On Clipped Wings

On Clipped Wings

  By Natalie Fields

  Published by Publications Circulations LLC.

  SmashWords Edition

  All contents copyright (C) 2014 by Publications Circulations LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, companies and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

  The following story is for entertainment purposes only. This book contains sexually graphic scenes depicting consenting adults above the age of 18 engaging in passionate sexual acts. This story is intended only for persons over the legal adult age. By downloading and opening this document, you are stating that you are of legal age to access and view this work of fiction. Mature readers only. Reader discretion is advised.

  Limit of Liability and Disclaimer of Warranty:

  The publisher has used its best efforts in preparing this book, and the information provided herein is provided "as is." Publications Circulations LLC makes no representation or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaims any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for any particular purpose and shall in no event be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damage, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  1.

  THE man opened his eyes carefully. Something bright hurt them, something that he was unaccustomed to experiencing. It took a few seconds for the blurriness to leave him and to allow his vision to clear.

  But even then, things didn't make sense. Where was he? What was this thing he was lying upon? Why was there only silence interspersed with loud displeasing noises? There should be the soothing and uplifting sounds of the most beautiful music ever made. What happened? Why was his mind seemed very hazy and slow?

  Then a soft and gentle male voice emanated from across the room.

  "Are you awake, my son?"

  Lifting his head just enough to see who spoke to him, he could just make out the shape of a man sitting in a chair by the small table under a large window.

  "Where am I?" he asked. "Who are you?"

  "Everything will become clear to you very shortly," the man replied. HIs voice could tell he was smiling, even when there seemed to be a sad quality to the sound, too.

  Laying his head back down, the man blinked several times and then realized that a rather odd light coming from the table beside the bed was causing the discomfort to his eyes. Yes, he had figured out that he was on a bed. That light must be a lamp, he decided, a device used by humans to see. Somehow, he knew that he hadn't needed lamps in order to find his way before. So why now? And he still didn't understand what was going on with all of those sporadic noises he kept hearing.

  Forcing himself to relax so he could think back to what had happened, he started to slowly regain his memory. There was an argument about his behavior, and then a judgment that said he was going to be in a situation that would help him understand the fatal mistake behind his attitude that brought him in contempt in a court in the first place.

  And then he was here in this uncomfortable and very unattractive place. Was this the situation that was talked about?

  Finally, he felt well enough to sit up. There were some nearly flat pillows behind him and it gave him a bit more balance. Looking at the man sitting in the chair, he was starting to have a gradual realization as to this man's identity, though he was wearing the human body of an elderly man with compassionate eyes. He was the only one who could use the body of the coldest criminal and the compassion in him would still emanate through the eyes.

  A feeling of dread grew within him as he realized a few more things about his "situation".

  This wasn't his body. Even though he had not looked in a mirror, he could look down at himself and see that there was nothing familiar about this corporeal form in which he was currently encased.

  Horror-struck, he sat upright and frantically put his hands behind him to touch his upper back.

  There was nothing there. Something was missing there. It was gone with vital parts of his memory.

  What was it? What?

  It's your whole life.

  And indeed, he suddenly felt a blackness... an emptiness that was as huge as the universe, and it was not with him anymore. A whole universe of identity. And this was what he had become.

  Next thing he knew, he was trying to stand up as he cried for something so vital, even though he could not remember. But that was a major failure. There was a severe sensation of imbalance and he only managed to fall back down to the bed instead of on the floor. He also felt a sudden pain in his stomach that he couldn't identify. Some weird rumbling noises went along with the pain.

  Pressing his hand to his abdomen, he looked again to the man sitting across the room and quietly watching his failures. Why hadn't he said anything else yet?

  2.

  "WHO are you? What's happened to me?" he finally asked, his voice hoarse, through his suspicions and fear. He vaguely felt that he wasn't someone who would easily get scared of anything, but at that moment, his whole body was shaking with it.

  "Who I am isn't as important as who you are now," the man replied in that soft, almost melodious voice. "First of all, I'll answer the questions that are of primary importance to you. As we go along, you may ask more questions that may come to you."

  He couldn't help but nod as his hand massaged his stomach. He just knew that there was no crossing this man, even though there was a question if the god of compassion ever gets angry. I am a creature of patience. I am a creature of obedience. I obey. At least that, I am certain. And so he waited.

  "You will need to know your name," the man said. "From this moment on, you shall be called Alexander Sage."

