Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Malakh
Another visitor, courtesy of Axl, turns up, determined to remove Izzy to a safer place.
1Moving
It started the next morning. People gathering beneath the apartment window. At first there were only a handful, standing silently and staring up at the window where Izzy and Slash nervously peered out. As the day wore on, the crowd grew. Some stood silently, candles clasped in their hands, while others shouted up at them. Some were abusive, most were religious. Izzy was either a freakish experiment or sent from heaven.
Leaning against the wall and keeping the wings hidden from view, Izzy peered down to the street.
"I'm going to fuckin' kill him," he hissed.
A weight pressed itself against him and he turned to see Slash looking down to the crowd.
Slash asked, "Who?"
"Axl," snarled Izzy. "He's been here five fuckin' minutes and already he's causing trouble."
"How do you know it was him?" Slash cocked his head.
"Because he's always been like this." Izzy twitched a wing in annoyance. "Right from a kid, he was always causing trouble for others." Izzy narrowed his eyes, hunting out Slash's through the hair. "Like I said, he's a fuckin' head case."
Through the thin glass and three floors down, they could the quiet chanting of prayers and Bible verses.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name. They kingdom come, thy will be done. On earth as it is in Heaven..."
~~~~
They spent the day alternating between lying on the mattress and checking on the crowd. By early evening the crowd filled the pavement, spilling onto the road.
Kneeling on the mattress, Slash peeked over the windowsill. "How do they know there's even an angel up here?"
Lying on his front, staring at the cracks in the wall, Izzy sighed. "Because Axl's probably told some minister, who's probably told his congregation. Then they've made a million phone calls and now every fuckin' religious nut in the area is outside." Izzy sighed again. "The religious are worse than women when it comes to fuckin' gossip and grapevines."
"Do you think they'll send the police?" Slash asked dreamily, his chin still propped on the wooden ledge.
"Huh?" Izzy twisted himself to look up at Slash.
"There's a lot of people out there." Slash's voice was still soft. "Sooner or later they're going to need riot control."
Izzy stared at him, wondering if the closed confinement of the last few weeks had finally made Slash insane.
"Are you crazy?! The last thing we need is fuckin' police. That church outing down there is bad enough." Izzy gestured to the window. "The
last thing we need is anyone else fuckin' interfering."
Slash turned from the window and collapsed onto the bed beside him, a hand reaching out to gently stroke the wings. There was a faraway look in his eyes, some daydream playing out behind the dark pools.
"Maybe they'll be able to get you out of here. Maybe they'll take you somewhere safe..." Slash's voice trailed off, a serene smile gracing his lips.
"Uh-uh." Izzy shook his head. "I'm not leaving here until I know where I'm going. The police, the government, the religious. They'll all want to take me "somewhere safe". Uh-uh, not happening."
Sinking back to the mattress, Izzy buried his head into the pillow, closing his eyes and trying to forget. Slash's gentle hands still wandered across the wings, stroking and soothing. Izzy felt himself begin to relax, eyes sliding shut. A quiet purr escaped from his lips as his weary muscles stretched and uncurled.
Suddenly, below the quiet chanting of the crowd, came the creaking of the ancient stairs. Terrified, Izzy scrambled up from the mattress, backing himself up against the wall. Trembling, his eyes flicked from the door to Slash and back again, the footsteps getting closer.
Reaching out to Slash, Izzy took his hand, holding on tightly. Every sense in his body was on high alert. Watching, waiting.
There was a pause and Izzy held his breath. Someone was out there, coming for him. He felt Slash squeeze his hand and he turned to give him a weak smile.
Slash's eyes were soft, filled with love and compassion, as he whispered, "It'll be okay."
Crawling across the bed, Izzy buried himself in the safety of Slash's arms and waited, eyes on the door. The quiet chanting carried on, the same few lines of the Lord's Prayer whispered over and over.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name. They kingdom come, thy will be done. On earth as it is in Heaven..."
The devotedly religious who thought that Izzy was a gift from God. A supposed God of compassion who had seen fit to curse him with wings. Maybe this was his destiny, to bring hope to the lost and broken? In the deadening silence, Izzy shook his head. That wasn't him, couldn't be him. He was just some freak, some sinner unworthy of such wings.
A heavy-handed knock rattled the door and Izzy dug his fingers into the back of Slash's hand.
A voice, one that Izzy thought was supposed to be reassuring, rumbled through the door, "Mr Isbell, will you please open the door."
