#uriahadriel

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The Patron Saint of Lowlifes and Murders: Uriah & Gideon Meet

(its really long I’m sorry)

He first heard of the murders from tv, around the time of the second. They had already started calling it a serial killing. The one just a month prior bore a striking resemblance to this one. Both were local no less. The biggest similarity being the way the corpse, or rather, parts of it, were arranged. It was this that really grabbed Uriah’s attention. According to the news it appeared to resemble “angel wings”.

The tv continues, apparently photos of the body were leaked onto some forum-based social media where such things go around often. Uriah had never searched for something so quickly. Sure enough, as fast as the post had been removed more popped up like hydras, all posting the same photo. A blush fell over Uriah. He stared at the image, blood everywhere in some alleyway. You can almost make out posters on the walls behind it, but your eyes were naturally drawn to the display of viscera and blood. Sure enough, intestines form wing-like shapes next to the body, arms across the chest. Uriah’s heart races. He couldn’t stop thinking about being that body, feeling that pain. It was so close too, only a short drive away. Uriah had this nagging thought. But he shook it away and got ready to go to work at the club he lives above. But he was clearly distracted all throughout the day, finally deciding to head upstairs early. That picture just kept resurfacing in his brain, he can practically feel it.

Uriah’s fall hurt. It was the first time Uriah had ever felt pain before. And he couldn’t get enough. The way it made him focus on one sensation, it muted all other things, and it took him over. Between that and the adrenaline, nothing could match it. Uriah had tried to find accommodating suitors but it was never enough. And no one was really willing to go as far as Uriah wanted. Understandably so, as humans do not recover from having their chests ripped open. But Uriah wasn’t human. Thrown from heaven, looking for free-will. Well, with free-will comes pain. And thank God that it does. Uriah couldn’t help but wonder if the others felt the way he did. He’d tried to find them, no luck. Uriah embraced the new mortal life, absolutely reveling in everything The Heavenly Father didn’t agree with. It gave him some kind of satisfaction to know he can’t be brainwashed. Deep down Uriah hopes the big man looks down and sees him, filled with anger. The stinging truth is that He couldn’t care less.

The sun was starting to set as Uriah sat down on the couch in his living room, catching himself staring off into space. Almost as quickly as he came home, he got up and left again coat in hand. After a quick google search, he finds the alleyway the last murder took place in. Parking a few blocks away, he walks down the block to pass by it, then circles the block. After two passes he realizes he can’t take it any longer. He checks that no one is watching and finds the streets to be empty, I guess that’s why the murderer chose this place. The murder was a couple of weeks ago and life moves on, all the police tape had been taken down. He wanders down the alleyway. He can feel it. He can’t do much but sensing and influencing emotion was a specialty of his, and sometimes extremely strong emotions stick around. Uriah tried not to linger too long, but it was like passing by a bakery. He could practically taste it. He sighs and heads back home, and as he turns the corner of the alleyway he bumps straight into someone. The man, clad in a long black wool coat, mutters some sort of apology and continues down the sidewalk, giving a slight look down the alleyway, something someone might do in passing. Uriah would have instantly forgotten the interaction if it wasn't for the man’s handsome face, and his fear. As Uriah walks back to his car he thinks. He might have to put himself into debt to find this person Uriah was so quickly falling in love with. The phrase “soul mates” floated around in his head. It took two days for him to finally break down and reach out to the person who could help him.

In his search for the other angels he did end up meeting other magical folks. One of which was Agatha. Uriah had asked for her help over the years, each time she insisted he pay for her services. This time it was important. As soon as he had a free moment, he visited her in her apartment. It was a run-down place. The thin walls meant you could hear televisions, conversations, babies crying in the halls. But inside Agatha's apartment felt like a garden. Plants everywhere. Everything from succulents to leafy ferns. On her balcony you could see a small fruit tree, thriving. Crystals hang in the window casting rainbow light onto the off-color beige carpet. Agatha doesn’t stand around to welcome Uriah at the door, heading straight to her couch. Agatha appeared to be a fifty-something woman, although Uriah doubted that was her true age.

