Genre Challenge – An Angel among Devils – Part Two

A Year ago I wrote a short story for the Haunted Wordsmiths Genre Challenge called An Angel Among Devils, see the link below:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2020/05/19/an-angel-among-devils-a-short-story/

I reposted this post this morning and so I thought I would share some more with you. So, here is part two.

 

Chapter Two:

After telling him to follow, the ugly brute walked towards what appeared to be a plain wall, decorated with the same muck the rest of the walls seemed to be coated in.

Inspector Tanner glanced back towards the main bar, no one was looking their way, but he knew that though everyone appeared ambivalent, it was deliberate. They were all looking towards where the smartly dressed guy had gone, running out the front door, they now pointedly ignored him and you could cut the atmosphere with a blunt vibroblade.

“Are you coming or what? If you want to stay and get yourself killed, that’s fine by me. I’ll deal with whoever they get to fill your shoes.”

The man with the snake tattoo looked back at him and where there had been plain, gut splattered wall before, there was now an open door.

Inspector Tanner stood up and followed the man through the door and into a dingy back alley.

The man then pressed something in his pocket and the door was replaced again by a solid wall.

“Look, who are you?” Inspector Tanner asked.

“We can’t talk now. That other guy, he’s gone to fetch his gang, we have to be as far away from here as possible. Follow me and keep your head down. I know a safe place.”

You didn’t get far in his line of work without developing an instinct to know who to trust, well he had to admit, his instinct had let him down by approaching the wrong guy earlier, but now he was sure, in order to get out here with his life, he had to follow this man, regardless of how he looked, but it still felt like he being rash.

After taking so many twists and turns along the dark back alleys of the most dangerous district in town, they finally came to a halt in front of another concrete wall.

Again, the man pressed something in his pocket and a blue light flashed down the side of the wall and it twisted to form an opening.

“Quick, in here,” he said.

Ducking through the doorway, Inspector Tanner found himself in a kitchen, pots and pans hang on hooks from a metal rack suspended from the ceiling and a delicious smell of cooking filled the air along with the steam.

Almost hidden, he noticed a woman standing in the corner stirring a large pot with a wooden spoon.

The big man sat down at a metal table and grinned, baring his mouth of gold fillings and missing teeth.

“Now we can talk. Sit” he said pointing to a chair opposite him.

As inspector Tanner took his seat, the woman walked over and ran a gentle hand against the ugly man’s face, a look of adoration in her eyes, made him gasp with surprise.

‘What could such a beautiful lady see in this brute?’ The inspector thought.

Instead, he asked the same question he had asked earlier, “Who are you?”

“I am the man you were supposed to meet, the one who has been passing information to you for the past two years.”

“You’re ‘Fallen Angel’? You can’t be, surely?” The inspector responded sceptically.

The man the unbuttoned the front of his denim shirt and displayed another tattoo painted over his bulging chest muscles of a figure, with horns coming out of a head bowed, and two wings spread either side of him. It was a contrast to the brightly coloured snake tattoo on his arm, this was painted in pale colours that seemed to shimmer in the dingy light of the steamy kitchen, strangely understated.

“This is the Fallen Angel,” He said grinning. “It is who some of us worship here in Hells Campus. Well, those of us who want a better life for ourselves and our people. The Fallen Angel is a symbol of redemption for us. That no matter how bad our crimes, we can put them in the past and work towards something better.”

The Lady brought over a bowl of soup and placed it on the table, again that look of deep love crossed her face. She had large brown eyes, set wide and slightly tilted, her dark chestnut hair covered the left side of her face and then nearly reached her slim waist. Her dress was plain and dark with a touch of black lace around the collar. Her lips were full and bright red but seemed at purse into a petulant scowl when she caught the Inspector looking at her.

The man calling himself Fallen Angel must have also seen him, because he said: “This is Marita, she is my wife.”

Changing the subject, Inspector Tanner asked about the other man, the smartly dressed one who he’d mistakenly thought was his informant.

“He is known as the Accountant. He likes to count things, a toe, an ear, that sort of thing, usually when he is cutting them off his victims. He is not a nice man. Even here, in a district where most people have had to do unpleasant things to survive, he stands out as evil.”

Marita pulled back the hair to expose a scar where her left ear should have been. It spoke far more than words would have done.

Inspector Tanner kept the shock he’d felt out of his voice and calmly asked, “And he works for the Armstrong Gang who’s been responsible for the recent murders?”

“The Armstrong gang are small fry, they are yesterday’s men. It’s true they used to run things down here, but that was before another group came along, bringing with them a new religion. I said some of us worshipped the Fallen Angel. Well, some believe that we have nothing left but to embrace the darkness. this new gang Diablo De La Muerte, they worship Santa Muerte, the lord of murder and death.”

