All His Angels Are Starving

Wheezing, Jenny crawled over a large chunk of the ceiling, feeling like a struggling bug. Rods stuck out of the crumbling chunk’s side, and she almost laughed. She'd been lucky to land where she did, lucky not to get skewered again. Though lucky wasn't quite the word she'd use right now.

The wall had buckled, as well as the ceiling, when the energy erupted. She’d been flung into the hallway, her armor and her skin searing as though struck by a burning wind. She'd rolled out of the way as tiles and concrete and whatever else made up the ceiling rained down, just conscious enough to raise her shield and use it like an umbrella. Everything thunked and jarred her body and fell away, and then it was still. Through the gloom of the veil, thick clouds of dust swirled and expanded.

She'd managed not to get crushed and didn't want to think about being crushed like Oliver. With Severed Spirit active, she'd still be in her flattened body, screaming and screaming inside her head.

At least the others got away. She hoped they weren't buried under any of the rubble, but she was sure they'd made a mad dash for the library as soon as they got out of the lab. Dule seemed responsible and would put Oliver's safety above all else. But Mackenzie had been hesitant to leave her; Jenny hoped the poor girl wasn't skewered by a rod or crushed and stuck under any of the rubble.

She touched her wounded side with her shield hand. Her palm came away with jelly-like brown blood the color of rust. She groaned, realizing that most of her armor was gone. It had burned away. The rest of it burning and falling apart with her every breath. Whatever that burst of energy had been, it had damaged her in some way she couldn’t understand.

Much of her chest and side were exposed, as well as her legs. Her pale skin seemed grayish, twisted grotesquely in several places and charred. The dark cloth that made up the underlayer of her armor hung loose where it was still attached to her, burned against her skin. Her arms were nearly bare.

One side of her face drooped slightly, feeling lopsided. That was the side that had taken the brunt of the cocoon’s energy. She struck the floor with her hatchet, sending up sparks from the glowing edge, and pulled her body forward. Loose rubble came free and clattered around her.

The physics lab room was completely busted. The wall had given out. As well as the walls of the lab rooms to the right and left so that the hallway seemed much wider. One of the doors squeaked on its hinges, still attached to a part of the wall that remained upright.

In front of her, inside the lab room, was the giant chasm, like a gaping mouth with jagged teeth trying to swallow the entire school. The swirling dust made it look like it was breathing. She'd seen sinkholes before, and it had been one of her random phobias that a sinkhole would open underneath her house one day and swallow her whole.

It was surrounded by an unmoving vortex of rubble and broken furniture and bodies. Several of the babies were crying and screaming, though none of them appeared injured, just caked in dust. She wondered what had happened to the ones that had fallen into the hole.

Come to me, she almost said. Her lips moved. Her breath slid between her cracked lips. But all she managed was a croak. Grunting, she smashed her shield into the floor and willed her body up. That was a mistake.

Her shield twisted awkwardly and snapped off the decaying scales around her wrist. Her palm slapped against the floor as the shield clattered.

She groaned, watching what was left of her armor glow like embers and burn away, leaving her arm exposed. She peeled the burnt bits of cloth stuck to her elbow and her armpits and sides off. They came away with skin, exposing her flesh. Sighing, she sat for a moment, nearly naked, her skin burnt and twisted, her legs folded beneath her. She sucked in a lungful of dust and then exhaled, the tickle in her throat growing with each breath.

At least nothing hurt. Well, her wound still ached from when she'd tried the healing spray, but nothing else bothered her. She didn’t feel any of the burns or rot. Her hatchet glowed behind her, that gentle golden color that shimmered across its obsidian face and made the flower patterns on the handle seem warm and alive.

When she grasped it, she thought the warmth flowed into her chest and gave her strength, and she could pretend she wasn't a naked, bleeding, and rotten corpse animated by the ghost of herself.

She tried to work out what to do. Rubble shifted and collapsed. The babies wailed and cried. Everything seemed darker without the blue glow from the cocoon. Nothing seemed to be coming out of the hole. She kept expecting the Desecrated Angel to rise, massive wings beating and blowing everything away. She kept thinking it would want more of her blood.

What was below the physics lab? She raked her brain, trying to remember but struggling to come up with anything other than lockers and the offices of the Guidance Counselors. It was near the Boy’s Locker room, she was sure of it, a part of the school she never ventured near.

Just when she made up her mind to crawl all the way to the library, blue light bubbled up from the hole and expanded to fill the lab room. It must have lasted only an instant before snapping out of existence. A sudden flash of light that left behind blue sparks and shimmers that crackled this way and that.