“I see your buddha’s hand tree is doing better.” Uriah hands Agatha a stack of money, a consulting fee.

“Yeah, that cold snap nearly did her in. But I nursed her, brought her inside. I’ll send you home with one of the fruits.”

“I’m sorry to be so blunt but I really need your help. I have to find someone.”

“Okay, we’ve been through this before. Do you have anything to go off of?”

“This time it’s a specific person. But no, I have almost nothing.”

“Well, what do you have?”

He sighs “I don’t want to get into details, but I went to the last place I know he was. The emotional aura was still there. It had been several weeks though. I don’t know how much longer it’ll stick around.”

“Emotional Aura? What happened? You know we don’t just leave an aura around willy-nilly, there had to have been an emotional event. Why don’t you tell me?”

“You won’t help if I do…” Uriah smiles nervously.

“Well, you’re in luck. If any aura is still there you have a chance.” She stands with a grunt and walks over to another room, careful not to let Uriah peek inside. She comes back out with a pendant in hand, made of a large glass marble. The marble seemed to change color with each angle, and it was wrapped in wire. Uriah takes it and inspects the simple looking pendant. Uriah knows better than to question its appearance. Unassuming things are often the most powerful. “You’ll have to go back to wherever you first felt the aura. And don’t lose it.”

          “Agatha you are a darling.”

          “I’m serious Uriah, that’s the only seer’s stone in the world and I’m trusting you, despite your track record. I hope your desire to find this person motivates you to not lose that necklace, got it?”

          “Why do you trust me so little? Of course, I’ll take care of it.” He says as he puts it on, it hangs low on his chest. “How does it work?”

“It can sense large amounts of a certain aura. That’s why you gotta bring it back there. Small stuff isn’t going to work though. It all runs together, it's a mess. So good luck.” Uriah blows a kiss to Agatha as he leaves and she rolls her eyes with a smile.

That night he makes his way back to the alleyway. It’s raining ever so slightly; Uriah’s shoes make ripples in small puddles scattered here and there. He pulls the marble out from under his shirt and rubs it with his thumb. “Come on girl…you can do it…” He whispers to the necklace. He stares at it, begging it to do anything, looking for the smallest bit of a spark in the glass. But it produces nothing. It doesn’t glow, heat up, float. Nothing. Maybe Agatha pulled the wool over his eyes. She’d never done that before but Uriah had fallen out of the habit of trusting people. He sighs and turns around the corner. Once again, in a moment of Deja vu he turns straight into a tall man. Urish looks up to apologize and realizes it’s the same man as before. Before Uriah has time to wonder what he’s doing here again before the necklace glows on impact, the flash lights up the man’s face. Uriah’s eyes widen, “You!” The other man books it down the street, his long coat trailing behind him. “H-Hey!” Uriah groans and takes off after him. Streetlights are far apart, leaving areas of pure blackness. Uriah starts to slow. His breath sticks in his throat. As he slows down, he passes another pocket of darkness. Suddenly someone grabs him from behind, hand over his mouth, a point to his stomach. A voice whispers into his ear.

“You shouldn’t have followed me.” A shiver runs down Uriah’s spine, and he can feel his face heat up.

“He’s so tall!” Uriah squeals in his head. Uriah clearly has no plans to scream. He tries to get out a muffled sentence. Surprised by Uriah’s lack of screaming or crying, he lifts his hand a little.

Uriah repeats himself, “What if this was what I wanted?”

“What?” he hisses into Uriah’s ear.

“Stab me, come on, do it. Although if I were you I’d stick around to make sure I stay dead. I won’t.”

“You’re insane...” This didn’t make any sense to him.

“I’ll go wherever you take me. Please. I-I’ll tell the police what you look like! If you don’t take me with you, your likeness will be plastered everywhere! ” he lies.

