Man
I woke up in a cold sweat. My hands clamped shut around the rags I slept under. I was gasping for air, throwing myself out the covers and reaching for my blade.
But, there was no danger here. It was a dream, just a dream… Maybe?
I took deep slow breaths, they would calm my nerves.
I reached out for my blanket and folded it up before stuffing it down my bag, not much to pack. It would be time to leave soon.
To do what? I am not too certain. But, with all these signals I have been getting, I am sure a trial will reveal itself soon enough. Perhaps I will stuff the belly of some beast for long enough that someone can slip by it. Or maybe I could do one better and give it the runs. Eating trash is bound to get you sick.
No, that wouldn't do. Helping one person won't be nearly enough. Though getting it over with would be the easiest solution—
I gripped the side of a small metal table, my legs gave, my stomach churned… I heaved, the metal was slick with my vomit.
I pulled away from it, nearly losing my balance before forcing myself to lay down. I curled up, tears ran down my face yet I didn't know why. I was falling into myself, curling further till I was hugging my knees and filling the room with sobs.
What am I doing to myself?
...….
I stared at the wall, eyes unfocused as they looked into unvarnished brick. I was in a corner, sitting up and hugging myself, refusing to move a muscle. Something was pushing out from within my chest, hammering against my diaphragm and trying to claw its way out.
I deserved this. The inner turmoil, the barf, the tears. It was all a way my body would expel all the evil I have accumulated. James said it himself, this was right, it was warranted and just.
The pressure under my ribs only grew, it wanted to scream out from within my brain. To push through my thoughts and force blasphemy through my lips. I wouldn't allow it, I would pass this trial.
I heard it, vast and piercing, it rattled the stone and filled me with a bone-deep unease. The air oscillated with the sound of static, a monochrome, silvery glow ripped through the dust-covered window of the library.
I shot to my feet, pressed my back against the wall and held my breath. I dared not look outside. Curiosity killed the cat and there is nothing that can bring it back.
Just avoid it, stay away from it and it will pass, you will live—
"Help, anybody…" A voice called out, shrill and feminine. My brow raised the instant the words registered. I had to help, whoever it was.
I turned over, approaching the window. I leaped away, another monochrome scream filled the air. Something horrible is right outside. It will kill me, rip me apart or worse…
But, someone is out there…
I felt nauseous, every cell in my body resisted the idea, ancient instincts overriding anything my will could muster. I wanted to throw up again… No, there wasn't a second to waste.
If I die then it is what I deserve
If I die then it is what I deserve
If I die then it is what I deserve
I said it to myself, said it till I moved, said it till I smashed the pommel of my blade against the glass and flung myself through the frame. Said it to myself till I—
What have I done?
It stood, hovering half a foot off the ground. Chillingly silent and bathed in starlight was an angel.
Three stone figures floated back to back, nude and immobile. They held stone weapons, each one wielding a shortsword and dagger. They were carved beautifully, muscled like gods yet almost featureless.
Their faces had been grinded down just above the mouth. Worst of all was what was left. They had no lips, just exposed, fleshy, living gums and human teeth that slowly slid against each other.
A many-sided shape… no clue what to call it… like a buckyball, made of gold and covered in compound eyes, darted around a small radius and vibrated ominously between the figures. It cast a cone of light around them like the rings of Saturn.
There was an unnatural chill in the air. A horrible, frigid silence that held the world in suspended animation. I gulped, breaking the stillness, tensing as I feared the worst.
I saw someone, looking across the road and into my eyes. A girl… maybe my age, I don't know. That thing takes priority.
Maybe… maybe it's not looking at me, maybe… if I stab that weird orb it will die
Maybe—
Something whizzed through the air and whistled like a gunshot. A vicious heat ran over me as a wave of red light filled the street.
The girl was struck by some sort of projectile, I saw her flying back before crashing through the display window of a shop.
She is dead, dead. I need to get out of here before I join her as a corpse…
A whimper, a cry, cutting through my blasphemy. She wasn't dead… as I hoped. I still had… had to fight.
I drew my blade, my arms felt heavy… like lead. But, I had to strike, now or never. I had to do this.
I stepped forward slowly, my knees were shaking, my heart was pounding like a jackhammer. Just swing, do it.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I forced fight over flight. I howled with the effort, roaring as I sprinted into the jaws of my demise.
The buckyball stilled, its many eyes locking onto me like heat-seeking missiles. Another step and—
A searing wave of red sliced past me as it lanced out the mouth of one of the stone figures. It carved a path through the tarmac leaving a fine gouge that cut its way up the outside of the library.
Blood ran down my cheek, but I wasn't dead. The thing had missed me by a hair. I was still moving, I had to keep moving.
I was in range, blade raised. One of the stone figures began to oscillate, its arm blurring. But I hardly registered it as I brought the blade down.
It all went still, I felt resistance, as my sword cut deep. I saw it, half embedded into the angel's core. The many eyes darted around in what looked like panic. Some of them popped open, filling the air with a delicious, bodied scent.
I breathed in finally, my eyes catching the grey sheen of a shortsword that had stopped millimeters from my skull.
I yanked my blade out, I slipped and tumbled to the floor as it came free.
I sat there, staring at the angel as its presence began to fade from the air. The stone crumbled and turned to sand a split second later. The core hit the floor, the many eyes melting down and leaving only the bizarre polygon.
I raised a hand to my forehead, slick with purple blood that smelled like wine. Then I laughed… laughed as the rush of endorphins peaked. I laughed at how good I felt in that moment. The rush flooded my system in a way I never knew anything could.
The girl… fuck.