Something shifted, and Jenny blinked hard, her vision full of spots from the light, readying herself for an attack. It was one of the bodies.

A Tarnished Angel, naked and thin, clambered out of a pile of rubble. A female with skin and hair so caked with dust, Jenny couldn't discern any of its features. its eyes were shut. She wondered if it had fallen from above during the second collapse. Then it opened its eyes, its vacant eyes that were glowing a vibrant blue.

It cocked its head, staring at Jenny who'd held her breath, mentally repeating what the fuck? over and over. Was it one of the dead angels? Had the Desecrated Angel risen the dead?

Drool slid down its chin as it opened its mouth and screeched, a throaty roar that sounded different from anything Jenny had heard before. It echoed all over the ruined hall.

She saw several things shifting and realized that screech wasn't just a battle cry. It was a signal.

Jenny grunted, preparing herself as best she could. The once-dead angels pulled themselves out of the rubble, all of their eyes glowing blue. This was some bullshit.

The first one crawled over rubble, moving quickly. Its bones snapped. Its skin tore on exposed rods and jagged edges. It didn't seem to care. The other bodies moved similarly, and Jenny was grateful it was only angels moving and not her classmates. She shuddered, trying to push that thought out of her head as the Angel approached.

Jenny couldn't help but scream, some raw primal fear rising up her throat. She wasn’t just fighting angels now. She was fighting dead angels and that somehow raised the creep factor exponentially.

She pushed off the floor with her left palm and struck the angel on the head with the hatchet. The edge bounced off its forehead, right above its eyes, leaving behind a deep gash with golden light flickering.

It hissed, writhing wildly before collapsing, the blue from its eyes gone. Another one leaped onto her. She felt its body against her own. Felt its heat and touch and she screamed like a madwoman, trying to untangle herself from its clutches as its teeth chattered next to her ear. She managed to roll over, pinning it underneath her. It was already injured badly, bleeding all over, and Jenny slammed her hatchet into its chest, her other palm braced against the handle for extra force. Golden light sparkled briefly, and then another angel was upon her.

It spat and cried and tried to grab her shoulders. She tried to headbutt it on the chin but missed. She hit the creature right on its open mouth instead and felt teeth break the skin of her forehead. She wrenched the hatchet out of the angel beneath her and lodged it into the belly of the other.

Blood gushed. Golden light shimmered. But Jenny didn't blink. The terror faded away, leaving only the desire to kill. To slaughter. And if they kept coming back, she’d just kill them again and again. That’s all that mattered now. Kill these fucking things.

She struck again, and another angel fell beside her. She tried to crawl off, but a new one grabbed her feet from behind, and she fell forward. Her chin bounced off the floor and, screaming, she slashed the angel in front of her as best she could. She kicked the one behind her, but its grip on her ankles was vice strong, and it crawled up her legs. She felt its breath on the back of her thighs, and she lashed blindly with her hatchet until the edge connected with its scalp. Blood splattered her backside, and she pushed forward.

Three more reached her. Teeth clacking. Hissing. Eyes glowing blue. One threw itself onto her back, pinning her down. Another grabbed her by the hair and pulled her chin off a body. She spat blood, all her muscles straining. “Fuck you,” she gurgled, blood and spittle foaming between her gums. She didn't care how stupid it sounded without teeth.

But the angels didn't seem to care either.

They whined and moaned and clambered on top of her. A knee struck her in the face. Her arms were pinned down, and she lost her hatchet in the scuffle.

She was suffocating. The stench of blood and grime and sweat clogged her throat. She wriggled and squirmed, trying to escape, but more hands appeared. More fingers pulled her hair, clawed her skin, and found her throat. Fingernails scraped her broken nose. She smashed her head against one of them and realized it wasn't just Tarnished Angels in here. Her forehead struck the hard covering of an Imperfect Angel.

She raised her head and looked into the glistening blue eyes of an Imperfect Angel beneath her. She couldn't tell what color its covering was. Couldn't even tell if it was male or female, only that her body was pressed on top of it. It must've been brutally injured earlier and the wriggling mass of angels dragged her on top of it.

Her thoughts flashed with the nightmare of being chewed to bits while her soul was still stuck in her brain.

It groaned, its mouth opened, and Jenny shut her eyes, bracing herself for the bite. But its lips never found her face. It didn't chew her while she watched helplessly, none of them were biting her.

They weren't really hitting her either. They were trying to grab and hold her down. They were dragging her toward the hole in the lab room.

