2:13 AM. The warm dewy air with occasional slapping flying bugs near my mouth and itching my sensitive skin, I observe his right-wing shedding feathers at my feet. The good news is his hole is closing but at a slow pace. "Where are we going?" We trek through the piney odor of dark trees, moving branches from my face with only an overcast black sky ahead of us.

"Somewhere secure until I heal."

"I don't get it."

"What?" He shoved a fist-size rock to the side with his foot so I would not trip over it.

"How are you able to get hurt? You are the angel of death."

"As long as I am in sight of humans, I am touchable with black magic. He can not hurt my being. But he can open the gate within me."

"I see. I also want to-"

"Wait." My possessor presses his hand against my chest to halt. Then treads forward, cradling his one visible wing.

An abandoned church sits on a flat hill surrounded by wheat-colored grass and broken glass. A small dim light barely illuminates the entrance. It used to be white, but the wood rots away from lack of care. The veins engulfed one side of the church up the bent cross at the roof's peak. He opens the rangy door that's barely hanging onto the hinges. It squeaks as we enter. Now that I know ghosts are real, I know for a fact the church is crawling with them.

Vigilantly, I walked through the nave, crushing debris toward the altar, glancing at boarded windows coated in dust and broken drywall crumbling to the floor. When morning sunlight awakes, there will still be no light for basking. I love the outdoors, minus the winglet insects, but such a shame, deprived of natural light. I gaze at my possessor, studying him sauntering to a shrine with melted candles to the nub and a scuffed-up cross.

He stands in the moonlight of floating dust, removing the pieces left of his coat that the wings tore two holes in the back. He flexed his shoulder blades to stretch and removed his shirt, revealing his muscly torso covered in Tamil markings. I eyed the markings, proceeding downward to read it, and he did a few stretching twists, and something unreal caught my eye. He doesn't have a navel. He was never born?

The kink of his back as I saw his left wing suck up in his flesh, leaving a scar while spreading out the right wing to avoid disrupting the hole. I watched the feathers accumulate for coverage but just by a little bit.

He knelt to both his knees and held out his hands with his head tilted to the sky.

"What do the markings say?" I asked, but silence I received. "Hey, did you hear me?" Still, he does not breathe an answer. I sigh, annoyed. He could answer before he prayed. I stormed to where he was and looked him dead in the face, eyes only displaying the sclera. I softly poked his cheek, but his body felt like a stone. Fear warped my stomach a bit. I'm used to being alone, but not alone in an expired, grimy place like this. Now, what the hell am I supposed to do? The crying of a type of bird terrified me. Uncertain how long we will stay here. To feel safe, I laid my head on his steep thigh. I closed my eyes, balling up. If danger approaches, I hope he comes before it reaches us.

Time is fleeting, and the sun is at its highest point. Four days and he has not moved. There is a hole-in-the-wall gas station a mile or so from here that I visited for food and water. At Least I could muster up the guts and tour the church while I waited. In the church's north transept- I found a hidden closet with a broom, bucket, and cleaning supplies. I cleaned a small section of the pew to sleep for tonight instead of next to him.

Boredom takes hold of me, days in and days out, my possessor in the same positions for over a week. The money on my card is getting low, and I no longer have income coming in. In a month, I will be losing my apartment as well. Something has to happen. How will I live? I have considered myself strong, but tears have found me more than I want to admit. I should trust his judgment, but he doesn't have to survive as I do.

I've done yard work to clear my mind, finding tools in the church shack with fertilizer and racks. It hasn't been abandoned for long, only vandalized. I can tell by the wood coating on the benches. In a few days, I had the grass already growing vibrantly. I've always had a green thumb. My mom called it the miracle thumb, but I never liked praise that was insignificant to me. When done, I sit in the pew comfortably, enjoying a family of western bluebirds preparing before the sun hides for tonight.

Air escaped his lungs, echoing through the quiet sanctuary, coming back to life. He rose from his position, maneuvering his shirt. "You've been gone for thirteen days. You should warn someone before doing that." I go to where he stands.

"Your need to know is of little importance."

"Asshole," I said under my breath.

"Your derogatory language is also nonessential. And to answer your question, you already know the answer."

"What?"

"The markings. You are my confidant. The majority of my knowledge is yours."

"Wait, you heard me and didn't say anything?"

"Your question did not need an immediate answer."

"Ugh, you're ridiculous." Our conversation fell into an awkward silence. I sighed again. "Well. Can I take a look, or does it not need immediate observation?" I mocked him, rolling my eyes.

"We will be here for a while, protected by my barrier." My possessor lifted the front of his shirt, merely displaying his stomach. I stared at him shyly, feeling nervous. I try not to sexualize him, but there is one thing I can not see past: how gorgeous he is.

"Control your inner Eros that is driving your desire," he utters.

"Is it immoral if it is only towards you?"

"Humans are complicated."

"Answer the question." I urged, but he stood quiet, feeling his presence leave the room while the body stayed.

My shoulders tensed like stiff wood at how opaque he acted. So I forced the suppression. "I will try," I responded and took a closer look, seeing seven scriptures from the Codex Vaticanus and the names of every dead soul he reaped. It has to be over a million names. Touching him stumped my will as I traced my hand down his chest, but he clenched it, gently removing me.

"Sorry," I whispered. "Every person you harvest their name appears on you?"

"Not all, only the souls who return to earth- my body is a bookkeeper."

"Why do they return to earth?"

"A second chance."

"Hmph. Some people don't deserve it." I said but he stayed indifferent.

