All His Angels Are Starving

Jenny repeated the words silently to herself, trying to get them to sink in. I'm going to cut off his legs. She hated this. Hated she had to do this. Hated that she wasn’t sure if she was trembling with hunger or disgust or fear. But it was the only way. And they'd be able to restore his limbs anyway, right? They would just need enough Energy for the right potion or whatever else they can come up with.

More angels were going to show up. There would be more and more fighting until eventually they dropped from exhaustion or something really strong showed up... she shuddered remembering her fight with the black-covered Imperfect Angel. What would they do if something as strong as that crashed through the rubble?

On top of that, the Desecrated Angel was somewhere too. Was it crushed? Was it stuck? It hadn't emerged and killed them all yet... Maybe it wasn't fully formed. Earlier, while that striped angel was trying to feed it, the Desecrated Angel seemed to struggle to breathe. Its insides could still be developing. Or maybe it was like a butterfly, crawling out of its cocoon, waiting for its wings to unfurl and work before taking action. Imagining that wasn’t helping.

Jenny adjusted her goals, resolving to keep everyone alive. Nobody else would die. Especially not Oliver after all she'd fought through to get to him. She'd cut him free, heal his legs, then carry him to the library. Once there, Dr. Lee might be able to help. He must know stuff about this. Susan would be there too; it would be safe.

Then, after recovering, she'd organize a group and come back. They'd find the cocoon or the Desecrated Angel and burn the entire thing to ashes. But right now... right now, she had to cut through another person, her younger sibling.

"Are you sure?" asked Dule, his voice cracking. He knelt on Oliver's other side, setting down the spray bottle and staring down at his friend.

Oliver nodded. But he didn't say a word, he turned back to watch Jenny, a frightened expression on his face, his lips pressed tightly together.

The air felt heavier. It stuck to the insides of her lungs. Other than the sounds of fighting and the babies feasting, all Jenny heard was Oliver's terrified breaths and her racing heart. At some point, she'd collapse too. Even with Severed Spirit, how much longer can her body go on like this? The quicker this was over with, the better.

She glanced at the headless Tarnished Angel. Its chest was wide open. Its heart stuck out, and blood covered everything as the babies fed. Another flicker of hunger shot from her belly to her throat, but she swallowed it down. At least seeing the gruesome sight didn't make her want to retch. But this new feeling wasn't promising... Was she really turning into one of them?

She shut her eyes and prayed. A super quick prayer. To whom, she wasn't sure. Maybe to Eve. Maybe to Susan. Maybe to herself. All she could do was hope this would work, and that she wouldn't be responsible for the murder of her brother.

She opened her eyes when Oliver's fingers brushed hers. "It's okay," he said. His entire body was tense as if to stop the shaking. But he was struggling. Tears kept rolling down the sides of his head. "It'll be okay."

"That's what I'm supposed to say," said Jenny. She was crying too. Snot mixed with blood and ran from her crushed nose down her ruined lips. Maybe it was for the best she was in this strange state. If she'd been normal, would she have had the stomach to do something like this?

Moving on her knees, she positioned herself right beside the rubble. Her shield bounced off the desk. Debris rained down.

"Do me a favor?" she whispered to Dule. "Take off my helmet."

She bowed her head, and he did as she'd asked. That felt much better. The air moving over her sweat-drenched hair felt good. Taking the helmet off made her feel like she could breathe easier.

Dule set the helmet down beside Oliver who touched the metal with a finger.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" asked Dule. "Do you want me to get Mackenzie?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, I don't want Mackenzie to see this." He paused and swallowed hard. Then, in a much softer tone, he said, "I trust Jenny."

Dule glanced up at Jenny and seemed to accept it. He let out an exasperated sigh. "It's my fucking fault... I'm going to heal it right away. Okay? It won't hurt one bit. You came up with these sprays, so you know."

"I know," said Oliver. “Yeah.”

