Scars and Songs (2 page)

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Authors: Christine Zolendz,Frankie Sutton,Okaycreations

BOOK: Scars and Songs
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After an eternity of imprisonment, the harsh light assaulting my eyes blinded me when my cell door opened. I could see nothing of the creature that bound my hands with thick cord, only heard the bristling of its feathers to know it was one of my own.

He pulled me through a long tunnel that held nothing but door after door of the small standing prisons. The sounds of angels weeping filled my ears until I thought they would bleed. 
Horror

Terror

Maddening Desperation
.

The creature pulled me through a small entryway and into a cavernous room. Above us, I could hear the sounds of choirs singing and the laughter of paradise. I knew what I would see if I looked up, and my body
ached
to be home.

Beneath my feet, blood red cobblestones stretched into a narrow walkway that would guide me across the great expanse of the pure darkness that lay below. I
ʼve heard many times that somewhere there was a doorway to the opening of hell. Little did I know that it was so wide, so empty and silent, and so
easy
to fall into.

The creature pushed me across the stone scaffold until I stood before four golden thrones. The four archangels, Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Phanuel occupied each throne.

Before I could utter a sound, Gabrielʼs voice echoed throughout the room, thunderously vibrating the stones underneath my feet. “The corruption brought on by the Grigori degrades the human race. We saw much blood being shed upon the earth and all lawlessness being wrought upon the earth. The souls of men have called their suit against the Grigori, who said to bring our cause before the Most High. Thou seest what hath been done, who hath taught all unrighteousness on earth and revealed the eternal secrets which were in heaven, which men were striving to learn. For your involvement, Shamsiel, you will be condemned.”

I looked straight toward Gabriel, “Where is
Selah?” I knew I did nothing wrong.

Gabriel turned his head from my stare. He rose up from his throne and stormed off into the background. “That pathetic human is worth more to you than your wings, than your eternity, so be it. You should have never fallen in love with the girl. It would have been better to fall from the top of Mount Sinai though. It would have hurt a hell of a lot less,” he whispered.

Michael’s expression softened as he listened to our brother’s rant. “The child will be brought straight to paradise.  She will be
spared
,” he promised me.

Instantly, Gabriel’s wings engulfed me. 
Devoured me.
  I stood at no trial; I was NOT given a chance to plead my case.  I was condemned; exiled. 
Fallen
.

Then came the darkness again, illuminated only by the burning fires of Hell.   Fiery.  Fury.  Breaking.  Shattering my soul.

Lifetimes. 

Ions. 

Eternities. 

Hell
.

Until the low whispers of hope blew across my soul on a slight cool breeze.  I fell to
earth; set free.

Free?

As my eyes opened for the first time in centuries, the soft light of a dying sun streaming through a tarnished dirty bar window met me.  My body, now completely human, was splayed across a cold wet tiled floor.  Somewhere above me was a lone dripping sound, which joined with the incessant buzzing of an insect trying to fly to its death against the filthy window. Now here, everything is a dimmed, lackluster and dulled vision of the world I once knew.  My surroundings left a bitter taste in my mouth filled with despair and numbed each of my senses.  I felt this air was not worth the breath, yet my heart continued to pump its blood, the dirty oxygen running rampant through me.  The body I was in trembled, shook and racked with convulsions.  A silver tipped needle lay beneath the sickly ashen skin of one of my arms; a small trickle of rusty red blood rolled away from the brightly bruised puncture.  Then my new body purged itself of its contents; heaving foul toxic wretchedness all over myself. 

A pale-faced girl sat next to me with deep purple moons beneath her
wide dilated eyes and giggled.  Then the memories of this life I now have to live, introduced themselves to me.  This is me now, a miserable waste of life,
Shane Maxton
.  Heroin addict. Junkie. Sexual deviant.  Thief.  Liar.  Filth.  Human scum.

