alarm bells ringing in his head, the tailor flung open his front door. But, he never crossed the threshold. It was subtle, but a man didn't live in the presence of magic every day, without developing a sixth sense for its taste. Every surface, from the floor to the ceiling was positively drenched in Alabaster's energy.

That could only mean one thing. Simon stepped back, taking stock of his surroundings. The street looked normal enough, right down to the last lamp post. There was no sign of a fire for miles. But, he knew better. What he was seeing was impossible.

His skin could testify to that, beginning to form rashes under his sweat-soaked clothes. And the heat! He could still feel it, roasting him alive! And the screams.. The screams of so many people! Some that Simon even knew-! The tailor clamped down on his bottom lip hard in anguish.

With all of that evidence piling up, there was no more denying it. This wasn't some twisted dream he could simply wake up from. Everything the man remembered had really happened. Alabaster had just carried Simon out of a landscape resembling Hell.

Simon's breath quickened. Madness began to set in as he tried to make sense of it all. Why didn't the things he saw match up with what he knew to be the truth!? Alabaster's forehead creased as he watched the human reach out, wandering like a blind man trying to find his way.

"Simon, the shop is over there. What are you looking for?"

"...Answers."

The tailor stole a sharp intake of air. He yanked his hand back, ignoring the cry of alarm from behind him. Slowly, Simon held it out to have a better look. The skin was already beginning to blacken and blister. He had been burned; burned by an invisible flame. The realization of what was happening crashed down on him like a roof caving in.

"Oh my! Your poor hand!"

The man couldn't help, but to feel that Alabaster's sympathy was misplaced; if anything, he welcomed the pain. It proved to Simon that he wasn't crazy.

"Let me see it! I could-"

Simon wheeled on him, before he got a chance to fuss over the human's wounds. There was a new fire to contend with now; the one blazing in those fierce, green eyes.

"If you won't stop telling me lies, I'll have no choice, but to wring the truth from you! What is happening, Alabaster!?"

The vampire had to stop himself from instinctively taking a step back. The tailor's countenance was more fierce than he had ever seen it.

"You've.. already been through so much. I was afraid the shock would-"

"Don't presume to tell me what I can and cannot handle, Stone!"

A heavy silence hung between them. Simon's fists shook as they clenched tightly, one of them aching, as blood dripped from it onto the street below. Alabaster's unnerved stare made the tailor feel like he was being completely unreasonable. Like he was missing the whole point of something deeper. It made him want to lash out. But, before his anger could reach the boiling point, his companion finally parted with some long overdue words of truth.

"Can't you see that you've been through enough?! Why won't you just.. let me lift some of your burdens?! Even for a night!?"

Simon had suspected it all along in the back of his mind. But, now that the vampire had exposed himself, he was certain of it. All of this was a mirage. Alabaster had cloaked the entire city of Lenore in an illusion.

He tried to stay calm. But, it was difficult, if not impossible to stave off the growing panic and dread that was now holding his heart in a vice.

"And then what?! Spend an evening at home in my nice, warm bed, only to have to come to terms with everything tomorrow!?"

"I could change that! I could change all of it! I'll make everything exactly as you remember!"

Simon was taken aback with the finality of that statement; frozen from what the vampire's words were implying. The weight of it drove Simon to claim fistful's of the other man's collar, yanking him so close that they were almost nose to nose.

"Don't you bloody dare! I won't have you.. you bending reality into something you think suits me!" the human all, but hissed, "I know you better than you think, Alabaster Stone. You're not as mysterious as you make yourself out to be! In your heart of hearts, you're a martyr with sacrificial inclinations that I just.. Oh, damn it all!"

Simon shoved Alabaster back, his eyes wet even with the heat raging all around them, trying to lick up his tears.

"Let me be crystal clear, Crystal Vampire! I won't have you disappearing on me! You said that you would live for me! You promised!"

Large hands seized the human by his shoulders. They jostled him, almost as if their owner was trying to use force to get Simon to see reason. A pained gasp was pulled from his parted lips. The tailor could feel bruises starting to blossom where the other man's finger tips dug in.

Alabaster had never reacted like this. Never touched him with anything, but the utmost gentility and reverence. But, if this out-of-character action left him rattled, then the next words out of Alabaster's mouth would surely shake him down to his very foundations.

"I don't want you to hurt anymore, Simon!" the noble's voice cracked, his composure long since lost, "I don't want you to feel any more pain!"

Simon went rigid. A ringing sounded sharply in his ears. Those words! He had heard them spoken before. The world as he knew it crumbled out from under him. He was falling; plummeting head first into the deep sea of the once forgotten.

"Mother... Maria."

The bodies nearby stared at him, vacantly. The light was gone from their eyes. Even as young as the boy was, he knew that he would be joining them soon; Simon would share their fate. Just a few more minutes. Or seconds?

"Please," he prayed to the Gods, his tiny voice rasping out like sandpaper, "Please let it end. It hurts so much. It hurts!"

Tears broke away from his green eyes, cutting through the dirt on his pale, blood-splotched cheeks. A trembling hand made its way up to the punctures adorning his neck. But, his fingers were so numb that they couldn't feel the holes anymore. The scenery fell out of focus.

"I-I'm so cold."

Sensation faded from his experience like a distant memory. His body was wracked with uncontrollable tremors, as his vision clouded up with a darkness so all-consuming that he was convinced it would be the last thing he ever saw. Until, suddenly, a flash of color drifted into his line of sight. It was so brilliant, so luminous, that he had to wonder if it was Heaven's light; what a beautiful shade of blue.

"Don't worry, I'm here to take care of you."

Strong arms curled around him, holding him tightly, as a white light filled up his world. The glow was soft, warm and comforting. Yet, a few minutes in, it brought the child out of his stupor, sending him spinning into a world of pain.

"It hurts!"

"Sh, I know it does. I'm so sorry. I'll make it better. I promise."

Slowly, his torn skin began to stitch itself back together. As his blood was replenished, his agony eased. Tears began to dry as he could finally feel those comforting arms cradling him; almost as if they wished to protect him from all of life's cruelty and hardships.

"...I don't want you to feel anymore pain."

But, as abruptly as this mysterious angel fell into his life, he vanished just as quickly. The only thing he left the adolescent Simon Hart to remember him by was a promise.

"I will find you."

It could have been considered ungrateful, Simon supposed. But, a particular thought about the man who saved his life had haunted him throughout childhood. That the blue-eyed wanderer, not so unlike the farmers on the outskirts of the city, was just waiting for time to fatten him up for later. For when he stared up into the face of the stranger mending his wounds, it was hard to overlook the fangs gleaming right back.

Simon stared at Alabaster with fresh horror. It quickly bonded with a macabre sense of wonderment. How did he not see it before? The vampire had been so familiar with him since the very beginning; like he knew him. And the tailor had welcomed him further into his shop; just like he had welcomed him further into his life.

Simon's decision put the loom of fate in motion, weaving two threads together on that destined night; the night that Simon wondered, much like now, if he was standing in the presence of an angel.. or the devil, himself.

"...It's you."