Date: November 16th, 2000 Another fanfic by me. A loopy one, but this was a mid-day occurance for once. I hope that you all enjoy it. As you all know, I do not own forever knight nor do I make any money from this. Blah. Have fun everyone! Author's comment after the fic, wee bit o' cussing at the end. Whoever wants to archive, ask unless you are either a) Fkfanfic.com b) FTP site or c) Fanfictioncentral.net Sing To Angels Vanity is the greatest sin (01/01) *My grave, Not yet cold, Has bound me to this Earth I crumble in my fingertips* There were lights coming from a far away place. "Come to us my dear, dear boy. We have been waiting for you for so long." The voice reminded him of pain for some reason. The brightness seemed cold and far too bright. It hurt his eyes. Turning away from this light he ran and ran to the warm, dark, safe place that said. "We understand, we want you to live. Power? It shall be yours, eternally. Just step this way and all will be made clear." The blonde man took another step in that direction. *A spark of life!* Opening his eyes, the man found that he was still alive. He should be dead, the bullet should have killed him and yet it did not. Why? *My mind is half gone from jeers Out of nameless faces.* There were no answers here. Only sound and light, colours blurring together to make a shape that was vaguely human. *Those I knew are strangers now.* A demon with his face hovered over him. No, not his face. This was someone else. It wasn't him was it? Did he know this blonde man? The soft light filtered through the shades of auburn hair. A woman. She smelled of death and roses. Apple pies fresh from the oven, set on the windowsill to cool like when he was a child. His grandmother... Grandmother? Had he ever had a grandmother? No, she was called something else... *Leering taunts replace my fond memories* The voices were distorted, like a record that was being played backwards. Wasn't that how Satan worshippers sent out subliminal messages to the masses? But who had told him that? A woman, with dark blonde hair formed in his mind and he suddenly felt a longing to be with her. *Slowly, slowly I breathe* He inhaled. That smell of roses and apple pies came to him again. So hungry! He couldn't take it. He wanted to grab the woman and rip her chest open to see if her heart was an oven that pumped these lovely smells into the air. And if he licked up the blood that welled in that cavity he would taste those apples? Blood? Blood... it was being poured into his mouth but it didn't taste like apples or roses. It tasted like grass and warm milk, dead silence in his mind. *Faster, faster rapid heart* A drumbeat, loud and quick sounded near his head. Someone was picking up his hand and holding his wrist. One beat, two beats, three and four. So close, so close, so close, the beat seemed to say. To pick up the hand that held his and squeeze all of that lovely juice out of it. Silence, the fingers brushing back his hair. *Angels with forked tongues sing lessons to me.* The blonde man was talking. Giving instruction or so it seemed. It was so hard to concentrate on the words. "Must drink blood now." "No sunlight, it will kill you." It sounded like child speak. High-pitched, but then it got very deep and slowed down considerably. The messages are backwards, I can't listen to them or I will stray from God. What would God have me do? Should I listen to this record that is telling me to kill others and stay out of the light? No. They are wrong. Everyone is wrong. I alone can save them. They promised me power to do good! And I will do good. *I disdain their words* The miles of red river streched through his mind. He could swim in it if he wanted to. Why was there so much noise? Screaming and screaming. Thunder from all around him. If he tightened his fists around the large, dirty man before him would the thunder stop? Why did his chest cave in like that? I was only trying to make him listen to me. Didn't he know that what he did was wrong? The muscle gleamed in the sodium light that shone upon the pavement. Still, not moving. The once beating heart had stopped. Was it supposed to be showing like that? This man was dead! Dead! He had killed a man with his bare hands! Not his gun or his stick, but his hands! *Vainly taught, vainly heard.* "Oh God in Heaven help me!" The tow-headed man cried out to the throbbing city. Whirling around and around, he fell to the ground and lay there. How long the darkness held him in her sweet, warm arms. He would never remember. But there was silence, all except the beat of one drum. One drum seemed so... quiet. And small, like a kitten in a tree. It didn't persist and bother. But then two drums. Two drums could grow to annoy someone. Boom boom, thump thump bangbang bangbang. Two different rhythms, going against each other. Twisting around in his brain, rubbing the gray matter till it was raw from want and need. Feed.....feed.... feedfeed....feedfeed..... *Human more than I. More love than I deserve.* Opening his eyes, the man was not much aware of what was going on around him. It was if someone else had control of his body and was making it dance and sing to a tune he had never heard. The atrocities! The dreams that he had had. The blood, shimmering and dancing on the floor. He would right everything, he would now have the power that they had promised him. Never would someone die because they couldn't protect themselves. He would save them all. After all, Richard Lambert is a good man. Authors comments: I wrote this as a sort of explination of what was going on in the head of Richard Lambert. Starting from while he was still in the coma, I covered the time that he was rampaging the streets as if it were a dream. Like a confused child, he doesn't really register what is going on. The views that he expresses about Satan and tapes are not my own. I just figured that he would be the type to believe that nonsense. Personally, I don't believe in Satan.... Unless you count cigarettes to be his form here on earth.. and if that is the case....then he is taking me on a nice limo ride straight to hell. Great American Smoke-out be damned....