All His Angels Are Starving

Leslie was pacing. She hated pacing. But nervous energy turned her thoughts inside out, and she hated the discomfort throbbing in her chest. Everything felt tight; she didn’t have her Xanax with her. She'd hoped Dr. Lee would've taken more of a liking to her. Would've protected her. And at first, he did seem pleased by her attention, but as soon as he'd dragged that horrible angel into the library, he'd become obsessed with it.

She'd hated watching him cut into the angel. Hated how the angel screamed. Hated how it reeked of rot. Then it got free and killed that boy, and Susan shot it up with magic electricity. Now the creature was suddenly... Leslie didn't know how to describe it. It wasn't violent anymore. It seemed to just weep softly, pitifully. And it kept trying to say something, but all she and the others heard was a strange shushing, incoherent whispering.

It made her so mad. Why was it so pathetic and weak? After all the terrible things these creatures had done? And what was going on with Susan? Lightning? Human (stage ii)? The notifications in her head felt like she'd taken too strong of a hit from a joint and she was on the verge of greening out.

Then it seemed like the world was ending again. The building shook. Leslie screamed, and she hated that she'd screamed again. But then Susan, who was looking suddenly stronger and braver with her leg somehow fixed, rushed out with Mrs. Monique. They left her alone with Dr. Lee and the angel. The other students kept far away.

Dr. Lee didn't seem concerned by the rumbling or crashing. He continued trying to communicate, shoving his phone into the stupid angel's face, and speaking notes out loud. Nobody paid any attention to the dead boy. The librarian lady had dragged him into the corner and covered his face with a sweater. For a moment, Leslie felt bad that she didn't know his name. But then she realized nobody was paying attention to her either, and she chewed the inside of her cheek. What should she do?

She didn't want to die. She'd need to cozy up to someone. Maybe that girl Jenny? She seemed like she knew what she was doing. She seemed the righteous kind of person who wouldn't let anyone else die.

Leslie paced away from the angel to watch the others nervously restack the tables to block the doors. But it was obvious they were waiting in case the others rushed back. Leslie chewed off a fingernail. It clicked between her teeth, she sucked on it for a moment, then spat it away. It tasted like blood.

Someone made a face at her, and Leslie wrinkled her nose. Like, bite me. I'm stressed. She didn’t want anyone to see she was trembling. She'd do anything for a joint right now. She and Kevin were cutting class to smoke when this all started, and she was feeling anxious without her daily fix. Kevin was probably dead though, the weed probably in his pocket. She sighed.

Shouting erupted in the hall. It sounded like a man, and Leslie perked up. She waited, her arms crossed as the others pushed tables aside. Two people shone light into the hallway just in case. But it wasn't more angels. It was four students begging to be let inside.

No wait, there were five of them. The biggest one was carrying the fifth, a boy with his legs cut off.

They stumbled into the library covered in dust and scrapes and bruises, each one with their own helmet and armor. Someone showed them to a table where they could set the injured boy down. A girl was arguing with the biggest boy, who Leslie recognized was Dule from her tiny crush on him last year. Except he'd turned her down, so she told everyone he was gay.

She didn't approach the new group like the others, bursting with questions and worry and concern. She watched Dule and the girl argue about going back. He was the only one talking, on the verge of shouting, and she was making sounds of rage but speaking with her fingers. She was deaf. Leslie couldn’t help but admire what the girl was wearing. A knight’s shining armor? Even though it was battered and broken and caked in dust. Leslie wanted something like that.

They were arguing about someone's sister stuck back somewhere. But Dule didn't want to leave the boy. The other two kept saying there was something wrong with the girl they left behind. That she had to be an angel or something.

The deaf girl wasn’t convinced. She looked sadly at the boy on the table before barging out of the library. Dule swore loudly, asked the others to keep the injured boy safe, then rushed after the girl.

That all seemed so dramatic. Why didn't they just wait here? Leslie chewed off another nail, thinking about the photo shoot she had scheduled. It was for a big sneaker company, and she’d been excited to try on their new footwear. Her father was going to pick her up, and she was going to get that big burger after work, and then she was going to throw it up. After that, she'd meet with her tutor. She'd been struggling with calculus, and her guidance counselor had warned her that if she didn't pass the class, she'd have to take the remedial course over the summer, and there was no way in hell she was giving up her three-week trip to Bali.

She kicked a book on the floor. It slid away and slammed into a shelf. This was all so stupid. She'd been trying to figure out whether or not to take Kevin on the trip. Or would it be better to go single and bump into other cute boys? But what did that matter now? She was stuck in this library, covered in blood, and feeling icky.

