Tuesday, August 6, 2013

The Weeping of an Angel

She looked at him from behind her covered eyes. The slits between her fingers allowed just enough freedom to peer at his handsome features. His name, that she had overheard someone call, whispered in her mind. Vincent Williams. She could not move. Her body was stone cold, frozen in place, for she was a weeping angel.

Weeping angels are an ancient race of aliens. Their bodies have the ultimate defense mechanism. They turn to stone when someone looks at them, which makes them difficult to harm. But then, their defense is also a weakness. They cannot move.

He turned his head, his bright blue eyes roving over her. Inside, she felt her stone heart twitch. He was movie star handsome. His dark hair was wavy, curling slightly in the front, and his eyes were brilliant. He had a chiseled jaw, strong cheekbones. He was young. But more than that, she had watched him act. He was carefree, whistling about as he walked. She had even observed him help various people as he took his afternoon walk around the park. There was the old lady with the bags of groceries, the young children who had lost their ball, and the street vendor that needed help before the wind blew away his newspapers. She could sense his heart, bursting with kindness and energy.

Weeping angels feed off the life energy of humans. With one touch, they can zap a human back in time and steal the energy he or she would have lived. It is their food source. If they do not steal energy from humans, they starve. A single touch means life or death.

As he turned away, she felt her body unfreeze. She lowered her hands, rubbing the fabric of her gray dress between her fingers. How she wished she could wear something more enriching and less bland in color and style. She stood in place a moment longer, letting her eyes linger on his strong back. He walked briskly with strong steps. She shivered, Goosebumps rising on her skin. She took a step forward, her body jerking into hyper speed.

Weeping angels are fast, faster than a blink of the eye. In one moment, they can be still and silent. In the next, they can be breathing down your neck, ready to pounce with fingers extended and a contorted face staring back.

She stayed a step behind him, her feet quiet. He whistled a tune. Her heart surged. Every day was the same, in and out. He would come to the park to eat his lunch and take a stroll among the trees. He would gaze at the fountains or the flowers with a breathtaking look in his eyes but never her. His eyes would only flit past her still form. Every day she would follow him down street after street until she felt the eyes of a living being on her. Until her joints were freed up, she had to wait, watching him walk away until she no longer saw his form. She would return to the park and await the next day.

Weeping angels cover their eyes with their hands when frozen so they are not caught looking at another weeping angel. If two weeping angels were caught looking at each other, they would be stuck there until another outside force moved them. It is why they are considered “weeping” because the angel statues look as if they are crying into their hands.

He stopped suddenly on the edge of the sidewalk. He barely missed being hit by a speeding car. He stepped back, his head glancing back over his shoulder. She froze as his eyes scanned over her. He frowned and glanced around, but his eyes returned to her. She did not move. She stared straight ahead. She could feel her lips had formed into a smile. He peered closer to her, his blue eyes near her face, his lips inches away from hers. She could see her own reflection in his pupils. Inside, her heart groaned. This is what she wanted but could never have. He stepped back and waved his hand in front of her face. She did not move, though inside her mind screamed for freedom.

Weeping angels are the only alien race to kill nicely. Since they only send someone back in time, that person can live the rest of his or her life in peace. The person is usually left uninjured.

He, then, did the unimaginable. He reached out and touched her face. In a moment, her whole world exploded into light and color. She felt his warm touch, her heart fluttering. His fingers softly brushed her cheeks. This was the moment she had waited for. Then, her world exploded into horror. He dissolved before her eyes, whisked away into another time. She tried to cry out, to warn him no, but she could not move. She could only watch as he was sent back in time by her touch as she gained more life energy. Life energy she did not want.

Although it is often difficult for Weeping Angels to socialize due to their defenses’ nature, they can communicate and work with each other to trap victims. However, they are still considered the loneliest beings in the universe.

She stared in horror, her body free from stone, at the last place his face had appeared. Tears slid down her cheeks. She reached her hand up and looked at the wetness of her fingers. She had never truly cried before. She began to walk, her fast movements taking her across the city. She stood behind a gate, looking around at yards of gravestones and mausoleums. She walked among the graves, more tears falling from her eyes. She hid her eyes behind her hands and stopped when she saw a familiar name etched on a grave. Vincent Williams. She fell to the ground, draping her body over the grave. And there, she stayed, weeping.

-Jaguar Hero!

Glory to God


  1. This is awesome Jaime!! For reals. :)

  2. Thank you. :) And thanks for reading.