Re: Elevator: Inside
His hopes for a solitary ride further into the belly of the ship were dashed aside when the animal joined him. There was no time to make an escape, for trembling wings to find another place to hide, before the doors closed and the elevator began its descent. The scent of fear that clung to him was thick in the air, and the angel shrank back, pressed into a corner of the elevator car with some futile effort to escape.
Angel he might have been, but he was nothing close to innocent. He had seen, he had known, he knew what pain felt like, what fear felt like, had seen and experienced his own share of both, and the predator he shared the tiny car with was the sort that could deliver both in a heartbeat. "I mean you no harm," he said softly, his voice just above a whisper, but there was maturity in the voice, wisdom that belied his appearance. Fingers laced together, pressed against his belly, dark eyes never straying far from the animal's form. The sound of the growl, the flick of the tail, and the boy tilted his head up towards the ceiling. Lips moved in silent prayer, whispers to God above who still listened, who would help him, even here.
And then, with a shuddering quake that was neither heaven or hell sent, but seeping with the amusement of some other fate, the elevator car came to a stop, creaking and screaming as breaks caught, suspending them between here and there. His eyes opened again, coming to stare at the animal, and two words escaped him.