In her absentminded pacing, she'd returned near the angel. Dr. Lee stood and caught her attention.

"Leslie," he said. "Would you mind staying with the angel for a moment? I don't want her left alone."

"Excuse me?" said Leslie. She looked at him and the angel in disbelief. Why did he care so much about its feelings?

"I want to speak to them," he said, motioning with his blood-covered arm at the new students who'd walked in. "They might know things. And they're high level." His lips twitched into a smile. His eyes bulged slightly.

She nodded slowly, fear panging in her stomach in a way she couldn't explain. Her teacher seemed like he was staring through her. His mind was already working on whatever he had planned, and she barely mentioned one of them was injured before he shuffled toward the others, a skip in his step.

"Okay," said Leslie, squatting down, several feet away from the angel, to look it in the eye. Disgust and anger rolled into a swirling mixture of hatred. Her lips curled. She wanted to kick the ugly one-eyed thing, but she didn't want to break her ankle or something on its orange armor-like skin. What even was that anyway?

The angel stared back. Its orange eye trembling. Tears glistened down its orange cheek. The other socket was empty and red, and looking at it made Leslie sick. At least its torn shoulder was covered; she'd hated seeing the exposed flesh and bone. Its remaining arm had no fingers, the same way Jenny had no fingers.

Leslie inhaled deeply. "What are you?" she asked, knowing it was futile. Knowing it was stupid. She knew what it was. An angel. But it had changed twice. First, it went from a skinny zombie thing to a more fleshed-out orange thing. Then it turned into this. Angel (stage ii). Jenny and Susan were Human (stage ii). What did stage ii mean? Could Leslie reach that too?

As the angel shut its eye, Leslie tried to concentrate on her thoughts. On herself. On what she was to this system thing. It came to her head like a random daydream.

Leslie Garcia

Human (level 1)

Age: 6,425 days

Stats:

Power: 2

Durability: 2

Stamina: 7

Agility: 5

Stat points available: 0

Energy available: 0

Her eyes went wide. "Are you seeing this shit?" she asked the angel. She shook her head in disbelief. It was laid out so... so easily. Like the screens at a cosmetic surgery page where she could choose what to enhance, what to improve. She could change herself and grow as she wanted to!

But she needed to level up like the others had. She needed more of this Energy stuff. But how?

"If I kill you, will I get stronger?" whispered Leslie. She bit her lip and shuddered. She'd never killed anything before. While her family freaked out about spiders, if she found one, she'd carry it to her window and set it free. Even as her father screamed bloody murder. Roaches and centipedes and moths. She didn't kill them. She just helped them be on their way. While she didn't want them crawling on her, she didn't think it was right to deny them their lives just because some people thought them unsightly.

After all, that's what she'd heard all her life, hadn't she? Don't eat so much, Leslie. Leslie, you're turning into a chipmunk. Leslie, you can't shop in this aisle anymore. None of these will fit you.

Nobody ever expected the overweight girl in middle school to become a model by high school.

She knew most other girls hated her. Like Jenny and Susan. They were just jealous, weren't they? Toxic bitches. They'd bullied her relentlessly for not fitting their standard of beauty. Now that she'd exceeded their standards, they couldn't stand it. So, when she was fat, nobody liked her. Lose some weight. Eat less cake. Leslie's face is a big mistake. And now that she was thin, she was too pretty; guys only wanted her and girls hated her.

She grimaced, dropping to her knees beside the angel, daring to move closer. "I guess you're like me then. No matter how much you transform, you're still..."

The angel seemed to relax now that she was closer. She couldn't really tell, but it had stopped sniffling and shushing. The angel raised its fingerless hand, the stumps glistening in the light, and Leslie had the strange sensation the creature wanted to touch her.

Its orange palm found Leslie's cheek, and she closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth. Something shifted. Somewhere deep inside her. The oddest, strangest sensation.

It was the way she felt about bugs. Except in reverse. As though she were the bug, and the angel was admiring her. She shuddered. She'd never felt like this before. Never felt someone touch her cheek with such curious gentleness...

Then she remembered this angel had bitten through a boy's neck in front of her. And she was about to pull away and run to the other side of the library when the floor rumbled again. Blue light flashed through the air, sparkling and shimmering. For a second, it looked like Susan's lightning. But it didn't crackle. It didn't sizzle. It simply flashed and vanished, and Leslie felt her face twisting in horror. Her eyes widened. Her nose and lips curled and a wail escaped her throat. Goosebumps crawled up her arms and the back of her neck, and she couldn't move. She was frozen to the spot. And so was the angel. Its one eye wide. Its palm still against her cheek. That freakish flash of light had done something to them.

