Undone by a Broken Angel

“If you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God.” -Proverbs 2: 4-5 How dare she choose him!  How dare she uproot his life and give him hope when there is none!  He was fine until now, separating himself from the others in order to keep them safe, but now it's ruined.  Not only has his destination changed, his life is changed. He's never been to Venice before.  David, Abe's brother, has, but Abraham has never gotten the pleasure.  He was planning on going as far east as he could- mostly to research the weapons there- but a quick pit stop at Dianna’s changed his course.  He never likes to spend much time at his former home.  What little memories he has of the place haunt him with loneliness. He decided to take a boat out to the island.  If there's one thing his kind hates the most, it's boats.  They're unnatural the way they sway on the water, giving into the water's every whim.  It takes every ouch of patience he has in him not to leap into the sky towards freedom, but he sits there instead, grinding his teeth in anger.  Had he known his course would be altered, he would have come before the sunrise to fly in under the cover of darkness.   It's Early morning, so everyone is out in the city center for the morning market.  Most of them look either to be servants or poor citizens.  The few rich citizens he spots are dressed sharply, shopping for expensive trinkets like jewelry and elaborate glassware.  He's not sure where he should be looking.  It’s hot in the basilica square, the sun beats off the cobblestones and his heavy black cloak soaks up the heat.  He tries to stick to the shadow of the massive basilica, but he can feel the eyes of all the statues and gargoyles that look down on him.  Trying not to focus on his inner turmoil and apparent discomfort, he tries to force his mind on the task at hand.  He assumes she would be living in the wealthy section of the city- there's no way her mother would let her live in poverty.  He leaves the basilica square and starts walking, hoping he'll spot some nice, big, expensive looking houses. People push by him and he panics trying to keep them from bumping into his back.  It would be hard to explain wings to a group of people who quickly jump to conclusions, especially with the church having such a strong influence in this community.  He was looking forward  to meeting the peaceful Buddhists, but nothing ever goes his way.  However, if the letter he found is accurate,  things may finally be working out for him.  “Excuse me, sir,” says an Italian man.  He’s wearing clothes like his own.  Dark, long pants, shiny leather shoes, and a button up shirt under a vest.  The only difference is that the man before him is not wearing a cloak and a tobacco pipe hangs out of the corner of his mouth.  Clouds of smoke circle him and snake up above them, the smell of it invading his nostrils.  “Who are you, young man?  Your face is unfamiliar.”  Abe reaches out to shake his hand.   “I'm Jack McKinley, sir.   It's nice to meet you.”  He’s always used a fake name while traveling and doesn’t hesitate to use the name now, but the image of the girl who first used it flashes through his mind, making him momentarily uncomfortable.  “Jack,  huh? Well,  I know who you're looking for,”  the man narrows his eyes with a knowing look.  Who is this man? Doesn't matter, he looks tasty, the voice hisses.   I bet he has a succulent soul.   He shuts the voice up and focuses on the man again.  “I'm looking for a woman about eighteen or nineteen.  I don't know what she looks like,” Abe replies,  hopeful that the man might lead him to her.  “She has curly dark hair, gold-green eyes, and is skinny as a stick.”  The man pauses to take a long puff off his pipe, watching Abe’s reaction.   “Her name is Abigail Grace.” His heart almost stops beating, and the voice flares up yelling, find her and kill her!  Kill her now!  Find and kill her!  He tries to empty his mind, tries to focus on anything other than the excitement and joy that fills him, anything to stop the voice that rages through the depths of his mind, and follows the man to his home- where he says he has the girl.s no way her mother would let her live in poverty.  He leaves the basilica square and starts walking, hoping he'll spot some nice, big, expensive looking houses. People push by him and he panics trying to keep them from bumping into his back.  It would be hard to explain wings to a group of people who quickly jump to conclusions, especially with the church having such a strong influence in this community.  He was looking forward  to meeting the peaceful Buddhists, but nothing ever goes his way.  However, if the letter he found is accurate,  things may finally be going his way.  “Excuse me, sir,” says an Italian man.  He’s wearing clothes like his own.  Dark, long pants, shiny leather shoes, and a button up shirt under a vest.  The only difference is that the man before him is not wearing a cloak and a tobacco pipe hangs out of the corner of his mouth, Clouds of smoke circling him and snaking up above them, the smell of it invading his nostrils.  “Who are you, young man?  Your face is unfamiliar.”  Abe reaches out to shake his hand.   “I'm Jack McKinley, sir.   It's nice to meet you.”  He’s always used a fake name while traveling and doesn’t hesitate to use the name now, but the image of the girl who first used it flashes through his mind, making him momentarily uncomfortable.  “Jack,  huh? Well,  I know who you're looking for,”  the man narrows his eyes with a knowing look.  Who is this man? Doesn't matter, he looks tasty, the voice hisses.   I bet he has a succulent soul.   He shuts the voice up and focuses on the man again.  “I'm looking for a woman about eighteen or nineteen.  I don't know what she looks like,” Abe replies,  hopeful that the man might lead him to her.  “She has curly dark hair, gold-green eyes, and is skinny as a stick.”  The man pauses to take a long puff off his pipe, watching Abe’s reaction.   “Her name is Abigail Grace.” His heart almost stops beating, and the voice flares up yelling, find her and kill her!  Kill her now!  Find and kill her!  He tries to empty his mind, tries to focus on anything other than the excitement and joy that fills him, anything to stop the voice that rages through the depths of his mind, and follows the man to his home- where he says he has the girl.