Jenny was bracing herself, combing through memories of TV shows and movies. Stuff with big wars and battles, doctors and hospitals... the American Civil War. The Viking raids. There were so many injuries back then... and they used fire. Heated swords to cut the flesh, and fire to close the wound. She wished she could use ignite.

She glanced again at the spray bottles to reassure herself. Knowing that Oliver was the one to come up with them gave her a bit more faith in their healing ability. She couldn't explain why. But as long as the spray could stem the bleeding, then they could eliminate the chance of Oliver bleeding out.

What else? What else? She tried to ignore everything but Oliver's legs and her hatchet. Then she remembered all the pain. People screaming during amputations, biting off their tongues. It's not like they had any anesthetic. And they'd been through plenty of pain already, hadn't they?

Oliver's thigh was still torn open with the bone protruding. And who knew how many friends and teachers he'd witnessed die at the hands of an angel? She didn't have to imagine what Oliver and the others must've struggled through.

"Alright," she said. "Give him something to bite."

When Dule didn't respond, she opened her mouth and mimed biting down on her arm then pointed at Oliver's mouth.

Oliver, sweating and shaking, nodded quickly. "Yeah, gimme something."

Dule seemed flustered for a second. Then he brought out his wallet. "Will this do?"

Jenny said yes, but she was studying the desk. It was halfway between Olver's knees and his feet. She pressed her shield against his left leg, about the distance of a knuckle away from the desk's edge. She leaned in slightly, applying pressure that made Oliver squirm, but she wanted to make a dent in his armored pants. She repeated it for the other leg, minding his wounded thigh.

This way, the impressions of her shield gave her something to aim for. She wouldn't have to cut one leg then hesitate to size up the next while the first one bled. Two quick blows. That would be for the best. And she couldn't miss. This wasn't like cutting into an angel where it didn't matter where she cut or how much she cut off. She had to be precise. It had to be clean. It had to be swift.

"Hold him steady," she said, pointing at Oliver's arms and chest. Can't have him jerking randomly in pain. "As soon as I cut it..." she continued, picking up her hatchet and wiping off the angel's blood on the floor. "As soon as both legs are free, drag him out and we'll use the sprays."

She inhaled deeply, only vaguely aware of the others coming back. Vaguely aware of the babies finishing their meal and the rumble of hunger in her stomach. The fear and disgust and horror. She was cutting off someone's legs. Oliver’s legs.

It's the only way, she told herself again. It was either that or stay here with him, fighting whatever came until she either fell apart or he died, or they both did. No matter what, she knew she’d never be able to abandon him.

She wondered what Eve would make of this. What would Susan do? Stop her or agree that there was no other choice?

Jenny steadied herself, shield against the desk, knee against the floor. "I'm sorry," she whispered, catching Dule's eyes, ensuring he was holding Oliver down firmly. She couldn't bring herself to glance at Oliver's face. His entire body was trembling; Jenny raised her hatchet and struck.

The hatchet's new edge didn't just slice. It seemed to shimmer. Little sparks of golden lightning crackling around it, and it was as though she was cutting through the smallest particles of matter. She cut clean through his left leg. Light flashed upon impact. Blood burst out, splattering the desk and floor, and she heard him scream. Muffled by the wallet, but still a guttural painful scream of agony.

She heard Mackenzie cry out. Heard the scuffle of footsteps.

But Jenny couldn't hesitate. She couldn't falter now. She brought her hatchet up again. Lightning crackling in its arc. Blood sprayed. And the edge sliced through his other leg with another flash of light.

Blood, thick and clumpy gushed out of Oliver's severed legs as Dule and Mackenzie dragged him back a few inches. Jenny grabbed the healing spray and squeezed, spraying it over and over. A red mist burst out of its nozzle and sizzled and bubbled wherever it touched Oliver's exposed flesh. His muffled screaming seemed to make the air vibrate. It filled her head with heartbreak, and she thought she'd rather have that striped Imperfect Angel suck her blood out through her ruined nose a thousand times rather than have to hear him like this.

