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Enoch Stone is a man highly suspicious of organized religion. For a few years he's been compiling information and doing research. The things he has uncovered convince him that for the past two thousand years, those who lead the Catholic Church have done so with such a callous disregard for truth and accountability they no longer possess any moral or spiritual authority.
Knowing he is need of assistance, an angel steps in to help. Nora (from Gears of Uriel and Tyrian) comes into Enoch's life, revealing that not only is she there to help him, but has also been watching over him his entire life.
There is a great and profound reality, almost forgotten by the world, that must be brought out of the shadows and back into view. And yet this noble cause is fraught with terrible danger.
Some truths are so pure, darkness will do anything to hide them.
Once again Enoch woke from a dream. The blue numbers on the clock said 6:43AM, but the thick drapes kept almost all the light and so the room was almost pitch black. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the point where dark outlines were visible. His mind still felt like dreamy sleep, the cool and comfortable feel of sheets against his bare skin, the blankets giving weight and warmth.
Just inches away, he could hear her slowly breathing and he knew that reaching over just a few inches he would feel Nora's bare hip. If he let his hand go there he knew she would respond. He wanted to lie here all day, his body wrapped around hers, but there had been another dream that must be at least written down before he forgot it. This one involved her, and he wanted to ponder it alone. Reluctantly his hand retreated from her warmth and he rolled, dropped his legs over the edge and rose, surprising himself that he'd pulled it off silently without jostling the mattress. Quietly he grabbed his bathrobe from the hook on the bathroom door and made his way down the hall to the kitchen and the coffee maker, ready to fill his mug.
Back over to his desk, Enoch found a sketch pad, grabbed a can filled with colored pencils and sat down at the kitchen table. Taking a sip of coffee, he started roughing out a picture. In his dream he'd seen Nora, standing in front of him, relaxed, nude, smiling. A few more lines and the body shape looked right. Pausing, his eyes lingered a bit, remembering. Flipping the pencil, he erased a spot, tried again, and satisfied, began sketching her face. Surprisingly he got that spot on with little effort; perhaps that art class wasn't a waste of money after all.
And then, behind her he started to draw the rest; then paused. The dream…he struggled to remember…there were...shapes, swooping up, billowy, curving at the ends like…yes, coming to points on either sides; what in the world were those?
Setting the pencil down Enoch studied the drawing, fighting the fog that was clouding the dissipating vision. Another sip of coffee and he rubbed the stubble on his chin. What was he trying to create here? Reaching again for the coffee mug, he bumped the pencil and it rolled off the table onto the floor. Bending over, he grabbed it, sat back up and there was Nora, nude beside him, in a chair. He jumped.
"Good morning, Enoch."
"Shit, Nora, you startled me. How did you do that?"
With head resting on left hand, elbow on the table, she reached over with her right index finger, casually gesturing at the picture. "They're wings…"
"You don't care much for clothes, do you?"
"I can take them or leave them," she smiled.
"Not that I mind." He winked. "Wait, you said they're wings?"
"This is from a dream I had last night."
He looked at her askance. "You say that so matter-of-factly. What color were the wings, then?"
Reaching over, she pawed through the colored pencils he'd dumped out, pulling out a very dark blue one and a deep violet shade and set them down in front of him. "Sort of a mixture of these two colors, but you don't have a pencil quite the right color, because the color is both very dark and very bright…unless you have one in ultraviolet; which I rather doubt."
Chapter 2: Dreams & Angels