Doorways

I make my decision. I loosen my grip on the boy's throat.

Just as I do this, the bottom falls out...Literally.

Several portals shimmer into being all around us; I can see myself, in various different realities, as though peering through a distorted mirror. It's unnerving.

I'm not doing this. Can it be him? Tony? How the hell is he doing this?

Another portal opens it's mouth beneath us, & before I have time to think, we're falling through.

I shift forms, into that of a large hawk, & dig my talons into the boy's shoulders, in effort to ease us through the gap...I don't want to lose him.

Tony lets out a yelp, but still I hold tightly. I flap my wings frantically, trying to cushion the fall. But still we plummet.

I feel like I'm watching different realities, different "whens", flashing before me. I see myself, as I may have been had I been merely human. My human form sits in an office, punching keys, with lifeless grey eyes.

But we're still falling--& she's gone.

I see Tony....He's wearing a crown of sorts, fashioned from bent, twisted scrap metal. He sits upon a throne of discarded junk...creatures of all sorts kneeling at his feet. Gabriel is among them...The albino gargoyle has never bent his knee to anyone....but there he is, face in the dirt with all the others, swearing fealty to the boy...this King of the Broken Things?...

Still falling...Gone.

Justin has gathered the Winged Ones...They fly in formation, as though preparing for battle. Most of them grip reflective daggers...no, shards of mirrors? They grip broken mirrors in hands & talons...They fly with such ferocity...

I want to join them....but blink--& they're gone.

I see the Red Gates, & a figure chained across them. Look a little closer, & I see that the figure is me. My arms are outstretched...Why can't I shift? Why can't I shake them loose...I squint to catch a closer look...silver. Chains fashioned of pure silver encircle my wrists & ankles...They stretch me taught across the iron gates....My back is bare...blood running down in streaks...not healing...

The Bandaged Man approaches me, a whip with a silver tipped end grasped loosely at his side...

Gone.

The ground doesn't fall away this time. I release Tony as gently as possible; he hits the ground in a cloud of dust. I shift to human form, & land lightly on my feet.

The air is acrid...I smell something burning, just 'round the bend. Flickering orange light, dancing like fireflies...

Tony sits in the dirt, gasping. I haul him to his feet, slamming him against a tree.

-"What the fuck is going on with you?!" I shriek at him.

-"Get him out!" He's screaming at me. "Get him out--get him out of me! Please!"

Tears stream down his face, & his eyes go black again. Black chasms of death...His voice is gravelly once more.

-"Mine." & his hands wrap 'round my throat this time. Squeezing. The air is tight. Adrenaline races through my veins...it's overpowing. I heave the boy forward, slamming him with inhuman force against the tree trunk. He connects with a painful cracking sound. He crumples at the base of the massive tree.

I run to him, straddling him, & slam his head against the ground. His eyes are empty...out like lights.

Good--buys me a few minutes. I pull a silver blade from a sheath in my boot, careful of the edge. Silver has much power here.

I take Tony's left hand in mine, & dig in with the blade. I make fast work carving the rune of protection..."algiz". It resembles the english letter "Y"...with the middle extended. All the while I'm muttering--"I cast you out. I cast you out. He's mine--I cast you out." He never flinches; he never moves. His eyes remain empty.

I put the blade to the boy's right palm, & hastily carve the symbol once again.

I then run the sharp edge along my own palm, blood welling up...angry & red. Fierce.

Using my own blood, I paint the protective rune across Tony's forehead.

-"I cast you out. This boy is mine--& he's under my protection."

The light behind Tony's eyes returns--he throws his head back in a scream....

A guttural, primal scream. Feral.

He has an inner glow, as though he himself, is burning. The boy begins to blur around the edges, as though it's taking everything within him to hold himself together. He might just...fly apart...like burnt paper. Nothing left but ashes.

But he's strong. This boy is a survivor.

A raspy scream seems to twine with his...two voices. A blackness crawls from his throat...building & twisting...a writhing, living darkness pouring from within. It swirls around him, his own private funnel cloud...thrashing & fighting...before finally dissipating...

The boy can barely stand, his eyes are so weary. He looks at the jagged symbols carved into his ragged hands.

-"I belong to you now. Thank you."

He falls backwards....& I catch him.