Feel the Flames

by BJ Sheldon

  Convincing myself I was merely being paranoid, I decided to refocus my efforts on what I had come to do. My eyes searched my surroundings, and I detected no movement from any of the windows in my line of sight. I craned my neck and looked down to the rooftop patio below. Rectangular fireplaces sat cold and unlit in the night air. The wind whipped back my hair, the sudden rush of air forcing me to catch my breath. I leaned over a bit further and inspected the scene some more, searching for any access to the building’s interior.

  The city continued to sleep, but in a matter of minutes, I would be visible to anyone who might glance in my direction. I needed to get out of sight…and soon. I could easily drop to the street from the rooftop if I so chose, but I would increase my risk of being seen.

  Frantic for an escape from where I stood, I noticed a platform at the other end of the sign above the patio. I remembered seeing an alleyway on my flight in before landing and decided that could possibly be the best place to drop unseen. I reached out and grasped the middle bar which held up the sign, careful to balance myself on the sloping roof. I hung on with both hands and bent my knees, compacting myself as small as I could before pushing off sideways, grabbing the last metal bar. I pulled myself up to the rooftop platform and approached the edge of the building, looking out at the surrounding landscape.

  I was out in the open with the sun on the cusp of rising. Soon the cover of darkness would no longer offer me the stealth I required. I needed to get off that roof…and soon. Peering over the edge, I located the narrow alleyway between the hotel and the building next door. The walls of either side were lined with dumpsters which could provide some cover, keeping me hidden from mortal eyes. I glanced about one last time to ensure no one had spotted me and then dropped the eleven stories to the dark alley below, my wings catching the air providing me a softer landing than I’d anticipated.

  Darting behind a dumpster, I listened for any sign that I’d been spotted. A few cars drove past the alley, but it appeared I was in the clear. The veil of darkness would soon disappear, so it was time to do what I’d come to do.

  Blend in.

  Putting all that practice into use, I closed my eyes and concentrated, just as I had numerous times. I slowed my breathing and cleared my thoughts. My chest rose and fell, and after a bit, I could feel my body tingle and change. The muscles on my back started to spasm sending a shiver down my spine. I could feel my wings shrinking, feeling every contraction and blood vessel retracting.

  And then I felt nothing. I reached around, my fingertips grazing my upper back. My wings had vanished.

  I’d done it.

  With my feathers properly hidden, I gripped the hilt of my sword hanging from my side. I knew I needed to figure out a way to conceal it. It probably wasn’t a good idea to walk down the streets of town with a large weapon hanging from my hip. In my own little world, it was a completely normal thing to do, but the mortal world tended to frown on things like that. Plus, the whole point of being there was to blend in. Walking about with a sword would definitely get me noticed and make it hard to fly under the radar.

  I felt stupid for not anticipating that particular problem. But the sun would be up soon, so I didn’t have time to beat myself up too much. There would be plenty of time to do that later. I knew I couldn’t risk leaving my sword, the Speer of Azazel, unprotected in a strange alleyway. After all, there were supernatural forces that would kill to possess it.

  My mother had possessed the ability to conceal. I suddenly wondered if that ability had been passed down to me. My thoughts raced back to when the sword had revealed its true form. My hand had been slashed by a leather-clad attacker, causing my palm to bleed. My blood had triggered a chain reaction transforming the key pendant on my necklace into a sword. My fingers gingerly caressed the hilt. Could it be that easy? I looked around and found a piece of broken glass a few feet from where I stood. With a quick slicing motion, I left a deep gash in the palm of my right hand.

  I let the glass fall to the ground and reached down to my hip, extracting the sword from its scabbard. As the wound bled out, I held the sword flat on my outstretched hands and allowed my blood to mix with the symbols on the blade. Then, I closed my eyes and concentrated.

  I waited for something to happen, but my sword remained static and unchanged. It wouldn’t be long before someone noticed a six-foot-tall woman holding a sword in an alley, so I desperately tried to concentrate in an effort to force the transformation.

