Gideons Leap
By Alan V Legis

"Look down", he said, and I looked over the railing.

It was so far down, and my head span as I looked upon that titan drop. Down below, the cars and street lights seemed to be little more than pools of white in an ocean of blackness. People scurried to and fro like busy ants, bustling in and out of the pubs and clubs.

"Why are we here?" I asked, speaking to the back of his blonde head as he leaned over the parapet.

He didn't seem to have heard me, for he continued to stare without speaking. The only sounds which I could hear were those of the distant traffic below, the whisper of the wind and, even over this, the sound of his heavy breathing. He sounded like a man who was about to have a damn good orgasm.

In this relative silence, I had time to collect my thoughts a little. The fear and exhiliration of such height and exposure had done much to flush the alcohol and cocaine from my system, clearing away the narcotic cloud which had caressed my brain. I wasn't exactly straight, but my judgement was certainly not impaired.

There was one question which kept running through my mind like some never ending mantra. 'What the fuck was I doing twenty storeys up with a guy that I'd just met in a pub'.

At the time it had just seemed so exciting, the thought of getting laid so close to the sky, where the stars shone like torches through tears in the velvet night. And Gideon was so handsome and had a way with words. I think that he could have talked me into anything, whether I'd been stoned or not. But sex, at least with a partner, seemed to be the farthest thing from his mind.

Well, if he just wanted to stare down at the city, the I was getting out of here. No matter how handsome he was, there was just no way that I wanted to be up here with a beautiful freak.

I turned to leave but his voice, husky and breathless with excitement, pulled me back. "Look down" he said, "Can't you see them?".

Despite my resolve, I found myself drawn back to the edge and looking again. There was something contagious about his excitement, something which seemed to infect me with the urge to look and behold the wonder which had excited him so.

I looked, and the view was the same as before. There was nothing but toy cars, people who were little more than dark specks in the puddles of light.

"What is it?" I asked, unable to comprehend what it was that had got him so deliriously excited. Perhaps it was the cocaine which he had taken earlier, for I could see nothing which could account for his strange excitement.

"The angels" he said, his breathing becoming so fast that I was convinced that he was on the verge of orgasm, "They're so beautiful. All white, with their hair like silk from the looms of heaven. Oh, and their eyes. Their eyes are like diamonds, diamonds in faces as pale and radiant as the moon".

I looked over at him then, growing increasingly worried that I was standing over the city with a man who was either mad or suffering from severe delusions which had been brought on by the cocaine. Either way, it was not a comforting thought. Anyone who was crazy enough to stare into space and rave about invisible angels was mad enough to do, well, just about anything.

"Just look" he repeated, "They're soooo beautiful".

And I did look. Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to run from here as fast as I could, but something compelled me. It seemed as if my body was nothing more than a puppet, and I was being guided by some will other than my own.

"Listen, Gideon" I said as I looked, meaning to try and convince him that he was just hallucinating. Perhaps I could talk him down, prevent him from doing something idiotic. The words died upon my lips.

I saw them. Angels. They flew about below the parapet, moving with the grace of a butterfly. Diaphanous white gowns flowed about them, giving the impression of silken wings. Their faces were serene, and gentle smiles were upon their lips. Sometimes there were only two or three of them, and then there would be ten. Then there would only be two or three again, but none seemed to either appear or disappear. One moment they were there and they weren't, but there seemed to be no coming or going. There was simply being and not being, and they seemed to move freely between these dual states.

They were singing. It was a bright song, far sweeter than that of the finest choir which I had ever heard, a song which soothed and yet paradoxically inflamed me at the same time. They were so beautiful, and their voice seemed to be the very voice of heaven.

"Come to us, Sylvia" they said in soft and hypnotic voices, "Come to us. You can be like us".

Shutting my eyes tightly, I sought to banish this crazy, waking dream. This could not be happening. I could no longer see them, but their singing still whispered inside of my mind, soothing and seductive. I wanted to go to them. I wanted to be one with them.

"Jump" they said, and for one crazy moment, I found myself climbing on to the railing and preparing to leap. Somehow I managed to pull myself back, but as I looked over at Gideon, I saw that he had already swung his legs over the safety rail.

"No" I screamed as he flung himself forwards, his arms outstretched as if he sought to embrace the angels as he fell.

I grabbed at him as he leaped into the night, but I missed and he went plunging downwards. The faces of those angels changed as he fell. Their faces became old and withered like that of a corpse which had been long in the grave, their eyes became as black  as the night itself. Their song had changed as well, falling into a chorus of shrieks which was like some dark funeral dirge.

One of them grabbed at me, and its hand closed about my arm. Its touch was like ice, and its strength was so great that it almost pulled me over the side. I do not know how I was saved, but somehow I managed to pull myself back, and that withered hand released me. I fell back and hit the concrete hard.

The screaming lament had stopped, and after a long moment of sitting with my heart beating like thunder within my breast, I brought myself at last to look once again. No longer were the angels there, but far below I could see the crowds of tiny people already beginning to gather around what could only have been Gideons body. The scream of a siren split the night.

I fled then, tears of nausea and terror cascading down my cheeks as I ran. As I pounded down the steps of the building, my mind began to try and convince itself that I had seen nothing more than an illusion which had been brought on by the cocaine, and the hysteria of the situation.

I almost believed it, but do you want to know something crazy?. Upon the arm where that terrible angel had grabbed me, there were deep marks like the gashes made by jagged nails, and the flesh was blistered as if by great heat or great cold.

Of course, the human mind cannot cope with things it can't explain. Gideon must have grabbed me as he fell, and my drug fuelled mind must have done the rest. It was more comforting to think that than it was to think that something beyond comprehension might have happened that night.

I even believed it myself. For a while.

Authors Note - Go easy on this story guys. It was written 15 years ago or so when I was a mere boy and still at school. I've resisted the urge to edit/tidy up as I think that would spoil what makes it special to me. Hopefully a couple of you guys out there will still see something here you like, if ya don't then heh, it didn't cost you anything.