I know I haven't submitted any stories for some time, but this is one that came to mind. I have plenty of stories in the making, but it seems that many of them won't Finnish... for some time anyway. Oh yes, before I forget....
All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of Era Scarecrow
Warning!: This story has some Violence, it may be inappropriate for children YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!
Ok, this story has no actual line or plot for my stories... Yet.. If it fits in later on we shall see. But for now, sit back, and enjoy the story. --- Deathwatch
In the silent night, quiet, and calm, nothing seemed to happen. The alleys were empty, the streets quiet for a change, but in a little while it would be covered in cars again. A gust a wind, like a soft breath came across, disturbing the silence, making a movement from the death like area. Death, that is what this was like, without life, without meaning... Just there. Hardly a meaning for it, not that it mattered. But if anyone looked up at that moment, they would have spotted something in the sky, as it passed by the full moon. Something, with wings, and a need to protect.
He watched the sky, seeing the winged species, that many feared for no reason. 'Only take action if it directly threatens you' is what was echoed in his mind, reminding him coyotes. He questioned everything, yet no answer came from the night. He sighed quietly, and got up, and began walking again, his mission never done. He called himself 'Deathwatch' because of what he could do, and he did it to everyone... Everyone who threatened him anyway, and their actions started what he inherited, that is simply the way things were... For a child of oberon.
He smiled, and took off his hat, revealing his face, ears, and hair. His face gave a sense of timeless-ness, and his ears imagination, and his hair... the streams of time. He shook his hair out, black as night they be to the soft wind that started, flowing over his coat. His clothes seemed to move with the wind, wanting to travel in that direction, towards the next hill, the next mountain, the next place the wind stopped at.
He started walking down the street, his heels clicking as he did so, giving the silent night something to think about, some character from the void of life, from the boring stale state. And in an instance he was pulled back, and pushed against a wall, a gun to his head as the punk teenager stared at him fearlessly.. But unknowingly..
"Al'right. Drop your valuables or I'll drop some led in your head" the punk said. Deathwatch almost started laughing, at the situation, statement, and the punk's hair. It was colored green, and spiked out. But holding back his laugh, he smiled, and stared into the punk's eyes.
"Go ahead.. I dare you" deathwatch said, his eyes shining with power. He could feel the magical energies flowing through him, could see it in the air, invisible it was, it clear as the clouds in the sky, as flowers in the grass, and as clear as a rock on the sand. The power flowing through him, channeling into his soul, into his being, being a part of him, the power climaxing in a full strength that was timeless, but was only a few seconds long.
The punk by this time had become angry, just how he wanted it. The stronger the anger and hate, the better his magic worked. His whole purpose of being into existence was coming again, and he had done this thousands of times before, and thousands of times to come. He ate their hate, their anger, but was never consumed by it. In a sound of thunder, and gun went off, and a bullet went right in-between the eyes of deathwatch, and blood started oozing from the un-natural opening in his head. Time stopped it seemed, and the magic stopped coursing through his body, as he slumped to the ground lifeless, like a doll. - He looked at the man he just shot, slumped and dead, lifeless. Suddenly something surged in him, something he never felt before, but started consuming him. Fear, and Guilt. He looked at the gun in his hand, and dropped it. As the gun hit the ground, it fired, and hid the wall right behind the him. He jumped at the sound of the gun, and the bricks behind him as they broke at the impact of the bullet.
His face turned white, as he suddenly understood the full and total shock of his actions, he took a life. Life can't be bought, it can't be sold, it can't be replaced. Every life is precious, and everyone deserves a chance to live. He could smell the blood, smell death.. No, Deaths, Deaths of all the lives he took, all the people he killed, all the people that won't live because of him.
Out of these new feelings, the blood in his face and hands drained, and he ran from the scene, starting to hyperventilate. - After a few minutes, he shook his head a few times clearing them of the cobwebs the punk gave him, and he got up, and rubbed the blood from his forehead. "Great shot moron" he mumbled, and picked up the gun. After a moment the gun changed into ashes, and the scene returned to how it looked before the encounter with the punk. He sighed and walked away. "So young, so much possibility for that boy" he whispered, and continued down the street, his heels clicking in the silence. And of all the things he could have done at the next moment, he put the hat back on his head. -- An hour later.. At the Eyrie Building..
The officer at the front desk sat there, watching for any and all visitors, and any and all employees exiting and entering the building. His job was boring at times, but it paid well. He was reading a book to spend his time out. In one of his ears he had a small transmitter, which it's purpose was simple. It beeped whenever someone passed into or out of the elevator door, and whenever the front doors opened. These are the thing he had to watch for, and take care of.