It took three weeks for this disgusting human body to go through withdrawals from whatever God-awful substance it shoved in its veins or up its nose.  Twenty-one nights of vomiting, convulsing, craving, sweating
, and trying to tear the skin off my new shell as I accustomed myself to living someone else’s life.  Three long weeks shivering and sweating under thick blankets, alone and confused.

Actually, living in this man’s body,
being human
, with all the irrational emotions that came with it, was worse than hell itself.  This world was less of a shadow of what it once was.  It owned its own darkness, chaos, and evil. It was impossible to describe how different the sunlight shone on Paradise compared to here now.  Everything once radiated with warmth and a glow, and you could see, feel, and taste each and everything living thing…where now it was a dull worn down substitute of a world that was long ago left to its own anguish.  Earth was a deeper, richer place then, where everything from a speck of dust to a blade of grass to a mountain peak had its own life and story; everything was just made of
More

Now, Selah was gone.  I am nothing more than a bag of flesh and bones, Shane Maxton, when I was once a god among men. 

Months passed as I stayed in Shane’s body and became
him
.  There was nothing else for me to do, but to
be Shane
.

I had been Shane for nine months.  Nine excruciating months
in this human body that is roughly nothing more than a highly advanced mass of nerves.  Emotions, hormones, wants, and needs rule it.  Walking, talking monkeys.  With their own minds, their own reasons, and their very own
freedom

Since
I was no longer an angel, since my wings and
my everything
was taken from me,
I fit right fucking in

The only thing to do was try to forget who I was.  Forget
whom I loved.  Just.  Fucking. Forget.

Chapter 1

 

I was so drunk, the room spun and tilted around me.  Music was playing in the background, some upbeat pop song that made me want to smash the speakers with the
almost
empty bottle of whiskey I was holding onto.
Jack Fucking Daniels
and I were hoping he could cure me of this life.  The thumping of the bass was vibrating whatever it was I was sitting on.  Thump.  Thump.  Thump.  It pulsated through my bones.  Thump.  Thump.  Thump.  My head pounded to the music, the rest of my body was comfortably numb.  Thump.  Thump.  Thump.  The whiskey thumped through my veins; I sincerely thought they were fuller of alcohol than my own blood.  I had kept the poison swimming in my veins for the last nine months trying to block out this sad, pathetic life I had been thrown into.

I felt a slight tug on my bottle. 
A strange pair of hands was wrapping themselves around it.  Peeling my eyes open slowly, I saw they were attached to a girl who was sitting with her head between my legs.  For a second, I wondered how I got there and I looked around.  It was Tucker’s apartment, the one he shared with two of my band mates, and it seemed as if there were a few girls here too.  Must be another party. Tucker was sitting next to me eyeing the girl at my crotch.  “Hey, sweetheart.  When you’re done with him, you should come over here with those hot little lips,” he said.

Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I tried desperately to crush the sharp sense of panic that started building beneath my skin.  I’m still Shane.  I’m still in Shane Maxton’s body.  Stuck.  Human.  Forever. 

My body felt as if it were caught in a violent riptide, pulling me, yanking me under.  Drowning me.  I had no more strength, or
want
, to try to break free; I just needed to sink to the bottom.  Lose myself to some sort of oblivion; let myself be consumed by the darkness.


Oh, beautiful, for spacious skies!  For amber waves of grain, for purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain!  America! America!  Blah, blah, la, la, la, laaaaa…” Tucker’s voice drunkenly sang off key.

“What the hell are you doing?”  The question was mumbled, garbled so that I could barely understand it.  Opening my eyes to watch the conversation, the girl was kneeling between my legs, lips over my dick; talking to Tucker.  “Well?” She asked.  “Why in the world are you singing the National Anthem while I do this?”  I’m sort of surprised that my dick found its way into a willing mouth while I was unconscious, but not
too
surprised.  It wasn’t the first time; not even the fifth time. 
Yeah, I seemed to live a charmed life
.  Although it seemed sort of surreal having her suck me off
and
talk with Tucker at the same time. 
That should disturb me more, shouldn’t it?

