Rise From Darkness

by Ciara Knight

  Who was more crazy? At least Bruce had an excuse. His hallucinations were from alcohol withdrawal. Alexander’s was from Gaby withdrawal.

  He pried the door open and crossed the room to the laptop on her desk. Not wanting to relive anymore moments with Gaby, he focused on his quest to find information on Alcoholism and the symptoms of withdrawal.

  Password? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He tried Eliana, cheerleading, Moore, and on and on. Nothing worked. Finally, he typed Alexander and held his breath while he hit enter. Still not right. He replaced the letter l with the number one and hit enter. It worked.

  He was her password. It was the equivalent of being the number one on speed dial. He smiled for a moment, knowing that when she’d created this password he meant something to her.

  Once she loved him, could he dare to believe she could love him again?

  The internet popped up and he typed ‘alcohol withdrawal symptoms’ into Google. He clicked the first entry and it revealed what he had suspected. Severe withdrawal symptoms may include hallucinations, shaking, vomiting, and headache. A person experiencing these symptoms should be monitored by a health care professional. Rise in blood pressure and possibility of stroke may occur.

  Great. Hospital wasn’t an option. He could keep Bruce from stroking out, though it might mean he’d have to reveal himself to heal the man. Which meant he would have to remain in this house day in and day out. Not what he wanted to do but what he needed to do.

  He had to be careful though. These hallucinations scared him. How had Bruce seen his hidden angel form? Could it just be a past experience or was there more to these hallucinations? Either way he had to be cautious.

  “No. Stop, make it stop.” Bruce’s voice carried through the house.

  Alexander slammed the laptop shut and bolted down the stairs.

  Bruce sat up in bed, shouting and covering his ears. “It’s so loud. My head is going to explode. Make it stop.”

  Alex walked over and concentrated on pushing the hallucinations away. He couldn’t calm him like Grace but he could keep the demons away by healing his dreams. He focused on all the calming sounds around them. Waves from the ocean—a bird in the air—Gaby’s soft hair—no—a tree blowing in the wind. He channeled the calm sounds to Bruce.

  A moment passed and Bruce released his ears. Relaxing down into the bed his eyes rolled back as the lids closed.

  Why did everything have to remind Alexander of Gaby? His entire body throbbed at the thought of her. He grasped his chest trying to make the pain go away. He couldn’t feel despair in the room with Bruce, only happy calming thoughts. It was the only way to keep Bruce from stroking out and himself from going crazy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sweet lyrical words of Amazing Grace floated up softly from somewhere downstairs. Gaby could picture Grace’s smile that exposed deep laugh lines. A slanted yellow glow on the wall indicated the beginning or end of a day.

  How long had she been in bed? Her arms strapped down? A dull pain in her neck and back meant it must’ve been days.

  “How long?”

  “You’re awake?” Sammy’s cheerful voice stirred hope the sun was rising. That it was the start of a bright new day. A day she could get out of bed and live again.

  “How long have I been strapped to this bed?” Gaby’s voice was hoarse and foreign.

  “A little over a week.”

  “My father—”

  “He’s fine, Alex’s with him.”

  “Alex. Are you crazy?” Gaby’s anxiety rose from deep within. “Wh-what, how, w-why?”

  “Gaby, relax. Don’t get excited.” Sammy walked over to the doorway and yelled downstairs. “Grace! Grace! Gaby’s awake. I need help.”

  The beautiful sound of Amazing Grace stopped abruptly. Grace entered the room with a comforting smile.

  No. She didn’t want the music to stop. It sounded hopeful, and loving, and everything she longed to feel right now. A sense of her mother’s warm touch caressed her skin.

  “Don’t stop, please.”

  “Don’t stop what, dear?” Grace’s hand grazed her cheek and then a washcloth rested across her forehead.

  “The song, don’t stop singing, please.”

  The music started again, this time filling the room and her heart. The anxiety withered away, back to the deep crevice inside where it came from.

  Gaby listened, concentrating on the sound of Grace’s voice, trying not to think about her father, Alexander, and the mess her life had become.