It was Slash who spoke first, his voice shaking slightly, "Who is it?"
"My name is Father Durrant. I want to speak with Mr. Isbell."
"He's not here," Slash replied.
There was a sigh from outside the apartment. "Please don't lie to me. I know he's in there. Now please open the door."
Izzy looked at Slash, eyes wide and terrified, shaking. Slash smiled at him, fingers brushing hair out of Izzy's eyes as he leaned in to gently kiss him.
"I won't let him hurt you," he whispered into Izzy's mouth. "I promise."
"Open the door or I'll have it broken down," the deep voice came again.
Trembling, Slash stood, looking down at Izzy as he stepped towards the door. With tears prickling his eyes, Izzy held onto to his hand until the last possible moment. Silently, Izzy sat and watched as Slash cracked the door open and quietly spoke to the man outside. After a few moments, he stood back, letting in a black-suited, dog-collared man. Slender and with thinning, blonde hair, Father Durrant stood beside the bed, staring down at Izzy.
"Incredible." The Father seemed awestruck. "I never thought I'd see one."
Izzy stood, the wings tightly folded against his back and glared at him. "Wouldn't see what?"
"You, my child." Father Durrant stepped up to him, smiling and his hands held out. "You're one of a kind."
Izzy gritted his teeth. "I know, which is why I'm stuck in this shit hole."
The dog-collared man shook his head, his smile never moving. "You don't understand Jeffrey. You are a miracle." Izzy opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by a look from the Father. "You see, during the 1960's, one hundred pregnant women were injected with the DNA of an angel that fell to earth." Izzy rolled his eyes, not quite believing what he was hearing. "If you don't believe me," Father Durrant continued, "I can take you to the government facility where this angel, still alive I might add, is being held."
Izzy sighed, arms still crossed tightly against his chest. "Let me guess, Area 51?"
The Father laughed. "Area 51 is no longer the threat it used to be. This place is in plain view, yet no one suspects a thing."
Izzy still didn't believe what he was hearing. Fallen angels? Conspiracy theories? Hidden military bases? He'd overhead people talking about such things but had dismissed them as spook stories designed to keep the public scared.
"So," Izzy began, "my mother was injected with angel DNA and I was born without wings, only for them to become permanent after I had sex. So where are the other ninety nine kids that were injected?" He spread the wings. "And how do I get rid of these?"
Father Durrant sighed and pushed a hand over his thinning hair. "None of the other children survived. They were either stillborn or died in infancy. The eldest died at six before he ever discovered his wings. Yet the experiment was hailed as a success because one child survived. You, Jeffrey, are the one remaining survivor of Project Malakh."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better, how?" Izzy hissed, eyes narrowed and glaring.
The suited man just looked at him, eyes sweeping over the wings for a moment before speaking.
"How much of a punishment is it to spend the rest of your life as a symbol of hope for others? Hope that there is a better life after this one?
Izzy lent against the table, wings by his side, his expression never changing. "Because I don't want to be. I came here to be a musician, not a fuckin' freak show! And you didn't answer my other question: why are they still here?"
Father Durrant's face dropped, the elation of his find draining away. "There's no easy way to put this, but you fucked up. Big time. You had homosexual relations, a cardinal sin by Biblical standards and this is your punishment." Izzy snorted, rolling his eyes. "It's there, Jeffrey, in black and white, written in the great book for all to see. Surely you learnt this with Bill?"
Pushing himself away from the table, Izzy spread his wings and approached the Father. Anger rose deep inside him, seething, writhing anger. If he ever saw Bill again, Izzy was going to send him straight to the Hell he'd spoken of so many times.
"I knew the little shit was behind this. Little, fuckin', shit-stirring scumbag," he growled. "Why did he come to you Father? Why not go straight to the TV stations and make himself a fortune?"
"Because someone of the faith needed to see this. Someone who believed," came the obviously planned reply. "He came to me in faith, that I would look after you and care for you. Protect you from the people that want to harm you."
Izzy shook his head, the anger boiling away beneath the surface.
"Care for me, my ass! What do you really want with me Father? Am I to be your next money grabbing venture? Or are you going to hand me over to the government?" He let out a snarling laugh. "At least they'd probably give me a quick and painless death before they try and find out why I've lived so long."
"Jeffrey, you are alive for a reason." His voice became stern. "But you'll be safer with me. Much safer."
