This is an excerpt from the journal of James Winchester. The story is centered around characters from the Winchester Novel Project.
My name is James.
Those were the first words I remember writing as a child. I guess I wrote them here because I didn’t know how else to begin.
My name is James Winchester. My mother’s name is Elissa Winchester and my father’s name is Luce. Mom died six months ago and I have never known my dad. My little brother’s name is Johnny.
I look up from these pages and look across the small bonfire to see him laying there, wrapped up in a blanket. His face is pale and haggard under that dark mop of hair of his. He’s been plagued by nightmares ever since mom died, hell we both have, and here in this Godforsaken city they have grown worse. It’s like the city itself produces the dreams and the visions that haunts us.
Perhaps that’s why I have started to write down what has happened; to clear my mind, to keep what I am separate from what I am becoming.
The hand holding the pen trembles and I can feel his mark burning on my palm. I look over to Johnny and he has pressed his hand to his chest, just above the heart, and I know he feels it too. It’s like a constant pull on your soul, like a hunger… desire.
I feel it all the time now. And every time I give into his touch… his kiss… it grows stronger. It is all I can think about. Even now, even here…
The Staff calls to me. Whispers to me to take it, to wield it. It whispers with the soft voice of my mother, with the sultry tones of the cursed dark angel.
The Staff and the Spear… Dark and Light… Order and Chaos… Heaven and Hell…
Why did they pick us to carry out their dirty work? Why were we marked and chained to a fate no one of us wants?
Six months ago we were just ordinary kids. I worked at Jenkin’s junkyard and Johnny studied to become a preacher. Then the fire came and burned our lives to cinder.
The house was completely engulfed in flames. We had tried to fight our way through them and save mom, but the heat was too intense. I held Johnny. He cried and screamed. I wanted to cry and scream too but my throat was too dry from the smoke. And as the flames slowly died and the blackened ruin of what had been our home appeared the angels came; those of light and those of dark.
Aziraphel and Tezalel…
I shoved my little brother behind me and drew the old revolver I had saved from the flames. The dark angel just smiled and when I pulled the trigger his fair brother raised his hand and the bullet stopped! It hung there in the air for a second before it fell to the dusty ground.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I demanded.
“Should you not ask what are we, Jamie?” Tezalel said with a smile.
“I know what you are?” I replied. I pointed at their wings. “I’m not blind.”
“We have come to claim you and your brother”, the light angel said, his voice as haughty as his dark counterpart.
Believe me when I say that I fought with everything I had. Fought for myself and for Johnny… Little Johhny, only fifteen but with eyes that are a hundred…
I wasn’t surprised when it was the dark angel who forced himself upon me. I’ve never been the angelic type… never been the good one… At least I know that what ever happens, whatever may come, Johnny belongs to the side of Light. He belongs in Heaven…
He is waking up now… We are trying for the abyss again. We will hide the Staff there and let this dead, grey and eternal city watch over it.
We left the Spear in another city in the west… or I am suppose to believe we did. I know Johnny still has it in his backpack…
To be continued…