  As the song ended, the yellow glow on the wall faded. No. It wasn’t a new day. It was the same black dismal end of a day. It was just like the past several she’d awoken to, with evenings full of terror, fear, and loneliness.

  “Grace, I don’t want to do this anymore. Please, let me die.” Gaby’s chest constricted painfully with despair.

  “Shh, child, calm yourself, you’re through the worst. It will get better now. The anger has passed, most of it. Now you will face fear, loneliness, depression, and confusion.”

  “Is the worst of it really over?” Sammy’s voice came as a whisper.

  “Shh, go get some fresh water. I’ll take the next watch.”

  Gaby could hear the footsteps and the door closing behind Sammy, her eyes couldn’t focus though. Her vision was blurred and her body still itched as if a million flesh-eating beetles crawled under her skin. She glanced down at her arm. At least the boiling of her skin had stopped but she swore it looked ashen.

  What did she look like? Would she turn into a hideous creature like Forras?

  “I don’t want to look like Forras. I don’t want to be evil.”

  “You won’t, you’ll beat this.”

  “How do you know?” Gaby shifted trying to stretch her body.

  “Because you were meant for great things. Be comforted, she will never leave or forsake you.”

  “What does that mean?” Gaby didn’t know if it was the disease attacking her body or if Grace wasn’t making sense.

  “Just be comforted, you’re never alone.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m always alone,” She whispered. Yes, she had Grace and Sammy caring for her. But her mother had died. Her father in his grief had turned to alcohol. And Alexander had lied and betrayed her.

  How could he have kept the secret from her? How could she love a man who killed her own mother? No, she didn’t love him, she couldn’t. The thought she could betray her mother like that was unimaginable. It disgusted her.

  “Grace, how could he have done that? How could Alex have killed my mother?” Gaby choked the words out but didn’t want to face them.

  “It wasn’t him.”

  The voice wasn’t from Grace. Gaby looked around but no one else was in the room. Was she hallucinating again? If so, this was a welcomed mirage unlike the others she was forced to face over the past several days.

  “You are free to love him.”

  “Mom? Is that you?” Gaby closed her eyes and concentrated on the delicate inviting sound of her mother’s voice. Pure joy blanketed her body and soul.

  “Yes, sweet girl. I’m here. I never left your side.”

  “I don’t understand. Y-you’re dead.”

  “I am resurrected, a fallen angel with wings renewed.”

  Gaby’s head swarmed with questions. “Fallen angel? Wings renewed? That doesn’t make sense. You are my mother and you died in a car accident. I’m imagining this now. I have to be.”

  “We don’t always understand. Sometimes the truth is hidden in shadows. It’s our job to trust and be patient for all to be revealed.”

  “Trust, wait? How? The person I love…loved.” She quickly corrected herself, “killed you.” Gaby could feel darkness spreading from her heart. A shadow stretched across her inside over her intestines, her liver, her lungs, down her legs, and up her arms. A blackness, darker than a moonless clouded night sky.

  “Hang on my child. All will be well.”

  Grace started to sing again.
Keeping one hand on Gaby’s she sang and sang as Gaby whimpered.

  “I’ll stay with her, Eliana. I promise.”

  Gaby could hear Grace’s words but that didn’t make sense. How could Grace be talking to her dead mother? How could Gaby have been talking to her? She wasn’t just sick from a poison but nuts, too.

  The darkness spread until her entire body was buried alive in an inky blackness. Air choked from her lungs as the dirt pounded her down further into her grave. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t cry or scream any longer.

  Forced to lie there unable to move. Chest constricted with the feeling of pounds of dirt pushing down on her.

  Dying.

  Death.

  Darkness.

  It surrounded her.

  ****

  Alexander’s insides knotted as he sensed Gaby clawing at a coffin, screaming as she fought to free herself.

  Where was she? He had to find her. Help her.

  Forras’ laughter echoed through the night.

  Alexander reached out with his mind and screamed, “Gaby!”

  No response.

