I stroked Martin's head, watching the glowing box with increasing fascination. I had found it in the living room. It had taken me fifteen minutes to figure out how to use it, pressing random switches and buttons around the square face.
It had sprung to life, a man appearing.
He pointed to a map behind him, talking about rain that was coming.
He could predict the weather.
I soon became bored with it, and found that if I pressed a certain button, I could change the image.
'Angels are typically associated with....'
I stopped pressing the button. The glass surface of the box displayed a drawing of a Guardian on the page of an old book.
'Lucifer fell from heaven and became the Devil,'
The image changed to a demonic creature with black bat-like wings. His face was humanoid, but his body was that of a demon. I shuddered reflexively. The informative narrative went on to describe 'Hell', or the sixth dimension, and how the souls of dead humans burned there in eternal damnation.
I turned away until the voice changed the subject,
'Guardian angels are said to guide mortals in their everyday lives,'
That peaked my interest. I scooted closer to the glass from my position on the carpeted floor.
'There have been many sightings of these beings over the years. Most describe leading the subject away from danger, or helping them home when they find themselves lost,'
The imagery changed to a man who was the one speaking. He was standing along a garden path, a stone sculpture of an 'angel' beside him.
'Thank you for watching, I'm Ben Hope and I hope to see you next time on 'Supernatural Truth'
The box faded to black, white words appearing. I turned the glowing box off. So that is what humans thought of Guardians.
Martin looked up at me curiously as though questioning why I had shut off the device.
Standing, I wandered to the kitchen to fetch another apple. There came a knock at the door. I jumped in fear, startling Martin who hissed angrily. Creeping to the door as quietly as possible, I put my eye to the peephole. It was a group of teenage boys. They wore black and had tattoos all up and down their arms. Some had strange hairstyles in unnatural colors.
One of them rapped his knuckles on the door again, "Come on Cain! We know you're in there!"
I pulled away from the tiny round spyhole in shock. They knew someone was inside and assumed it was Cain, home from school.
I turned the lock on the door, hoping it would keep them out. I was wrong.
The window by the door shattered inwards from the edge of a sharp axe. I reached behind me, shoving my wings down so that my body hid them. It hurt terribly to do so, but better hurting them again than a human discovering what I was.
"Well, well, well," The leader of the group stepped through the broken glass, walking towards me. His hair was bright red in what I would soon learn was called a 'mohawk'. He had a black shirt on with a white skull imprinted on it, demonic fire swirled around the image.
"What do we have here?" He tilted my chin up to look at him.
I backed up until my wings were pressed against the book shelf behind me. I prayed that he wouldn't see them.
I hoped Cain would come home soon before these people tore me apart.