chapters 6 and 7

Sitting on the edge of Monica’s bedroom, Andrew wiped her feverish brow for the third time and sighed heavily when he noticed that her temperature didn’t seem to have lowered not even a single degree. The blond angel wet the cloth and replaced it on her forehead; the coldness of the fabric causing her to open her eyes:

 “... I guess I’m not co-operating, am I?”, she asked, noticing all the worry on his handsome face. Nevertheless, he tried to smile:

 “I’m already used to this stubborn behaviour of yours, Miss Wings!”

 A tiny smile appeared on her tired face, and he kept on talking:

 “And for your information, I know exactly how to deal with this! Right now, I could tickle you until you start begging for mercy and finish with this fever once and for all!”

 The memory of his fingers touching her stomach caused her to let out a small giggle:

 “But you know what? I’m not gonna try this one now, ‘cause you cannot run much far in this house, and as I am a merciful angel, I like giving you a little advantage before I can catch you!”

 Relief filled his heart and his soul when he heard her giggling echoing in the bedroom and he smiled with contentment:

 “I’ll have to trace another strategy then. But I have an idea: why don’t you continue to sleep a little while I think about a new plan to send this fever away and make you feel better, huh?”

 “Having you here, right beside me is enough to make me feel better, Andrew.”, she replied, “Though I prefer it without the tickling part!...”

 “Alright then. I’ll try to control myself. But now would you sleep a little and save your energies for later?”

“Ok... Will you be on my side?”

 He ran his fingers through her hair and on her cheek:

 “Of course I will, Angel Girl. Although you snore a lot, I’ll stay with you...”

 “Oh! I don’t snore!”, she replied, giggling once more and almost drifting off to sleep.

 “Yes, you do! Even Joy knows that!”

 “Our wee Joy would recognise her daddy’s loud snore anywhere!”, a teasing tone in her low voice.

 “Look: I think you’d better start snoring at once, before I change my mind and start tickling you right now!”

 Still with a smile, which contrasted with her pale face, the Irish angel drifted off to sleep, but, before this, she could still whisper 3 loving words to her dearest friend:

 “I love you...”

 Andrew leaned forward to place a tender kiss on her cheek:

 “I love you too.”, he also whispered in her ear.

 Inside the same bedroom, but unseen to the two angels, Monique and Gregory observed the two heavenly creatures with an ironic look in their eyes:

 “Are you doing this to her?”, Gregory asked, not missing how ill Monica looked.

 “In a way, yes. It was lucky that she had a cold already. But the evilness in this house is very strong and she is...”, she stopped talking and sighed with some annoyance, “... how can I say that without feeling nauseous? She is the most ‘sensitive’ of the group.”

 Monique gave a few steps towards the bed:

 “It seems that all this evilness is not doing her much good...”

 “Well, ironically, I’d say that’s good! It’ll make our job here a lot easier!...”

 *

 Time went by slowly in on that appalling night, streaks of lightening covered the dark sky and the noise of the thunder echoed throughout the countryside, where the old mansion was located. The strong wind produced a sad melody, which penetrated inside the house and only increased Andrew’s anguish in being in a place like that.

 The blond angel was holding Monica’s hand in both of his and spent the last hour praying not only for her recovery but also for Tess and Adam, as the two angels were outside, exposed to all sorts of danger the thunderstorm could bring.

 Suddenly, his prayers were interrupted by a loud noise coming from downstairs. Andrew looked at the window, which trembled with the strong howling wind, and, tightening the hold on his friend’s hand, elected to continue praying. But, some minutes later, the noise was heard again, this time louder than before, and the blond angel frowned with concern:

 “But what is that?!...”, he wondered, in a low voice. At that moment, Monica stirred in the bed and whispered:

 “...Andrew?...”

 He gently placed his hand on her cheek:

 “Shh... I want you to keep on sleeping, Angel Girl!”

 He waited until she drifted off to sleep again, and, hearing the noise for the third time, Andrew decided to check where it was coming from. He kissed his dearest friend’s forehead and left the bedroom, going downstairs.

 The cracking noise of the wooden steps filled the dark shaded living room and arriving there, Andrew saw one of the windows had its glass broken into pieces. He sighed and shook his head, still bothered with the precarious condition of the house. But, before he could do anything to fix it, another noise was heard, louder than before; this time, it was coming from the back of the house, where the garage was.

 “It looks like a horror movie!”, the blond angel grumbled, heading towards the garage. Water dropped from the leaks on the ceiling and walls of the dirty place and a rat crossed the now empty floor. Andrew turned the light on, only one light bulb precariously illuminated the room, allowing him to finally see what was causing all that noise: The 2 huge wooden doors protested loudly as they swung back and forth on their lower hinge. The upper half had apparently, in some inexplicable way, been torn apart, and the heavy rain to invade the interior of the room.

