| From: | Kristling Ravenwing <kristling@*******.CROSSWINDS.NET> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Blood the Colour of Feathers, Feathers the colour of blood <V> |
| Date: | Sat, 25 Apr 1998 21:06:03 -0400 |
>>>>>[I'm a little freaked, but something happened to me that I think you
should know about.
+++++begin KristVid1.vid
An alley in one of Seattle's not so nice barios, just as the sun sets. A
brief caption along the bottom reads, "My view." Whoever's skull the
cybereyes are in, he's whistling. He's heading toward the main street, which
is moderately busy. It's quiet, for Seattle. The sprawl is rather like a
tired runner right no- it's steal blood, slowing (but never quiet stoppin)
the rhythm, leveling out.
"Mr. Ravenwing?" says a voice.
The POV rapidly turns around.
Standing before Kristling is a normal, upperclass dressed man. His eyes are
deranged, despite the almost obsesve order of the rest of his attire. He
holds a predator in each hand.
"See the light, Mr. Ravenwing."
"DREK!"
Even as Kristling tosses his arms up, even as his pulse increases as he
attempts a casting, even as he screams the Yeddish word that, for some
inexplicable reason, has replaced shit in 59 years, he sees the gun spit
fire and lead, feels the bullet hit him in the chest, feels the second hit
his arm.
He blacks out.
How much time has pasted is unclear, but it is night now. The alley is lit by
the light whatever stores or companies have entances to the alley use when
night delieveries are made.
Standing over Krist is a young woman, surely no more then 20 years old, and
human. Of Asian decent, she keeps sliping in and out of focus. Her mouth is a
slight, beautiful liltte line, as if craved by some divine sculture. Her nose
is as finely made. She seems to be cradling his head in her lap, and she is
deep in concentration. She has a slight nose bleed.
"Wha...?"
She slowly looks at him and smiles. Such beautiful green eyes, green then
you'd think possble.
"Shh, Raven's Son. Still. I have healed you, but you've lost much life blood.
Sleep now."
She touches his eyes gently and they close.
***** end vid file
I woke up later in my Auburn digs in bed. I have scars where the bullets
were. I'm still weak, but, I'll try to drag my but to Haven so we can talk,
cause this means two things:
1. Abbandon knows I'm looking for him, or his pycho partners do. They may
know I asked you to help; careful out there, guys.
2. Someone's decided I need help. I never saw that girl before. Except... in
a dream.
I'll explain later.
Heh. Maybe I'm an angel's angel.]<<<<<
--Kristling (the Weird) Ravenwing <A Strange 18:05:34 PST/Type
04-25-59>
