《All His Angels Are Starving (A Horror Survival LitRPG)》
1. Tarnished Angel
What delusion am I convincing myself of right now so that I can pretend I¡¯m okay? Jenny Huang picked at the thoughts fussing about in her head while she stared out the large windows of her first-period English classroom. It had stormed all morning, and the rain showed no sign of letting up. The sky, the street, and even the people rushing up and down the busy Manhattan streets all seemed drab and gray and dull beyond belief.
Mrs. Rivera droned on about The Scarlet Letter. The lesson involved something about symbolism and the Priest who¡¯d committed a sin, but the words slipped into one of Jenny¡¯s ears and escaped through the other.
All she could think about was how graduation was only a few weeks away. Then she¡¯d be out of here. No more pointless schoolwork. No more dealing with her obsessive-compulsive mom. And no more pretending to be nice to her stepfather and stepbrother who still felt like strangers to her after a year. She¡¯d escape all of it and begin life anew. She imagined finally being able to breathe, to be herself, and to figure out what being herself even meant. She wanted to have a wild amount of sex, try falling in love, and just¡ be.
Most importantly, she wouldn¡¯t have to be her mom¡¯s daughter anymore.
Jenny had had yet another argument with her mother that morning. It was always over some dumb stupid thing that didn¡¯t matter, but there was always something. Who left the hallway light on? Electricity costs money. Who left their shoes in the wrong place? Stop taking so long in the shower; you¡¯re wasting water. Don¡¯t eat too much, you¡¯ll ruin your figure. You¡¯re too thin. What will people say? When are you going to grow up?
It went on and on and on, and this morning it had been not taking out the trash. Even though it was her stepbrother, Oliver¡¯s turn. What was even the point of having a younger sibling and divvying up chores if Jenny still got screamed at when he didn¡¯t do them?
She sighed and tried to pay attention to Mrs. Rivera. But try as she might, the only thought in her head was freedom. She¡¯d gotten several fully funded offers from prestigious universities across the country, but the one she¡¯d chosen, the one she¡¯d bought sweaters and t-shirts from, was Stanford, the one furthest away from New York and her family.
It wasn¡¯t a coincidence that as soon as her mom had read the acceptance letter, the conflicts at home became unbearable. It meant that her mom wouldn¡¯t be able to continue burying those overbearing claws into Jenny. No more micromanaging things like when to eat, when to shower, homework and exams and grades.
That was one thing about The Scarlet Letter that interested Jenny. In the story, Hester Prynne was marked as an outcast and an adulterer for choosing love. The woman just wanted to be free and her society would not accept it. That was how Jenny felt.
She just wanted to breathe. Have her own space and not feel bitter and alone and compressed and hurt all the time.
¡°Please turn to chapter twelve,¡± said Mrs. Rivera, flipping the pages of her book and stepping in Jenny''s direction.
First-period English should be illegal. Jenny just wanted to climb back into bed, curl up under a thick blanket, and read the book on her own. Wasn¡¯t that more important than sitting in a class and dissecting a bunch of old words?
¡°Jenny?¡± said Mrs. Rivera. She stopped in front of Jenny¡¯s desk and looked down at her expectantly through thick horn-rimmed glasses. She was an elderly Hispanic woman, stern but kind in her own way, and she¡¯d often keep Jenny after class to talk.
But that also meant Jenny was always the first one called upon when it came to reading in class. She groaned and sat up straight.
¡°Would you please read for us, dear?¡±
¡°Sure,¡± said Jenny, sucking in a deep breath. Then she licked her lips. All of a sudden her mouth felt dry. Why did this still give her anxiety even though she¡¯d done it a hundred times?
Jenny cleared her throat and read out loud, trying to keep her voice from trembling. After two pages, Mrs. Rivera moved on to Harry Kim who sat behind Jenny.
Jenny let out a long breath, feeling hot under her red Stanford sweater. The rain wasn¡¯t even chilly; she¡¯d only worn the sweater to spite her mom. Now she was regretting it because all she had on underneath was a thin tank top, and Mrs. Rivera would never let her sit there so exposed.
As Harry Kim read in that deepening voice he had, Jenny¡¯s thoughts shifted to prom. Nobody had asked her out yet. She glanced over at Susan Brown who Jenny considered her closest friend. Susan always reminded Jenny of old movies; talking with her, and being around her made Jenny¡¯s heart ache, and the closest word she could come up with to describe the feeling was nostalgia.
