Chapter One: Threads Strung

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothing.

A sudden pain sliced at the border collie/seagull anthro's throat and then the muzzle and head of him.

/I thought I was dead! W-What is this? I was killed under the Angel's Bridge…/

A strange, multi-sexed voice sounded: /Indeed you were. Quiet, Smee… Now let me sting you up./

/String me up?/

/Quiet now, you are not alive, nor are you truly dead… All will be explained after!/

Pain sliced each winged wrist and joint up to the shoulders. More of the similar sensation took up the anthro hybrid's hips down, each joint feeling as if steel wire had cut into them. A distant sensation of blood running out of Smee's body came upon him – draining him.

Again the cutting-wire feel took up the male, this time the searing pain came over every vertebrae in his body, then every bone.

For whatever reason pain registered to him, it felt like he was being pulled apart and put back together under the flame of a welding torch. He wanted to scream, and the pain in his jawbone increased at the thought.

/Stop moving, you idiot!/

/I'm not-/

/Well, keep your thoughts down till your eyes have come back…/

/Come back?/

/Quiet!/

Silence prevailed, and only the burning sensation kept him company in the darkness. Smee began to wonder how this was possible, but the though drifted unanswered. Then, slowly, a faint grayish tint replaced the black.

Shadows formed. Color and sound came back to the hybrid, but was muffled, stupefied.

"Smee?"

A tugging on the joints of his neck and shoulders occurred, and his head was raised. The joints burned as they rolled and his head moved to face a figure glowing with a pale, silvery aura – quite painful to see at first. "Yes…?" He responded, his jaws taking the burning feel with full intensity.

Attempting to choke with his pain, he found no need for breath – nor the ability to breathe. His odd blue and brown eyed gaze shifted to the Angel before him. Smee struggled for a moment, before exhaustion and restraints bound him to an elaborate chair.

"No longer are you dead, nor are you alive. In ways you are undead, shot down on the bridge to the afterlife and hanging by your nails…" The white haired hermaphrodite snickered for a moment. "Ah, though what you are called is similar to that of a Marionette – a heavenly Doll, to be precise/."

The angel put a white gloved finger to the Hybrid Doll's chin, drawing it up so that Smee was forced to look at the being whom controlled him. "Don't be so down, hybrid. You have wings... Those similar to your father's, but wings nonetheless. Our heavenly Lord will be pleased with you come Judgment Day, Smee. The strings you bear – bear them with Pride," the Angel soothed, pulling out a small ceremonial knife and slitting both their wrists, and pressing the bloody wounds together.

At that instant, the hybrid let out a bone-chilling scream, the pain in his voice worse than the souls of those held in Purgatory. As holy blood mixed with Smee's own, a mantra played in his mind – no, more of a poem or song it seemed…

Let soul spill with blade,

Cleanse thee with thy flame.

Mortal's desire,

Extinguish in fire.

Sins of thy Devils,

Scythes of thy Reaper,

Let vanish in cleansing,

Let thy Lord be thine Shepherd,

Come Final judgment Day.

The song-like poem repeated once more and Smee's screams had ceased to sound. Instead, whimpers left the Doll's jaws and hushing noises came from the Angel, whom stroked pale fingers through Smee's soft orange hair.

"Rest. But first, I have a bit of a change for you. Your last name, I see you have none. In honor of my former mentor's beloved Drossel, you shall inherit his last name: Keinz. You may prove worthy of it soon enough."

"Yes, Master."

"I /do/ own a name, my bloody Marionette."

"Eh?..."

"Don't 'Eh' me, Keinz…"

Smee flinched back against the chair he was restrained in, cringing further as the sensation of each joint being moved resulted in severe pain. Before he could cry out, his jaws were held shut by the Angel's white gloved hand. "Don't /speak/, Hybrid. The name you will refer to me as would be Veuliam Roland."

Smee managed a painful nod when the Angell freed his muzzle.

"Now sleep, Doll."