The Lost Angel - Sample Chapter

This is a sample chapter for one of their "missions" where they attempt to save a life or lives of those who will die an unnatural death.

My vision returned. Colors swarming together, forming the world. A gust of cold air blew across my face. The nausea subsided quicker than before. Either I was getting used to the travel or the chill air was more refreshing than I thought. Vinny never bothered to tell me how instant travel works. When I asked him, he would simply reply "I'm an angel" and shrug, as if that explained everything.

I continued to lay there staring at the night sky. The light pollution made the stars harder to see. I must be in the city, smells like the city. Growing up in Chicago, I never knew the city had its own smell until I followed my heart to a small town in Ohio. The air smelled sweeter back then, when she was alive.

Better get to work, I thought.

I pulled myself up checking out the situation Vinny decided to throw me into this time. I stood in the middle of a highrise rooftop - lights from the adjacent sky rise illuminated the roof. The voice of the city came to life: cars honking, dogs barking, muffled sounds of people talking and laughing. I remembered when I could sleep to this. Now in suburbia, the slightest sound startles me awake.

Alone on the roof top of an apparent apartment building, I wondered what am I doing here.

“Am I suppose to save someone from jumping or falling?”

“How am I suppose to know?” Vinny answered.

I winced. I still wasn't used to him talking directly into my head.

"Why don't you just show yourself?" I said out loud, turning around to see if he was behind me.

“Because you would look like you’re crazy, talking and staring at thin air all the time. Plus, you need to feel like you can do this alone.”

"But I am not alone. I have a know-it-all angel guiding me," I argued.

“You learn a lot when you're dead and you do not need to talk out loud for me to hear you.”

Is this better? I thought.

“I think its better if the people you were trying to help didn't think you were insane. So, yes."

Good point. So where do I go?

“I get called only when a decision is made that will lead to someone's premature death. I can sense it and now so can you. The feeling will get stronger the closer you get to death.”

Walking around the roof top revealed nothing. I went to the edge and looked down - at least twenty stories down. The streets below were surprisingly crowded. The people looked like ants, scurrying around cars in no specific order, rarely using a cross walk. Balconies clung to the side of the building; some with folding chairs and tables while others were empty. I went to each side of the building and looked over the edge. A slim bald man leaned against the railing a few floors down while smoking. I felt my chest constrict.

“Not imminent enough. He will die soon but we are not here for him” Vinny somberly stated.

How do you know? I asked.

“Although it is not a natural death, it's not.... how should I say.... my department. I do not reap those who die from cancer or illness,” Vinny answered.

Should I tell him?

“I am sure he knows. He only has a few months left. No reason for him to quit smoking now. He will be fine - smoking is not a sin. Unless he does something in the next few months, he will be allowed into heaven.”

How can you tell?

“Lets just say, someone’s "vibe" is real. The living can sense it if they are perceptive enough.”

I continued on to the last side of the building. The muffled sound of music could be heard below. The base most of all - pounding inside my head. Looking over the ledge I could see people crowded together on a deck five stories down. They were all facing the same direction, as if waiting for something. Few wore fluorescent hats or other reflective clothing. The voices were faint and the music too loud for me to hear anything they were saying. My chest tightened and the blood drained from my face.

“Ah, the feeling of death. Been dead for eighty years and I am still not used to it. I don't think I ever will be.” Vinny reflected.

I didn't answer him. The feeling stole the words from my mind. I couldn't focus on anything else. It felt as if I saw my own inevitable death and could not avoid it -like falling from the sky, waiting for impact. I tried to shake it off.

The music stopped and I heard someone yelling over the rest of the voices. "Whoever doesn't have a good view on the balcony, your welcome to join the few of us going to the roof!"

Excited shouts rang out after the announcement. A few people even left the balcony to head up to the roof, while others took their spot -pushing and shoving to get the best spot.

Should I go down there? Maybe someone gets pushed over the railing while trying to get a good view I asked while leaning over the edge of the building. I was not afraid of heights before this - but after feeling death in my bones - falling up here was a very real fear for me.

“Likely. But wait a few minutes to see if the feeling gets stronger as the person gets closer. They might be in the group that’s coming up to the roof,” Vinny answered, his voice loud enough in my mind that he feels like hes standing next to me.

What could be happening that people would want to see from the roof? I thought to myself, forgetting that my mind was no longer my own.

“Fireworks? An air show? Godzilla? I dunno kid.” Vinny answered my unintentional question.