The figure growls and pushes Uriah against a fence. Light crosses Uriah’s face. A switch flicks in the man’s head. Uriah was something else. Something about his eyes. And how he doesn’t flinch at the knife at his stomach. He doesn’t look scared at all. Uriah can’t take it anymore; he grabs the murderer’s hand and thrusts the knife into his own stomach. Blood starts to cover their hands. Uriah smiles before doubling over and gasping for air, He should have screamed but he didn’t, tears form in his eyes, but his smile remains. The murderer is shocked. Without thinking they pick Uriah up in a bridal carry and starts to bring the angel to their car.  As they walk the streetlamps light up the figure’s face. Uriah catches glimpses, they’re focused on where they’re going so Uriah only gets a view from below. But he was handsome. With shoulder-length brown hair. There was a spot of blood on his face. Shaking. Uriah reaches up and wipes it away, only to leave a longer streak of blood onto his cheek.

“Anyone ever tell you how gorgeous you are?” Uriah sighs dreamily.  

The man can’t help but smile. He couldn’t imagine being complemented by someone who looks this beautiful. “This is the first time one of you has ever had a pleasant thing to say, let alone while bleeding from the stomach.”

Uriah laughs. “Don’t worry about me. Please, tell me your name. My name is Uriah.”

“Your parents had interesting tastes.”

“Please?”

The man sighs. “Gideon. Too bad you won’t have long to remember it.”  

“You’re very confident in your assurance that I’m going to die. I wouldn't bet on that.” As they get to Gideon’s car Gideon opens the lock and lays Uriah down in the back seat. “Aw, you don’t want to seen with me?”

Gideon doesn’t respond.

“I don’t know, I think I need a kiss to make it through...” Gideon closes the door, looking serious. But as he turns away he smiles, this fool is kind of cute. What should he do? Gideon thinks as he gets in the car. He might just have to keep him around. The drive was quiet, Uriah was quiet. Perhaps he had been too forward? Uriah puzzled. He seemed annoyed by Uriah’s persistence. I guess he should have expected that. Not to mention Uriah threatened to turn him into the police, but no one in their right mind would have taken that threat seriously. He just wanted to feel it. The street turns turbulent, and Uriah recognizes the sound of an automated gate. They must be close, thank god because soaked clothes are uncomfortable no matter what they’re soaked in. Until now Uriah didn’t notice the dark towels covering the leather upholstery of this car. The car, Uriah realizes, is very nice. Very nice. Uriah was getting the idea that this guy was a big deal.

“You’ve been quiet, you alive back there?”

“This is going to be a long explanation I can tell.” Gideon gets out and carries Uriah into the house and into a bathtub for examination. 

“This won’t be enough, I promise you.” 

“Brave are you?" Gideon watches Uriah, His breathing is unsteady but his head is leaned back against the cold basin with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. He looks like he’s in ecstasy.  

“I have to be honest with you. I’m an angel. I shouldn’t tell just anyone that. But now we’re on an equal footing. I know your secret, you know mine.” 

An angel huh? He looked up at Uriah. He could see himself calling this man “angel”. 

“Do I look pretty?” Uriah’s eyes open, Gideon realizes he’s been staring. Gideon feels his heart jump, but he doesn’t want to show his feelings yet. He feels the large hunting knife at his side and pulls it from inside his coat, passing it from hand to hand casually, “So, if I cut you up with this you won’t die?”

“I promise. I’d do this for you every day.”

Gideon could feel himself soften. He can’t start to feel things for this doomed man. “What makes you think I’m interested?”

Uriah’s smile dips. “Then...I guess you’ll just throw me in a ditch.” 

“I guess we’ll see about that.”

He looks dejected, as GIdeon puts the knife back in his holster. but Uriah feels a mood shift. He can’t lose Gideon. “You probably should keep me here. Until you’re sure I’m dead.”

“Yeah, you’d like that huh?” All kinds of things run through Gideon’s head. He is suddenly overcome with the urge to destroy the angel. Rip him apart. God, he wants that so bad. But exhaustion starts to set in. There’s blood on his hands, arms, stomach. “I need to clean up. Stay here, I’m going to change.”

[hellsoutcast]