Category Archives: Winged Ones/Unfeathered
Julius stood, head craned over his shoulder staring at his back. The slits for his wings were red and inflamed, painful to any type of touch. Even a small breeze made him wince and bite his lip. He hunched his shoulders forward and then straightened out his back trying to force the tiny shreds of feathers to poke out more. They remained immobile, just barely sticking out torturing him.
It had been two day since the incident with Scarlett. Two days since he had taken off his bright white T-shirt and traded it for a grey one that had hung in the very back of his closet. He had accepted his fate, knowing that he was doomed as soon as the words had refused to pass his lips. As she had wrapped her cold arms around his stomach and laid her head on his back, he knew he had nowhere to turn. He had lost everything in order to save her.
After fighting his battle with every ounce of energy his possessed he had stumbled and fell losing everything in the process. Scarlett had looked into his eyes and had wiped his mind of everything but her and only her. Those so important words that he had promised himself he would never ever forget had completely disappeared in his moment of need.
For the first day of his transformation he had been incapacitated not only from the pain that was radiating up and down the muscles in his back but from the pain of his defeat as well. What had she done to him? How had she taken control of his mind like that, making him lose everything he had fought so hard for?
Scarlett was a tricky woman to care about. She had come to him when he had needed her the most, being his companion in his hour of need. But over time the world became more about her and only her. Every time he tried to walk away she had whispered a plea or looked at him with those lost eyes and he had walked right back into her arms.
The questions and reminiscing stopped running through his head quickly though once the pain of the emerging feathers took complete control of his mind. For an entire day he had laid in a collapsed heap as the pricks and stings came and went. They would stall and he would move pushing on one of the tips and wave after wave of agony would ripple up and down his back. He lost the ability to see as well as the ability to interact with the world around him; let alone ponder how he had ended up in this place.
Today he woke up, the pain still there but bearable. Scarlett was nowhere to be seen. She had left him. She had walked away when he had needed her the most, as she was known to do. His back still ached this morning, but the pain was numbing now. Maybe the initial shock was over or he was just getting used to the stings. Either way he had been terrified to turn his back and look in the mirror but he knew he had no choice. He had to see what was now apart of him.
He had made it until the sun started set until he had given into curiosity. He had to see the beginning of the wings. The beginning of his life shifting from his complete control to a life where he barely played apart. He had to see the evidence that life was no longer his own.
He now stood in front of the mirror confused, as well as slightly scared. He went to touch the pieces of feathers he could see when a knock sounded at the door. He stopped, completely still. Who was that? Scarlett? She wouldn’t knock. He was not in the mood for visitors at the moment, or really ever again if he was being honest with himself. The second knock was harder and more persistent. Again he stood completely still, the angry red marks on his back shining brightly in the dim room. He heard the door knob rattle but no one entered the house. Why not?
He checked his watch, it read 8:45pm. They still had fifteen minutes to come inside. But after a few seconds he realized no one was coming inside. Maybe they got bored, or were too polite or too scared or just crazy. He really didn’t care. As long as he didn’t have to deal with them right now.
He returned his attention to his ruined back. He just stared at it, at a loss for words. Why were they so small? Where were the full feathers, and the appendages to hold them? Why was there no evidence that they were going to get any bigger? It just looked like someone had ripped open his back and had gotten debris inside the cuts. As if he could pour water down his back and wash out the pieces. He knew that wasn’t true though. After two days he should have something beginning to take shape, maybe even full wings. What was wrong?
He heard a door close and soft footsteps make their way into the living room. Scarlett was home, or else the visitor from earlier had come back through the back door. Honestly he didn’t think he wanted either case to be true.
Scarlett entered the room her black boots criss-crossed tied up to her knees and her brick red hair thrown over her shoulder, only a few strands clinging to the front of her neck. She gave him an almost relieved smile when she saw him standing in the living room.
“What is wrong with me?” he asked, spinning to face her. He didn’t have the energy for pleasantries. He needed an answer. Why he thought she would have them he had no idea? But there was no one else to ask, to bark questions at or rage at. This was all her fault after all.
