Part 5



I had to crook my neck back to properly see him, as he hadn't stepped away from where he'd spoken in my ear. He was tall, six foot 3 at the very least, and well built. He actually glowed, the softest hint of light emanating from him from head to toe. My eyes raked over him, absorbing every detail.
They took in the well-worn black leather boots that reached half way up his calf, scuffed a purplish grey the the toe and heels and deeply creased - evidence of being worn constantly. He was wearing trousers that reminded me of Jareth the Goblin Kings', in the film Labyrinth, except not as skin tight and.. revealing. Sloppily tucked into the waist band at the front was a loose, billowy white shirt, with the top buttons undone casually. The sleeves swelled out from just above his elbow, then cinched in at the cuffs on his wrists. His shirt also seemed to flutter slightly in a breeze, just like my dress.
He coughed into his fist, drawing my eyes up from where they'd been lingering a little too long on the slightly exposed chest the undone buttons showed. I blushed, but soon forgot myself when I met his eyes.
"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to startle you," He gave me a gorgeous lop-sided grin, his eyes full of amusement. He had one of the best British accents I'd heard. His voice was deep, and rich with a slightly husky edge to it. The type of voice that was both strong and soft at the same time, and would be perfect for reading aloud poetry or stories.
I quickly gathered my wits and managed to shut my gaping mouth. "Who are you?" I croaked. My voice in comparison to his, still sounded rusty and hoarse, as if I hadn't used it for years. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling extremely inadequate.
"My apologies, I should have introduced myself before. You see I feel I already know you so well, I forgot you have no idea who I am." He looked embarrassed at himself. He paused, looked at me intently for a moment, then decidedly stuck out his hand towards me. "Here, let me help you up."
I eyed his glowing hand for a fraction of a second, before eagerly grabbing it. Electricity zapped through me from my hand where we were touching, and I gasped aloud. He swiftly pulled me up then dropped my hand. I glared up at him accusingly, but saw the same confusion in his eyes - he'd felt it too. "Thanks," I muttered, rubbing my arm. "...So who are you?" I prompted. He was staring into my eyes again, as if searching for something. Recognition, perhaps, as he'd sounded confident he already knew me. Conveniently forgetting my dead body on the other side of the room, I felt suddenly annoyed and disappointed that this was a dream - that I didn't really know him.
"Oh! Of course. Please forgive me, right now my thoughts are all over the place.." A look of torment crossed his face briefly. "My name is Alexander of the Archangels, but please, call me Alex." He smiled warmly at me.
I blinked a few times, as my mind absorbed his introduction. Archangels. Did he mean that in the angelic sense? or was that just the name of his family? I blinked some more. This was one detailed dream. When he seemed to grasp that I was unable to form words, he carried on talking, "I already know your name, of course. Aurora Giancarlo. And interesting name, might I say. Your last name is Italian is it not? And yet you look more Irish than Italian, with your pale skin and red hair." The last sentence sounded as if he was saying it more to himself than to me, musing over my surname. I was a quarter Italian, I suddenly remembered, on my fathers side. I was also Irish from my mothers. How clever, for this man to pick up on that so quickly.
"How do you know all this?" I restrained myself from visibly cringing at my voice. When would it go back to normal? "Where did you even come from?" I couldn't get the right amount of alarm into my voice, that I should have. This stranger, Alex, knew a lot about me, yet the only thing I felt was.. comfort. For the first time since this dream started, I didn't feel anxious or in pain. I felt safe in his presence.
I felt something. I was instantly reminded of the little girl, and the pain I felt from her turmoil. I abruptly spun around, the anxiety and alarm that had dissapeared in the presence of Alex rushing to the forefront. I turned just as a man filled out the doorway at the top of the stairs.
He was short for a man, around five foot eight. He was solidly built, obviously worked out a lot. His black hair was slicked back with gel, and he had thick black eyebrows that dominated his guant face, and looked as if they were pulled down in a permanent scowl. Slimey, came to mind when I looked him over. Sleezy, greasy, creepy.
The hairs rose on the back of my neck, as goosebumps rose on my skin. I could feel all the blood drain from my face. I knew this man. Or had known him. And although I couldn't remember how or from where, my body obviosuly could, as it automatically tensed, adrenaline rushing through me. Gearing me up to flee. What had this man done to make me react this way? What couldn't I remember?
Without meaning to, my eyes slid to the battered body at the bottom of the stairs. No, he couldn't have.. could he? The little girl seemed to think he'd done something, though, also.
"No!" She screamed, her eyes nearly popping out of her head in fear. She kept her arms around my body, but changed her position; lifted on knee up, and shifted further back to the wall.
The man took a step forward, and sneered. "So you are here. I've been looking for you, girlie." His voice was high-tenor, and cold. "You had me worried you'd got out." He stepped forward again.
