Heroes of a New Age

Where I Think I Meet an Angel

I cried in that alleyway for what felt like hours, hugging my backpack to my chest, too afraid to move even to open it, until finally, the sun went down and my tears were all used up.
I stood up slowly, drying my face with my sleeve. There wasn't any sign of anyone around, not monsters or humans. I peaked out of the end of the alleyway, but I didn't see or hear anybody. There weren't even any cars passing by. 

A shadow dropped down and landed on the dumpster across from me, chirruping softly, and I jumped at the sudden motion. Then I froze again when I realized it wasnt a crow or a pigeon. It was a tiny owl. It chirped at me again, a high meow-like sound, like a cat or a squeaky toy. 

I stared at the tiny bird, and it stared back, its eyes reflecting the streetlights, gleaming orange. I'd never seen an owl up close before. It looked so soft. 

Hesitantly, I reached out for it, some instinct driving me, or maybe just that I wanted to be some Disney Princess, where animals were nice to lost little girls, but as I got closer it hopped away, just out of reach. 

I stepped forward and it hopped again, still looking at me. 

Dejected, I could feel the tears starting again, pricking the backs of my eyes and leaking out the corners, but I cleared my throat, adjusted my jacket and swallowed them with determination. The owl sounded its strange mewing call again, and I took a deep breath and ran toward it. 

It seemed to want me to follow it, though it continued to stay just ahead of me. It never flew too far ahead, and was never out of sight for long, always pausing at corners until I was able to catch up, then flying down alleyways, leading me through the streets. My sneakers pounded on the pavement until I was almost out of breath, but I had to keep going. It yelled at me if I stopped for too long.

It got darker and darker as the twilight of early evening turned to night, and the sky turned the usual pinky-orange-purple of light pollution, but somehow I could still see the owl clearly ahead of me. Its feathers glimmered softly, and it cast its own faint light on the walls around us.
We rounded one more corner, and I was suddenly back on a populated street. Cars chugged along in the regular traffic and people crowded the sidewalks. Tourists in jeans and graphic tees. Men and women in business suits flagging down cabs.

In an alleyway just off the street, just along the nearest building from the alley I'd come out of, a homeless man sat with a sign that read "Veteran, need food for dog."

Sure enough, an old dog was lying beside him, head on his lap. I reached into my pocket, stepping closer. I didn't have much, of course. My pockets were empty, besides a few scraps of paper, an old peppermint from Mrs. Taylor that was probably left from Christmas. But I did have a gold dollar I'd found in the sandbox once. At least, I thought it was a gold dollar. I'd kept it, it always felt lucky.

I bent down to place it in his hat, where a few scrappy dollar bills and some coins had already been put, but the man's hand reached out and grabbed my wrist, and I jerked back. His fingers were boney, but very strong, and I couldn't pull free.

"Hey! Let go!" I yelped, but he didn't move. I looked at his face properly, and barely managed not to scream. His eyes were just holes in his skull, like a zombie's. His skin was tight across his cheekbones, his face looked like a skull.

"Let her go, old friend," another voice sounded, one that made my skull tingle, and I turned to see the owl I'd been following, sitting on the shoulder of a woman. She wore a simple business suit in a subtle color, either grey or blue, I couldn't tell in the dim light. She was tall and very beautiful. She reminded me of the statues in front of old churches, or maybe the people in the stained glass windows. I almost expected her to have wings sprouting from her shoulders, but she didn't. Or... maybe she did. They cast a shadow on the wall behind her. Her eyes reflected the streetlights the same way the owl's did.

The homeless man-zombie-thing released me, and I staggered back, watching in horror as he and his dog crumbled into dust before my eyes.

"You're a brave girl," the woman said, looking down at me. "The usual illusions don't work on you."

I meant to ask 'what do you mean?' or 'who the heck are you?' or even 'what's happening?' but what came out instead was: "Are you an angel?"

The woman laughed, the sound was gentle, but her voice still made my teeth rattle. I stood my ground, rubbing my wrist where the zombie had grabbed it.

"What was that thing?"

"A deal with my brother. I needed a test, and illusions don't work on you it seems. I needed something more concrete."

"But— what—" I was shaking like a leaf. Had he just... *died?* I took a step back, away from the beautiful lady.

"I don't understand why you've chosen this child." I couldn't figure out where the voice was coming from at first, then I realized it was the owl speaking with a high, somewhat nasally voice. "What's so special about her when you've got children of your own?"

"You can't see it, dear friend? Something familiar." The woman bent over me, her hands on her knees, staring at me with those strange mirrored eyes. "Perhaps it is too soon to tell. Keep fighting, young one."

I blinked, and the lady was gone. It was just me and the owl, who hopped closer, looking me in the eyes. I looked back, hoping for answers, but the owl simply shook its head as if cleaning its feathers.

"I don't see it," it muttered. "But we'll be keeping an eye on you, kid." It spread its wings and flew off in a more normal mode of travel, leaving me alone in an alleyway... again.