Haley Thistle
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Gargoyle Boyfriend: Plume (special preview)
🕑 Added 2020-11-19 22:00:02 +0000 UTCIt was a dark and stormy night, so of course, your internet was out. It had been for the last hour, and as much as you hate to admit this, it’s driving you a bit crazy. You find yourself wandering to your phone to look things up or to try and play a game, but to no avail. At least the power was on, that you could be grateful for.
You’ve been reading, while playing old records. While it’s nice, it also feels a touch too quiet. You’re not exactly sure how being without internet makes the place feel that way, but there is a silence to your place that is a touch unnerving.
Sighing heavily, you set the book aside and get up to go to the kitchen. As you’re staring blankly into the fridge for something to eat, there is a loud boom outside. It feels as though your soul leaves your body and your skin goes chasing after it. The whole place goes black and something crashes into the sliding glass door of your balcony.
That shock from what was possibly a transformer blowing still has you reeling. Your guts are churning, you flesh is tingling. Your scalp feels as though it is sizzling in a frying pan. There’s clattering and scuffing coming from your balcony as something moves. Sparks fly up your back and burn the nape of your neck.
“Kitty?” Your voice squeaks. You push back the curtain to look outside, only seeing the black of night and your flection imposed on it. You’re finally catching your breath when something strikes against the glass door. Screaming again, you lunge back, hitting the sink.
Thunder booms and lightning illuminates the porch. You see something big out there in that brief flash of light. It takes up most of your balcony and has pushed aside the plastic lawn furniture that had been out there.
It bangs against the glass door again. “Please,” it says weakly. “I need help.”
You stand there unmoving, staring in disbelief as a lump forms painfully in the back of your throat.
“Please, before the sun rises.” Their palm squeaks down the glass followed by a soft thud.
You run to your room, searching for a flashlight that you realize has no batteries. You then take your phone, hunting down some of your scented candles and lighting them in the kitchen. Then, taking every nerve you have left, you push back the curtain to look outside. Of course, all yo get it glare, so you bundle those few nerves again and push open the sliding glass door.
As you peek around the corner, you see that big thing laying there. It has wings, huge dark feathery ones that it’s using to cover itself. You also see blood that is smeared along the floor and glass.
“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath. You really don’t know what to do. It asked for help, it sounded scared. You would be an absolute idiot though to bring this thing inside. Who knows what it is or what it could do? It could be faking. It could also be dying.
“It hurts,” the creature moans. “I’ll do anything...please.”
Pushing open the sliding glass door the creature pulls itself inside and lays there in the middle of your kitchen. You kneel down near it, but it keeps itself covered by the huge feathery wings.
Is it an angel? A demon? You can’t quite decide, but for some reason, against every sane argument in the world, you let it into your home.
“Where are you hurt?” Your voice shakes and trembles as you speak.
It breaths roughly then slowly props itself up. You can barely make anything out in the candle light, but you can see it is nothing you’ve ever seen before. The chest and shoulders are covered with dark feathers like the wings. The feathers smooth along the head, becoming dappled and shinier. The face is leathery and angled. Shadows seem to cling to the cavernous contours of the cheek and eyes, and their jaw is like a razor’s edge.
“Something struck me as I was flying.” They left their long arm from their belly where there is blood.
Your hand trembles as you reach for a hand towel hanging on the stove. “It’s okay, just don’t hurt me.”
“I won’t,” they wheeze.
