Disclaimer - I don't own Edward or any other characters featuring in the
film "Edward Scissorhands." However, Mike and any new characters belong to
me.
I am not giving you a synopsis because it would spoil the story. Just that it takes place after the conclusion of the film, but not too far in the distant future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel Tears
Chapter 1 - Visitors
The lounge clock read 11:30 pm. Mike Taylor awoke from a heavy doze so suddenly he upset his coffee. Brown stains spread in veins across the table, from the remains of his dinner to the neatly stacked papers and folders at his side. In a matter of seconds, the destruction was complete.
"Great! That's tonight's paperwork ruined!"
He started mopping up the mess, which had by then spread to the sleeve of his jacket and tried, not very successfully, to control his temper:
"The boss will have my head for this! My job's on the line already!"
Managing to save some of the papers, he placed the rest on his heater to dry and went to the mirror to survey the damage.
A pale, too-thin face stared back at him. The eyes sunken in and ringed with dark circles. He was wearing his best work jacket, now drenched and stained, and as he removed his arm from the sleeve, long jagged scars were visible down his left arm. Still breathing heavily from the shock of awakening, he looked at his arm and winced.
"Don't have any more decent clothes. At least, I don't think I have."
He glanced round the apartment and the look on his face turned to one of despair. The single light was dingy and gave the room an old, library-like feel. Books and papers were strewn everywhere, from the table to the floor around the small television. The table itself was the nerve centre of mike's work. His job at the office required a lot of extra hours and being a junior they made sure he put the work in.
The yellowing wallpaper in the apartment's lounge was mostly covered by DIY shelves, filled to bursting with books of such an age they gave off a musty, timeless smell of their own. This was Mike's other work. his life and something he would give anything to save. There was barely room for one person in the tiny room, and the single cupboard in the living room was the only place where he could possibly have another suit for work.
As he expected, none of his other clothes would pass inspection at a moderately expensive restaurant. The sweatshirts were faded and old, the trousers worn and the shirts were in a variety of clashing colours. The wedding outfit he had that he might have been able to salvage he had lent to his father for a funeral, and everything was so creased his little iron would not have a chance.
Mike sighed and put his soaking jacket next to the heater.
"This had better be dry by tomorrow! Can't give them anything else to worry about."
In that, he could not be more right. The people at the office already had a great deal to discuss about good old Mike Taylor. Why at 20 with extremely good grades was he stuck in a cheap overworked office, why he never wore short sleeves and cool clothes even in the most vicious heat, why even though his salary was poor he should have definitely be able to afford a better pit than the one he lived in. Oh yes, they had plenty to talk about.
A sudden shooting pain in his head brought him out of his reverie and drew his eyes to the clock.
"11:30 already! Oh no I haven't finished those papers yet!"
He went over to the heater and looked at the still saturated documents. He cursed and went to sit back down in front of the television to wait for them to dry. Shortly after another pain in his head shot him out of his chair with a start.
"No! Not now!"
The pain in his head was getting worse, and his eyes refused to open all the way. Holding his head in his hands, he switched off the television and stumbled into the apartment's only bedroom. The doctor had warned him about his increased lack of sleep, and how if he didn't ease up he would very likely end up in the hospital. That didn't bother Mike Taylor, as long as he could continue his work. However, blinding headaches that caused him to pass out did not help in the slightest.
"Leave me alone just this once tonight let me rest oh God please leave me alone."
The pain was too bad for him to concentrate on what he was doing, he simply dropped onto the bed and fell instantly into a deep dreamless sleep.
******************
The bedside clock read 3:10am. The window of Mike Taylor's tiny bedroom was thrown open with such force it shook the pictures on the walls.
Mike lay on the bed and pulled the covers over his head, sobbing quietly.
"No, no please don't go away leave me alone."
The wind outside began to blow more strongly. However nothing outside moved so much as an inch. Mike sat up, hunched in a foetal position and stared in terror at the open window, the curtains fluttering gently as if blown by the mildest of breezes.