Shaking his head, Izzy turned away. "No. I'm staying here."
"Jeffrey," the voice softened slightly. "You are coming with me."
Standing by the window, Izzy stared out at the lost souls below. Many were now illuminated by candlelight, soft singing rising to the window.
It was surreal to watch them, upturned faces illuminated by the candles, all hoping to catch a glance of him. Angel boy. Sighing, he folded the wings behind him and watched, thinking. What would happen if he left here? Life would never be the same again. Hell, it hadn't been the same for several weeks. He'd been trapped in this room, aching to get out. Now he was being given the chance. But it was a chance he didn't want to take without Slash.
He quietly asked, "If you take me away, can Slash come?"
There was no reply, just a strangled silence. Izzy suspected the answer was no. They were in a relationship that was unapproved by the religious. Dirty, wrong... sinful. Closing his eyes, Izzy let his head fall against the wall. In the background, away from his thoughts, he heard slight movements and hushed voices. He thought nothing of it, wondering if it was Slash speaking with the priest, until something tightened around the wings.
Panicking, Izzy tried to pull away but found the wings restrained. Straps tightened around them as he screamed and ran across the room. Struggling, he tried to get to Slash, only to find himself being pulled back and onto his knees. He tried to move the muscles in his back, only for the strapping to tighten and dig into the wings, bones quietly cracking under the pressure. Looking up, he watched as the Father stepped up to Slash and moved the wide-eyed guitarist to one side. He felt tears begin to prick his eyes as Slash reached out a hand to him, mouthing I'm sorry as he was moved out of Izzy's line of sight. Izzy reached out his hands, trying to touch Slash before his wrists were grabbed and quickly pinioned behind his back. Letting out a howl, Izzy struggled to look behind him. Two men, both who looked and dressed like bouncers from the Strip, were adjusting the straps that bound his wings, tying them tightly to his body. He howled and tears streamed down his face as one of the burly men swung Izzy's slight frame over his shoulder and headed towards the door. Izzy thrashed his legs, a last desperate attempt to escape, before strong hands clamped over them.
"SLASH!" he screamed as he was hauled from the apartment. "SLASH PLEASE! YOU PROMISED!"
Slash stood in the doorway, being restrained by the other hired goon as he struggled to free himself and get to Izzy.
"IZZY, I'M SORRY!" came the scream from beneath the mad, whirlwind of hair as Izzy was manhandled out and down a back staircase.
~~~TBC~~~
Leaning against the wall and keeping the wings hidden from view, Izzy peered down to the street.
"I'm going to fuckin' kill him," he hissed.
A weight pressed itself against him and he turned to see Slash looking down to the crowd.
Slash asked, "Who?"
"Axl," snarled Izzy. "He's been here five fuckin' minutes and already he's causing trouble."
"How do you know it was him?" Slash cocked his head.
"Because he's always been like this." Izzy twitched a wing in annoyance. "Right from a kid, he was always causing trouble for others." Izzy narrowed his eyes, hunting out Slash's through the hair. "Like I said, he's a fuckin' head case."
Through the thin glass and three floors down, they could the quiet chanting of prayers and Bible verses.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name. They kingdom come, thy will be done. On earth as it is in Heaven..."
~~~~
They spent the day alternating between lying on the mattress and checking on the crowd. By early evening the crowd filled the pavement, spilling onto the road.
Kneeling on the mattress, Slash peeked over the windowsill. "How do they know there's even an angel up here?"
Lying on his front, staring at the cracks in the wall, Izzy sighed. "Because Axl's probably told some minister, who's probably told his congregation. Then they've made a million phone calls and now every fuckin' religious nut in the area is outside." Izzy sighed again. "The religious are worse than women when it comes to fuckin' gossip and grapevines."
"Do you think they'll send the police?" Slash asked dreamily, his chin still propped on the wooden ledge.
"Huh?" Izzy twisted himself to look up at Slash.
"There's a lot of people out there." Slash's voice was still soft. "Sooner or later they're going to need riot control."
Izzy stared at him, wondering if the closed confinement of the last few weeks had finally made Slash insane.
"Are you crazy?! The last thing we need is fuckin' police. That church outing down there is bad enough." Izzy gestured to the window. "The
last thing we need is anyone else fuckin' interfering."
Slash turned from the window and collapsed onto the bed beside him, a hand reaching out to gently stroke the wings. There was a faraway look in his eyes, some daydream playing out behind the dark pools.
