Cursed by Wendy Owens

It was weird.   He had these huge white wings.   Kind of crazy.”
    “He was in angel form in your dream?” Uri asked.
    “Yeah, I guess.   Why?”
    “Did anything else happen in your dream with Michael?”
    “Not really.   I guess.   He was falling out of the air while screaming.   Oh yeah, and one of his wings was bloody.”
    “Damn it!” Uri shouted.   “We need to call home right away.   Michael could be hurt.”
    “What?   No.   It was just a dream.” Gabe insisted.
    “You and Michael are connected, Gabe.   You have been since the beach.”
    “I don’t understand.   What does that mean?” Gabe asked.
    “It means it might not have been just a dream.   You could have been seeing a representation of what was actually happening.”   Uri explained.
    “So wait, if that is true, then what Baal said about Sophie being his already might be true as well?”   Gabe asked in a panic.
    “Don’t worry, Gabe.   We’ll get her back.”   Uri reaffirmed.
    A short round man stood nearby, patiently waiting while the two boys discussed their urgent business.
    “Excuse me,” Uri said, at last breaking the silence with the strange little man.   “Is there somewhere we can go to try and call home?   We need to check in.”
    “Of course, sirs.” The man replied.   “There will be phones in your rooms.”
    “Oh, alright then.” Uri replied.   He wondered why they didn’t have phones in their private rooms at Rampart.
    The two boys eagerly followed the man down an old stone corridor.   Gabe was impressed by the ornate architecture of the stone building.   Rampart was simple and straightforward in its design.   The decorative features at Rampart were highly detailed, but the actual structures themselves lacked the embellishment this place did.   Iron Gate is an architectural masterpiece, he thought.
    High ceilings arched up towards the heavens.   They were so high it was hard to see the tops of them.   The huge stone pillars were covered in carvings.   They reminded Gabe a little of the carvings on the wood furniture in his room at home, but these were much more beautiful.   The sheer volume of the carvings overwhelmed him.   He couldn’t imagine how they ever achieved that detail in stone.
    “This is a beautiful home you have here,” Uri said, trying to win some points with the guide.   He simply continued walking without a word, giving only a slight nod of appreciation.
    “So have you guys had any problems with demons actually getting into Iron Gate?”   Gabe asked without hesitation.
    Suddenly he felt a swift smack accompanied by a cracking sound on the back of his head.
         “Smooth,” Uri whispered.
    “What?   We gotta ask.” Gabe replied in a hushed whisper as well.
    “I am not sure what you mean, sir.” Alfred responded, not looking at the boys.
    “Do any demons ever make it past any of your charms?   You know, make it in the gates?” Gabe pushed.
    “No, sir, never.   We run a tight ship here.   No exceptions.” Alfred replied, coming to a stop outside a set of old wooden doors.   The doors had to be at least ten feet tall.   Gabe wondered what kind of grandness awaited them on the other side.   “I will leave you gentlemen so you can rest.   Myself or a member of security will come and escort you when the time is appropriate.”
    “Thank you, Alfred.” Uri managed to say just as the man began to walk away.   They both waited until Alfred was out of sight before turning towards their room.
    “After you,” Uri said, motioning towards the door.
    “Fine,” Gabe muttered, pushing open the enormous doors.
    As the doors swung in, the torches inside the room automatically lit themselves.   The two boys could see the entirety of the massive room.   The room was covered in white marble that had black spider like webbing throughout it.
    “Wow,” Uri said, mouth hanging open.
    “I know, right?   Makes home look like a shack.” Gabe put in.
    “We