  But it didn’t happen.

  “Oh come on!” I barked. “Change already!”

  I wondered if I was just reaching for a miracle. There was a good chance my mother’s ability to conceal and morph items into something else hadn’t been a heredity gift.

  I thought of my mother. I remembered the stolen moments with her as I lay dying in the Badlands from the poison of my own sword. She’d come to me in a vision and saved my life. Even in death, she’d been there for me. As I stood in that alleyway, I hoped she’d be there for me again.

  The thought of her made me smile, giving me a warm feeling in my chest. But I soon realized the warmth wasn’t the memory of my mother. The sword had begun to vibrate in my hands. I opened my eyes. My blade glowed bright, forcing me to divert my gaze. I worried a passerby might see the lightshow and stop to investigate, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. It was happening, and I couldn’t stop it. The weight of the sword began to wither until the glow dissipated. I looked and found my old necklace lying in the palm of my hand. I stared at the heirloom and felt a bit of emotion welling up from deep within.

  As I gazed at the key hanging from the chain, I knew there was no time for sentimentality and quickly slipped the necklace over my head, tucking it into my tank top. I felt a tug on my palm. Glancing down, I watched my self-inflicted wound heal itself, completely closing up as if it had never occurred in the first place. I then unbuckled the scabbard from my waist and tossed it under the dumpster for temporary safekeeping, hoping no one would discover its whereabouts. After all, I couldn’t wander around town with that thing on and expect to go unnoticed.

  I suddenly heard footsteps approaching my direction. I peeked out from behind the dumpster. A young man was jogging through the alley wearing shorts and a pair of orange tennis shoes. He had headphones in and appeared to be deep in thought as he trotted along at an even pace. Just as he was about to pass the dumpster, he caught me in his peripheral vision and came to a sudden halt, jumping back with a start.

  “Christ!” he exclaimed loudly, pulling the headphones out of his ears. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  I stood tall and took a step out from behind my hiding spot, instinctively placing my hand over the hidden pendant around my neck.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” I replied in the friendliest tone I could muster.

  “What’s a girl like you doing in an alley behind a dumpster,” he asked with suspicion in his voice.

  “Oh…uh,” I began, stammering a bit. “I—I thought I heard a cat back here. But I was wrong.” I forced a grin to my face trying to come across as normal as possible, but by the look on the stranger’s face it appeared I’d come across as creepy instead. So, I toned down my smile a bit and stopped trying so hard. “I’m—I’m gonna go—now. Sorry again if I scared you.”

  I slid past him and hurried down the alley toward the street.

  “Hey!” he yelled.

  I froze and muttered to myself about blending in and turned to address him.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you forget your shoes this morning?” he asked.

  “Uh, yep,” I said awkwardly, scrambling for something to say.

  Shit, I thought.

  Shoes. Of course! How could I have been so stupid. I’d flown all the way into town in an effort to blend in with the mortals, and I forgot to wear shoes.

  “Um…I’m staying at the hotel and forgot my shoes inside.”

  “Because you were chasing a cat?” The man raise
d an eyebrow.

  Even I knew that my explanation wasn’t very convincing, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances. I suddenly became very aware that my face had become hot with embarrassment—I was positive that he didn’t believe me.

  But instead of questioning me further, he threw his head back and chuckled, his bright red cheeks growing even brighter with amusement. Without another word, I turned on my heels and again headed toward the street.

  “Careful! Don’t step on anything sharp,” he called out from behind me.

  I turned and tossed him a friendly wave.

  I hightailed it out of the alley and ducked around the corner.

  Smooth, I mumbled to myself. For my first attempt at blending in with the mortals, it could have gone better. But on the bright side, at least he hadn’t come upon me a minute earlier. If he’d seen my wings or watched me transform my sword into a necklace, who knows what I would have had to do.