Outside the apartment, high in the sky, something was forming.
A soft glow broke out over the street. Above the buildings, a blue light began to shine softly. It pulsated gently, and appeared to draw things into itself, and as wisps of what looked like cloud gathered about it, it took on the shape of a living blue mist shot through with a thousand colours. As it moved it made a sound like the breath of wind through a chime, ethereal and yet so soft that no one stirred. Small yet complete, the mist blew and turned in the sky above until it seemed to take on a new purpose and flowed with ease through the open window of Mike Taylor.
As the mist entered his room, Mike let out a strangled scream and buried himself still deeper under his blankets, however, his eyes were still visible above, stark and full of fear.
As the mist entered the room, it divided and moved apart. Six separate mists hovered around Mike's bed. Then, they changed shape.
The mist flowed as if into invisible moulds. Faces, hands clothing appeared until what were standing in front of mike were not groups of mist but distinct figures. Each pale and partially transparent, and with a faint blue glow, but alert and aware. All looking at Mike with what seemed like unshakeable hope.
They were children.
As they formed they crowded closer, and Mike could see them more clearly. Four were boys of varying age, and the two girls looked as though they may be sisters. A boy who seemed the oldest of the six, although his features were strangely blank and smooth, walked forward until he stood at Mike's side. Mike was trembling uncontrollably, and his face was beaded with sweat.
"Please no. I can't." He whispered.
The boy looked sad for a moment, as if with pity - and then spoke:
"Help us."
Another boy stepped forward.
"My father hurts my mother. She is crying. Please save her and tell her everything will be alright."
"Please." Begged Mike. The boy only looked at him with determination in his eyes.
The two girls stepped forward and spoke as one, their voices echoing and whispering around Mike's brain.
"They said we were too much work. We helped but they didn't listen. They didn't want us anymore. Tell our grandmother what happened. She loved us very much before we died. Make our parents pay for what they did to us."
The two girls looked angry, yet their eyes were full of love for their grandmother. Mike hung his head and sobbed.
"I didn't ask for this. You haunt me every night. Why can I not have my own life? Please see that I cannot do this for you. I can't take it any more."
The girls looked startled, and one started forward. The older boy stopped her with a gesture, and turned to Mike again. This time his voice had a mint of malice.
Who else can we turn to? There is no one else. We are denied paradise and peace because of what happened to us. Why should we not make you do what we wish? The higher orders have accepted what has happened but we cannot. Why should we suffer, all of us, thousands upon thousands because you want to hold down a job?
Mike looked into the furious boys eyes and realised. This was no child. Hundreds of years ago he might have been, but now he was a desperate adult trapped as a child forever. Unless he could help.
"No. I can't." Again desperate, pleading.
"Very well." The older boy said.
"We will drive you mad."
The others nodded assent. Mike was too terrified to move. He sat and shivered and watched in horror as the children once more began to change. Unconsciously, his hand ran his fingers over the scars on his wrists.
The mist had once again merged together, becoming a writhing mass of tendrils. It grew larger and larger, and a sound could be heard. It reminded Mike of screaming children, which he realised, it probably was.
Then a bright flash of white light made Mike fling up a hand to shield his face. Something shot through the window right into the middle of the mist, scattering it in all directions. The white light stayed in the centre of the room, pulsing, as the blue mist once again became children.
Then, the while light changed too.
This time it was different, as if light became solid and three dimensional. It filled out and dimmed somewhat, but nevertheless when the brightness cleared another child stood in front of Mike's bed.
The other children were afraid of this one, though the anger was clear on their faces. One of the younger boy hissed and drew back as the white figure turned to look at him, and the others barley hid their hatred. Mike thought he heard the word "Guardian" muttered but the white figure showed no sign of having heard. It looked fully at Mike for the first time and He realised that this was a boy no older in appearance than six, though his eyes told different. He smiled a little sadly at Mike and whispered
"You are safe now."