  He bolted from his chair beside Bruce and raced outside. Wings exploded from his body. He launched himself straight up and took flight, landing at a nearby graveyard. Standing in silence and holding his breath, he listened but no longer heard her pleas.

  Extending his wings, he hovered above the ground moving between gravestones to find newly interned dirt. The sweet smell of oranges wafted in the light wind from the grove nearby warring with the stench of death.

  He felt her struggling to breathe, speak, cry. The sound of her nails scratching at the inside of a coffin sent chills down his spine.

  “Forras. Tell me or I swear I’ll—”

  “You’ll what? You can’t do anything. If you kill me in anger, you’ll become me. You can take my place. Hey, that’s an idea. I win even if I fall. I’m getting bored on Earth and Hell sounds, well, Heavenly to me.” His sadistic laughter gnawed at Alexander’s already failing patience.

  “I don’t care. I’ll gladly sacrifice myself to save her.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Forras’ laughter faded.

  Gaby’s gasps grew louder, as if Alexander stood right next to her. He looked down at the jagged rock resting a few feet below him.

  Freshly etched in the gravestone was a name. Gabriella Moore. He dropped to his knees, his wings dragging in the grass. Gaby’s breath faded. Her heart stopped.

  He clawed at the ground, throwing dirt in every direction.

  “Hold on. Don’t leave me. You can’t die, you can’t—”

  “Alexander, wake, it’s a dream, nothing more.”

  Alexander jerked awake at Grace’s whispers. His heart hammered in his chest but calmed when he realized he still sat in the chair next to Bruce’s bed.

  He forced himself upright in the chair. Sweat dripping from his face as he searched the dark room for Forras and the cause of his nightmare.

  He mopped the sweat from his brow. Sweat? He didn’t sweat.

  Had he exhausted himself to the point of some sort of illness when he tried to heal Bruce?

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Flipping it open, he saw Sammy’s number, so he hit talk.

  “Are you okay? I sensed you were in trouble. Is it Bruce?” Sammy’s voice sounded guarded and suspicious.

  “No Sammy, I mean yes, we’re fine. How’s Gaby”

  “She’s no worse…What’s going on Alex?”

  “It’s nothing Sammy. I just had a bad dream. At least that’s what I think it was, and Grace woke me from it.”

  “What do you mean you think it was?”

  “It was a warning. I don’t know. I guess I’m just going crazy with worry about Gaby. Does Grace think there’s a chance she’ll recover? I mean a full recovery?”

  “I don’t know. I sense a hint of hope today from Grace. She made a comment about the anger being over and—”

  “She’s not angry anymore. Did she ask for me?” There was a pause and he knew it wasn’t good news. “I guess she still hates me.”

  “I don’t know if it’s so much that she hates you. She’s upset, lost and confused. Give her more time. I still think there’s a chance.”

  “Please, just call me if there’s a change.”

  “I will. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Concentrate on Gaby, since I can’t.” His voice wavered with sadness and he quickly said goodbye before Sammy tried to cheer him up. He didn’t want to be cheered up. He wanted to suffer, the way he made Gaby suffer.

  “Eliana. If I’d only known.” Bruce mumbled from his bed.

  Eliana? Bruce spoke to her all night. Certainly just a manifestation of the man’s desires, but it wasn’t the first time he’d experienced something strange surrounding that name.

  Alexander swore he felt an angel’s presence while he slept. Hadn’t he whispered to people in their nightmares when he was a healing angel? But what angel would be here? Why would Heaven send an angel to him?

  Alexander leaned over Bruce and pulled the washcloth from his forehead to dampen it again in the basin next to his bed. When he brushed his hand across Bruce’s face, he realized the heat was gone. No fever.

  Something strange was going on.

  The night had been full of pain and torture, Bruce had begged to die as Alexander struggled to drive the pain away. Too exhausted to continue trying to heal Bruce, Alexander had to admit defeat around two in the morning. With a heavy heart, he finally had to face the fact his gift of healing had not returned, not fully.

  Looking out the bedroom window, he noticed the first ray of light starting to break through the trees. He got up and made some toast in hopes Bruce would be ready to eat something, yet he couldn’t stop reflecting on his dream and the whispers that woke him. Had the dream been a warning? If it was, what did it mean?