“No!” she shouted, and a finger entered her mouth. She tried to bite, but her gums closed on it harmlessly. Its nail scraped the roof of her mouth, and she spat it out. She squirmed and managed to wrench her left arm free. She elbowed one of them, trying to find any leverage. But it was a sweaty, clammy mess of limbs and chunks of the wall and blood. Teeth and eyes flashed all around her. Hissing and growling and grunts filled her ears.

Flesh pressed against flesh. She kicked and screamed and fought. She felt fingers find the hole in her side. Felt teeth scraping her flesh in places she never wanted to be touched. All the while, she was being forced, closer and closer, to the Desecrated Angel.

That must’ve been what happened. The light. A command, a skill or something to control these dead angels to do what the Desecrated Angel wanted. Maybe it wasn’t fully formed yet? Maybe it still needed more blood.

She gasped for air but couldn't expand her chest. Angels pressed on her from every side. Squeezing her. Refusing to give her an inch of space; they were going to fall into the hole while clutching her, removing any possibility of escape.

The Imperfect Angled was still underneath her. Its arms were wrapped around her waist, and they were actually dragging it. They were sliding it across the rubble and floor, her trapped on top of the creature. And staring into its glowing blue eyes, she once again felt the hunger from before. The pang of incessant want, need. As though if she didn't eat right this moment, her body would swallow itself.

Fuck it, she thought. She thrust her face into its neck, trying to get as much of it into her mouth as she possibly could so that she could use her side and back teeth. Her lips stretched and tore. But she forced her jaws.

The angel’s covering cracked and gave away as she bit through. Cold blood spurted into her mouth and rushed down her throat. A message struck her thoughts like a gunshot:

Blooded.

She barely registered it. She kept sucking. Kept swallowing. As though replenishing her blood with the angel's, the same way the angels had taken hers.

Her mind slipped into some dark recess. Her thoughts flurried like bubbles rising from her lips as she sank deeper. Her body didn't accept any of the signals she was trying to send. Stop! Stop sucking! Stop drinking!

But at the same time, it was as though she made no effort at all to stop. Her body was taking care of its needs. She didn't resist. Couldn’t resist. Wouldn’t.

The light faded from the creature's eyes. The other angels were still trying to drag her, but her body moved over that angel’s limp form. She felt its face bounce against her chest, her navel, her thighs, and then she was crawling on the floor and debris. She dug in with her knees, using friction to slow them down. They were inside the physics room now, only a few feet away from the hole, where she could feel the rippling heat emanating, beckoning.

The angels screamed, but it felt like she heard it from a vast distance rather than stuck beneath them. They strained hard. They pulled on her hair, and she thought her scalp might tear right off. But she held on. Somehow, she knew if she fell into the hole, if she fell into where the Desecrated Angel was waiting, she would die.

She didn't want to die.

As ruined and messed up as her body was. As twisted and fucked up her mind had become. All the horrid things she'd done. And all the horrible things she'd lived through. And all the times she’d wished to die before this nightmare ever started...

She wasn't ready to die. Not yet. Not like this.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the familiar sharpness of a metal rod cut her leg. Hope burned through her chest. She swung her leg as hard as she could, forcing the rod through her thigh.

Several of the angels rolled off her. The rod was attached to a large chunk of the ceiling, and the angels stumbled and tripped and flailed. They couldn’t move her now. Not without ripping her leg off first, and they didn’t seem bright enough to figure that out.

I don't want to die here. Please.

Am I praying?

Again?

Who? Who am I praying to?

Fuck.

Fuck!

Something sparked. For a second, she thought it was the blue light of the Desecrated Angel. Was it finally surfacing? Was it finally coming for her?

Instead, a wave of warmth flooded the entire lab room. Rainbow-colored light spun every which way, blossoming with radiance all around her.

Her eyes widened. The angels crawled off her in a mad flurry, all of them screaming bloody murder as they scrambled into the hole to get away.

Jenny collapsed, resting her face on the floor. Her leg was bent awkwardly, the rod jutting out through her thigh. Blood spilled from her mouth, and she heard footsteps scrambling to reach her. She heard voices but her ears felt as though they'd been torn apart and filled with rotten flesh.

The light, she thought, her lips curving into a small smile as she struggled to maintain consciousness. It had pulled her back from that dark place. It felt like sunlight. Like waking up before everyone else and claiming the quiet cool calm of the morning for herself. Opening the window to inhale the brisk air, fresh with the promise of a new day, and then witnessing the morning split the sky open.