Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between the characters in this story and real people (appearances, names, etc.) are purely coincidental. This story may contain homosexual material, including love and sex, so if material like this is illegal in your region or if it discomforts you, please leave.
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Devon woke up from the most restful sleep he'd ever had. His mind was not fuzzy with sleep, nor were his muscles required to get used to moving again. He felt lazy.
Devon if he'd just received a full body massage by the strongest and most gentle hands in existence.
Devon sat up, confused at his mostly nude state. The blanket off his torso as he sat up, exposing his bare furred chest.
"Hemmel," Edward Winston said in surprise when he entered the examination room. "You're awake. Good to see you, mate. Jennings, get the lieutenant."
"How long've I been out, Winston?" Devon asked.
"Umm," Winston began as he shrugged, "'bout thirteen hours. Nothing electronic works. No batteries, no solar power, no hydro. We're telling time by a sundial outside the business wing."
Devon glanced around the room quickly, and the room was lit by a dozen or so candles.
"The- the- alien?" Devon asked as he swung his legs to side, allowing gem dangle over the bed.
"Remains unconscious in another room," Winston replied, sounding unsure. "How are you feeling, Hemmel? Really? Dr. Afshin has been checking your vitals hourly using a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. She said you seem fine. But nobody could be certain."
"I'm good, Winston," Devon told the blonde, shaking his head in disbelief at the whole situation. "Seriously. I feel magnificent, actually. Like I spent a whole afternoon getting a massage."
"Let me guess," Winston said with a smirk, "by a tall, dark, handsome man with magical hands?"
"Three," Devon responded with a small smile. "All nude. And oiled."
"You randy bugger."
"What else is happening, Winston?" Devon asked, suddenly serious again.
Winston shrugged before he answered, "Not much. We can't really do anything with no power. We aren't even able to send or receive morse code. But two soldiers of each Triple-Seven, USSF, and UKSF make up a small group that is traveling south on a handcar to see how far the blackout traveled. They left 'bout... six hours ago, I guess."
"How far do they think the blackout went?" Devon asked, concerned.
"Nobody can tell. The teams that left have orders to establish communications with their respective governments and return when they've found power with functional communications. That was six hours ago, Hemmel. It's not looking good. The blackout went all the way to the Cairo Airport, Hemmel. Egypt Air died as it was taking off. Air Arabia crashed as it neared the city, and Emirates crashed a couple miles out. Two hundred and thirty-four people died."
The door to the exam room opened. Lt. Wynan, Jennings, and an Arabic doctor entered. All wore expressions of expectation. Lt. Wynan's face then broke out into a soft smile.
"Hemmel," Lt. Wynan said gruffly, but Devon could hear the fondness. "How ya feeling, soldier?"
"Like I was telling Winston," Devon began with a slap to his teammate's back, "I feel fantastic. I mean it. I feel like I could go a couple rounds with a gorilla."
Lt. Wynan used his head to gesture the female doctor forward before he replied, "Ah, well, I would like nothing more than to witness you getting your arse handed to you. You defied a direct order, Hemmel."
"I know, sir," Devon responded bravely as the doctor strapped a blood pressure cuff to his arm. "But I don't regret it. It showed us that the- the alien doesn't force itself onto any of us. It sought permission before it touched me."
"It was stupid!" Lt. Wynan shouted. "You could have died, Hemmel! Or something worse! It could have done something to you!"
Dr. Afshin said, "Heart rate steady at sixty-seven beats per minute. Blood pressure is one-nineteen over seventy-seven. Perfectly healthy."
"If we are able to contact Mother England, Hemmel, I am putting you on a thirty-day detention. That's if we get out of this alive."
Dr. Afshin had taken a vial of blood from Devon with the explanation that she would study it under a microscope for any anomalies or issues. So Devon dressed in his tee and pants and went to the cafeteria.
"He's alive!" Curtis McCann cried dramatically as he sat his tray down on the table beside Devon. "Gave us quite the scare there, Bender. Hayes here near cried himself to death 'cause he thought he was losing you."
