Earth Angel

Part 1

Mark sat on his couch trying to ignore the fact he was another year older.  He just went about his day like normal.  Uploading his two videos to youtube and then relaxing on his couch with Chica.  Together they were watching a movie, when someone began to knock loudly on his front door.  Chica jerked awake, launched off his balls as she made a dash for the door.  Mark groaned loudly, cupping his crotch.  The knocks got even louder and more aggressive.  So, Mark slowly slid off the couch, snapping back a bit strained.  "I'M COMING, DAMNIT"!  Taking a shaky breath, Mark staggered his way to the door.  Opening it just an inch or two, he sighed a bit regrettably.  Wade pushed open the door, his hands loaded down with snacks as he playfully asked Mark.  "You were cumming? Was that why you couldn't answer the door? Should we come back later"?  Mark swatted Wade's shoulder as he passed and Bob entered in shortly after.  Bob looked him over briefly before asking a bit concerned.  "Mark? You alright? Why are you holding yourself"?  Mark forced himself to straighten up as he pointed to an excited Chica, growling out.  "She used them as a springboard". 

Wade chuckled from the kitchen and Bob held up a few cases of beer happily saying.  "Well, we brought spirits to cheer you up".  Mark smirked back, replying a little less strained.  "You guys shouldn't have".  Wade waved a dismissive hand at him, casually stating.  "You didn't think we had forgotten did you? Come on! I just picked up the new grand theft auto game. We're going to have fun".  Bob closed the door and sarcastically shot out to Mark in an undertone.  "Because nothing says fun like drinking and virtually driving".  Mark shared a laugh with Bob and they settled in on the couch.  As the hours passed of passing the remote around and getting more hammered with every bottle.  Mark began to get a sharp headache.  It was mild at first, but soon made him light-headed.  Sliding off the couch, Mark told Bob weakly.  "Hey, I think I drank too much. I'm going to lay down for a bit. Thanks for coming over. It was great to see you guys after so long".  Bob took Mark's arm, telling him happily.  "Hey no problem, man. We couldn't let you spend your birthday alone. Happy Birthday, Man. We'll try to keep it down".  Wade passed the remote to Bob, shouting over the couch as Mark left.  "Happy Birthday, buddy"!

Mark simply waved back and entered into his room with Chica.  His head was throbbing so bad and his chest was starting to really hurt.  Sliding on over the bed, Mark fumbled with the side table to pull out a bottle of aspirin.  He just needed to sleep this off.  Next to the bed, Chica laid her head on the edge and began to whine softly.  He lazily reached over and stroked her head, before his body fell numb.  Mark jerked awake a few hours later to Chica's nervous barking.  A vicious rain storm was warring outside.  Harsh winds sent rain crashing against the windows and thunder rumbled through the sky.  Mark checked his clock.  It was three am.  Patting his hand on the bed, he softly told Chica to come up and join him.  She was scared of storms like most dogs, but laying with him would at least keep her from barking.  He didn't want her to wake up Bob and Wade.  He was just about to doze off again, stroking Chica's warm fur, when there was a loud 'BANG' against his roof.  Chica sat up to look up at the ceiling growling loudly.

Mark sat up just as there was a loud metal bang in his backyard, followed by a loud 'SPLASH'!  Chica whined loudly as Mark climbed off the bed.  He was pretty sure that his satellite dish just fell off the roof... but what the hell had fallen into his pool?  Exiting his room, Mark grabbed a baseball bat out of one of his closets and headed toward the sliding glass door.  Bob and Wade weren't in the living room and everything was off.  So, they weren't goofing around drunk by the pool.  Flicking on the back lights, Mark tried to see through the watery window.  Something white was in his pool.  Opening up the back door, Mark crept out cautiously to get a better look.  Chica started to follow, only to whine and retreat back into the house.  What had her so spooked?  Sure, the storm was pretty bad, but even she would follow him out into one.  As he crept toward the pool, Mark gasped.  There was a person floating face down in his pool.  Dropping his bat, Mark jumped into the pool. 

Grabbing hold of the man, Mark tried to turn him over to get his head out, but he was heavy for a skinny guy.  Mark spotted the white pile of feathers floating over the man and tried to push them away.  They drifted back along the water and Mark blinked in confusion.  Was the ran playing tricks on him, or were these things attached to the man?  Mark took hold of the man and carefully carried him out of the pool.  Mark's arms strained from the effort.  The man was pretty light, but the wings... those wet wings were so heavy!  Trying not to step on the wings as he brought the man into the house.  Mark laid him out across the floor, placing a hand to his throat.  A heart beat.  He was alive.  Mark looked up to see Chica creeping closer to risk a sniff of the man's wing.  With a snort, she whined and dashed off behind the couch.  Mark frowned at her, saying curiously.  "What are you scared of? These are fake. Look, I'll show you".  Mark rolled the man onto his side to expose a wing.  Running his hands along the man's bare slender back trying to find the strap, or the rigging. 

Instead, he felt a genuine bone structure there.  The wings met flawlessly to the man's back.  A bit stunned, Mark climbed to his feet to flick on the lights to get a better look.  Mark checked them over again, before turning to see Chica peeking out from behind the couch as he told her in disbelief.  "If these are fake, they look pretty damn real".  Chica whined again, slipping out of sight.  Mark looked over the man expecting to find some form of I.D. on him, but his white toga didn't have pockets.  Mark glanced around a moment unsure what to do.  Eventually, he decided to carry the man to his room.  He had to get him off the floor.  Laying him out carefully across his bed, Mark glanced at the phone on his side table.  Should he call the police?  Or should he call animal control?  Mark reached for the phone to call the hospital, when the man's hand grabbed his wrist tightly.  Mark flinched, turning to look at him.  Mark's breath caught in his throat as he locked eyes with a pair of crystal clear blue ones.  To Be Continued...