Susan had dyed her hair blue for the New Year and wore it tied up in a messy bun. At least she called it messy. Jenny thought it was graceful and could never get her long dark hair to do the same. She¡¯d thought about asking Susan to do it for her, but that thought made her blush, and she could never go through with it.
As Mrs. Rivera called upon the next person to read, Jenny wondered if anyone was going to ask her out. Or if she should ask someone out. Several boys in her grade seemed friendly and cute.
Again, she glanced towards her right, but this time she met Susan¡¯s eyes. Susan¡¯s lips curled up slightly, and heat rose to Jenny¡¯s face as she pretended to adjust her grip on the book and turn the page. She tried to follow the words, but all she could think about was how warm it would feel to press her cheek against Susan¡¯s.
Mrs. Rivera worked her way up the aisle and called on Susan next. Jenny shut her eyes and listened intently to Susan¡¯s soft, gentle voice. Susan had the perfect reading voice. She gave each character a slightly different pitch, and she always emphasized exactly the words that needed weight to give the story its proper momentum.
It was something Jenny always looked forward to when they gamed together. Shooting other people, hearing her laugh, talking about random bullshit. Susan always took charge, shot calling and helping everyone, even strangers. She was always so sweet, even if she was having a bad day, and Jenny loved talking to her. Chatting about nothing till 4 am, just keeping each other company when they couldn¡¯t sleep.
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A part of Jenny wanted to ask Susan to prom. As friends, maybe. Susan¡¯s boyfriend had dumped her recently. He¡¯d wanted to take Leslie Garcia instead, and he¡¯d broken Susan¡¯s heart.
Then again, Jenny couldn¡¯t even bring herself to look up from the book and glance at Susan''s way again. Besides, what if Susan said no and things got too weird and they never spoke again?
¡°Jenny,¡± said Mrs. Rivera again.
Jenny perked up, her heart racing wildly all of a sudden. Would she have to read again? That wasn¡¯t fair. And she had absolutely no idea where she would have to pick up from.
But all Mrs. Rivera said was, ¡°Please sit up.¡± Then she made her way to the front of the room.
Susan smiled sympathetically, and Jenny shook her head, embarrassed.
Mrs. Rivera cleared her throat. Then she asked everyone to put everything away and take out a sheet of looseleaf. A few students groaned.
¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s time for a short pop essay.¡±
¡°This blows,¡± whispered Susan as she put her books neatly into her cute leather bag.
Jenny picked up the Jansport she¡¯d had since middle school. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°Still better than us acting out the scenes.¡±
¡°Oh, god,¡± said Susan with a laugh, setting off a flurry of butterflies in Jenny¡¯s belly.
Mrs. Rivera wrote a quote out on the chalkboard. Susan turned slightly in her chair to face Jenny, and she looked like she was about to say something.
Jenny''s head spun. Was this a good time to ask Susan to prom? Would it be weird? Hey, do you wanna go to prom together? Like, just to hang out? But before either of them could say anything, she felt a trembling underneath her feet. As though the floor had started shivering and couldn¡¯t stop.
¡°Do you feel that?¡± asked Susan, her brows furrowed in confusion.
Mrs. Rivera dropped her chalk. Then, all at once, the tables, the chairs, and everything shook violently. Susan dashed out of her seat and caught Mrs. Rivera who¡¯d lost her balance. Books tumbled off the shelves in the back. Someone shouted, ¡°Earthquake!¡±
¡°Underneath your desks, everyone!¡± came Mrs. Rivera¡¯s voice from the front.
Jenny dropped to her knees as Susan helped Mrs. Rivera under the teacher¡¯s desk. The lights flickered out, and suddenly everything was dark. Glass shattered and rained down around Jenny, who squeezed her bag tight and shut her eyes, and prayed.
Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it was over. A heavy silence filled the classroom, as though the whole world had decided to hold its breath. A ghostly white glow came from the windows now that the lights were off.
¡°Is it over?¡± asked a girl.
¡°There could be aftershocks.¡±
¡°What you know about earthquakes?¡±
¡°Earth Science, bitch.¡±
¡°Everyone stay where you are,¡± said Mrs. Rivera, sternly. ¡°Is anyone hurt?¡±
Jenny looked at all the glittering bits of glass around her. She guessed one of the lights got knocked loose and collapsed on top of her desk. She turned and glanced at Harry whose face had turned red. Everyone seemed alright.
She wanted to call out and ask if Susan was alright. She didn¡¯t want to think about what might¡¯ve happened to Mrs. Rivera if Susan hadn¡¯t acted so quickly and selflessly.
¡°Is anyone getting reception?¡± came Susan¡¯s voice from the front of the room, and Jenny felt some of the tension ease.