Cameron Hayes delivered a hard punch to McCann's shoulder and replied, "Fuck you, wanker. How ya doin', Hemmel?"
Around a bite of beef steak, Devon answered, "I'm fine, mates. Seriously. Whatever the alien did to me, I don't think it was anything bad."
"Yeah?" McCann asked, surprised. "Y'sure?"
Devon just shrugged as he chewed a bite of carrot. So Hayes asked, "D'you remember what it did? Wha'di'it feel like?"
"Well, it touched its finger tips to my chin," Devon began, confused. "And then suddenly I feel at peace, and my body feels warm and relaxed. Still does, actually. No tension. And you know how I carry my stress in my left shoulder. And then literally nothing. Just blank like I slept without dreams."
Gazing at Devon thoughtfully, McCann hummed, "Mmm."
"Why though?" Hayes asked, intrigued. "What did it do that for?"
"D'you think it corrupted him?" McCann asked Hayes as of Devon wasn't there. "Like, messed with his mind?"
"Could have," Hayes replied. "Hemmel, shoot me."
Devon, shocked, glanced down at the pistol in Hayes' hand and cried, "No! You've got to be jokin', mate!"
Hayes, unconvinced, turned back to McCann and asked, "Think he's still our mate? Or maybe his marchin' orders are to whack the higher ups. Think we should warn the lieutenant?"
"Oi! Mates!" Devon cried, frustrated. "I'm still me, ya daft tossers."
"Hayes! McCann!" Jennings called from the entrance. "Lieutenant needs all of us!"
"Akeron! Fitzroy! Babcock!" an American soldier called from beside Jennings. "The Corporal requires your sorry asses present!"
Devon knew that he was not called, but he rose from the table with his two friends.
"S'goin' on, Jennings?" Devon asked the redhead.
"The alien's woken up, gentlemen," Jennings answered as he led the three down the halls. "'Bout two minutes ago. It's not hostile, it's calm really, but we can't be too careful."
"Any word on the soldiers that went south?" Hayes asked.
Jennings scoffed before he replied, "What with, Hayes? We can't even test batteries, let alone get any signal out."
Lt. Wynan was standing outside the open door when the three soldiers arrived at the large examination room. The man stood rigid, his rifle grasped expertly in his hands but it pointed down at the floor.
"Hemmel, stay out here," Lt. Wynan commanded as he followed Hayes and McCann inside.
Inside the room were three scientists and a dozen or so soldiers. The scientists maintained a good distance from the bed where the being sat. The soldiers also held their weapons at the ready, armed, but pointing downward.
Devon watched through the window of the door as the mouth of Dr. Henderson moved, he had been asking questions. But the being remained sitting with its legs crossed at the ankles and its blue eyes seeming to look unfocused, distant. But it's facial expression was that of curiosity.
Devon chewed on the nail of his thumb as he watched the whole situation. Doctors Corheid, Henderson, and Amoudi all asked the being question after question, but the being acted as if it were alone in the room. It continued to gaze at nothing, completely still and quiet.
After about three minutes of trying to communicate with the being, Dr. Corheid grabbed a candle off the countertop. With it, he walked tentatively toward the being. Many of the soldiers pointed their rifles at the being, apprehensive. Dr. Corheid held the candle in the air about two feet from the being's face. The being ignored that, too, or maybe not really seeing it, even as the doctor waved it.
Dissatisfied, Dr. Corheid gave up. He walked away and sat the candle back down on the counter.
The scientists resumed their efforts, their mouths moving as they still continued to trying establishing communication. It only lasted a few more minutes before the flame of the candle closest to the being suddenly tripled in size. Alarmed, almost all of the soldiers in the room quickly pointed their rifles at the candle. They all watched as the flame lifted higher into the air away from the candle. The flame also floated to the middle of the room, to which the soldiers trained their firearms on the being.
Devon was totally intrigued, completely engrossed in the being. He had no doubt in his mind that the being was manipulating the flame somehow, but the being sat just as still and just as stoic.