 “But I could swear I closed them when they left!”, the angel exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He walked over to the doors and, as they had to be shut and locked up together, he took a firm hold onto one of them. But, when Andrew tried to grab the other one, a sudden gust of wind blew the other heavy wooden door shut, right on his left hand. Andrew let out a cry of pain with the impact, letting go of the door and holding his hand:

 “Father!...”, he whined, falling down on his knees and biting his lower lip, hardly bearing the sharp pain in his bones.

 In a dark corner of the garage, Gregory watched his suffering with a content expression on his face.

 *

 Meanwhile, Monica’s fever remained high and the Irish angel stirred in her bed, in her troubled sleep, still trembling with cold:

 “...Andrew...”, she whispered, with some concern on her asleep pale face. Suddenly, Monique emerged from the shadows of the night that flooded the bedroom. With an evil smile, the demon came closer to the angel’s bed:

 “That’s so easy that I almost feel bored...”, she said, and grabbed one of the pillows left on the bed, “...That will take just some seconds...”

 She leaned forward and was about to place the pillow on Monica’s face when the Irish angel turned her head to the side and opened her eyes extremely scared:

 “Andrew!!!”

 With that, Monique vanished in the air before Monica could even see her.

 *

 In the garage, while the rain and the strong wind flooded the entire place, Andrew tried to keep the great pain in his hand and wrist after the shock with the door, and stood on his feet again. He knew he had broken some bones and had to immobilise his hand immediately, but was still intrigued by how those doors had been opened up without any explanation.

 But what the blond angel didn’t notice was the big wooden beam that was right over him, in the ceiling, which was so old and withered that it started to crack, threatening to fall at any minute.

 Once again, in the interval between two gusts of wind, Andrew took  hold of the doors and managed to lock them. Not that he wanted to stop the rain from falling inside the house; the old building was already too deteriorated and undeserving of any special care. What the blond angel really feared was that place itself, the mansion and its surroundings, as there were no other houses nearby and, apparently, not a human soul either. He and Monica were all alone in a dark isolated area, lost among the woods, a desert road and a swamp, and keeping the house well locked was a way to keep away any stranger who happened to approach it.

 Still whining with the intense pain in his hand, he stood in the middle of the garage and looked around him:

 “Oh Father, please, help me...”, he whispered, unaware of the danger which was still there, in that room.

 Upstairs, Monica woke up with her heart pounding loudly in her chest, and, looking around and not finding her dearest friend nearby, the Irish angel stood up from the bed and walked groggily towards the bedroom door.

 Leaning against the dirty walls, Monica left her temporary bedroom and looked around the long dark corridor, but, again, she found no trace of the blond angel. The weak light allowed her to see the stairs and she imagined he could only be downstairs, in the kitchen, preparing her some tea. But, then, she wondered why she had that strange and eerie sensation of panic creeping her heart and her soul. Why was she under the strongest impression that her beloved friend was in great danger? The anguished angel headed to the stairs but, before she could make it, the lights went out once more:

 “Oh, Father...”, she whispered, even more scared. But the total darkness was broken by a streak of lightening, which showed her that she was just a few steps from the stairs:

“Andrew!”, Monica called once more, and, not having any reply, she started to walk again, ready to go downstairs, being guided by the walls and a series of lightening.

 But she was not alone in that dark corridor: Monique reappeared right behind her, and, again, the demon had an evil smile on her face.

*

 Andrew approached the light bulb to see the extension of the injury in his hand: it was bleeding and swollen, and the mere act of moving his fingers caused him to bit his lips in great pain:

“As if we didn’t have enough to worry about!”, he lamented, with some impatience in his voice. Besides, he knew that, once Monica saw it, she would be more worried about him than about herself; her unique compassion towards the others had always been one of the most remarkable qualities in her sweet personality; also being one of the uncountable reasons why he loved her so much.

Suddenly, he heard a cracking noise coming from somewhere in the filthy garage: the wooden beam that held the ceiling was crashing and, a second later, it collapsed, bringing the garage together with it.

Hearing the loud noise that echoed throughout the house, Monica’s eyes grew wide in panic:

 “Andrew! Andrew, where are you?! What’s happening?! Andrew, answer to me, please!”, she screamed in tears, despair evident in her voice.

 “Looks like Gregory already took care of your friend! I’m really glad to work with him, he’s so efficient!”, Monique said, her voice still not audible to the Irish angel’s ears.

 “Andrew! Answer to me, please!”, she called again, louder than before, and not hearing any reply, she came closer to the high stairs, still using the lightening and touching the walls to guide herself. Right behind her, Monique whispered:

 “...Now it seems that you’re the only one missing here!...”