“What do you mean?” she asked gently, coming quickly towards him hands outstretched. He took two steps back, he needed distance between the two of them.
“I don’t have any real feathers. It is like they are stuck, or something,” he turned his back to her so she could see properly how much of a mess it was. He couldn’t watch her face distort in horror, but he had hoped to hear her whimper or scream at the sight. Maybe she would even run from the house and leave him alone. He hoped she would maybe even whimper in pity, knowing that she had done this to him.
“Oh honey,” she cooed, like she was seeing a small inconsequential scratch. He felt her hovering near his back, a cold nail touching the very top of one of the openings. The rational part of him knew he should back away and run from her. He should put his shirt back on and get the hell out of the house, find someone who could give him answers, who wouldn’t betray him sooner or later.
He didn’t move, just let her slide the nail down his back right next to the marks.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, sounding confused but also a bit scared. Scared for him or for what might end up happening to her.
“What do I do?” he asked her. Again why was he asking her, like she had any real information? Yes, she ran around the cities getting into trouble and hanging with the wrong people but he doubted she knew the secrets of the Winged One world. If she did and had never told him, he didn’t think he could ever look at her again.
This wasn’t her fight. Yes, she had caused this to happen to him but she wasn’t part of this now. She shouldn’t be forced to suffer with him. He had to find answers, in the hopes he could help himself so in turn he could help her when her own transformation began.
“I have to find Jack,” he said turning around and breaking their contact. He pulled his T-shirt back over his head, wincing slightly at the tug at his skin. He made his way towards the door.
Scarlett reached out and grabbed the tips of his fingers. “Don’t,” she pleaded. He looked her in the eyes, saw the tears glistening there. He felt his heart ache. She was just as lost as he was, but it was even worse for her. She had been running around her whole life looking for a safe place to live out her life. Now she stood in his house, watching him breaking down and knowing that soon it would happen to her as well. He had saved her only to destroy her.
“It is going to be alright,” he pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her back. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. He knew soon she would begin suffering as well. He didn’t want her to hurt, but right now she was whole. Right now he was the one falling apart and he needed to find his own answers in order of having a hope of helping her at all.
A part of him wanted to stay here and protect her, to not let the world destroy her like it was destroying him. Another part of him wanted to shake and scream at her, begging her to tell him how she had made him forget what he promised himself he would never forget. Another part of him just wanted to collapse into tears and beg for this all to stop. He felt his head spinning as the emotions swirled around and around. He didn’t know what he was going to feel next, let alone what he was going to do.
“I gotta go,” he pushed her away from him, making her stumble back on her heels. Jack would have answer for him. At least that is what he silently prayed to himself as he slammed the door. Because if Jack didn’t have anything; Julius wasn’t sure what he would end up doing to himself and let alone Scarlett.
A/N: Since this is going to be ongoing and from three separate POV I am going to title them with their names- to make it easier to keep track of who’s story we are on.
Talia didn’t go back to the house for two days. After leaving she spent hours debating flying back at first light. She wanted to observe, to watch them again to just confirm what she had seen that night. Those two faces would not leave her mind. What had happened? Were they both still alive? Had the conniving, smiling woman killed the man? Or did he still believe she was some desperate woman who he had saved?
In the past two days she had decided on a few things. The woman was not some poor woman who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was not someone to be pitied. She was twisted. She was crazy, evil or a combination of the two. She wasn’t a damsel in distress that needed saving.
Anyone else who had thought their life was about to end and then had been saved would have been an emotional mess. For the last two days she had been debating using her gift. A gift she had had since she was very young. A gift she didn’t understand the point of, but it was fun to use sometime. And sometimes it was incredibly useful. She could visualize a situation perfectly, almost like putting herself into a movie scene. She pictured the moment and let it play out in front of her. In any other time she would have become a writer or actor, in this world it was more a form of escapism if nothing else.