But as Jenny continued spraying desperately, throwing the emptied bottle away as she grabbed the next, Oliver seemed to quiet. His screaming became whimpers. His wincing eased. His breathing relaxed, and when she was sure his legs had stopped bleeding, when the flesh had darkened and scabbed over, she stopped spraying.

Mackenzie reached for the wallet in his mouth, but Jenny shook her head. "Don't."

The girl flashed Jenny a furious look, but Jenny didn't care. She moved slightly, bending over to press down on the bone sticking out of his thigh. He screamed again. Mackenzie protested, and Dule swore loudly. But Jenny was already spraying the wound down. She worked quickly and purposefully, and in a matter of moments, this injury was settled for now too.

When she finally relaxed, setting the spray bottle down and noting that there was a tiny bit left, she motioned for Mackenize to remove the wallet from Oliver's mouth.

The girl was still furious, but her expression changed to concern as she cradled Oliver's head with one hand and removed the wallet with the other. It came away with blood and was covered in saliva. His teeth were bleeding; he'd bitten on it so hard, the wallet was nearly chewed all the way through. But the leather had served its purpose.

Feeling dizzy, Jenny crawled toward Oliver's face. She gently moved Mackenzie's arm, then grabbed the spray bottle and used a bit of the healing spray on his teeth. The mist bubbled along his gums. He didn’t need to feel any more pain than he had to.

"Oliver?" she whispered.

He wasn't responding. His eyes were open, glossed over like he was staring at something far off, but he wasn't responding at all to the spray, to Mackenzie's touch, or Jenny's voice.

She called his name again. And again. Dule knelt, gloves appearing and disappearing in flashes of gold and red lightning. Mackenzie was trying to talk too, begging Oliver to get up, touching his arm. The babies wandered over as well, alarmingly bigger than before. They eyed Oliver with immense curiosity and a few of them began to lick the blood around his severed legs.

"Get away!" shrieked Jenny through a choked sob. She threw the empty spray bottle in their direction. It bounced hard off the table, and the babies sat back, their eyes wide in utter disbelief.

Was this all for nothing? Was Oliver dead anyway? Mackenzie pressed her finger to Oliver's neck. Jenny watched, feeling as though time was stretching like thick strands of blood. Then Mackenzie's eyes perked up. She signed rapidly with her fingers while saying it too. "He's alive!"

Jenny breathed an immense sigh of relief. He still has a chance. They just had to get him out of there. "The library," she said, too tired for full sentences. Then, gathering herself, she repeated it. "Let's get him to the library. Someone'll help."

Mackenzie nodded, biting her bottom lip to stop sobbing. Jenny slipped a hand beneath Oliver's head as if to pick him up, but her shoulder cracked as soon as she tried.

Dule grabbed her shoulder. "You need to heal yourself. I'll carry him."

There was a flash of light, and Mackenzie held out another spray. Jenny winced, wishing they wouldn't waste their Energy. But she accepted it gratefully. She watched as Dule picked Oliver up with ease. Mackenzie had her knife at the ready.

The other two stood watch, both bleeding in several places. Their armor dirty and bent. One of them, Tara, had a large hammer. The other... she'd already forgotten his name, carried a sword. The babies sat on the floor, waiting for her. What should she do about them? Could she just leave them here?

She sighed. They could follow her for now. They seemed mostly harmless and he couldn't shake the feeling that they’d bonded with her.

Just gotta get back to the library in one piece. Jenny held the spray’s nozzle to her side and squeezed. As soon as the mist hit her wound, a terrible flash of pain surged through her. As though she'd sprayed acid onto her torn flesh.

For a moment she thought she was just imagining the pain. That, like before, she was receiving the pain signals but not actually feeling it. She opened her mouth but couldn’t make a sound. The burning, the tearing sensation that a billion things were chewing her apart was too much to bear, and a violent shriek filled her throat with enough force that she felt several pops in her chest.