A moan came from the corner. She turned her head, her neck stiff, and saw the dead boy struggling with the sweater draped over him. He clawed at it, then rolled onto his belly, and the sweater fell away. He twitched. His neck was torn. Blood spilled.

He twitched again, and he was looking right at Leslie. His eyes were glowing blue, and Leslie whimpered as he scampered toward her. His arms and legs moved like a spider's. He was wailing as he stomped over books. He was wailing as he barreled down on top of her.

She heard shouting. Something shattered and exploded. She heard someone rushing toward her. And then the angel threw itself off the floor and lodged its orange arm into the boy's throat just before those glowing eyes and snapping teeth reached Leslie.

Horrible choking sounds filled the library. His blue eyes frantic. He grabbed the angel's orange arm, but it was buried to the elbow. Blood gushed from his ruined throat. His limbs jerked wildly, and then he went still. He was dead. Again.

Leslie sobbed, staring at the boy, his face warped. He was stuck to the angel's arm; it couldn't shake him loose, and she couldn't bring herself to help. It was Dr. Lee that wrenched the boy's body off.

He seemed shaken as well. Muttering to himself. He threw the boy's body away and then stared down at the angel even as another explosion shook the entire library. "We have to kill it."

That snapped Leslie out of her fright. "What? Why?" She glanced from him to the angel. It seemed to be cowering, looking at something past Dr. Lee.

Dr. Lee drew his katana, a menacing look in his eyes. Leslie glanced back toward the others and saw that much of the library floor had given away. It was falling apart as she watched, the floor bursting, as though something was trying to dig out of the ground. She blinked, and one of the students was dragged underneath.

The others rushed through the exit. One of them shouted at her, but she couldn’t hear him. Her heart was pounding too hard, and without all the lights, it was much darker. They only had the flashlight beside the angel.

"Don't you see?" spat Dr. Lee, only half his face illuminated. He didn’t seem aware at all of the commotion behind him. "The dead are rising. Something horrible is coming." He was shaking like mad. "And those kids explained it perfectly. If we kill them, we can get stronger and stronger, and I want to evolve. I have to be strong. I have to survive this challenge. I have to..."

Holding his katana with both hands, he drew it back, ready to jab it into the angel's chest.

Before she knew what she was doing, Leslie screamed and threw herself on top of the angel and spread her arms, trying to protect it. Surely, he wouldn't stab her? “There’s something coming!” she screamed. “We have to get out of here!”

Dr. Lee glowered and stamped his foot. “Fine,” he said. “You wanted to help me no matter what, right?”

Leslie shook her head, tears spilling down her cheek. She glanced between his legs. Something was cutting through the floor and getting closer, and she was torn between running away and stopping Dr. Lee. "Not like this," she said. “Don’t kill her.”

That seemed to give him pause. The floor rumbled again, and more of the library gave away, and Dr. Lee didn't even flinch as a shelf collapsed beside him. Maybe if she could stall him enough, they could fall downstairs and... She wasn't a fighter. She was pathetically weak and helpless. What was she going to do?

When Dr. Lee spoke again, his voice was steeled and low. "I want to see how much I'll get for you," he said.

"What?" she whispered, and he thrust forward, and the point of his katana plunged into her back.

It felt like she'd been punched. Hard. She didn't even cry out. She just looked over her shoulder at the blade protruding from her back. Looked at the bloody hands holding it. Looked at the twisted ugly look on Dr. Lee's face. She felt its length inside her with every beat of her heart. Every breath.

A roar filled her ears. It sounded like the world was splitting into pieces. The light near them flickered and flashed, and Leslie felt like she was being photographed. She could be on a horror magazine cover. The girl stabbed through by her science teacher.

Dr. Lee withdrew the blade, and Leslie felt every inch of its metallic length slide out of her. "Not dead yet," he said.

He raised it again, this time aiming higher. Aiming for her heart. And she couldn't even more, let alone say a word. The floor shook. Dr. Lee grunted.

Before he stabbed her again, a dark arm shot out from the floor. Fingers coiled around her thigh and squeezed so hard that blood gushed from the wound in her back. She heard what sounded like giant wingbeats, a hissing that made the angel cry out in fear. Then the floor erupted as she got wrenched through.

Whatever was holding her, it squeezed her leg so hard that lights burst in her head. She was only vaguely aware of the angel and Dr. Lee falling with her. The flashlight spun all around them, and Leslie thought she glimpsed something dark and gigantic with burning blue eyes before everything went dark.