Turning to the children, he made a slow, polite dismissing gesture.
"Do not return. Leave this man in peace."
Glaring and muttering, the children dissolved, and all that was left was the smell of a cold wind.
The figure turned once more to Mike, its tone of voice apologetic.
"I am sorry. They shouldn't have bothered you. How long has it been going on for?"
Mike gritted his teeth and managed to choke out
"Five years."
The boy looked shocked.
"How has it gone on so long? Perhaps the newly dead, but never the others.we would have forseen it."
Mike shrugged
"Don't ask me. I am just the mortal stuck in the middle of all this. No one has ever tried to explain to me before."
The boy still looked troubled. He came closer and laid a glowing hand on Mike's shoulder. A hand with no weight or mass but still with comfort.
"They will never trouble you again. And I will see to that myself. I cannot stop recent spirits, but they find their own way quickly. Especially the adults."
Mike's face broke into an exhausted smile.
"Really?"
The boy smiled.
"Yes. I can also help you. Call on us whenever you need help. You have always been able to do this and we will gladly help you. Especially me. It was partly my fault that this happened."
A shadow crossed the boys face, and he hung his head slightly. The glow dimmed and Mike turned to him in concern.
"What is it? What is wrong?"
The spirit looked embarrassed.
"I shouldn't know of the world, yet I cannot help but look out for my family. Memories are supposed to be lost, yet many retain them. I cannot stop thinking of my relatives and friends. Especially the brother I never had."
The sadness radiating from the boy was incredible. Mike felt his eyes fill with tears. Finally he spoke.
"Who are you? Where is your family?" Suddenly more than anything else in the world he wished to make the boy smile again.
The boy looked surprised, but started to explain.
"My father gave birth to me when he was very young. He never married, and my mother died shortly after my birth. He loved her dearly, and that nearly destroyed him. He was an inventor you see, he made great things. All simple pleasures could be found in his workshop. When she died we moved to a great castle on a hill where my father continued his work. He was angry at the real world and wanted to escape. It was all for me, me and him. His great wealth made sure he didn't need to work."
The boy stopped, and Mike looked up questioningly. The boy stared at him with shining eyes.
"And then, I died. Pneumonia. Even my fathers great love could not save me."
Mike hung his head. He asked
"Where is your father now?"
The boy smiled again, and Mike saw for the first time, pure love.
"He is at peace. His loving work and child-like innocence offered him eternal paradise."
Mike was puzzled.
"But then.who...?"
"My father had one more child, though no child like anything on this earth. A man of such innocence and love he is condemned to spend eternity alone. Immortal, and unfinished. His name is Edward and he is the brother I never had."
The boy closed his eyes and a single glowing tear ran down his face.
"He lives in the castle all alone. My father died before Edward was finished. Once, he tried to leave, but he was hounded and chased through the streets. We were not permitted to interfere, me least of all."
Mike started.
"They chased him? Human beings chased a helpless child through the streets? That couldn't be real!"
The child spoke bitterly
"It was very real, and it was my brother they chased like an animal. Those fools did that to my brother!"
Mike sat up straight in his bed, a new look of determination in his eyes.
"Where is the castle? I will find him and protect him. I promise you that."
The boy's eyes lit up
"You would do that? For me? After all your suffering you would assist one of us?"
Mike nodded.
"You have freed me and helping you is my way of saying thanks. Besides, I have been alone for years. Both I and Edward need friends more than anything."
The boy agreed. His voice becoming more excited.
"Tell him about me. My name is Jonathan. The castle is near the suburbs of this very city. It is on a hill. Thank you so much..."
Suddenly the light around the boy grew brighter and his form began to fade.
" I must go now. Do not forget to call on us for help. You will know how. Thank you so much for helping me. I will never forget your kindness."
The light pulsed once more and Mike once again covered his eyes. Then it was gone, and there was no sound but the wind rustling the curtains at the open window. Mike looked at the bedside clock.
It was 11:35pm.