"Maybe they'll be able to get you out of here. Maybe they'll take you somewhere safe..." Slash's voice trailed off, a serene smile gracing his lips.
"Uh-uh." Izzy shook his head. "I'm not leaving here until I know where I'm going. The police, the government, the religious. They'll all want to take me "somewhere safe". Uh-uh, not happening."
Sinking back to the mattress, Izzy buried his head into the pillow, closing his eyes and trying to forget. Slash's gentle hands still wandered across the wings, stroking and soothing. Izzy felt himself begin to relax, eyes sliding shut. A quiet purr escaped from his lips as his weary muscles stretched and uncurled.
Suddenly, below the quiet chanting of the crowd, came the creaking of the ancient stairs. Terrified, Izzy scrambled up from the mattress, backing himself up against the wall. Trembling, his eyes flicked from the door to Slash and back again, the footsteps getting closer.
Reaching out to Slash, Izzy took his hand, holding on tightly. Every sense in his body was on high alert. Watching, waiting.
There was a pause and Izzy held his breath. Someone was out there, coming for him. He felt Slash squeeze his hand and he turned to give him a weak smile.
Slash's eyes were soft, filled with love and compassion, as he whispered, "It'll be okay."
Crawling across the bed, Izzy buried himself in the safety of Slash's arms and waited, eyes on the door. The quiet chanting carried on, the same few lines of the Lord's Prayer whispered over and over.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name. They kingdom come, thy will be done. On earth as it is in Heaven..."
The devotedly religious who thought that Izzy was a gift from God. A supposed God of compassion who had seen fit to curse him with wings. Maybe this was his destiny, to bring hope to the lost and broken? In the deadening silence, Izzy shook his head. That wasn't him, couldn't be him. He was just some freak, some sinner unworthy of such wings.
A heavy-handed knock rattled the door and Izzy dug his fingers into the back of Slash's hand.
A voice, one that Izzy thought was supposed to be reassuring, rumbled through the door, "Mr Isbell, will you please open the door."
It was Slash who spoke first, his voice shaking slightly, "Who is it?"
"My name is Father Durrant. I want to speak with Mr. Isbell."
"He's not here," Slash replied.
There was a sigh from outside the apartment. "Please don't lie to me. I know he's in there. Now please open the door."
Izzy looked at Slash, eyes wide and terrified, shaking. Slash smiled at him, fingers brushing hair out of Izzy's eyes as he leaned in to gently kiss him.
"I won't let him hurt you," he whispered into Izzy's mouth. "I promise."
"Open the door or I'll have it broken down," the deep voice came again.
Trembling, Slash stood, looking down at Izzy as he stepped towards the door. With tears prickling his eyes, Izzy held onto to his hand until the last possible moment. Silently, Izzy sat and watched as Slash cracked the door open and quietly spoke to the man outside. After a few moments, he stood back, letting in a black-suited, dog-collared man. Slender and with thinning, blonde hair, Father Durrant stood beside the bed, staring down at Izzy.
"Incredible." The Father seemed awestruck. "I never thought I'd see one."
Izzy stood, the wings tightly folded against his back and glared at him. "Wouldn't see what?"
"You, my child." Father Durrant stepped up to him, smiling and his hands held out. "You're one of a kind."
Izzy gritted his teeth. "I know, which is why I'm stuck in this shit hole."
The dog-collared man shook his head, his smile never moving. "You don't understand Jeffrey. You are a miracle." Izzy opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by a look from the Father. "You see, during the 1960's, one hundred pregnant women were injected with the DNA of an angel that fell to earth." Izzy rolled his eyes, not quite believing what he was hearing. "If you don't believe me," Father Durrant continued, "I can take you to the government facility where this angel, still alive I might add, is being held."
Izzy sighed, arms still crossed tightly against his chest. "Let me guess, Area 51?"
The Father laughed. "Area 51 is no longer the threat it used to be. This place is in plain view, yet no one suspects a thing."
Izzy still didn't believe what he was hearing. Fallen angels? Conspiracy theories? Hidden military bases? He'd overhead people talking about such things but had dismissed them as spook stories designed to keep the public scared.
"So," Izzy began, "my mother was injected with angel DNA and I was born without wings, only for them to become permanent after I had sex. So where are the other ninety nine kids that were injected?" He spread the wings. "And how do I get rid of these?"