I was going to have to get used to that. My thoughts were no longer private when we do this, whatever this is. As a kid, I dreamed about having special powers like telepathy -reading someone’s mind and privately talking to them so no one else can hear me. It seemed like a sick joke that I met someone with those powers and they are using them on me.

I stood there for a moment and watched as more of the balconies below filled up with people. They seemed to be all wearing stylish, festive outfits. One man had a American flag suit on - complete with Uncle Sam's top hat. Whatever was going to happen would start soon. I left the side and slipped behind the small square box with a door leading down to the rest of the building below. The door flew open and people poured out onto the roof - some running to get the best spot. I moved in behind the last person and acted as nonchalantly as I could while trying to pretend that I belonged so i could ease drop on the party-goers. The feeling of death was stronger.

Whoever was going to die has to be in this group. I thought.

"Cut her off, she’s getting sloppy," whispered the man in front of me. He was tall - taller than me - lean build with dirty blond hair, wearing a less than festive suit.

"Can you blame her? Did you have to do it now, John?" replied a woman next to him.

John grabbed the woman's arm, pulling her from the rest of the group. "I leave tomorrow. I wasn't going to do this over the phone. I love her too much for that."

"So, break her heart in person. Real thoughtful of you." She turned from him abruptly. The few remaining stragglers reached where the group had stopped, dispersing themselves out along the edge of the building.

How do I know which one it is? Might be this sloppy one they are talking about, I asked Vinny.

“To be honest, I don't know kid. I never bothered to find out who was going to die. I just watched and waited. Sometimes, it was all of them.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I heard the words. All of them? That happens?

“Sure. Not often, and I doubt it would happen here. The feeling of death would be so overwhelming you would probably throw up.”

I could hear the group talking but I focused on my private conversation with Vinny. They seemed to be getting agitated. Shifting on different legs while staring at the sky. Some broke off into groups and were talking as if they were uninterested in whatever event was about to take place.

Big help thanks.

“Your welcome. You can try getting close to them - see if the feeling of death gets stronger. You might also try touching a few of them.”

What will happen if I touch them? I asked.

“I don't know. That's why I said try,” Vinny answered.

Touch strangers. Got it! I said sarcastically.

It was easier than I expected. Everyone was packed close together with a few standing off to the side, not vying for the best spot.

"Its already ten o'eight," A woman called out. "This is getting ridiculous."

"They are always late, don't worry. It will be any minute," yelled John. His posture seemed tense, as if he was wanting to flee at any moment. He sounded like the same man who called the group up to the roof. He stood a good ten feet from the main group. Why would the host be avoiding everyone?

Must be the host.

“Must be,” Vinny replied mockingly.

"Johnny, did you set up your going away party today because of the fireworks or was it just a happy coincidence?" A man asked, yelling over the crowd.

"Happy coincidence." John replied, lacking enthusiasm.

I brushed up against a few people as if I was looking for a spot and couldn't decide. I received a few glares and quizzical looks. They all seemed to be wondering why I felt the need to maneuver so close around them while there was plenty of room on the roof. I listened to them while brushing past them - nothing interesting or life threatening. The feeling didn't get stronger. Moving around awkwardly, I was finally able to come up behind the host and bump into him.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I hurried on past him. No feeling of dread or impending death.

"Hey! Be careful man. I am standing next to a ledge here. It's twenty stories not twenty feet!" John yelled back.

If he said more I couldn't hear it. A few loud pops echoed down the city blocks, followed by flashes of blue and green. Cheers were heard from the city streets below as well as the roof tops and balconies.

I didn't turn around to respond. I could sense death again and it was getting worse. I wondered if it came from me, the thought I would not be able to find them in time. The thought of failing and watching another person die in front of me, while I did nothing to stop it, was unacceptable. Then I saw her - easily the most intoxicated person on the roof. She swayed while holding on the ledge a few feet from the group. Something else was wrong. She was the only person not looking up when the fireworks began. The light from the fireworks brightened the rooftop like a strobe light - reflecting off watches, sequence shirts and earnings: red, blue, green, white, yellow in no order.

Staring at her, I could see the tears she tried to wipe away before anyone noticed, smearing her make up. She still had her head down while all the groups attention was on the fireworks. She played with her long thick blonde braid that came to rest above her waist. The feeling intensified. A bitter taste of bile came to the back of my throat.

“It's final.” Vinny's deep voice rang in my head.

I saw her hand drop from her braid and tighten around the railing. Then, it all made sense. This was going to be no accident. I ran towards her, pushing the few remaining people out of my way.

She climbed on the edge, sitting on it with her legs dangling over and dropped.

I grabbed the only thing I could - her braid. Catching it with my right hand.