He set the book down, and stared out the glass doors that led outside, and watched the sidewalk turn a deeper color of gray and black as the rain touched the ground. The raining had started a few moments ago, and it was more entertaining then the book he was reading. After a few minutes, a man in a trench coat entered, and his transmitter in his ear beeped once. Shrugging he stood up to greet the visitor, and ask his business, as it was far more entertaining then staring out the door at the rain, or reading that book.
When the man reached the desk, he queried him, and when he looked straight into his eyes, the officer shivered. - He looked into the guard's eyes, and read through his mind, searching for the main reason his visit here. He was junking all information and names that didn't concern him, and he noticed the guard shivered. 'Let's get this over with' he thought. 'Johnson.. no.. Moredain.. no.. Chameleon.. no.. Smith.. no.. Where are you, you bastard...' Deathwatch asked mentally, scanning his mind. He knew what he was searching for. He felt the presence a few times before, he sensed a fae.
Still searching, he came to one that didn't sound real. 'Burnet.. Burnet..' the name sounded phony, so he decided to try it out. He broke the eye contact and the guard resumed procedures, not noticing the elapsed time.
"What's your business here?" The guard said, he didn't sound thrilled.. more like bored out of his mind... 'out of his mind... That sounds funny' Deathwatch chucked at the though. 'How exact that really is'
"Burnet, I'd like to speak with Burnet" Deathwatch said, as he looked around the interior of the building. 'These mortals have accomplished much since I looked last'. He listened, and heard the guard call up for Burnet to come down. And after a few minutes, he did finally show.
"I don't know who you are or what you are doing here, but.." Burnet was saying when deathwatch turned, and looked into his eyes. Burnet froze, probably seeing him for what he really was. He lifted his hand up, and said "I'm Thatch". Burnet by this time had regained his composure, and shook his hand. "Greeting Mr. Thatch, How can I help you?"
Although Thatch wasn't really his name, it was part of his real name. It was a section of his name in fact, deaTHwATCH, and so it was easy to use, and remember, and made it easier to cover his tracks when he had to.
"Simply seeing a old friend of mine. Don't you recognize me?" Deathwatch smiled, and pulled out a business card, which said 'Lui's French Bakery' and and address. On the back of the card he put a date and time, he wanted to talk with Burnet when he could.. Alone.. After giving the card to Burnet, he turned and walked out of the door.
"Who the hell was that?" He heard the guard say, and then heard Burnet's response. "I haven't the slightest idea.." He smiled as he walked a few blocks and disappeared in the shadows. -- The room was warm, and smelled great, smelling of freshly baked foods, a place where some came for food, others for company... And yet others, a chance to work in the large state of New York. But this occasion was different, was different at the bakery, the bakery that he had entered, and waited for the last couple minutes as the moments ticked to his meeting. After a moment, he pushed the frame with his index finger up so it touched and laid at the base of his nose. His other hand laying dead like to his side. Dead like, that was a close enough description for a stone fist.
He looked at his watch, and as the last seconds ticked away, a figure entered the room. A Figure in black with sunglasses on, and sat in the seat opposite of him. Owen just looked at him, searching for some clue to their meeting before, or something else, but nothing showed. This person was virtually a ghost. After a few minutes, the figure began to speak, breaking the eerie silence. "How goes it ol' chap?" The figure just smiled as he finished his phrase.
"You wanted to see me?" Owen asked in reply, remaining completely neutral in posture. "See you? Yes, I suppose so..." He looked at Owen a moment. "Now the 'seeing' part is over."
Owen sighed, and looked at him again. "Let me rephrase the question, what did you want?" The figure looked at him oddly and began laughing, and answered the question rather strangely.
"You've already completed what I wanted. I wanted to 'Look' at you." And the figure sat back, exhausted. "Well, I suppose you don't recognize me do you? Perhaps this will help" The figure lifted his sunglasses off, revealing his eyes, the eyes that were eerie, not any normal color, like a deep purple that you only noticed when they changed to deeper colors.
Owen looked into the eyes, and his memory clicked again. "Hello 'Thatch'" Owen replied. Thatch shrugged, and decided to play around, listening to his comments as he put his glasses on, and took them off over and over again. "Who are you?... What do you want Thatch?... Who are you?... Why are you doing that?... Who are you?... Would you cut that out?!?"
Thatch chuckled. One curse of his was no one remembered him or anything about him unless they were looking into his eyes. So every time he put the sunglasses back on he forgot, and when he took them off, he remembered. A little curse that the Three children of oberon had put on him, those were Luna, Selene, and Phobe. They did it because he was being a pest, although he could no longer play trick like he had done before, he loved doing things to mortals, and no one would remember either.
He set his sunglasses on the table, and looked at Burnet. "What do you remember?" Thatch asked him. --
Questions? Comments? I like feedback on my stories, both good and bad. (Preferably good) Any and all of this can be sent to email@example.com
Copyright * April Era Scarecrow * 1999