 Downstairs, in the corridor that led to the garage, Andrew took off the dust the covered his clothes and stood on his feet. The blond angel had been able to hear the cracking of the wooden beam and, seconds before it crashed down, he had managed to run an get out of the garage, practically throwing himself into the dirty corridor.

 Breathing heavily, he looked at the door which he had just crossed and shivered at the image of total destruction inside the garage. But, all of a sudden, another sharp pain, maybe more intense than the one he was already feeling, came through the blond angel’s heart, causing him to whisper one single name:

 “Monica!”

 CHAPTER 7

 Deafening thunders crashed in the sky as the heavy rain still poured down, and, together with the strong howling wind, hit the old country house that stood in the woods, next to the desert road.

 In its interior, Andrew ran along one of the long corridors towards the living room, with a sudden and suffocating sensation of panic creeping on him. Something was telling him that Monica was in great danger and that he had to go to her immediately.

 On the top of the stairs, weak and dizzy, the Irish angel was about to give her first step down, with Monique standing right behind her, ready to pull the ill angel downstairs:

 “Andrew?”, she called, for the last time.

 “You want to talk to your friend? I’ll help you to go to him faster...”, the demon said, from behind her. But, before she could accomplish her diabolic plan, Andrew entered the dark room; the lightening helped him to see the Irish angel:

 “Monica!”

 “Andrew... I...”, but the Irish angel couldn’t finish her sentence: she stumbled on the first step and felt as if ‘something’, or, in that case, ‘someone’, had pushed her forward. But the blond angel was faster: with his heart pounding loudly in his chest, he climbed up the stairs in a rush and took hold of his dearest friend before she could fall:

 “It’s ok, I got you!”, he said, relived to have arrived right on time, and ignoring the intense pain he was feeling.

 “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Andrew. I woke up and you were not there...”, she cried, also with guilt in her words.

 “It’s alright, I shouldn’t have left that bedroom anyway. I’m the one who is sorry for scaring you like that!”

 The lights came back at that moment and the Irish angel was even more scared when she saw how high that fall could have been.

 “Come, I’ll take you back to the bedroom...”, Andrew said, leading her upstairs. But she shook her head:

 “No, Andrew, please. Can I stay here, in the living room? I... I don’t feel like coming back to the bedroom right now... I guess I was a wee bit claustrophobic there...”

 He nodded his head understandingly:

 “Sure, Angel Girl. Come with me, I’ll help you. You can lie down on the couch.”

 He carefully helped her way down to the couch and, when she sat down, he noticed that she was still trembling with cold, despite the hotness in her skin:

“I’ll go and get the blanket for you!”

Some seconds later, the blond angel came back and wrapped his coat and a blanket around his best friend, and, as soon as he sat beside her, Monica noticed his injured hand:

 “Oh, good Heaven! What happened to your hand, Andrew?”, she asked, worry already on her tired face.

 “It was an accident...”, he said, mentally scolding himself for letting her see the wound in his hand, as he didn’t want her to worry about him.

 “But look at this! It’s swollen and bleeding, you might have broken it!”, her preoccupation was evident in her anguished voice, and she touched his forearm as kindly as she could.

 “I’m not that bad, Monica. It’s just dirty. I’ll clean it up and it’ll be ok.”

 “I’ll do it for you!”, she said, quickly standing up to look for anything that could be used as a first aid material. But the disease that spread over her organism and the dizziness she was feeling caused her to sit down again:

 “Hey, hey! Easy there, Angel Girl! I guess you’ve been walking around way too much for one night!”, Andrew gently scolded her, placing his good hand on her small shoulder.

 “But your hand...”

 “I’ll get some water and a piece of cloth to wrap around it.”

 “Let me do it for you...”

 “Alright, but you’re gonna stay right here on this couch and don’t you move from here until I come back, you understand?”

 The Irish angel sadly nodded her head, feeling sorry for being unable to help her dearest friend properly. She lowered her head and, a second later, burst into tears.

 “Hey...”, Andrew quickly pulled her in his arms and held her tightly, “Please, don’t cry, Monica. You know that it breaks my heart and it hurts much more than any physical pain...”, he said, stroking her hair. He could feel her sorrow, as he and Tess were the only angels who knew exactly what was inside her kind, compassionate heart and only they could imagine how unhappy she was, not because of her illness, but because of them, due to the risk both were running in that place, at that dreadful night.

 “This is so terrible, Andrew... Tess and Adam are outside, risking themselves in a desert road, facing this terrible thunderstorm, and you are in the middle of nowhere, stuck inside an old house falling to pieces and badly hurt, and here I am, ill... It’s because of me that Tess and Adam are outside and I can’t even do anything to help any of you!...”

 Her sobs stopped her from talking and she curled up against him, burying her head in his chest.

 “Shh...”, he sighed heavily with sorrow evident in his green eyes, and let her cry for sometime.