  The city was quiet. I took it all in as the sun cast a morning glow on the mortals below. It certainly didn’t smell like the hills and it definitely didn’t sound like them, either. It seemed strange to me that people would purposely live in an area so populated, congested with vehicles emitting God-knows-what out of their tailpipes. I couldn’t fathom the appeal, but then who was I to judge?

  I turned and began to wander mindlessly up and down random streets, trying to blend in as though I belonged. I periodically stopped and stared at window fronts, wondering what would possess people to buy meaningless things such as large white gowns that wouldn’t allow the wearer to move freely about or various t-shirts with silly sayings on them. It all seemed frivolous and extravagant. But as I continued investigating my surroundings I came across one store front that captured my attention.

  Peering through the window, I lusted after the mountain of books that were stacked side-by-side on shelves that seemed to go on without end. I sat in awe at how orderly it all appeared—a much better arrangement than I had at my place. They were organized by genre and type: mystery, romance, self-help, mythology…I could scarcely take my eyes off the glory of it all. What I wouldn’t give to buy every single book and add them to my personal collection. I wanted to roam around inside and examine each and every paperback and hardcover, but as I glanced over at the door to see when they opened, I noticed the sign that read No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service. I looked down at my bare feet and realized how ill-prepared I had truly been for the trip to town.

  So much for blending in, I thought.

  I turned away from the window and stared out at the world around me. Mortals slowly filled up the roads on their early morning work commutes while others strolled up and down the sidewalk to their ultimate destination. As the hours passed, I became keenly aware that while I looked human, I didn’t exactly blend in like I had wanted. My crazy, wind-blown locks, bare feet, and ripped jeans made me look a bit like one of the homeless people there in town.

  Being around so many humans had begun to increase my anxiety. They were everywhere. In fact, I felt a bit like a rock near an ant hill…just an obstacle getting in the way of their progress. They all appeared to go on about their business without realizing how incredible their existence was or how close they’d come to complete extinction just a few months before. Some stared at their phones as they speed-walked to their destination. Others sipped coffee and strolled slowly to nowhere in particular.

  To them, it was just another uneventful day. To me, it was all brand new, and my senses were in overdrive. I could hear conversations taking place blocks away. I could see a guy picking his nose through the front windshield of his car half a mile up the street. And I could smell the aroma of every restaurant within a two-mile radius.

  I spun around, seemingly surrounded by mortal zombies, wandering aimlessly from place to place. I found myself back in front of the hotel and carefully studied my surroundings. As I surveyed the people coming and going down the street, a familiar head of pink hair bobbed up and down, finally stopping in front of a shop across the street. Pulling a key out of her pocket, she unlocked the door, and disappeared inside.

  Forgetting where I was, I began to sprint across the street toward Grace’s direction. The loud burst of a horn belted out at me as I was nearly knocked on my ass by a large pick-up truck. The man behind the wheel shouted some obscenity and showed me his middle finger while I staggered away from his front bumper. He sped away, running a red light, causing other vehicles to honk their own horns at him. I chuckled at the chaos and found my way to the sidewalk, jogging the rest of the way to the green door.

  Sean’s comic book store towered above me. Countless hours had been spent listening to him regale me with boring stories about this comic or that graphic novel, the guys who came in on a regular basis looking for specific editions, and the late nights he spent in the back room playing dungeons and dragons with some of his fellow nerds. I had always wanted to go and see the place he’d always called his second home, but I hadn’t been able to hide my wings and blend in with the others.

  But now I caught myself staring through the window, imagining Sean behind the counter. It made me smile to think of him rushing around, showing me around his pride and joy. The store had made him happy. It had always been his dream to own his own comic book store. Be his own boss, sell stuff to fellow geeks like him, and do what he loved. A lump began to form in the back of my throat at the thought of what could have been, but I brushed the thought away. Sean’s death had been tragic and unforeseen, but I needed to look ahead…not behind.

