Dark Angel

With one elusive movement, he approached me and lifted me into his arms, gently pressing me to him. I didn't resist. This was something new! No one had ever dared to grab me so unceremoniously before, much less hold me in his arms. I felt the muscles in his back tense slightly, and with a soft flap, his huge, powerful wings lifted us into the air. A warm wind caressed my skin, and the sky grew closer with each passing moment. I held my breath, captivated, pressing myself closer to his chest. I was overwhelmed with ecstasy! From the flight, from the proximity of the night sky and the stars, from the realization that my dream had finally come true. I don't know if I'm sleeping. It doesn't matter at all. Everything that happens is indescribable, irrational, to some extent absurd, and therefore... And therefore it is only mine, only my imagination could give birth to something... like this. Streets, lanterns, flashing lights on deserted roads, cats creeping along rooftops and many other things that are typical of night cities floated by below us. But then... Everything has changed. He takes me somewhere and I see... Angels, consumed by filth, who sing lullabies for the spawn of darkness. A girl holding the hand of her dead reflection. Shadows that have lost their corporeal shells. Pain. Sadness. The ugly beauty of this world. I feel it all filling me, like poisoned air entering my lungs, like black petals touching my skin. I smile. “Oh my God...” I whisper, almost inaudibly. “How... this is wonderful.” He turns his face towards me. Silent. For the first time - not knowing what to answer. For the first time I'm so confused. He didn't expect this, I suppose he couldn't even think about the current. I laugh. Quietly, with delight, like a child who has found a forgotten hiding place with treasures. “Do you like it?” he finally asks. “This...” I press myself closer to him, almost whispering into his neck, “...is the best hallucination of my life.”

• This is not an illusion.
• So much the better. So I really am crazy. He lifts us higher and higher. Then down. Abruptly. Like a powerful gust of wind that carried us along with it.

Like a whirlwind of fog, cold and smelling of death. I didn't close my eyes. What if I fall? - I suddenly blurt out. You will crash. Interesting. I've long wanted to know what this is like. And I slip out of his hands with a laugh and approach the ground at breakneck speed. He dives almost perpendicular to the ground and at the last moment he catches me. I laugh loudly. Ringingly. And I feel his smile. "Do you like playing on the edge?" he asks, looking me intently in the eyes. This is not a game. This is who I am. Looking at me, the angel said in a strange voice: Then you are not lost in the night. You are her child. There was a hint of... What? I can't understand.

I'm in heaven. In a broken, rotting, forgotten paradise. We flew for a long time along the dark underside of this world, until the majestic bulk of a forgotten castle appeared. We landed on the ground almost at the very gates of the abandoned castle. I approach its blackened bulk, shrouded in myriads of vines. The dark angel walked slightly behind me. His steps made no sound, as if he himself were an echo of the memory of ancient times. I touch the rough door, and my heart either stops or starts pounding with a wild, almost ecstatic feeling of happiness. Is it open? He nods. Just for you. The rest would go crazy if they even touched her. Great. That means I'm... home. We simultaneously approached the enormous gates. I touched them. The stone under my hand was rough and icy. But there was no sense of threat in this cold. The door itself swings open in front of me, creaking as if it were alive. Inside, there was absolute silence. Then the crunch of broken glass became audible underfoot; everywhere there was only dust and darkness, broken by the moonlight filtering through the broken stained-glass windows. The vaults grew into the night sky. The blood of time has been deliberately ingrained into the stone. This place literally vibrates with the memories sealed within it. But I feel comfortable. Here, in the crumbling halls, in the moss and dust, I feel better than in my own bed. Here everything is either dead or appears in its true form.