 “Monica, even if you weren’t ill, we’d still be here, in this house, I probably would be hurt and all this rain would still be falling down.”

 “But at least Tess and Adam would be here to help you and wouldn’t be risking themselves outside!”

 Andrew pulled away just enough to look at her eyes:

 “They are outside, looking for help, because they have a very dear friend who needs them. And you would do exactly the same for them.”

 He wiped the tears on her reddened face:

 “Besides, if the rain gets worse, Tess and Adam can stop the car and wait, there’s enough gas to come and go 3 times and the gas station isn’t too far from here.”

 “I’m so worried, Andrew. I’m so worried about them and now you’re hurt too...”

 “I’m also worried, Monica. But don’t you forget that they’re not alone. God is with them as well as with us and He is taking care of His children, be sure of that.”

 The Irish angel sniffled and nodded her head understandingly:

 “I know. I should remember that in the first place...”

 “We are all nervous with this storm. And I can’t wait for this night to be over.”, he put a strand of her hair behind her ear and gently stroked her cheek:

 “But I guess we don’t have any choice for the last hours. And if I have to be stuck inside this house, in the middle of nowhere and falling to pieces, then I’m thankful that, at least, you’re here with me! I couldn’t ask for a better company! Now, I’ll need someone to help me here and... I was thinking about you!”, the blond angel smiled, “Could you give me a hand? You know, mine has a little problem...”

 That little joke was enough to make a tiny smile appear on her pale face and, pleased to see it, he kissed her forehead and stood up:

 “I’ll be right back!”

 *

Despite the weakness and dizziness, Monica forced herself to be awake and conscious in order to treat Andrew’s wounded hand. Not that he really needed her help – he would be able to do it himself. But the blond angel knew how miserable his dearest friend was feeling and allowing her to do that for him was a way to make her feel useful.

 She washed his hand with water and, after drying it, she carefully wrapped a cloth around it.

 “It’s ready. If only we had some antiseptic to put in your hand we...”

 “It’s fine, Monica. It’s perfect considering what we have at the moment!”, tenderly, he stroked her cheek, “Thank you!”

 “I guess having some experience in search and rescue helped me a little...”

 “You’re always the perfect angel at the perfect time!”

 A meek smile appeared on her face and he moved to the side:

 “You know something, Angel Girl? I think you’ve already completed your tour around this haunted house, so why don’t you lie down and rest now? We can stay right here in the living room until Tess and Adam come back.”

 Feeling exhausted and a little sleepy, the Irish angel nodded and lay down on the couch, using his leg as a pillow. Andrew covered her small form with the blanket and gently ran his fingers through her hair:

 “Sleep a little, Monica. When you wake up I’m sure Tess and Adam will be here, with help. And maybe the storm will have moved on and we’ll all go away from this house.”

 “I can fell it too, you know...”, she suddenly said, a pensive and rather serious look at the dark furniture, withered with age, which surrounded them like ghosts warning that that place was not safe to anybody.

 “Feel what, sweetie?”

 “The heavy atmosphere in this house that disturbs you so much.”

 “You do?”

 “Yes. It’s like I’ve said before. I feel a wee bit claustrophobic...”, she turned her head to look at his face, “You’re right. It feels like suffocating sometimes.”

 Andrew sighed heavily, concern evident on his eyes:

 “Just hang on a little longer, Angel Girl. I’m sure this is almost finishing.”, he stroked her cheek, “And I just can’t wait to see you better and to brew you lots of cups of coffee, away from Tess’ eyes!”

 Smiling, but still a little groggy, the Irish angel reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug:

 “I think I should mention the word ‘coffee’ more often! It sure has a great effect on you!”, he joked, and immediately received a tiny kiss on his cheek in reply.

In a dark corner of the same room, Monique and Gregory watched the two angels with disgust:

 “You know... These kind of scenes do make me feel something!...”, Monique said, with an ironic tone in her voice, “... A terrible headache!”

 Gregory sighed with impatience:

 “You know what I think? If we want to get rid of those two we’d better stop playing around and start talking serious because this thunderstorm is not gonna last forever!”

 “Yes, you’re right. But we still have the rest of the night, ‘cause their dear friends won’t bother us anymore, now that we’ve managed to send them away from this house!”, Gregory nodded his head:

 “Yes, they’d be a problem. Specially Tess, she’s able to spoil the whole party in just the blink of an eye!”

 “Well, they’re far away now and won’t come back here until it’s too late... Somehow, I’m under the impression that the ‘miraculous’ car they found in the garage isn’t as ‘miraculous’ as they thought it were!”

 They laughed evilly:

“Now let’s get the show started, ‘cause I don’t wanna waste my time with those two anymore!”, he said, and they disappeared afterwards.