Tucker barked out a laugh and nudged me with his elbow.  “That’s not the National Anthem,” he slurred.  “It’s just a patriotic song.  The fucking National Anthem is The Star Spangled Banner, you twit.  And I’m singing the shit so his dick will go limp and you can start sucking off mine!”

My head felt so heavy it slammed down against the back of the fake leather couch I was sprawled out on.  I struggled to get words past my lips.  The room spun faster and I was just starting to feel the warmth of the mouth that was wrapped around me, taking me deep into her throat.  

“Shut up, Tuck,” I murmured as I grabbed the back of the girl’s neck, threaded my fingers through her hair and started pushing and pulling her faster against me.  I didn’t even know the chick’s name.  Hell, I didn’t even remember how I got here.  Last thing I remembered was being on stage.  A
nd all I could clearly think about was how some
Taco Bell
burritos would be awesome right about now.

The girl slid her mouth all the way off me, poured the bottle of whiskey over my dick and sucked it up so damn fast that not one drop fell to the floor.  The liquid was cool and her mouth was hot, but that’s about the only sensation I felt.  Hot.  Cold.  Hot.  Cold.  I’m too drunk.  Drunkity-drunk-drunk.

“Now,
that
is fucking talent!  She didn’t spill any of it.  Can I call you Hoover?  Dyson?  No, no…Dirt Devil.  The Vacuum Vixen,” Tucker slurred.

It took all my strength to turn my head to look at Tucker.  He was grabbing the crotch of his jeans
and hell
; I don’t even want to know what it was he was freaking doing right now. 
Creeper
.  There’s no way in hell I could cum in this chick’s mouth with Tucker that close to me, and I just knew he was looking at my junk and
he was in fucking awe
.  I still wanted a burrito.  I mushed the girl’s face off me and stumbled around trying to stand.  The girl who was just blowing me crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.  I couldn’t even focus on what she looked like. I thought her hair might be red…

“Come on, Shane, let’s go to your apartment,” she whined.

“No way, uh…
whateverthefuckyournameis
.  Tuck here needs a blowjob more than I do. 
I’mgoingtosleep
.”  I turned to Tucker and shook my head; the movement almost made me fall flat on my face, but I stood my ground.  Okay, I freaking slumped against the wall, but whatever.  “Tucker, that was the creepiest shit ever.  If you ever get that close to my junk again while it’s getting sucked, I swear I will rip your eyes out and microwave them.”

Blowjob chick jumped up in front of me and I flinched back.  The room spun even more.  It was like a demented out of control merry-go-round.  Immediately, I feared she’d grow a pair of fangs and try to suck the life out of me.  I slid down the wall awkwardly. 
Why the hell was the floor so close to me?
  Damn, being this drunk made walking anywhere so…impossible.  “Dude…where the hell are my feet?”

“No, Shane don’t go!  And I already told you at the bar, like fifty thousand
brazilian
times, my name is Jolie…Come on, let me take you to your apartment.  I’ll take care of you and then we could both sleep and…”

Fifty
Brazilian
times?  This chick is as smart as a brick.  I grabbed my bottle of whiskey out of her hands.  “Hell.  No.  I don’t sleep with girls at my place. 
Whatthehell?Gosucksomeoneelse’sdick
.”

“But YOU’RE the lead singer!  Not him.”


Twat
ever, I’m leaving.  And the
whiskeyiscomingwithme
.”  That
is
all I am; lead freaking singer and worthless guitarist.  There’s nothing else to me.  Empty.  Hollow.  Not even a glimmer of the walking god I once was. 
I’m the lead singer
.  What the hell does that even mean?  Who cares?  I didn’t cure fucking cancer with my voice, did I?  Nope.  I sure didn’t cure cancer with my dick, so why the hell does she want to jump on it.  It’s not like I’m ever going to have a
thing
with her.

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