Father Durrant sighed and pushed a hand over his thinning hair. "None of the other children survived. They were either stillborn or died in infancy. The eldest died at six before he ever discovered his wings. Yet the experiment was hailed as a success because one child survived. You, Jeffrey, are the one remaining survivor of Project Malakh."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better, how?" Izzy hissed, eyes narrowed and glaring.
The suited man just looked at him, eyes sweeping over the wings for a moment before speaking.
"How much of a punishment is it to spend the rest of your life as a symbol of hope for others? Hope that there is a better life after this one?
Izzy lent against the table, wings by his side, his expression never changing. "Because I don't want to be. I came here to be a musician, not a fuckin' freak show! And you didn't answer my other question: why are they still here?"
Father Durrant's face dropped, the elation of his find draining away. "There's no easy way to put this, but you fucked up. Big time. You had homosexual relations, a cardinal sin by Biblical standards and this is your punishment." Izzy snorted, rolling his eyes. "It's there, Jeffrey, in black and white, written in the great book for all to see. Surely you learnt this with Bill?"
Pushing himself away from the table, Izzy spread his wings and approached the Father. Anger rose deep inside him, seething, writhing anger. If he ever saw Bill again, Izzy was going to send him straight to the Hell he'd spoken of so many times.
"I knew the little shit was behind this. Little, fuckin', shit-stirring scumbag," he growled. "Why did he come to you Father? Why not go straight to the TV stations and make himself a fortune?"
"Because someone of the faith needed to see this. Someone who believed," came the obviously planned reply. "He came to me in faith, that I would look after you and care for you. Protect you from the people that want to harm you."
Izzy shook his head, the anger boiling away beneath the surface.
"Care for me, my ass! What do you really want with me Father? Am I to be your next money grabbing venture? Or are you going to hand me over to the government?" He let out a snarling laugh. "At least they'd probably give me a quick and painless death before they try and find out why I've lived so long."
"Jeffrey, you are alive for a reason." His voice became stern. "But you'll be safer with me. Much safer."
Shaking his head, Izzy turned away. "No. I'm staying here."
"Jeffrey," the voice softened slightly. "You are coming with me."
Standing by the window, Izzy stared out at the lost souls below. Many were now illuminated by candlelight, soft singing rising to the window.
It was surreal to watch them, upturned faces illuminated by the candles, all hoping to catch a glance of him. Angel boy. Sighing, he folded the wings behind him and watched, thinking. What would happen if he left here? Life would never be the same again. Hell, it hadn't been the same for several weeks. He'd been trapped in this room, aching to get out. Now he was being given the chance. But it was a chance he didn't want to take without Slash.
He quietly asked, "If you take me away, can Slash come?"
There was no reply, just a strangled silence. Izzy suspected the answer was no. They were in a relationship that was unapproved by the religious. Dirty, wrong... sinful. Closing his eyes, Izzy let his head fall against the wall. In the background, away from his thoughts, he heard slight movements and hushed voices. He thought nothing of it, wondering if it was Slash speaking with the priest, until something tightened around the wings.
Panicking, Izzy tried to pull away but found the wings restrained. Straps tightened around them as he screamed and ran across the room. Struggling, he tried to get to Slash, only to find himself being pulled back and onto his knees. He tried to move the muscles in his back, only for the strapping to tighten and dig into the wings, bones quietly cracking under the pressure. Looking up, he watched as the Father stepped up to Slash and moved the wide-eyed guitarist to one side. He felt tears begin to prick his eyes as Slash reached out a hand to him, mouthing I'm sorry as he was moved out of Izzy's line of sight. Izzy reached out his hands, trying to touch Slash before his wrists were grabbed and quickly pinioned behind his back. Letting out a howl, Izzy struggled to look behind him. Two men, both who looked and dressed like bouncers from the Strip, were adjusting the straps that bound his wings, tying them tightly to his body. He howled and tears streamed down his face as one of the burly men swung Izzy's slight frame over his shoulder and headed towards the door. Izzy thrashed his legs, a last desperate attempt to escape, before strong hands clamped over them.
"SLASH!" he screamed as he was hauled from the apartment. "SLASH PLEASE! YOU PROMISED!"
Slash stood in the doorway, being restrained by the other hired goon as he struggled to free himself and get to Izzy.
"IZZY, I'M SORRY!" came the scream from beneath the mad, whirlwind of hair as Izzy was manhandled out and down a back staircase.
~~~TBC~~~
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