The ringing in his ears was getting louder; almost to the point where he couldn't hear the cars lumbering along in the slush covered streets beside him. He still hadn't figured out why it would get this loud, or if anything was causing it at all.
The streets were pretty much devoid of life at this hour of night. Throw in the fact that the area hadn't seen snow this early in the season for years, and it had for the makings of a very good night. Aranel was alone with his thoughts.
He had just come from the diner where Meg had helped him through his normal three cups of coffee. It was Monday, so he had treated himself to an apple pastry thingy. "Apple goo wrapped in biscuit dough" is how Meg described them. However you say it, he had become addicted to the things over the past five years. Come to think of it, he had probably become addicted to Meg over the same time as well.
Suddenly, the pain hit. Lancing from between his eyes to the back of his head, while simultaneously trying to exit his head by busting open his ear drums from the inside, he was barely able to keep to his feet as he doubled over holding his ears. He bit back a scream, and forced himself to look around.
He had to be here. Somewhere close; nearby. Through half-closed eyes, squinted with pain, he caught movement to his left. And then a light went out. A muffled "pop" and a street light went dark, the light slowly fading to nothing as the power left it.
At the base of the lamp a figure stood, seemingly not to notice the change in his immediate surroundings. Its eyes were focused directly on Aranel.
Aranel forced himself to stand fully upright. The pain had subsided a little, and the ringing had become a rushing. It reminded him of the wind ripping through the trees during storm season that would always frighten him as a child.
*Pop*
Another light went out. This one closer to Aranel, but still on the other side of the street with the stranger.
Calmly taking in its surroundings both up and down the street, the figure casually began to walk away from the light post. Its long, dark wool pea coat moving as if by the wind that only Aranel could hear.
Aranel still couldn't make out any distinguishing features about the figure. The collar of the coat pulled high around its neck, the navy blue scarf wrapped around its neck, and dark baseball cap pulled low all served to hide the figures features. Judging by the smoothness of its motions, Aranel took it to be a she, or if not that, then a small framed male with a history of fighting. One of those Eastern types that he didn't fully understand, yet.
As he straightened up fully, the rushing in his ears lessened. It was still there. Distracting him. Keeping him from concentrating, almost like static from a radio turned up too loud.
*Pop*
This time it was the light that Aranel had clutched to for support that went dark. He thought he had noticed it before, but this time, with it so close, Aranel definitely thought he smelled rotting eggs. There was no breeze that could have been carrying the odor from a nearby alley. For that matter, there was no breeze to be moving the figure's coat the way it was.
It was almost to Aranel now. Moving with cat-like grace across the empty street. Still disoriented, Aranel shook his head to try to clear it. Closer still it came, and it had raised its head so that Aranel could see its eyes now. Eyes that seemed to catch the light from the remaining working lamps further down the street. Pulling the light to them, making them seem to almost glow.
Aranel recognized those eyes, with their flecks of golden brown surrounded by green. Eyes that would have glowed if only it had been a little darker. He struggled to move from the support of the lamp.
Move one foot. Then move the other. He needed to get away. He turned back toward the diner with its warm light spilling onto the sidewalk, taking a risk by putting his back to the thing.
Before he could do anything, the figure brushed by him, jostling Aranel's shoulder as it passed by. "Evening officer," it said in a low, sultry voice. A voice that surprised Aranel, almost as much as being called officer, a title he'd not worn for years upon years now.
He turned his head to look at it, but it had continued walking past Aranel, moving further down the street. It was heading toward the diner. Aranel's solace. His safe place. And fear spurred him to move faster to catch the stranger.
*Pop*
Again, another light ceased to illuminate the night. This time, however, the casing exploded, and showered shards of broken glass down on Aranel. Cursing, he ducked his head and shielded his eyes. As he did so, the rushing in his ears stopped. Silence for a minute, deafening in its fullness, then the soft swoosh of what sounded to be wings.
He looked up toward the diner. It was gone. Quickly scanning the street for it, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, up above him.
Questioning everything he thought he knew, Aranel swore he saw the figure high above the street lamps, the dark wool pea coat stretched out longer than it should have been. Spread wider than it should have been, moving again, but this time against whatever breeze may have moved it earlier. Aranel swore he saw wings.
~ ~ ~
