689Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYjm9paHkea
Chapter 1
689Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkfUqeNNTmz
Raum didn’t know what to make of this newly adopted creature. He thought to himself that it reminded him of a mouse, a very large baby mouse without a tail. It was as fragile as china, as loud as a vulture, and it smelled of its own drool. Even so, he couldn’t contain his personal curiosity and allow his talon-tipped fingers to stray into the wooden crib. His black, soulless eyes took in every detail of the child’s tiny pink body, especially her bright blue eyes that were full of wonder and innocence. They sat in a cherubic face. Tiny strands of silky, golden hair lay in one tiny layer over the rosy skin on top of her head.
As gently as he could manage, he brushed the child’s left cheek with the bend of his index finger, looking out to make sure his talons did not graze her delicate skin. The child made a noise at his touch and one of her tiny hands, which were no larger than a fifty-cent coin when compared to his, clasped around one of his bird-like fingers. Instantly, something inside of Raum felt satisfied. A warm feeling made his feather’s stir and caused something in his chest to tighten.
The baby cooed at him as her grip tightened around the talon. She was so strong for something so tiny and helpless, and that fascinated Raum . . . and it unsettled him, for it showed him exactly what the Great Creator was capable of.
The beating of wings behind him made him aware that his new partner was arriving; the one who would be holding his leash until the child’s life came to an end. A sense of reluctance and wariness enveloped him. When he turned to look he saw a white dove sitting at the windowsill, but he knew better. With a small jerk, he tore his finger from the baby’s grip. The absence of her newly-found toy caused the baby to whimper and cry in protest, and what nobody ever knew was that Raum understood how the little baby felt.
He turned his head and stared daggers into the dove, but the small, white bird was hardly intimidated.
“Don’t get too attached!” the she warned him, “So long as I’m here, you won’t lay another claw on her. Is that understood?”
Raum did not reply, but the answer churned in his mind. He knew so long as the child’s guardian angel was babysitting him, he couldn’t just do anything he wished. Completely powerless compared to the angel’s strength, resisting and rebelling wasn’t an option. Leaving wasn’t an option, either. Simply taking the child now could land him with a brutal punishment back in Hell.
His only answer to the angel was silence as he perched in a bird-like manner at the end of the crib and continued to gaze into the tiny baby’s eyes.
The dove—the angel—morphed into her beautiful humanoid form. Her hair came down in waves of white and grey and golden. Her face was well-aged, but beautiful, and her hazel eyes shined like jewelry. The wings that sat upon her back were very large and the purest shade of white. The downy feathers in the wings made them appear as if they were glowing.
Raum did not hold the beauty that the angel had. He bore the head of an old raven with an ugly grey beak and beady black eyes. Every feather was old and mangled, yet were still silky-smooth in some places. His hands and feet were the four-digit appendages that a bird had. His wings were huge and the longest feathers dragged on the floor behind him when he walked. His torso looked somewhat human but was horribly thin, as if he hadn’t eaten in quite some time. His lower half was covered with scraps of tattered brown leather. It was only those who could see the beauty in the strange and the terrifying that could ever remark him as beautiful.
“Why are you even here,” the angel asked, “Who are you?”
Raum’s slouched posture straightened as he adjusted his position and moved away from the crib, “Why does it matter who I am or why I’m here?”
“Because I don’t trust strangers, especially those of the demonic type. If I’m going to have to work with you, we might as well know each other’s names.”
“Fine. You first.”
The angel sighed with frustration, “Mable. My name is Mable; Edith’s guardian angel. I am also her great-grandmother.”
“I am Raum; a demon.”
“Why are you here?”
“Many reasons. I don’t want to bore you, so I’ll just say I’m here because I have to be; the same as you.”
“Don’t even start comparing yourself to me! You are evil!”
Raum lifted a finger, “Then what does that make you? Sure, I might be evil, but I was sent here for the exact same reason you’re here now; for the child.”
Mable shook her head, “The child has a name. It’s Edith.”
A distant look settled in Raum’s gaze, “Edith . . . Edith . . .”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, really, tell me what you were thinking.”
“The name just reminded me of Eden, that’s all.”
“What?”
“Eden. You know; the Garden of Eden?”
Mable shook her head again, “You’re an odd sort of demon, do you know that?”
Raum shrugged, “Maybe.”
The demon lumbered back over to Edith’s crib and allowed the child to grip his finger once more. His feet held onto the front of it and his shoulders hunched over once more. He could consider himself lucky, because it wouldn’t be long before Edith could no longer see him or touch him. At best, he might be remembered as a figment of her imagination or someone that was in a dream, but aside from that he wouldn’t exist to her. He’d live in the shadows; out of sight. He’d live in her nightmares, and she would be afraid of him. The thought made him decide that he’d make the most of every moment he was still a physical and friendly being to the tiny infant.
“I’m only going to keep pestering you if you don’t tell me the reason why you’re here.” Mable piped up.
“You’d find something else to pester me about.”
“Don’t start thinking you might have a chance at taking her. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Don’t get yours up either.”
Mable tilted her head in confusion and she shot him a skeptical look, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t write me off as stupid, O Pure One. I know that the child is not baptized. I know her parents are not Christian, and I also know that they’re short-tempered and have little tolerance for anything they find annoying, stressful, or a lot of work. That is what defines a child. The odds are just as much in your favor as they are mine.”
Mable crossed her arms, “I’ve warned you not to get too attached to her. Something evil like you does not deserve someone as good as Edith.”
Raum snorted and morphed into his animal form. He was quite large, even for a raven, and his wings made a loud snapping sound as they lifted him into the air and carried him towards the window.
“Now, where are you going?” Mable asked, “You can’t just leave.”
“I’ll be on the roof. I can tell that I make you uneasy, and maybe it’s for the best.”
Raum soared out of Edith’s nursery and landed on the chimney. He settled himself down on the gritty tiles and looked up at the moon that shone bright in the night sky.
“Time passes by too fast for me to enjoy the little things,” he said to himself, “Especially with an angel in the way.”
Meanwhile, back in Edith’s nursery, Mable was trying to calm the fussy infant before her crying brought about her parents. That thought made her nervous, because she knew Raum had been right about them. Edith’s parents would have little tolerance for her during her early years, and that fact didn’t form a very good scenario for the child.
Raum might be a demon, apathetic, blunt, and cruel, but he was also right.
Desperate to calm Edith back to resting—or better yet, sleeping—the angel twirled her hands, producing a shining white light. From this light emerged a small teddy bear with a silver and gold bow around its neck. Mable lowered the bear into the baby’s crib and into her hands. Edith’s eyes gazed into the black button ones on the toy and she instantly quieted down; sensing some sort of familiarity with the black color of Raum’s eyes as she held it to her chest. Minutes later, she was sleeping soundly.
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