She knew diving into the scenario and playing it out would do nothing good for her. She would end up wrapped up in this whole mess just that much tighter. But she didn’t care, they were inside her head; and she wasn’t completely sure she wanted them out. She sat cross legged on her bedroom floor and closed her eyes. Seconds later she was sitting on the soft, damp grass. Her heart was racing, she could feel the panic pouring through her veins unchecked and uncontrolled. They were coming for her. All her efforts to survive had ended with her dying, right here and now.
Her life, life as she understood it, was completely over. He emerged from the house, all tall and handsome and full of power. He saved her, connecting them for life. With a few words he gave her back a life worth living.
Relief flooded her life, a cool shower softening the panic and letting her feel whole once again. She was indebted to this man and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arm around him and thank him until she lost her voice. He was her savior and she owed him everything she had.
She opened her eyes and felt her heart sink. That was how the event should have played out, how it should have gone if they were any normal people. But what she had been trying to deny for the last two days came crashing down on top of her now. They weren’t normal, they were wrong. That woman was not helpless, she was not about to die. There had been no true desperate emotions, just cold and calculating looks and triumphant smiles. All of it was so wrong. The woman was an actress and a terrible one at that. There had been no relief or confusion shown as she had followed him into his home. Just satisfaction.
Talia paced her apartment trying to decide what she should do. Should she fly over and confront the woman? Attempt to show the man that the woman was a fraud? Or should she watch a bit more? Did he actually need saving? Maybe he knew and he was playing her to save himself and others.
But then again the man wasn’t normal either. His reaction was cold and uncaring. It was as if he barely cared that he had won. He didn’t hug the woman or confess love to her. He had turned his back as if disgusted. He hadn’t won. He hadn’t done it to win. He did it for another reason, one that did nothing for him. So why did he save the woman?
For two days she had gone back and forth desperately trying to determine what to do. Save him? Her? Run away and never look back? Her head was swimming and she could barely get the ideas into a coherent thought.
The suns as slowly setting into the horizon. Here she was again trying to determine what course of action was best for her. She didn’t make a conscious decision, just opened her wings and took off. She let her wings guide her. Let her body move where her mind wandered. Within minutes she reached the top of the street. Down at the end was the house. It was half an hour before nine. She had thirty minutes before the hospitality rule was over for the day. He or the woman had to let Talia in. It was one of the new laws created by the Winged Ones, something about bonding and strengthening society, creating a community. It was all a bunch of words that she could careless about.
She arrived at the front step and raised her fist. She hesitated for half a heart beat before she finally knocked. There was no answer and no sound. She stood and waited for a minute more before she raised her hand and knocked harder. She held still for a second before repeating the action. Still no response.
She hesitated. According to the law she had every right to turn the knob and enter the house without permission. The door had to remain unlocked. She twisted the handle and tried to push the door. It wouldn’t budge. She tried again and pushed harder. Still nothing. It was locked.
She glanced down at her watch, it was 8:45. The door was not allowed, under any circumstances, to be locked at this hour. The mystery man could be imprisoned or worse depending on his previous record. The woman could be prosecuted as well, since they were now connected. At least that was how it should go but that word didn’t seem to mean much to this pair.
She should leave the thing alone. This was none of her business. Maybe one of them worked for the government or was being held prisoner? Maybe they were criminals now, locked up to keep everyone safe? But none of those scenarios made any sense to her, something more was going on here. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the woman was holding the man prisoner though. Question was, was it sinister? Harmless? And was getting involved dangerous for Talia?
She slid off the porch and flapped her wings gently. She drifted to the side of the house inches above the ground, trying to remain soundless. She rose a few inches, peeking in the gap between the curtain and the top of the window.
She was looking into the living room. Standing in front of a sofa, a mirror behind him was the man, shirtless. He was flexing his back attempting to observe the slits in his back where a few grey strands were peeking out. He pushed at them and they didn’t budge. He tried to flex his back to make the tips move in some manner. They remained immobile, not pushing forward or sinking back into his skin. He growled and pulled a grey T-shirt over his head.
Talia watched with fascination. He was becoming a Winged One, very slowly it seemed, but it was happening, which made her head ache with confusion even more. He had saved that woman from her fate of becoming Winged, yet he was giving in now? Would that mean the woman would turn to? Why save her to only end up right in this spot?