"Go away!" She cried, her voice piercing. I found I couldn't breathe, that panic was rising in my throat. My eyes kept flicking from the man and the girl. She started shaking when he started slowly down the stairs towards her, seeming to enjoy her obvious trauma, dragging the moment out longer. "Please leave us alone.." she sobbed hysterically.
"Us? Baby, that bitch is dead." He snapped, hatred seeping into every word. He stopped his descent a third of the way down. "Do you know how much trouble she caused me? Do you see this scratch?!" He pointed angrily at his left cheek, turning his head so she could see better, also giving me a better view. Four long scratches stretched from his cheekbone to his jaw, as if someone had clawed him. "The stupid whore thought she could save you. Well I showed her. She won't be trying to stop me again. You're all alone now, baby. You're all mine." He sneered.
"No," I murmured, my mouth bone dry in fear. He moved to carry on down the stairs, a new look of fierce anticipation on his face. "No!" I howled, in time with the girl.
Suddenly I was standing at the bottom of the stairs, between my body and the man. I stared at him, eagerly swaggering down the stairs, frozen in horror. Then with only the need to get him away from her, I raised my arms and screamed at him, willing him to stop, for something to stop him. The edges of my vision went fuzzy, as anger boiled up from within me, joining the fear and reinforcing my will with more conviction. "Don't touch her!"
I heard a crash from somewhere higher in the house, liek a door being slammed open. But I didn't take my eyes off of him. It was his reaction that got my attention. He abruptly stopped two thirds of the way down, as if he's slammed into a wall, and looked stunned for a second. Then he whipped round, and started yelling expletives at someone behind him. I glanced up, only to see two huge, extremely angry men pounding through the doorway and catch sight of him. They quickly took in the scene behind me, saw the little girl beside herself, sobbing in fear. Their faces turned puce, veins throbbing on the foreheads and necks.
"You sick bastard!" One with redish brown hair bellowed. I realised they weren't here to join in. They were here to stop him. And they looked more than capable, with bulging muscles, both standing at over six feet.
I quickly hurried to the girl, still buzzing furiously with adrenaline. She looked as if she were having a panic attack, her chest heaving withthe effort to get air into her lungs, as she sobbed uncontrollably. I placed my hands on either side of her face, and looked straight into her eyes. "It's alright now, my darling. You're going to be okay. Breathe, my love, try and calm down." My heart strained against the fist gripping it, more painful than ever. Tears filled my eyes, but I didn't look away from hers. She was looking at me again. I could see the look of comprehension dawn on her face.
"Ror-ri?" She choked out, still trying to control her breathing.
"Yes my darling, it's me. I'm here. Please calm down. Everything's going to be fine now, I promise." I stroked her face, shocked I could actually feel her soft baby's skin, damp with tears.
"You're glowing," She said, accusation clear in her voice. I glanced down at myself and saw I'd aquired that same shimmering light Alex had, except it was more vibrant and strong. I laughed at the absurdity of it.
"I-I'm so scared-d, Ror-ri, P-Paul was ab-b-bout to get me," She heaved out, "Wh-why aren't you h-here?"
"I am here, I never left you." I said, all laughter dying in my throat, confused by her question. She could see me. She saw me earlier. What did she mean? "I'll never let him get you." So he was called Paul.
She merely nodded, her chest slowing down. I was aware of the two men dragging Paul back up the stairs away from her, and of a fight starting. I managed to pull her into a tight hug, momentarily feeling her little body's warmth, smelling her sweet baby smell. She was so young - too young for this.
"Aurora," Alex said softly from behind me.
"One second," I called over my shoulder. I pulled back from our embrace, and held her at arms length. My buzz was dying down, my sense of touch fading. I looked her over, checking for injuries. She seemed unharmed, just badly shaken.
"Where are you going?" She asked, slightly frantic.
"Just over there to talk to someone. Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't leave you."
"You're fading," She whispered. "I can b-barely see you Rori."
"Aurora," Alex said again. All of a sudden I knew she couldn't see me anymore. I saw it on her face, where before her eyes had focussed on mine. Now they lost focus, sweeping all over the room, trying to find me. I hadn't moved an inch. "Please, come here." I heard a note of urgency in his voice, so with a sigh I straightened up, and walked back over to him, my eyes still on the girl. She really was tiny.
"What's up?" I said, watching as the redish-brown haired man came back and scooped the girl into his arms. She buried her head into his neck, fresh tears and sobs erupting from her. I could hear him comforting her, shushing her sobs as he rubbed her back and closed his eyes in relief. He then turn to my body on the floor, and his face turned a deep red again. This time tears spilled over, and a look of pure pain crossed his face. I felt a familiar clench in my chest upon seeing his distress. What were these two people to me? That obviously cared enough about me to be moved to tears by my dead body. Why couldn't I remember them?
When Alex didn't speak imediately, I tore my eyes away from them, and met his troubled eyes. He was staring at me intently again. "Alex?" My voice was barely above a whisper.
"Things just got a lot more complicated." He said, and grabbed my hand. Light poured down around us, and suddenly everything was gone.