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Hope you liked it! Please review, constructive criticism always welcome. =D Next chapter will be out as soon as possible.
I am not giving you a synopsis because it would spoil the story. Just that it takes place after the conclusion of the film, but not too far in the distant future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel Tears
Chapter 1 - Visitors
The lounge clock read 11:30 pm. Mike Taylor awoke from a heavy doze so suddenly he upset his coffee. Brown stains spread in veins across the table, from the remains of his dinner to the neatly stacked papers and folders at his side. In a matter of seconds, the destruction was complete.
"Great! That's tonight's paperwork ruined!"
He started mopping up the mess, which had by then spread to the sleeve of his jacket and tried, not very successfully, to control his temper:
"The boss will have my head for this! My job's on the line already!"
Managing to save some of the papers, he placed the rest on his heater to dry and went to the mirror to survey the damage.
A pale, too-thin face stared back at him. The eyes sunken in and ringed with dark circles. He was wearing his best work jacket, now drenched and stained, and as he removed his arm from the sleeve, long jagged scars were visible down his left arm. Still breathing heavily from the shock of awakening, he looked at his arm and winced.
"Don't have any more decent clothes. At least, I don't think I have."
He glanced round the apartment and the look on his face turned to one of despair. The single light was dingy and gave the room an old, library-like feel. Books and papers were strewn everywhere, from the table to the floor around the small television. The table itself was the nerve centre of mike's work. His job at the office required a lot of extra hours and being a junior they made sure he put the work in.
The yellowing wallpaper in the apartment's lounge was mostly covered by DIY shelves, filled to bursting with books of such an age they gave off a musty, timeless smell of their own. This was Mike's other work. his life and something he would give anything to save. There was barely room for one person in the tiny room, and the single cupboard in the living room was the only place where he could possibly have another suit for work.
As he expected, none of his other clothes would pass inspection at a moderately expensive restaurant. The sweatshirts were faded and old, the trousers worn and the shirts were in a variety of clashing colours. The wedding outfit he had that he might have been able to salvage he had lent to his father for a funeral, and everything was so creased his little iron would not have a chance.
Mike sighed and put his soaking jacket next to the heater.
"This had better be dry by tomorrow! Can't give them anything else to worry about."
In that, he could not be more right. The people at the office already had a great deal to discuss about good old Mike Taylor. Why at 20 with extremely good grades was he stuck in a cheap overworked office, why he never wore short sleeves and cool clothes even in the most vicious heat, why even though his salary was poor he should have definitely be able to afford a better pit than the one he lived in. Oh yes, they had plenty to talk about.
A sudden shooting pain in his head brought him out of his reverie and drew his eyes to the clock.
"11:30 already! Oh no I haven't finished those papers yet!"
He went over to the heater and looked at the still saturated documents. He cursed and went to sit back down in front of the television to wait for them to dry. Shortly after another pain in his head shot him out of his chair with a start.
"No! Not now!"
The pain in his head was getting worse, and his eyes refused to open all the way. Holding his head in his hands, he switched off the television and stumbled into the apartment's only bedroom. The doctor had warned him about his increased lack of sleep, and how if he didn't ease up he would very likely end up in the hospital. That didn't bother Mike Taylor, as long as he could continue his work. However, blinding headaches that caused him to pass out did not help in the slightest.
"Leave me alone just this once tonight let me rest oh God please leave me alone."
The pain was too bad for him to concentrate on what he was doing, he simply dropped onto the bed and fell instantly into a deep dreamless sleep.
******************
The bedside clock read 3:10am. The window of Mike Taylor's tiny bedroom was thrown open with such force it shook the pictures on the walls.
Mike lay on the bed and pulled the covers over his head, sobbing quietly.
"No, no please don't go away leave me alone."
The wind outside began to blow more strongly. However nothing outside moved so much as an inch. Mike sat up, hunched in a foetal position and stared in terror at the open window, the curtains fluttering gently as if blown by the mildest of breezes.
Outside the apartment, high in the sky, something was forming.