  "Alexander Sage..." the man now known as Alexander repeated, frowning. "But that doesn't feel right."

  "That's because for an infinite amount of time, you carried another name. But that name is in the past now, something that your present tongue couldn't even begin to pronounce. You will be known by this new name."

  "Alright," Alexander replied rather slowly. A mission... I'm on a mission. The new name is part of this mission. I have to know more. "Who am I? Where did I come from?"

  "We will get to the part of your origin in a moment. For now, you must keep in mind that you are Alexander Sage. You have been provided with all of the appropriate documents that you will need for identification. Before I depart, you will also be possession with a set of memories that will help you to get by until you have learned it all. Do you understand so far?"

  "I think so," Alexander said. "I'm just not clear on where I came from and why I am in this room. Can you tell me?"

  "Of course I can, son," the man replied. "The part of you that you feel is missing from your body is something that you've literally had forever."

  "What? What?" he asked, not daring to believe it.

  "Alexander Sage, you... are missing... your wings."

  3.

  "EXCUSE me?" Alexander choked out. "My what?" Was that what I was looking for? Was that what I don't have now on my back?

  "Your wings," the man replied patiently. "That is why you had such trouble with your balance when you tried to stand."

  "Why did I have wings?" Alexander almost shouted. He was suddenly angry. He had wings! What was he? What was
he? And what am I now?

  "They generally go along with being an angel," the man replied in such a casual tone that made him feel ashamed of his uncontrollable emotions. "Except in special cases where it becomes necessary to clip those wings. In fact, that's what has happened to you, Alexander."

  "Wait a minute," Alexander said as he put his hand to his head and massaged his temples. "So far you've told me that my name is now Alexander Sage and that I used to have wings because I was an angel?"

  "That's correct."

  "This makes no sense! There are no such things as angels! Now tell me immediately who I really am!"

  The man in the chair sighed deeply and looked down at his folded hands. Then he looked back at Alexander. "There are such things as angels and you used to be one. Your mind just don't have the capacity to remember... but you know it. Your soul knows it. And you're going to have to adjust with this instinctive knowledge for the next few months."

  Alexander was about to reply in the negative but, suddenly, a pain ripped through his head and there, an intensely clear vision took place. He was arguing with someone. He was tall and weightless, and he was quite arrogant. The place where he stood was bright, almost blindingly so, but he had no problems with that. He just knew this light had been a part of his existence since forever. There was the most amazing music coming from somewhere; voices that could not be more perfect in their harmony and beauty. As he looked around in the vision, he could see other beings standing at a safe distance from the disagreement in which he seemed to be embroiled. They were all indescribably beautiful and wearing pristine, pure white robes of some sort.

  And on their backs were folded wings.

  Even though this was impossible to take in, Alexander knew that what he was seeing was true. He was an angel, or had been one. At this point, he assumed that the argument had something to do with why he was now in this ugly room in a different body with no wings.

  "Ah, I see that you are starting to remember," said the man in the chair. "Do you also remember why you are here now?"

  "Not exactly," Alexander replied haltingly, wincing as he did so. His head now suffered from a terrible ache because of that vision. "Something about an argument?"

  "Yes," the man said in sad voice. "It was an argument; one that had been going on for a long time. I finally grew tired and weary of having the same argument with you all the time. So I made the very difficult decision to let you learn the answers for yourself."

  As Alexander let this new information sink in, something else suddenly occurred to him. It was something about humans.

  Humans?

  Oh no, he thought. No.

  Realization hit and he began making an anguished howl that went on for a few minutes until he was hoarse from the efforts. Still, he continued to try to cry out in horror, but could no longer make any sound.

  4.

  "I see that you have realized what took place," the man said. "Is it truly hard to believe that this has become the consequence for your actions?"

  Alexander took hands wet with his own tears from his face. Of course, he knew. But he had been so arrogant... so arrogant.... No matter what his views, he had had no right to question the Father.

  "In case you have any doubts about your current situation, Alexander, let me assure you that you are now, indeed, a human male. You see, that was the argument that we had until I grew weary of it. Your massive ego left you no room for any compassion for those beings less fortunate than you. Constantly, you challenged me for being what I am, for continuing to be patiently punished for that which sustains me. Why do I bother with these pesky, inferior humans, you asked. When I can be something more. You see, I cannot be something more or less. I am who I am. And I am who I am from the beginning until the end of eternity.

  "But you will never truly understand until you experience who I am. And then maybe, you will finally have a