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I’m going to tell you a story so sit back and relax; it’s the story of my birth into the darkness of this world. My metaphorical fall from grace and my existence. Sit back and pay attention this could be the last thing you ever read, my name is Heimdalls, and I am an angel. Oh you laugh well I guessed you might. I turned to face the giggling person sitting in the darkness of my study, “ye of little faith”



I turned my back to her again and removed my jacket. Concentrating for a few moments I felt them unfurl from my back, sails of the finest black silk. Flexing to their full length, the smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, as I heard your gasp of shock and surprise. “Now I have your undivided attention let me begin”



“As you can see I’m not mad. I have been given a gift and cursed at the same time, I have been cast out, to walk upon the earth until my mission is complete and my master feels that I am ready to return” my wings flexed gently stretching after being hidden for longer than I could remember, I paced around the study. Breathing deeply smiling as I my eye caught upon some of the titles or mementos of my life.



She had removed a notepad from her bag, and had begun to furiously scribble notes, that smile tugged at my lips again, and I laughed. “You still think this is some kind of hallucination” I turned to face her, the shock written across her face, like the words clearly written in her notebook. “My dear, what do you think is happening? You think I am mad? And that I have somehow shared my madness, my wings! A figment of fancy? A drug induced trip?”

I found the direction for this (the first part i wrote back in April, so check back to catch up with the story so far...)

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The card at first seemed to be blank, a silver disc, glinting in the pale evening light. i rubbed my fingers over the surface feeling for words or some indent, Dropping it to the floor i stepped back and gasped. The words seemed to materialise from no where the spidery script, a deep red colour seeping from the surface of the card like blood from a wound. The first words had formed " History is written by the victors"



Those words sounded familiar, but i didnt know where i had heard those words before, but i was sure i had. Shrugging i looked back to the strange card, there was more text forming, and i watched mesmorized at it sprang forth from the card, and started to scitter and search its way across the floor. I stepped back suddenly fear pulsed through my veins for a moment then i saw some words that pushed it all from my mind "Stephen, we found you" reading these words i froze reading them again and again. A mistake some trick, it must have been.



"What the hell is going on" i spoke to the words, they began to change as if preparing to answer my question. I was so focused on the text before i had missed the stream of red that had been flowing towards me from under the bookcase and when it slid over my toes i felt a jolt of something pass through me. Looking down i saw it dissapear under my skin and felt it

rushing through my body.



I opened my mouth to scream, the pain was blinding and i collapsed to me knees, the scream i begged to escape my lips came out a quiet whimper, my head hit the cool laminate floor and darkness overtook me.



"Churchill" I woke with a start my cheek, stuck to the laminate floor. Peeling myself gently off the floor, I looked around no idea how long I had been unconscious. My eyes snapped to the silver card no spidery writing sprawled across the floor, just an address and a time displayed, nothing more. Pushing myself from the ground I ran a hand over my face, "Mate you've seriously lost it."



Padding through the house to the bathroom, I relieved myself wincing slightly as the dying light bulb flickered away. It reminded me of some cheesy horror film. Chuckling to myself I switched the tap on, the water coughed and complained for a few moments then started to run normally.



Splashing it across my face, I grabbed a towel and dragged it over my face opening my eyes and looking into the mirror. My scream from earlier found its release.



I closed my eyes, slapped myself, and reopened them. The shock drained any color from my face, so I now looked like a ghost with a blood red tattoo. I looked again. "OK what the hell is going on?!" the image that looked back at me was I that I was sure of, but the thing that really scared me was the thin spidery red tattoo, it reminded me of a tear drop, except there were three of them, and they were deep red.



"Ok so I saw this weird shit, passed out and woke up with a really good tattoo?! Erm yeah I need a drink" I laughed at the image in the mirror, smiling and took a deep breath, watching as the tattoo changed color from blood red to dark blue. "Hmm really cool trick but stay blue or stay red don’t do that shit again" I laughed into the mirror.



I was fighting desperately to maintain, my loosening grip on sanity. I ran upstairs changing into jeans and a shirt. I padded back down stairs, composing a text message to my friend. "Pint on bar 10 minutes, ass whuping at pool for free :)" sending the message I snapped the phone shut, grabbing my jacket and swinging it over my shoulders.



I always savor throwing that coat over my shoulders it’s a very well cut coat, I ordered off the internet a few months ago, before everything went mad. It flows down my back to my calves, a very plain black pattern, and simple, elegant lines. I tapped a cigarette from my packet and stepped into the night, reflecting back on what had happened "Cabin fever nothing more" I mumbled around the cigarette and lit it. A few moments of fear flashed through me "what if I was not going mad and I had a bloody teardrop flowing from my left eye?! How in gods name would I explain that one?!"



