Alexei Lawrence - The Angel's Curse


I say ‘Hey!'

‘Who are you? I'm kind of busy right now, so could you come back later? I've got that idiot Sergeant Timothy O'Connor coming over in ten minutes...'

‘No, I can't. And anyway, I can just write Timothy out of this if you want.'

‘Please! He's coming over to discuss archaeology!'

‘Hang on a mo...'



‘Timothy O'Connor walked up the road, then suddenly forgot why he was there in the first place. He walked back to his house and discussed archaeology with his pet rats.'



‘All done. He's not coming over today. Now you're free to talk.'

‘Wait a minute, you haven't told me who you are yet.'

‘Think of me as the creator of your existence. God, if you like.'

‘Well, ‘God', I don't believe in you.' Lawrence smiles wickedly.

‘Fair enough, I suppose. I mean, I took you away from Beth, your girlfriend.'

‘Oh yeah. Tell me, what's her fiancé like?'

‘Not allowed to tell you, I'm afraid. It would spoil it for my readers.'

‘Readers?! What?'

‘Urmm...well, I'm writing about you on this really cool website called Protagonize. I hope that's okay.'

‘No it certainly isn't! That's police business you're publishing! AND they've spelt ‘Protagonise' the American way!'

‘Sorry about that. The masses have a right to know what's going on...even if they are American. If it's any consolation, you have four fans.'

‘Hmmph...well I hope you've written down my views on Timothy.'

‘How could I forget? Speaking of which, what exactly are those views?'

‘Timothy, how can I describe him? He is a foolish idiot with no brain whatsoever. Why he is a Sergeant and not Beth I will never know.'

‘So your hatred of Timothy lies with Beth? That's interesting. I might write this down...Of course, we all know that Beth's only a PC.'

‘I know! It makes a mockery of the police system! She's three times as clever as Timothy, even with his pet rats!'

‘Oh yes, the famous rats. Why exactly does O'Connor collect rats?'

‘Urrr...the truth is, none of us really know!'

‘I do.'

‘Tell me! He may be an idiot, but Timothy is quite a good friend, and I could lord it over the others if I knew the secret behind those rats.'



‘Because it would ruin it for the readers!'

‘I don't care! They shouldn't be reading about police cases anyhow.'

‘Well they are, so zip it. So, what's the case about?'

‘I'm glad you asked me, and not any of the others. They all think this killing is to do with your wrath.'

‘What do you mean ‘my wrath?'

‘The wrath of God. They think the curse we found with those dead monks at St Sebastian's is doing it.'

‘Rest assured, this has nothing to do with me. Well, I know who's behind all this, but it's not me.'

‘If you know, why won't you tell me? Are there going to be any more murders?'

‘Unfortunately, I can't tell you. I wish I could, but it would ruin the story.'

‘But peoples' lives are at stake! We could save them!'

‘Sorry mate. Can't. It's the rules.'

‘Ha. Ha. Get out.'


‘GET OUT!!!'

‘I can call Timothy back if that's what you want...'

‘NO! Not Timothy! Not today!! I've got enough on my plate.'

‘Glad that's settled. So, what exactly happened between you and Beth Doherty?'

‘Well, in police training we had a bit of a fling, but this is the first time I've seen her since. She's married...'

‘I know. I made her get married.'

‘WHAT?? Why?? Couldn't you have thought of me before you sent her off to get married?'

‘Sorry, I didn't know you then. Anyway, it's not my problem. And don't you dare try and split her up from her husband. They make a lovely couple.'

‘Oh alright then...Listen, you couldn't pop back to my flat in Dublin, could you? Only I've left my laptop there.'

‘Sorry, no can do. My business lies here for the mo. Something's about to happen.'

‘Another murder? Where? Who?'

‘Not another murder, thank me. But you might be in for a bit of a shock. That's all I can say.'

‘Okay, I give up arguing with you, God. Bye bye.'

‘Oh I'm not leaving! I don't have anywhere to stay. And your hotel room looks very nice...'

‘No. You are NOT staying here. I draw the line. Out!'

‘Fine! ‘Timothy, come here!''

There is a knock on the door.

‘ARGH!' says Lawrence, ‘You can stay, you can stay! Just keep Timothy away from me, that's all I ask!'

‘Thank you.'

‘Just don't expect me to be nice to you.'

‘Ah, you forget. I control you. I can make you be nice to me. Like right now, ‘Alexei Lawrence, get me some chocolate cake.' I know he's a terrible cook, but what can I say? He asked for it. 


The End

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