Twelve (2)

---

Ragel

---

The angel hadn't been here when the blast had blown away half the building; but here he was now, leaning against the frame of a door that opened to nothing but a thirty foot drop off that ended in broken glass and charred wood. The rising sun shone brightly over the desert horizon, making the sand look like a lake of acid, sparkling promises. Ragel knew better. There were no lakes, no rivers, no bodies of water anymore. They had all dried up years ago. Everyone had forgotten about the rain.
The wind, bringing across the land it's memories, swept through Ragel's dark hair and feathers. He could chose any shape, any sex, any race, and any creed that he so desired, but this one had been his favorite. Being in this form, he could move through the world, and never be forgotten. He was too perfect. His wings were the color of ash, his eyes and his skin that covered lean muscles were as pale as the moon. His hair was ebony, reaching down past his shoulders in a black waterfall.
Ragel sighed as he absentmindedly shook the two small objects in his hand, they clinked together quietly. They had been given to him by te'Valin, in hopes that they would somehow be the key to unlocking Merrick and Remle from their own personal hell. But Ragel wasn't sure how something so small could release them.
Tonight he would find Merrick. If he were anyone else, he would have been terrified to be in the same area with the Poison Mind. The energy he used creating his own tormenting reality was almost too much for even Ragel to bear. How could anyone be so lost? As for Remle, dear, sweet Remle...she would have to wait.
Ragel shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, leaving one of the stone objects. With a graceful step, he began to plummet to the ground.

---

Merrick

---

Broken glass crunched under his boots as the man began to pace the room again, the thought of the angel kicking around in the back of his mind. He wanted to see the winged being once more...just once more. Why had he showed himself now after all this time? Why had he waited? He kicked pieces of glass and they scattered like diamond cockroaches.
Merrick had decided to return to this room to wait for the angel, and in some ways, he never left this space. This had been his room before everything died. His bed remained close against the wall, the white blankets now gray and fragile. The leather straps that had once cut deep into his wrists and ankles were now deteriorated and rotten. The white paint peeled on the cement walls, leaving pieces all over the floor.
Merrick was getting impatient. Anger seethed through him, and he lunged to the wall, slamming his fists against the cement. Pain lanced through his arms, but he welcomed it. After his meeting with the angel had scrambled his mind even more, and he did not know what was real or not anymore. But the pain was real.
Merrick growled, his blue eyes narrowing. His breathing became more rapid and deep. It was only a matter of time before... "Angel!" he cried loudly as he pounded his fists against the wall again. All at once the tears came, streaming down his cheeks. "Angel, where are you?"
Silence answered him.
Every nerve inside him came alive. It was as if a dam had broken, letting lose a river of confusion and terror. He screamed, raking his fingers through his hair as he leaned against the wall, the cold, a shock on his back.
"Answer me..." he whispered.
The lights began to flicker almost immediately. Merrick sobered quickly, wiping his black hair from his face, and turned to face the mirror. His heart thundered in his chest.
"Patient 406, Merrick Caravelle, aged twenty-three."
Merrick froze, too overcome with disbelief. The mirror he had shattered two days before had been replaced; no broken glass or debris littered the floor. The paint on the walls was no longer chipped or decayed. The bed to the left of him was clean and neat. Everything around him looked the way it had years ago.
"Patient was diagnosed eight years ago with severe paranoia and schizophrenia. It's as if this man does not know what is happening in his own reality. He will be perfect."
"No..." Merrick whispered, backing as far away from the mirror as possible. It took only seconds for him to realize the cold seeping into him from the floor. He was no longer in his suit, but a white hospital gown, His hair was also cropped short against his scalp. The doctors...the nurses...the scientists...they were back. "This is impossible!" he shouted to the mirror as he backed himself into a corner. "I saw you dead! I saw you dead..."
"Patient 406." This time, the voice was addressing him personally. "Turn around and place your palms on the wall."
"NO!" Merrick shouted, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He looked at the bed. The leather straps looked like new. "You're going to tie me up again..." he said quietly, looking back to the mirror. Many nights he had spent strapped down to that bed, thrashing and tossing to release himself. "I won't do it again!"
"Patient 406," the intercom repeated, filling the room with the deep male voice. "For your own safety and the safety of others, we advise you to turn around and place your hands on the wall."
"No...please..." Merrick quietly pleaded as he slid down the wall and sat in the corner, his arms around his knees.
He heard the clicking of the lock on the door.

---

te'Valin

---

The boy sat silently, studying the peeling wallpaper with far-away interest. The flickering candle on the floor beside him sent light scattering away through the room, as if trying to escape the dark child. He sighed quietly, thinking.
Everything was in place now. The gears of the clock had begun to turn, and it was only a matter of time before it struck the hours counting down. It was all he could think of now. He had no memory of his human self before Twelve, no thoughts of his mother's face, if he even had a mother at all before.
The Shy Kin were the unbaptized children of the humans. Many think that Limbo would be the next step for an unbaptized child, but something had gone very, very wrong. Now they were cursed to to stay on Earth, the reason unknown even to Ragel. But this was te'Valin's world now, no one had ever told him otherwise.
"He's asleep." ce'Tor's voice was soft, yet raspy as te'Valin's. "He will be blind forever, but I managed to clean him up as best I could." She swept across the room, her dress which was made from any material they could find, brushed the dust and bits of paper.
te'Valin watched as the small shape moved across the floor and came to kneel at his feet. ce'Tor looked up into te'Valin's dark eyes, her long ebody hair fell neatly to the floor. In the flickering light, her lips slowly parted, and she asked the one question te'Valin had been anticipating: "Will it be this way forever?"
te'Valin's eyes closed. It hurt him to give no answers to anyone, especially when he was their last hope.