I locked the front door and headed off to the pub, the night air was cold and the wind caught the tails of my coat swirling them behind me, I smiled inwardly, "I love it when that happens" I thought to myself. Stepping into the shop I walked up the counter. The young girl behind the counter giggled slightly, looking into my eyes "Cool tat, ‘s a bit different. What you want?" I ordered my brand of smokes, payed her money and left.



Stepping outside the wind caught my coat again. I turned and walked towards the pub. Stepping through the doors, i always imagined the music stopping and the place going deathly silent, evil eyes being thrown from everyone in the place.



Looking around but it never happened. Wandering up to the quiet bar "Two pints jack" I spoke to the bar tender "Quiet tonight chief" I indicated the quiet bar, a few old alcoholics spotted around the bar, huddled into groups. Smoking and recalling old times.



"That it is lad, business been slowing of recent. Since that new all singing, dancing place, opened in town. Like the tattoo chin up." He laughed gently and stepped away, I rose my head, staring straight into the mirror. So I wasn’t going mad, two people had seen them now. I sighed and shook my head. "Thanks Jack" the pints were placed in front of me, and I fished in my pocket for some money. "Yer moneys no good here lad" jack winked and stepped away, to serve another customer.



I grabbed the pints and headed for the pool table, settling them on the ledge behind the well maintained pool table; wandering over to the jukebox, I selected the same three tunes as I always did. And turned to the table, inserted the two twenty pence pieces and pushed the tray right into the table. As ever it gave little resistance and I quickly heard the tickle as the balls moved through the interior of the table.



Pulling the triangle from the lamp, I lifted the fold of green cloth and flattened it out over the table. Placing the triangle on the cloth and racking up the balls. I Slide the triangle off the cloth, and returned the fold of cloth back into the table. Spinning the black and flicking the triangle, I spotted the white. Taking a deep drink of my pint and lighting a cigarette, I chalked the cue.



I didn’t have to wait long, with my back turned to the bar I stood watching the world pass by the window. The crisp evening air, filled with laughter. Parties of short skirted women, and well dressed men, streamed past. I heard him bantering with Jack; I smiled to my reflection in the window. Same Danny, I watched as he snuck across the bar towards me. Taking a few draws of my cigarette I waited till the last moment, spinning round I landed the base of the cue a few inches from his foot. “Your late buddy” I indicated the pint glass, bubbling gently on the worktop. “Help yourself to a smoke” I smiled broadly.



His thick Yorkshire accent cut through the air “How did you know?” he asked mock wounded “Mate I know you, you smoke more than I do and have less money, so your always gonna bum a smoke” I replied “Now lets get this whuping under way” he turned and grabbed a pool cue, taking a deep pull of his pint and swallowing it, he started to laugh “Mate what the fuck is that?” he said pointing at my face.



I rubbed my hand across my face, already knowing what he was pointing at. “What this” I stopped with my finger hovering a few inches above the drops, I still couldn’t bring myself to touch them feeling something bad would happen. “It’s a new tattoo bud, you like?” he seemed taken aback by this “Oh right erm well yeah its different, suits you.”



I stopped talking and focused my attention to the game at hand; the conversation as ever was light hearted and nothing deep. We chatted about life, setting the world to rights. I neglected to mention the madness I had felt earlier but I told him about losing my job. I was undecided about what to do and as the drink flowed and the games continued. I forgot about all the madness I had felt, and I forgot all about the card and its message. The night passed quickly, checking the time it rolled on 11:45pm. The shrill ringing of the bell behind the bar, cut through the quiet pub. “Last orders everyone” Jack announced, a few of the older people, collected there jackets and left some ordered another pint. We played on.



The games had gone quickly and the score was 4 games to 3, Danny frowned, downing a pint and announced “Tenner says I win the next game” I laughed heartily, slapping a tenner onto the table. “Bet, lets get it on.” The game was one of deep concentration, every shot analyzed and thought about, “that ball where will white end up” I started with a 4 ball run, missed the 5th. Danny started with a 5 ball run, my heart sank slightly.



He had a chance to win, I watched as he lined up his 6th and missed, but he had the pocket covered, so it ended up a decent shot. The sweat was seeping from my brow, and it was evident the amount of concentration I was putting into the game.



I stepped up spending a few moments planning the shots and played. Clearing the table, I smiled. Wiping a sweaty palm over my jeans, and extending it. “very well played mate, was a close game” the handshake was warm and friendly “Yeah good game bud, I really should learn never to put money infront of a Scotsman” he laughed. I grabbed the money from the table, and wandered over to the bar. Smiling I ordered tow more pints. This time Jack accepted my money.