A creak on the floorboards made her jump. Someone was walking through the house. She quickly took off and headed back toward her apartment. As she landed on her balcony she had made up her mind. Those two were absolutely none of her business. Their decisions should mean nothing to her. Again there was that word, “should.” She should stay away, should ignore this whole thing before it killed her. She shouldn’t make her life revolve around those two, be so determined to figure out what was going in their secret world. She never was good at listening to that word, she sat at her desk and pulled a piece of paper towards her, making a plan
A/N: This is the Winged One who tricked Julius in Unfeathered. I felt like she needed her own voice as well.
She kissed him gently on the cheek and then turned away from him. He would remain staring at the window for sometime. His mind was racing. A small part of him was trying to hold onto his past self. While another much larger part of him was asking why he cared about that man anymore. There was no real reason to hold onto that old life. A life full of sadness and fear. A life without ever a minute of rest or calm. A life where he was constantly looking over his shoulder wondering when his time would be up.
His brain was having an all out fist fight with itself. While his heart was the small spectator trying to break up the fight with only words of wisdom; not actually strong enough to physically help in anyway. His world was resetting itself back to the default settings of birth. No cares or worries, just bliss and happiness. The only desires were linked to satisfying primal needs for continuous life. Soon he would be fine, wings full while his heart and head were light and free.
She would leave him to reset on his own. She knew it was a tough and long process, hampered by any attempts to help. At one time she could have helped. Actually she still could help but she knew it would only hurt him. He was fighting against himself at the moment and the last thing he needed was another voice to confuse the process. Soon it would be over and they could rule the skies together.
She went into the backyard opened her great wings and took off into the sky. She was just about to head straight to the highest point of the atmosphere when a faint flutter caught her gaze. She turned her head to see a Winged One taking off from a house away. The Winged One kept glancing back every few seconds.
Scarlett turned back to the sky not concerned. Whoever it was, was just intrigued by the show. Hopefully it was convincing enough. Scratch that ,she didn’t actually care. Anyone who questioned her would regret it fully.
She reached the highest point of the clouds and let herself hover as her mind wandered. She had been ten when the affliction had started. She was the first, patient zero as she became known in hospitals and to every specialist in more countries then she knew existed on the planet. She was scanned, poked and prodded so much she begun to wonder if there was any part of her that was known only to her anymore. They had tested everywhere even into the depths of her brain and heart.
She had met Julius during the highest peak of the testing period. He was her age, which made talking to him simple and easy. She had learned quickly how to hide her wings, her parents feared what others would say or do if they saw her wings, so Julius never saw them. He was friendly and she loved chatting with him. At night when her and his parents were asleep she would fly over to his house and perch on his window. They would talk about the stars, and about school. She made up stories most of the time because she was no longer apart of society anymore. His parents kept him hidden away, not letting him near a TV or newspaper so he didn’t recognize her from the countless shows she had appeared on. He never asked her how she got over at the hour or how she got up on to his window. He just liked talking with her, she was his secret friend and he was hers.
As they grew their talks got longer and more serious. She was no longer the only one afflicted by the new disease. There were reports of new Winged Ones everyday. It started with just a handful of new cases a day, but soon the numbers soared into the thousands and eventually they just stopped counting.
Julius always told her to be careful every night when she would leave him. He was worried she would become one of them. His parents were extremely protective of him, making sure he understood how to save himself. Since he was so sequestered away from the world she was the only friend he had. He became very protective of her. She would smile and tell him she was always careful before jumping to the ground, finding a deep patch of shadows and taking off into the sky. Until a few moments ago he had never known what she really was.
By the time she was sixteen the doctors and her parents stopped trying to make anything make sense about her. The “curse,”, as it was now called, had no antidote and couldn’t be contained. Was it airborne? Water borne? Because of the food? Genetics? Was this humanities next step in evolution? No one had any answers and slowly those who tried to care were locked away and the world became silent and afraid.