  Maybe somehow Forras was messing with him. But he’d never heard of a demon affecting an angel’s dreams, only a human’s. Maybe he was affecting Gaby’s dreams and somehow Alexander was hooked into them. He tried to reach out and sense if Forras lurked outside, but he didn’t locate him. He couldn’t sense anything. Not one person.

  He returned to Bruce’s room and stood on the threshold. Alexander rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the ever increasing tension.

  Bruce sat up with a smile on his face. The man who screamed during the night now looked almost ready to get out of bed.

  Exhaling, Alexander entered with toast in hand. “I thought you might like something to eat.”

  Bruce nodded, the arrogance was gone leaving only a humbled far away stare.

  “Thanks.” He lifted his hand to take the plate.

  It was shaky, but a good sign nonetheless. Bruce was doing well, a little too well.

  What should have taken days or even weeks to detox happened overnight. Something wasn’t right. If his powers had returned, the healing would have been more immediate.

  What could have changed between the hours of two and five? Who or what could have interfered?

  “How’s your head?” Alexander inquired.

  “It feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

  “I’ve got aspirin if you’d like.”

  “Not sure my gut can handle it, maybe after the toast.” Bruce fidgeted with the edge of the fraying bedspread. “Is Gaby okay. I-I didn’t hurt her did I?”

  “No, she’s fine, staying with my mom until you get better.”

  “That’s good. I don’t really want her seeing me like this.” He looked down in obvious shame. “What now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you going to have me committed? I mean, I think I said some crazy stuff, and I obviously can’t do anything for myself. Heck, all I want right now is a drink.” Bruce looked away as if he couldn’t face Alexander with the truth.

  “No I’m not committing you, not today anyway.” They both chuckled as Alexander helped him from the bed.<
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  “So, you spoke a lot to Eliana. Did you dream about her last night?”

  “Yeah. I kept seeing her standing over me. Just the alcohol I guess.”

  It didn’t make any sense though. Eliana was a human, granted she was in Heaven now, but she couldn’t possibly be communicating with Bruce. A human couldn’t become an angel.

  Maybe it was Forras, but he’d try to torture not comfort Bruce. Something was happening and he needed to discover what it was. He knew Bruce never spoke about Eliana, but he didn’t have a choice. He needed to figure things out. Hopefully it wouldn’t send the man over the edge again.

  Alexander helped Bruce out of bed and shuffled toward the bathroom.

  “Did you um…smell her?”

  “Excuse me?” Bruce appeared perplexed by the question.

  “I mean—”

  Bruce held a hand up to Alexander and grasped the door molding.

  “I got this man. I promise I won’t sneak a drink while I’m in the bathroom.”

  “I know you won’t, even the cold medicines are out of there.” Alexander tried to give him a reassuring smile as Bruce closed the door on him.

  A few hours later, Alexander returned with a bowl of broth on a tray and set it in Bruce’s lap. The man’s body convulsed in protest over the lack of alcohol and when he tried to feed himself soup spilled everywhere.

  Alexander pulled up a chair and spoon-fed him lunch and, later, dinner. Initially nothing stayed down. But with each meal a little less came back up. Alexander tried to bring Eliana up any chance he could but Bruce wouldn’t talk about her.

  Later that night, once Bruce fell asleep, Alexander decided to probe Grace to see if she knew anything about this possible angel visit.

  After he fed Patronus and fixed him a bed on the floor next to Bruce, he headed out of the house.

  The moon shone through the intermittent gray clouds as he stepped outside. At the absolute silence in the midnight air, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He stopped and listened. Stretching his wings, he glanced down at the blue hue of his left wing. Extending his wings further, he took a step and crouched. Closing his eyes, he envisioned the woods around the house. Something was moving. A demon perhaps? It was difficult to sense. Why couldn’t he sense what it was? Maybe his emotions were too raw or he was too exhausted. It didn’t matter. All he knew was the creature raced toward his home.