A soft glow broke out over the street. Above the buildings, a blue light began to shine softly. It pulsated gently, and appeared to draw things into itself, and as wisps of what looked like cloud gathered about it, it took on the shape of a living blue mist shot through with a thousand colours. As it moved it made a sound like the breath of wind through a chime, ethereal and yet so soft that no one stirred. Small yet complete, the mist blew and turned in the sky above until it seemed to take on a new purpose and flowed with ease through the open window of Mike Taylor.
As the mist entered his room, Mike let out a strangled scream and buried himself still deeper under his blankets, however, his eyes were still visible above, stark and full of fear.
As the mist entered the room, it divided and moved apart. Six separate mists hovered around Mike's bed. Then, they changed shape.
The mist flowed as if into invisible moulds. Faces, hands clothing appeared until what were standing in front of mike were not groups of mist but distinct figures. Each pale and partially transparent, and with a faint blue glow, but alert and aware. All looking at Mike with what seemed like unshakeable hope.
They were children.
As they formed they crowded closer, and Mike could see them more clearly. Four were boys of varying age, and the two girls looked as though they may be sisters. A boy who seemed the oldest of the six, although his features were strangely blank and smooth, walked forward until he stood at Mike's side. Mike was trembling uncontrollably, and his face was beaded with sweat.
"Please no. I can't." He whispered.
The boy looked sad for a moment, as if with pity - and then spoke:
"Help us."
Another boy stepped forward.
"My father hurts my mother. She is crying. Please save her and tell her everything will be alright."
"Please." Begged Mike. The boy only looked at him with determination in his eyes.
The two girls stepped forward and spoke as one, their voices echoing and whispering around Mike's brain.
"They said we were too much work. We helped but they didn't listen. They didn't want us anymore. Tell our grandmother what happened. She loved us very much before we died. Make our parents pay for what they did to us."
The two girls looked angry, yet their eyes were full of love for their grandmother. Mike hung his head and sobbed.
"I didn't ask for this. You haunt me every night. Why can I not have my own life? Please see that I cannot do this for you. I can't take it any more."
The girls looked startled, and one started forward. The older boy stopped her with a gesture, and turned to Mike again. This time his voice had a mint of malice.
Who else can we turn to? There is no one else. We are denied paradise and peace because of what happened to us. Why should we not make you do what we wish? The higher orders have accepted what has happened but we cannot. Why should we suffer, all of us, thousands upon thousands because you want to hold down a job?
Mike looked into the furious boys eyes and realised. This was no child. Hundreds of years ago he might have been, but now he was a desperate adult trapped as a child forever. Unless he could help.
"No. I can't." Again desperate, pleading.
"Very well." The older boy said.
"We will drive you mad."
The others nodded assent. Mike was too terrified to move. He sat and shivered and watched in horror as the children once more began to change. Unconsciously, his hand ran his fingers over the scars on his wrists.
The mist had once again merged together, becoming a writhing mass of tendrils. It grew larger and larger, and a sound could be heard. It reminded Mike of screaming children, which he realised, it probably was.
Then a bright flash of white light made Mike fling up a hand to shield his face. Something shot through the window right into the middle of the mist, scattering it in all directions. The white light stayed in the centre of the room, pulsing, as the blue mist once again became children.
Then, the while light changed too.
This time it was different, as if light became solid and three dimensional. It filled out and dimmed somewhat, but nevertheless when the brightness cleared another child stood in front of Mike's bed.
The other children were afraid of this one, though the anger was clear on their faces. One of the younger boy hissed and drew back as the white figure turned to look at him, and the others barley hid their hatred. Mike thought he heard the word "Guardian" muttered but the white figure showed no sign of having heard. It looked fully at Mike for the first time and He realised that this was a boy no older in appearance than six, though his eyes told different. He smiled a little sadly at Mike and whispered
"You are safe now."
Turning to the children, he made a slow, polite dismissing gesture.
"Do not return. Leave this man in peace."