“I did not realise that religion was to blame for all the recent killing,” Inspector Tanner said.

“Hasn’t religion been behind most of the killing in History?” The man responded. He had a look of a religious zealot himself. A look of Marvellous ecstasy in his eyes. This man was as much a fundamentalist as the people he opposed. However, he seemed like the lesser of two evils in this case.

“Tell me everything” Inspector Tanner said, pulling out his recording crystal.

 

***

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 26/April/2019 

 

This story also contains the following Word Prompts:

 

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/26/rdp-friday-rash/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/26/marvelous/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/26/your-daily-word-prompt-worship-april-26-2019/

FOWC with Fandango — Lady

https://lightmotifs.wordpress.com/2019/04/25/three-things-challenge-pl71/

Today’s prompt: accountant, toe, lace

 

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/05/19/understated/

FOWC with Fandango — Ambivalent

 

 

 

 

 

Finish the Story – Dec #4 – The Snow Angel,

Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith has tagged me in one of her brilliant Finish the Story challenges.

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/finish-the-story-dec-4/

Rules

  1. Copy the story as it appears when you receive it (and the rules please)
  2. Add somehow to the story in which ever style and length you choose
  3. Be sure to pingback or comment on the original post please. Please use the tag THWFTS.
  4. Tag only 1 person to continue the story
  5. Have fun!

Part One: 

Harriet loved the Christmas season. Everything went up Thanksgiving evening and didn’t come down until New Year’s Eve. People could see her Christmas tree from the other end of the block. 

This year, Harriet’s theme was the snow angel. Her tree was flocked with white, glistening snow and decorated with cherubs and angels of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Tiny angels surrounded snowmen on the mantle and Santa even had a young angel girl riding in the sleigh with him, while Mrs. Claus entertained a Snow Angel Brownie troop back at the North Pole.

Her house was filled with Christmas music and everywhere she looked, there was joy. Everywhere except in her heart. No one knew how lonely Harriet was and how much she longed for company. Oh, neighbors would stop at the door when caroling and families would wave as they walked past, but none came to visit.

Two weeks before Christmas a snowstorm struck the town and left behind nearly a foot of snow. Mr. Chen and Mr. Howard were kind enough to snowplow the neighborhood’s sidewalk. They salted the main walk and all the way up to Harriet’s door. 

“Thank you, gentlemen,” she said as they tossed a final handful of salt on her porch. “Would you like to come in for hot chocolate?”

The two men smiled and made their apologies for not having time, and went on their way. Harriet understood, but was saddened just the same. She closed her front door and went into the kitchen to pour herself a cup. While looking out the back window, she gasped. 

“Well, I wonder who made that,” she said. “It’s a perfect snow angel.”

She looked around for footprints, but there were none. Just a perfect little angel in the snow.

Part two:

Then as she stood there in her pink woollen cardigan, with her slippers slowly getting wet from the melting snow, Harriet, gazed up and saw something amazing, something magical.

As Angel hovered in the sky, just by her old Oak tree, flapping its white’s wings. He was a male angel, who looked quite old and had a lopsided golden halo over his bald head.

“Oh, Excuse me. I do apologise for making an impression in the snow. I’ve not had these wings for very long and I jumped out of your tree, but didn’t get the hang of them in time, so I landed face down in your garden. I am sorry. I’m just so clumsy, I fumble all the time.”

Slightly bewildered, Harriet gaped open-mouthed and just managed to mumble “That’s quite alright”.

“My Names Clarence. What’s yours?” he flew down towards her and held out his hand then awkwardly nearly knocked her over. 

“I’m Harriet,” she said as she shook his hand. It was warm and he had a nice friendly smile, so she decided to be hospitable. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” she offered.

“Well, that’s very kind of you. Yes, I would, very much. I haven’t had a good cup of tea in simply ages.”

As she put the kettle on, she heard banging coming from the living room. He certainly was a very clumsy Angel.

Clarence had knocked over her easel and there was paint all over the floor. He picked up her latest picture, it was a painting of the local park, with the ducks on the pond and some children playing with a toy boat.

“Did you paint this?” Clarence asked.

“Yes, yes I did. Do you like it?” Harriet was so pleased. She had learned to paint at college and had always enjoyed it, but no one had ever come in for long enough for her to show her paintings to. They were mostly of the local area, they usually had children in them.

“I think it is a masterpiece,” Clarence said, “I think you need to share this with other people. In fact, I’ve made up my mind, I am going to……”

To be continued …….


So Who shall I pass the Baton on to? Who would like to have a go? 

How about Sadje at Keep it Alive? 

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/masterpiece/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/rdp-thursday-fumble/