The being remained uncaring to the soldiers threatening actions. It sat, eyes distant, but the flame grew yet some more. It was about the size of a basketball when it began moving in quick circular motions.
A rifle suddenly fired as one of the Egyptian soldiers was fearful and panicking. As with before, the bullet remained stuck to the being's ribcage for a few moments before it fell to the floor with an ominous clank.
Devon continued to watch with baited breath. He grew to become nervous, fidgety. But the being remained unmoving and unblinking. The flame stopped moving, becoming still also, before it suddenly dissipated. And then nothing. Nobody in the room moved, or spoke.
Lt. Wynan opened the door and said to Devon, "Hemmel, go gear up and come right back."
Urgently, Devon ran down the corridors. After a right and a left, Devon ran into the room in which he'd slept. He quickly dressed himself in his vest, helmet, goggles, and various belts strapped his to his extremities.
With his rifle in hands, Devon ran back the being's examination room. When he got there, the scene had not changed. The being sat with its wings perched behind itself and the ends hanging off the edge of the bed. The doctors remained standing about five feet from the bed, and the soldiers stood rigid.
"Anything happen?" Devon asked his lieutenant in a whisper when he entered the room.
"No," Lt. Wynan whispered back.
Dr. Henderson tucked his coloured pencils away into his lab coat pockets. Smiling softly, he slowly approached the bed, the notepad open. Dr. Henderson presented the artwork to the being, which was an old fashioned smiley face.
Surprisingly, the being's blue eyes shifted to look at the notepad. It stared for a moment before it stared at Dr. Henderson. Its gaze lasted only moments. The being then allowed its eyes to travel over each person, going counterclockwise.
"Easy, gents," the American lieutenant said uneasily. "Easy."
After looking at each of the seventeen people in the room, the being swung its legs so they dangled over the edge. It then slowly slid down so it stood, its wings folded neatly behind its back.
Each of the fourteen soldiers, including Devon, raised their firearms, pointing them directly at the being.
"Easy," the American lieutenant repeated, his voice even more anxious.
The being, nonplussed, took slow steps toward the counter. There, it touched the stem of a red poppy. The contact only lasted a second and a half, but after removing its finger from the flower, the being nodded.
"Hello again," Dr. Corheid tried communicating with the being again. "Do you speak English?"
The being continued to ignore the scientists. It moved to a flower pot that held a blue lotus, and touched the stem of that as well.
"Marhabaan," Dr. Amoudi said. "Hal 'ant qadir ealaa fahum ly?"
Dr. Henderson chimed in, "Tu loquerisne Latine?"
The being ignored them all. After touching the lotus, it touched the soil in the flower pot.
Devon suddenly had an idea. He strapped his rifle to his back and removed his goggles to the front of his helmet.
"Hemmel," Lt. Wynan said in deep exasperation. "The fuck are you doing now?"
As he sat his helmet down on the floor, Devon replied, "It communicated with only me before, sir."
Seething, Lt. Wynan warned, "Damn it, cadet. Don't make me shoot you."
Devon stepped closer to the being and said, "Hello."
What happened next surprised everybody. The being's fingers stopped mere inches from the pedal of a jasmine flower, and its wings gingerly spread out at its back. The being slowly turned on its heels, presenting its well-muscled pectorals and washboard abs to Devon.
Wearing an expression of humility, the being said to Devon, "My name is Alaeh. Hello, Mr. Hemmel."
To Be Continued...
I hope you guys are enjoying this series. I am uneasy about this one because I'm scared that I'll get backlash for the obvious element of angels.
Anyway, here are links to my other stories if you're interested in reading my other works while you wait for the third instalment of 'Tearing Me Apart'.
High School - 'Near Wild Heaven'
Relationships - 'Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking'
College - 'The Other Half of Me Unknown'
College - 'You Don't Mean To Hurt Me'
College - 'You Call It Madness'
Science Fiction, High School - 'Connected'
High School - 'Do Not Go Gentle'
tyler.christopher36@yahoo.com