Winged Ones outnumbered the Unfeathered three to one now. Maybe some of the hardest fighters were locked away in some government building somewhere still desperately searching for a way to put things back to normal. Maybe they were still examining her DNA, still hoping as the first afflicted, that she held the answer.
She didn’t care. They would find nothing and even if they would have to get her to cooperate. An impossible task. Twenty years she had been a Winged One. Twenty years she had been living with this new side of herself. At first the feelings of lack of care and concern were overwhelming. The world became nothing more than a place to live inside of. You detached and you enjoyed being detached. Or so she had heard.
She hadn’t had the luxury to live the Winged One’s life fully. Her parents had forced her to hold onto to her humanity. It had been like grasping onto a life preserver in a tumultuous ocean. They made her yell and made her cry, constantly reminding her of emotions and what having them meant. She hadn’t ever been able to fully let go and live completely free like every other Winged One.
Twenty years later and she and mastered control of this switch though. She didn’t have to feel when she didn’t want to. If she wanted to be upset she could just flip the switch and she started the water works and felt the pain twist her heart. But it only took one thought to turn that all off and rise above the Unfeathered once again.
This control was why she ruled. Only a handful of Winged Ones, her soldiers, knew what she could do. They kept an eye out on the newly Winged Ones and made sure they stayed in line. All Winged Ones lived without a care but they lived by her rules or they disappeared. It was pretty simple to maintain control. No one missed a Winged One.
She was about to dip back down to check on Julius when she saw a form enter her cloud cover. It was Jack.
“Good acting tonight,” he grinned.
“Thanks. I know Julius and I knew what would break him finally. Why are you here?” she wasn’t one to just chat.
“Well, as I was leaving Julius’s place I noticed something,” he said.
“A female? Looks to be pretty new? Just hovering and watching?” Scarlett asked.
Jack nodded. “She was staring so intently,” He paused and said the next part very hesitantly. “Almost like she cared.”
“I see,” Scarlett waved her hand. “Thank you.” Jack sank back towards the Earth, he knew she was dismissing him.
Scarlett remained in her clouds mulling over what Jack had just told her. She had seen the glances but she hadn’t been close enough to see the actual face and features. Jack was reliable though and he would lie to her. A newly Winged One who appeared to care? This was new and new wasn’t good. New was a threat. Her kingdom was too close to being fully formed. New was not welcome here and new would have to be eliminated. Immediately.
A/N: This came about while I was rereading my Unfeathered story and I want to try to keep adding to this tale. I am not entirely sure where it is going, if anywhere, but I do want to see what I can do with it.
“If you walk out that door you will never see me again,” she stood arms crossed, eyes trained on his right hand. His fingers held the door knob gently; all he had to do was twist and take two steps forward. He would be out the door and forever out of her life. If he moved an inch, she would not shed a single tear. She would not beg him to turn around and look her in the eye and say goodbye. If he left, she was done.
“Good,” he said as he twisted the knob and left her apartment. She felt the prickle at the corner of her eyes. She felt the tightening in her chest and the shaking in the tips of her fingers down to her knees. All the signs were there for a major breakdown. If she relaxed even a little bit she would crumple onto the ground and he would have won.
She took two deep breaths and released them slowly. She closed her eyes and released all the tension and agony creeping around inside of her. She had known he was going to leave. He wasn’t worth her tears or time. He was weak and she was strong. She just had to keep repeating that to herself over and over.
Once the tension in her chest eased and she felt her eyes dry up she went to her bathroom and finished getting ready for the day. As she finished curling her hair she looked over her outfit. She wore a bright white T-shirt and blue jeans, the safe outfit. An outfit he had insisted she wear day in and day out. He had never listened to her protest or theories. But now he was gone.
She finished her hair and went to her closet. She moved to the back of the space. Here was the spot where she kept everything he thought wasn’t appropriate. Back here was her normal clothes; T-shirts and dresses. So many colors and styles just like it used to be before this all started. Back before the Winged One curse made everyone paranoid automatons. She pulled out a little black number that hit her mid thigh. The neck was low giving a hint of what was beneath but only a hint. Two sheer slits ran along the sides, again hinting at something but not truly giving anything away.