"Okay- I have many questions to ask you. Are you bad or good? Do you take souls who are not ready? And why can only a handful of people see you? Why is the warlock after you? Why did you choose me to be your Confidant? What is your name?" I bunched my words together in urgency, but he pressed his four fingers against my lips.

"Doe, I am neither good nor bad. I collect souls that are ready to ascend. I harvest, not destroy. Why did I choose you? I can not speak on, but I can indicate that the ones who see me are the ones who were close to death."

"Including me?" I do not recall almost dying. Then I recollected a young memory, and I beamed at him. "That was you I saw in the water. You saved me." I fantasize at the thought. He kept quiet and looked off as though in deep thought. The first time I saw him with a natural, human-like expression. Of course, he was not there to save me. That is not his role. I walked back to the pew and rested back in my seat as he followed me to hover in the nave, staring.

"It was sixteen years ago. My family went to Lake Fair that summer. We had a timeshare to save money for travel, based at a location my father wanted to visit- a beautiful place. Jet skis and summer tans were something everyone looked forward to, teens who I used to want to hang out with because they had so much fun. I wanted to grow up so fast to swing on the ropes with them to dive into the lake. I used to watch them from a hill under this white oak tree that gave shade, cooling my surroundings from across the lake. I saw girls take off their tops for the boys as a dare. I was a little shocked by their exposure, but it didn't stop me from wanting to be like them-

I was only eight years old. What did I know, right? My dad told me to stay away from the water unless he or my mom accompanied me. I was learning how to swim, but I felt ready. That night during the community gathering. Barbeque filled the air with the crackling fireplace- laughs of enjoyment and no care. I can still feel the warm sticky breeze. I saw the teens exiting the back doors, sneaking alcohol and mischievous, falling in love under the half moon that barely glowed the sky surrounded by stars that helped it out, cut-up shorts, bleach-blonde hair, and skimpy bra tops. The guys were in swim shorts and white shirts-

I knew where they were going, so I followed them. I did it to prove myself, even though they didn't know I existed. They went to their usual spot, relaxing near the lake instead of swimming. They mostly cuddled with each other- while they were content and probably amid broken hearts, but living nonetheless. I was an immature child experiencing a summer of displeasure. So, I climbed the bridge capstone, connected between the lake and the building where the party was. I stood at the edge staring at the swaying water. In my mind, I reasoned that if I jumped in swimming to them, they'd think I was awesome and let me join them-

I was so stupid, but I did it. I jumped. Hitting the water so hard, I immediately struggled to stay above water. I wasn't even sure if the teens saw me. I relentlessly breathe in the water, feeling it burn in my nose and throat. It hurt like hell-

I saw something swim my way. Their eyes barely open, puffing cheeks from holding their breath, but I black out before they reach me. When I came to, the teens surrounded me. The girls were crying along with my parents. The ambulance finally showed up, putting me in the back, and I lifted my head before they closed the door, seeing you walking away in the woods, disappearing." I ended my confession and fell into silence.

"You were so close." My possessor whispered, planting himself next to me, closing the distance. "Your soul detached from your body, staring at me. You were beyond saving." He looked at me with careful eyes.

'So you saved me?"

"I did nothing. I allowed you to play with the lights flashing from the emergency vehicle. People who have near-death experiences are why they can see me, but their souls are never detached. You were ready, but- eventually, you returned to your body."

"Why not collect my soul?"

"It wasn't your time."

"Is that why I am your confidant?" I asked, but nothing, and I let it be, tapping my thumbs together. Why won't he tell me?

"Anyway, my parents kept a tight leash on me after that. Not to down them, but playtime wasn't a part of my routine growing up. They said it's a time and place for playtime. They promised if I focused on school for nine months, my reward would be to unwind in the summer. I wanted to get the most out of that vacation, but it was more than I bargained for- another reason I became an actress-

It was interesting to see on stage pretending to be someone else- the ultimate dress-up time for little girls like myself." I chuckled, scratching the bridge of my nose. "Sorry, I've been rambling this entire time."

"It's fine. I like to hear you talk."

"Based on what you said earlier, I doubt you want to hear about my acting career."

"Humans are ever-changing. I'm starting to understand that more. I was speaking about your feelings, but hearing you talk with passion. It's fascinating that human emotions are fleeting as well. There is so much I need to learn."

We gaze at each other long enough for the moon to be covered twice. Fireworks popped, flickering in the room, and made me jump- turning to watch them. I forgot about the festival this weekend. I didn't know how close we were to the city.

"One more question." I turned to my possessor. "What is the warlock after?"

"He is trying to close the gate so the souls can't pass."

"Why?"

"To live for eternity."

"Can he?"

"If he closes the gate, the souls will haunt the earth and eat the flesh of humans to multiply for a takeover."

"But you're the Angel of death. Can you stop it?"

"I am limited to this world. I can only harvest souls. I need you as my confidant because you are human and have no limits. Possessing your body is the way."

"Oh, is that why you kept me alive?" I countered him again until I learned the truth. He didn't say anything but stood up, gazing at the fireworks.

"You have one more question to answer. Your name?"

"I am Psychopomp II, the Harpy."

"How many are there?"

"Seven."

"Who are they?"

"You should get some rest. We have plenty of human days to converse about the supernatural creatures who lead souls to the afterlife."

"Can I name you, at least?"

"I have a name."

"Yeah, but it's the name of your species."

"Sure, Doe."

"Arum." I smiled. "It's a purplish black lily. It means purity, faithfulness, innocence, and holiness. I feel it suits you." I added as His eyes tenderly darkened another human emotion I witnessed. He gave me one last look with those eyes that could break the world's heart and made his way out of the church door.

***

Thank you for reading.