I ran past the angel, nearly slipping again before reaching the store. She sat in a pile of broken glass; a book that was pressed flat against her chest had been cratered and singed. It had saved her, absorbing the attack.
I saved her, I seized my moment and gratefully took this opportunity. For that I am hero.
I am a hero.
That phrase filled me with nothing but the rawest euphoria; this… was better than sex, this was the stuff of legend.
She opened her eyes and looked me over; I did the same, but frankly I wasn't too focused on her.
She was blonde, covered in dirt and frail-looking. She wore a leather carabiner and a pair of sports pants. All meaningless trifles to someone like me.
She reached out with a muddy, trembling hand. I gripped her firmly and pulled her up; the act felt like redosing a line of blow, reminding me of what I had achieved.
"Thanks." she whispered as she regained her balance.
I must have looked like an idiot with the massive smile spread across my face, but I ignored it. "No problem, I have everyone's back; couldn't just stand by and let that thing get you."
She nodded, a solemn look on her face. I wanted to hear her say thank you another time. Hell, she should fucking worship me for what I did. Instead, she just looked down and away from me, releasing her grip on my palm and stepping away.
"My name is—"
I didn't let her finish the sentence. "I am Cassiel, a hero around these parts."
She looked up at me and into my eyes. For a moment, something cold ran down my throat. Then she brushed past me and stepped out into the streets.
"Hey, wait up." I followed her; she can't just leave like that. Not after I saved her fucking life. Where is the gratitude, the adoration?
She turned around, her lips cast in a thin line as she closed her eyes and shook her head. "I tried to help you. I really did. Man, you are like the fat dude in Megamind." She jabbed her index finger against my chest and I stopped in my tracks.
"What?" I croaked out… something was wrong, and it wasn't just her behavior.
"Yeah, something is wrong and it's not just your behavior, dude. You are a sicko." The instant she said that, I felt any hint of the rush I felt before absolutely evaporate.
I took a step back and shook my head. This can't be happening. Nononono, this was my moment. It can't be…
"But it is." Her skin began to bubble and shift. Her hair filled with static, then glitched out, buzzing with energy and thrashing before extending into perfect black strands. Her carabiner sank through her skin before being replaced with a white T-shirt depicting… Jake the dog smoking weed.
She grinned as her face twisted into a spiral, and the new one melted into place, a face I could never forget.
Lastly, her bones snapped and stretched. She regained her tall, confident frame.
"Fuck this." I yelled, then dashed away as fast as I could. I reached the end of the road, then I was back before her.
Wh… why? Have I not moved? I was just about to.
"So, you saved my life, brave hero." She winked before taking a step forward. "Grow up, did you expect me to get down on my knees and give you some devious sloppy-toppy or something?"
I stepped away from her. But she was behind me. The fuck—I turned around to face her. She had this shit-eating grin on her lips. I clenched my fists, breaths heaving. "No, I was just trying to help out."
"I am sure you were, name's Tolpa by the way." She shrugged, then placed a stiff hand on my shoulder and patted it in the most condescending manner she could. "You belong on Doctor Phil."
I pushed her away. She stumbled back, surprise flashing across her face for a moment before she regained her smirk. "What the fuck do you want from me?" I shouted.
She poked the side of her cheek and winked. "I am trying to teach you a lesson."
I knew what she was getting at, maybe I shouldn't have expected a reward—
"Nah, none of that boring crap. The lesson is that I am a jerk." She flicked my forehead; I flinched, half expecting her to cave my skull in.
I couldn't even tell what I was feeling anymore. It was all swirling together. Anger, fear, guilt… I don't even know anymore. I was holding back tears; I couldn't place a finger on what was causing them. "What the fuck do you want from me?" I repeated.
"I am fucking with you, that's what I am doing." Her smile faded, a dead serious look pressed flat on her face. "It's funny, hilarious, you can't even comprehend how much of a loser you are. It's like looking at the personification of self-deprecating humor."
"Leave me the fuck alone." I managed to bark out, managed to beg. I felt my hand tighten around the hilt of my sabre.
"How about you tell me what the hell you are even trying to do?" She tilted her head then raised an eyebrow. "What do you care about all this sacrifice and penance bullshit? There is no heaven or hell anymore. Have you lost your mind?" She looked around. "Like, more than average."
I gasped. This felt personal, touchy—like she tugged on the stitches of a patient after a surgery. I felt the pressure rise within my chest. I was yelling now, screaming out each word, gesticulating madly. "I am a good person, I am a hero!"
She leaned forward, an easygoing smile on her face as she curled the back of her palm under her chin. "So then, Hero… how does human flesh taste?"
I swung my blade. Blood arched across the tarmac, her throat split open and she gurgled before falling face-flat.
I swung, over and over and over, laying into her fallen corpse. It felt… wonderful. My blade was light, each strike… simple—
None of that happened.
Something jarred. She was in front of me, smirking like before. My blade… clean. Her body… intact. My eyes went wide as saucers. I dropped my blade, then stumbled back. "You… I killed you."
"Nah, I didn't feel like it." She shrugged.
I shook my head, tried to clear it. "But… I—"
She sighed, reaching around my shoulders. I went stiff as a board. "Nothing is so simple. Every breath, every thought, every action. What's above us, not God, reads it all."
She leaned in closer, dry breath over my ear. "He dreams it all and imagines it and so it is."
"It is wonderful how life is captured with each stroke of ink brought before his eyes. We dance our dance and sing our songs to lull away his burning cries. You can't see the page, a sleeper, unaware of what you cast. This jester, to jest and sting, deceives the pen to change the past."