at first, you had thought i was a joke. a damn joke. but now, laying on your musty mattress in the basement of the old man ― the grabber, they called him ― while the.. thing stood in front of you, pretty white feathered wings on either side of their form, proving what they were. you could make out the facial features of the angel, Bruce Yamada ― a fellow child who had been abducted by said Grabber. the jokes of ghost boys in the Grabber's basement suddenly not so funny.

his teeth where pearly whites when he smiles, crouching down and moving his wings gently up and down. "are you the boy the others have been talking about? the new one?" in the blink of an eye, he was behind you, lifting your arm. "you don't seem injured. lonely, yes, but that'll go away soon with me!" bruce vanished and appeared in front of you again in his original spot, grinning.

his eyes drilled into you, your jaw slack. "it's late," he murmured, taking a short glance at the window ― the only window ― in the basement. teasing you of the outside world. "rest, silly." he stared down at you, watching with bright hazel eyes and a excited gaze.