  I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Peering inside, I watched Grace organizing a stack of comic books from behind the counter. I rapped hard on the window with my fingertips, trying to get her attention. Without looking up, she held up a finger informing me she’d be right there. A few seconds passed, and I tapped on the glass again. Grace looked up, and her jaw dropped. Brushing a strand of pink hair from her face, she rushed to the door, her hand visibly shaking as she struggled to unlock it. After a few tries, she managed to get it open.

  “What are you doing here? Someone could see you!” she cried, with panic in her voice. Before I could respond, she spotted my wingless backside. “Wait. Where are your wings?”

  I brushed past her and stopped in the middle of the store, nonchalantly taking it all in.

  “So, this is it, then?” I asked, glancing at the loft on the second floor. “This is his store.”

  Grace said nothing. I knew my lack of wings was probably baffling her, but my mind was elsewhere, and I couldn’t be bothered by her confusion. I suddenly felt connected to Sean in a way that I hadn’t for weeks. He was there with me on each shelf, in each comic, in the walls, and the music playing in the background. I could feel him everywhere in that store, and I worked hard to keep my composure. I certainly didn’t need someone like Grace seeing my soft side, ruining my tough reputation.

  “Skyy!” I heard Grace stomp her foot. She was still standing by the door, holding it open and following my every move with her gaze.

  “What?” I snapped back.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  I shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood,” I replied, turning back around. A glass case at the back of the store caught my eye. It was full of collectibles, not unlike the ones that had once littered Sean’s trailer. I wasn’t sure who they were all supposed to be, but I knew they were superheroes of some sort. Sean used to point them out to me and tried to explain who each one was and what their power had been. I suddenly found myself wishing I had paid more attention.

  “You were in the neighborhood?” The tone of disbelief in her voice echoed throughout the shop. Grace finally turned over the Open sign, shut the door, and marched her way to my side. “Where are your wings? Did something happen? Are you okay?”

  I chuckled and shook my head.

  “Mortals. You always assume the worst.” I glanced in her direction and winked. “Everything is fine. I just needed the practice. I se
em to have mastered the ability to disguise myself to look…human. And, well, I figured what better way to try it out than attempt to blend in here in town.”

  Grace pointed at my feet. “You’re not wearing shoes. Not exactly blending in, ya think?”

  “Yeah, well. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing. I’ll remember next time.”

  “Do you even own shoes?”

  “Nope.”

  “Might wanna rectify that before you go out next time.”

  The bell above the front door jingled. We glanced over and watched a teenaged boy saunter in and make his way to the far wall. He pretended not to notice us, but I could tell by his body language he was all too aware of our presence.

  “Why are you here?” Grace asked, lowering her voice.

  “I already told you.”

  “No. I mean, why are you here at the store?”

  “Not happy to see me?” I asked, holding back a smirk.

  Grace grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me to the bottom of the stairs which lead to the loft. I could have stopped her, but she was clearly disturbed by my sudden appearance so I just went along with it.

  “Talk,” she demanded.

  “Seriously. There’s nothing going on. I wanted to try out the whole no-wings-blending-in-thing,” I babbled, waving my arms around, “so I flew in before dawn and morphed myself so I could see how the other half lives. And I figured since I was here, I might as well come by and see Sean’s place. I never got to see it when he was…” My voice trailed off.

  “When he was still alive?”

  I felt a bit of emotion welling to the surface but quickly turned away before she could see it.

  From the corner of my eye, I watched the lone customer slide from one shelf to another, curiously browsing each item from top to bottom. His eyes glossed sideways for a split second, catching my own before quickly directing his attention back to a Deadpool comic in his hands.

  “Well, this is it. It isn’t much, but he loved it. He put every penny he had into this place. But now…” Grace made her way over to the register and pulled out a binder from under the counter. “I’m not sure I can keep this place going. The landlord just raised the rent and I’m now two months behind.”