Glaring and muttering, the children dissolved, and all that was left was the smell of a cold wind.
The figure turned once more to Mike, its tone of voice apologetic.
"I am sorry. They shouldn't have bothered you. How long has it been going on for?"
Mike gritted his teeth and managed to choke out
"Five years."
The boy looked shocked.
"How has it gone on so long? Perhaps the newly dead, but never the others.we would have forseen it."
Mike shrugged
"Don't ask me. I am just the mortal stuck in the middle of all this. No one has ever tried to explain to me before."
The boy still looked troubled. He came closer and laid a glowing hand on Mike's shoulder. A hand with no weight or mass but still with comfort.
"They will never trouble you again. And I will see to that myself. I cannot stop recent spirits, but they find their own way quickly. Especially the adults."
Mike's face broke into an exhausted smile.
"Really?"
The boy smiled.
"Yes. I can also help you. Call on us whenever you need help. You have always been able to do this and we will gladly help you. Especially me. It was partly my fault that this happened."
A shadow crossed the boys face, and he hung his head slightly. The glow dimmed and Mike turned to him in concern.
"What is it? What is wrong?"
The spirit looked embarrassed.
"I shouldn't know of the world, yet I cannot help but look out for my family. Memories are supposed to be lost, yet many retain them. I cannot stop thinking of my relatives and friends. Especially the brother I never had."
The sadness radiating from the boy was incredible. Mike felt his eyes fill with tears. Finally he spoke.
"Who are you? Where is your family?" Suddenly more than anything else in the world he wished to make the boy smile again.
The boy looked surprised, but started to explain.
"My father gave birth to me when he was very young. He never married, and my mother died shortly after my birth. He loved her dearly, and that nearly destroyed him. He was an inventor you see, he made great things. All simple pleasures could be found in his workshop. When she died we moved to a great castle on a hill where my father continued his work. He was angry at the real world and wanted to escape. It was all for me, me and him. His great wealth made sure he didn't need to work."
The boy stopped, and Mike looked up questioningly. The boy stared at him with shining eyes.
"And then, I died. Pneumonia. Even my fathers great love could not save me."
Mike hung his head. He asked
"Where is your father now?"
The boy smiled again, and Mike saw for the first time, pure love.
"He is at peace. His loving work and child-like innocence offered him eternal paradise."
Mike was puzzled.
"But then.who...?"
"My father had one more child, though no child like anything on this earth. A man of such innocence and love he is condemned to spend eternity alone. Immortal, and unfinished. His name is Edward and he is the brother I never had."
The boy closed his eyes and a single glowing tear ran down his face.
"He lives in the castle all alone. My father died before Edward was finished. Once, he tried to leave, but he was hounded and chased through the streets. We were not permitted to interfere, me least of all."
Mike started.
"They chased him? Human beings chased a helpless child through the streets? That couldn't be real!"
The child spoke bitterly
"It was very real, and it was my brother they chased like an animal. Those fools did that to my brother!"
Mike sat up straight in his bed, a new look of determination in his eyes.
"Where is the castle? I will find him and protect him. I promise you that."
The boy's eyes lit up
"You would do that? For me? After all your suffering you would assist one of us?"
Mike nodded.
"You have freed me and helping you is my way of saying thanks. Besides, I have been alone for years. Both I and Edward need friends more than anything."
The boy agreed. His voice becoming more excited.
"Tell him about me. My name is Jonathan. The castle is near the suburbs of this very city. It is on a hill. Thank you so much..."
Suddenly the light around the boy grew brighter and his form began to fade.
" I must go now. Do not forget to call on us for help. You will know how. Thank you so much for helping me. I will never forget your kindness."
The light pulsed once more and Mike once again covered his eyes. Then it was gone, and there was no sound but the wind rustling the curtains at the open window. Mike looked at the bedside clock.
It was 11:35pm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hope you liked it! Please review, constructive criticism always welcome. =D Next chapter will be out as soon as possible.