ANGEL FALL I

Protector

The junk site lay on the outskirts of the city, a sprawling expanse of discarded tools and forgotten properties. To most, it was just a place where unwanted things found their final resting place, a graveyard for objects once cherished and now abandoned.

Meanwhile to people like Greta, the place was a treasure trove.

Greta waded through piles of rotting appliances, twisted scrap metal, and heaps of worn-out electronics that stretched as far as the eye could see and beyond that.

The air carried a peculiar scent, a mixture of rust, decay, and the faint aroma of old motor oil.

Greta turned to the boy, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "So, what's your name?" she asked, trying to strike up a conversation as they ventured deeper into the labyrinth of scrap.

The boy glanced at her and replied with a curt, "Max."

Greta raised an eyebrow, instantly annoyed by his rudeness "Max, huh? That's a strong name. Where are you from?"

"City," Max replied tersely, his eyes scanning the mounds of discarded machinery.

Greta pressed on, her persistence unyielding. "I see. What made you want to become an apprentice at Donny’s?"

Max shrugged, his attention still fixed on the scattered debris. "Work."

Greta sighed inwardly, realizing that Max wasn't much of a conversationalist. She continued her search for the parts she needed, occasionally picking up a rusted piece of equipment and examining it closely. "You know, Max, this junkyard holds all kinds of stories. Each of these discarded things has a history, don't you think?"

Max merely nodded, his gaze darting around the junkyard.

“Do people come here often?” he asked.

Greta, surprised, took her time before answering the question.

“Well not really”, she said. “Most days this place is usually deserted”.

“So no one comes here often”, he asked again.

The edge in his tone wasn’t lost on Greta as she replied cautiously, “Yes that's right”.

"Ever wonder about the people who used to own these things?" Greta ventured, hoping to draw him into a more engaging conversation and clear off the tension she felt in his presence.

Max hesitated for a moment, then replied "Sometimes."

Greta smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment in getting him to open up just a bit. "That's the beauty of places like this. You never know what you might find—a forgotten photograph, a hidden treasure, or even a piece of machinery that can be brought back to life."

A sharp Crunch! made Greta turn.

Greta turned sharply. It had come from her right. But nothing was there.

“Hey did you hear that—” she started to say to Max when she suddenly felt something sharp sear through her stomach from behind.

Greta stumbled forward, her eyes widening with fear and confusion. Her mind raced to understand what had just happened.

As she fell forward she managed to turn. And what she saw confused her even more.

Max was standing there with a grim look on his face, while a sort of bladed tentacle retreated into his rib cage. Somehow he looked a hundred years older than he’d did.

Then he opened his mouth but it wasn’t the voice she’d heard few minutes ago.

“Forgive me Daughter of Eve”, he said in a ghastly voice. Then he started to walk towards her, each step grave and steady.

“W-what?” Greta mumbled and tried to crawl away from him. With each movement the wound in her stomach stung her in protest.

She tried to use her hand to stub the opening but it was of no use.

By now Max was standing over, his eyes solemn as he looked down at her.

“Why?” Greta managed to say as she struggled to stay conscious. With each passing moment she lost blood and her vision had started to go dark.

“Do not blame me, Daughter of Eve” Max said in that ancient voice. “I do this, not out of hate for you, but for the sake of all that is good and right”.

Two tentacles shot out from his body and curved towards Greta.

The sun’s Rays glinted on the blades as they dove towards her, creating an amazing view to Greta even as she knew she was at death’s door.

Just as the blades were inches from her face, and she was sure that would be her end, someone stepped in front of her.

The first thing she saw was wings. Wings so white that she was sure she’d go blind just by looking at them.

The wings parted to reveal their owner, and Greta's eyes traced the wings from their tip to the base where they were attached to the newcomers back.

His back was broad and powerful, she could tell just by looking at it.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to reply that hell, she wasn’t but her words caught in her throat when he turned to face her.

He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

Greta couldn’t breathe as she took him in, from his striking golden eyes to his sharp nose. And not to mention that jawline that could definitely cut through mountains.

Her train of thought was interrupted when she saw another tentacle curve around him and head for her again.

But the winged man was way ahead of it.

Instantly he grabbed the tentacle and squeezed, shattering it to dust.

Faster than her eyes could follow, he spun and dove at Max Superman style, with his fist in front of him.

The fist connected with Max' jaw with a sickening Crunch!

As Max fell backwards stunned, two more tentacles burst from his chest.

The winged man s*****d them aside effortlessly.

He spun to avoid another two that came from the left. It was like he could see them all coming before they could strike.

Max screamed in frustration, his voice turning more haunting as he held his loose jaw. It was hanging from his mouth and it was all he could do to keep it attached.

This time the tentacles that shot from him were more than a dozen, each one sharper than the last.

The winged man didn’t bother to dodge.

Instead he roared and pulled back his wings, arching his back as he did so.

Then he smashed his wings together in front of him, creating a vortex of wind that somehow shattered all the tentacles and sent Max flying off into the distance.

Greta coughed and the winged man was instantly at her side, looking at her with concern like nothing had happened.

“I’ve got you” he said, his voice steady.

Then he carefully lifted her into his arms.

As her consciousness faded Greta couldn’t help but wonder how all she felt in his arms.

And speaking of arms, his were huge. It was like they were sculpted and not made from flesh.

His scent was the last thing she took in before he spread his wings and lashed up into the sky, the updraft immediately sending her to sleep.