She quickly undressed but just as she was about to pull the dress down over her head she caught a glimpse of her back in her floor length mirror. Right at her shoulder blades was two slits, and coming through them was a few stray feathers. She stared at them for a long time, watching the tiny strands flutter in the wind.
She should find her discarded white shirt, put it on and stop this whole process before it was too late. So many wore the shirts everyday, barely taking them off even to shower. She on the other hand had learned early on the shirts were only for the danger moments. Sure, constantly wearing them kept the danger moments basically nonexistent, but it wasn’t alway a necessity.
She should walk away from this new outfit and go back to blending in with the rest of the Unfeathered. Becoming a Winged One wasn’t reversible. Once you let go, you were taken for life. You were the elite, soaring around the sky and staring down at the little people below you. You lost all strong emotions and ties to anyone you once knew. Once you soared into the sky the rest of the world began to mean less and less.
The winged ones were revered and feared. They didn’t care about anyone else. Didn’t think about the well-being of the world at all. No one and nothing mattered to them anymore. To many that seemed like a curse but to her it sounded like a blessing. What did she have in this world? Nothing, that was the answer. Her parents had flown away years ago, in the first movement. They had been curious and she had never seen them again.
She had never been a social butterfly. In school she had had a handful of friends but life had pulled them apart. She might talk to one or two of them once or twice a year if she found the time. They never had meaningful conversations, mostly the basics, “What are you doing?”, and “How is life?” Nothing more.
Her only boyfriend had walked out the door moments ago leaving her completely alone. So what did she have left? She didn’t care about anyone or anything right now anyway, so what would change other than the way she traveled?
She pulled the black fabric down over hear heard. She straightened it and admired herself in the mirror. She looked hot. She spun and felt her face grow into a smile Today was going to be a great day.
The day turned out to be quiet dull. She got a few side glances at her outfit but nothing exciting. No one hit on her and she had no reason to assert her new sense of self worth onto the world. She returned home less excited and enthusiastic then she had been when she had left earlier.
She undressed for a shower and once again admired her growing feathers. They were more than wisps now. She could actually see full sized feathers poking out. With a little difficulty she reached back and stroked the new additions. They were soft and light below her fingers. The dark grey stood out well under there bright lights of her bathroom. She imagined her full set, open wide and filling the room. Giant slate grey wings with dark black veins criss-crossing over the surface. She imagined them opening wide and the wind lifting her high into the air. The world below her was nothing more than pinpricks of color, below was nothing to her. Above was what mattered. Above where there was no boundaries, no obstacles or roadblocks. Above was where she was completely free.
It took one week for her wings to fully form. Slowly they expanded out over the days getting wider and stronger. As they grew larger it became nearly impossible for her to leave the house. She didn’t care.
On Sunday she knew they were completely formed. She no longer felt any pricks of pain as new feathers pushed themselves out into the world. She was finally a Winged One.
She didn’t know quite what to do now though. Did she just open the window and jump out? Did she wait for some type of welcoming committee? Were there any rules to this new life?
No one knocked at her door and she didn’t actually feel much different. She felt exactly the same, except that now she was anxious. She wanted to go into the air, see a new view of the world. But how did these things work? Did she have to consciously think to move them? Did they just instinctively work on their own? What was the secret?
“Can’t know until you try,” a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. And it was right. No one was going to come to help her. This was all about her, as everything from now on would be about her.
She opened the double doors to her balcony and stepped out. The sun was on the verge of setting. The world was awash in a warm golden glow. Now was the best moment to try out her new wings.
She opened her wings wide, climbed up onto the railing and without a second thought or moment of preparation she jumped. She fell fast, the ground racing up to slam into her face. She screwed up her eyes, ready to meet the concrete but she never did.
She flapped her wings once, twice and slowly rose back into the sky. Within minutes she was high in the air and the world was quickly getting smaller and smaller. The buildings were no longer large and imposing. The cars looked so much like little toys she itched to reach down and move them around the city. Up here she felt like a god, able to change and manipulate anything and everyone. Up here she ruled the world.