She screamed as she hung twenty stories by her hair. She flailed while screaming at me - her legs kicking the wall. I felt people surround me - snapping out of trance the fireworks had put them in.

"Let me go! I want to die. Your hurting me!" she screamed - the pain making her coherent. She didn't sound as drunk as she looked.

"Letting you go will hurt more. I promise you" I said trying to keep my voice calm.

"I don't want to live! Let me go." She tried to pry my hands off her hair but I used my left hand to clamp down even tighter.

The people around me were in a panic; yelling to her, themselves and each other. I managed to pick up her name while they were yelling.

"Listen to me, Ash!" I yelled using the nick name I overheard from someone who seemed to be freaking out the most. "You're not thinking straight. I know what drinking can do to someone who is depressed. It can numb the pain until something happens while your drunk. It brings it back ten fold and you do something rash," Thinking back to the man I killed not more than a week ago. "Like ending a life."

I tried to think of something to use to snap her out of it. Her family? A boyfriend maybe? A dog? Everything was too risky to use. What if her family was dead? Boyfriend cheated on her? Dog ran away? I didn't know enough about the girl. Is this the sloppy girl John broke up with? Definitely drunk enough to qualify.

She was crying and still screaming in pain as I held her by her hair. I grabbed one of her wrists with my left hand, let go of her hair and clamped down on her wrist with my right. That's when I felt it - the overwhelming sense of abandonment. Words came unconsciously to my mind, as if the feeling was trying to define itself: pain, betrayal, hopelessness, abandoned and anger. I understood then what this was about. I had once felt abandoned too. But I had no anger when my wife left me. It wasn't her choice.

"Ash, men are complicated. We don't understand what we have until its gone. I know you want to hurt him the way he hurt you, but he will be hurting. It's easy to make a choice, it's much harder to live with it. Be patient, Ashley. You already knew you would be apart from each other, you prepared yourself for that pain. He will realize the pain he felt being separated from you physically is nothing compared to being separated emotionally."

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes and nodded. She reached up with her other hand and a man beside me grabbed it, helping me pull her up. Once she was up, the man embraced her so tightly I thought Vinny was wrong and I was here because this guy would squeeze her to death. People were sobbing all around me like they just witnessed a tragic death and a love story all at the same time.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." John was bent down with his head buried in her shoulder, still not letting go. "I thought I was saving you from having to wait two years for me."

“Nice job, Nick. However, unless you want to stand around and answer questions all night long, I think you should take this opportunity to leave.” Vinny said. His voice was clear, drowning out the crying and the fireworks finale.

He was right, of course. Once the initial shock wore off, they would come looking for me. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and put it to my ear and walked away as if I were calling for help. The group eyes were firmly focused on the couple. No one even noticed me. I quickly headed for the door and ran down the flights of stairs.

“There should be a maintenance closet on the fifteenth floor. They almost always do it every five floors so they don't have to go so far for supplies.” Vinny informed me.

I found the fifteenth floor and started looking for the closet. I could still hear the fireworks going off, going off rapidly in a long final finale. It was easy to tell which were apartment doors. I just have to find the door that seemed out of place.

How do you know about the closets? Did you work in the hotel business before you died? I asked.

“You would be surprised all the useless information you learn when you’re dead, stuck on earth, and bored.”

There! A door that didn’t follow the sequence. Quickly, I opened it up and went inside. It was pitch black.

Being dead is boring? I asked.

“All you do is watch and do whatever you were sent here to do. For me, that's guiding the souls who have died unnaturally. It's like watching T.V twenty-four hours a day and you don't get to pick the channel.”

I thought you reap all day?

“If I want to, yes. But if I don’t, I will never absolve my sins and will be stuck here forever... watching.” His voice filled with dread.

I thought all sinners go to Hell? I said with a question. I had never really given it much thought.

“Does everyone who breaks the law go to prison? For life? It would seem drastic if everyone got sent to Hell regardless of the sin that was committed. God is more forgiving than the living realize. He allows repentance for the lesser sins to be done even after you're dead."

What sins did you commit? I cautiously asked. It couldn't have been something to serious, could it? The first time I saw him he was dressed like a mobster from the old movies. Maybe it was stealing.

A long pause followed the question. In the dark, standing there waiting, it felt like hours awaiting a reply.

“Done. You can come out now.”

I opened up the door to the familiar sight of the cabin's bedroom -the musty smell, the seemingly endless supply of dust everywhere. Home sweet home.

Author's Note

This is a sample chapter to help get funding to finish it and publish it.