She soared above the city past the city’s imposing wall. A wall designed to keep them inside and separate from the rest of the world. There would be Less chaos that way they said. She flew over the city besides theirs and it was as much asleep as her own behind the wall. She flew over countrysides full of nothing but blackness. The sun was down now, nothing but the moon and stars to guide her through the world. A world that was featureless but not intimidating. She soared left and right, dived to the ground and rose to the clouds.
She went higher and higher until she felt the atmosphere get cold and restrictive. At the highest point, at this time of night, the world became nothing but shadows. Shadows she began to feel apart of. This indistinct, dark world was her home.
It was almost two in the morning before she arrived back at her apartment. It took her a bit to find her way but she enjoyed every minute of the hunt. As she flew she glanced into windows curious to see what the sleeping world looked like at this hour. There were no restrictions and no rules. Those awake from nightmares or insomnia shied away from her when she passed by their windows but she didn’t care.
She slept more peacefully then she had in ages the rest of the night. No negative thoughts plagued her. She worried about nothing and no one. All she could think of or wanted was to be back in the sky, exploring.
Three weeks later and she was getting antsy. She still enjoyed soaring but it was the same view most of the time. She flew at all hours of the day but night was still her favorite. It was mysterious, anything could be hiding in the blackness. Though even that mystery was starting to get monotonous.
The Unfeathered avoided her while other Winged Ones were kind but aloof. She had no new friends and no old acquaintances came looking for her. She was still alone and that was becoming less and less exciting.
She had thought becoming a Winged One would have meant no more questioning, no more boredom. She had thought she would feel light and free every hour of everyday, not a worry or concern making itself known to her. It only took her a few days to learn that was all complete B.S. She was bored and didn’t have any idea what to do with herself.
Night would be upon her in a matter of minutes. Maybe tonight instead of just flying through the clouds and over hills and valleys she would stay closer to the ground. Look for something new and exciting to do. Maybe there would be a mystery to solve or a life to watch. There had to be something interesting going on the streets at this hour.
Once she saw the first specs of light sparkling down from the black sky she opened her wings and took off. Instead of soaring straight up into the clouds and getting lost in the darkness, she went straight down. She flew mere feet above the streets, which were almost completely empty.
A few brave souls scurried over the sidewalks on their way home. Everyone knew being out after dark, unless you were a Winged One, was dangerous. Officers prowled the streets eager to add more souls to their quotas. If you were Unfeathered you risked abduction or attack once the sun went down.
She flew through the dim streets not a sight or sound popping out at her. Nothing broken for her to fix. No one looking to be in need of help. Nothing lost for her to find. There was almost nothing going on. The streets were as blank and dull as the sky above her.
She was just about to return to her clouds when she heard a scream. She quickly backtracked and headed down a side street into a small suburban neighborhood. She hovered a house down from where the scream had originated.
Crouched between two burly Winged Ones was a small pathetic looking woman. She was just a limp body between them, crying but doing nothing more. Standing before the group was a simply handsome man in a bright white T-shirt. He was gesturing at the woman. Finally they let her go and passed her on to the man.
The man let the woman fall to the ground. He didn’t kneel down to comfort the woman or to make sure she was alright. He just turned away and head beck into his house. The woman quickly followed behind him. She walked tall no slumped shoulders or look of distress about her person. She walked as if proud, almost triumphant. The door closed and the house went dark.
She hovered, waiting. No lights came on and she heard nothing more from the pair but she couldn’t shake the incident. Something was off about these two. He tried to rescue her but didn’t act like he was glad that he had won. She seemed to be barely scratched by her encounter. Yes,people rescued those caught, but they were almost alway family members, never were they complete strangers who had no attachment to each other. Usually there was a show full of crying and pleading followed by joyous hugs and kisses when they “won.” Not this pair though. The man seemed angry and the woman was excited.
She turned to head home, making a mental note of the location. She would return the following night and watch the house. She was going to find out what was different about this place. Mystery found.