There was a flurry of motion as people reached for their bags. Jenny grabbed her phone and powered it on. No signal. Not even the school wi-fi.
Nobody else seemed to have any connection either, and everyone started murmuring with worry. Jenny pushed broken glass away with her bag, trying to clear out a space for when she could get out. At least it wasn¡¯t pitch darkness, she thought. Even with it storming and gloomy outside, there was enough light to see¡
Wait. She held her breath and focused. Other than the hushed voices of her classmates, it was quiet. Unbearably quiet. She turned slowly, grabbing the legs of her table to maneuver herself, and looked up at the windows.
There was no rain. The sky was gone. The storm, Manhattan, all of it. There was only a blank pale emptiness outside. It wasn¡¯t darkness nor light, but something in-between that Jenny couldn¡¯t describe. A renewed sense of dread clogged her throat.
Someone screamed.
¡°What happened?¡±
¡°Look out the windows. It¡¯s¡.¡±
¡°Maybe it¡¯s cause of the blackout?¡±
¡°Dumbass, how does that make sense?¡±
¡°Yeah, but-¡±
¡°Quiet!¡± Mrs. Rivera shouted as she stood up in front of the classroom.
Everyone stopped talking and waited for her to say something. Something to explain why there was nothing but a void outside. But she said nothing. She walked over to the windows and gasped.
Someone whimpered. Other people threw out theories: It must be some strange weather thing. Like a really dense fog caused by the earthquake. What if we¡¯re all dead?
Jenny started shaking, and for a second she thought it was an aftershock, but then she realized it was just her.
Was her mom okay? Her stepdad? Oliver? Oliver was two floors below her right? In his freshman math class? Jenny prayed silently that he¡¯d gotten under his desk or somewhere safe and that nothing had happened to him.
Suddenly, the fight from this morning felt stupid and far away. Jenny rubbed the letters that spelled Stanford on her sweater. They had earthquakes in California, right? Was this a sign she shouldn¡¯t go?
A sharp pain began on the left side of her forehead, right above her eye. She pressed her palm against it, crying out in pain. Mrs. Rivera and everyone else did the same.
The pain blossomed through Jenny¡¯s head, spreading throughout her skull before blinking away. Words appeared. A series of messages.
Welcome to the Veil.
The Survival Challenge is in effect.
The victor shall be rewarded. Best of luck.
Human Population remaining: 851
¡°What?¡± whispered Jenny. The pain was gone, but the words¡ they showed up the way notifications did on her phone. But instead of on a screen, they appeared inside her head. It was as though her mind was a pool of liquid, and the messages emerged one by one as fully formed thoughts. Except they weren¡¯t her thoughts.
Was everyone else getting this too? Survival challenge? Human population?
She had a feeling like some other message was about to emerge. It felt oddly like trying very hard to remember something that was just on the tip of her tongue. But before the message could show, Mrs. Rivera cried out. A shadow flickered across the room.
Jenny looked up to see her teacher stumbling backward toward her desk, her frail arms reaching behind her trying to find support. Jenny followed her gaze and felt her heart thud to a stop when she saw what had frightened Mrs. Rivera.
Something was climbing up the outside of the windows. Its thin figure illuminated by the pale glow of the void. With long blond hair, translucent skin, and big eyes that were just the white part... it looked human, but a dizzying uneasiness told Jenny that it wasn¡¯t. Another message appeared:
Tarnished Angel (Level 2)
It looked like a naked woman, except emaciated and so skinny that Jenny couldn¡¯t help but think of the pictures she¡¯d seen of famine victims in her World History class. She could see almost all of its bones. Its ribs stuck out painfully, and its face was just skin stretched over a skull.
Yet, it had an eerie, unsettling beauty like a fragile glass sculpture. It stopped climbing once its entire body was in view. Then it opened its mouth and what looked like blood gushed down its chin. Before anyone could react, the angel let out a nightmarish scream.
It raised a fist and smashed through the window.
2. First Blood
The Tarnished Angel dropped to the floor in a shower of glass in front of Jenny¡¯s table. Little cuts bled all over its pale body. With a disgusting retching sound, it vomited more blood.
Jenny¡¯s mind went blank as she stared in horror. An angel? Like from the Bible? How was this an angel? She heard screams and shouts, followed by the clangs of knocked-over chairs and tables. That seemed to draw the creature¡¯s attention because it turned its head and locked those empty eyes on Jenny.
She backed away slowly. Jagged glass cut into her jeans, and she winced in pain. Something clanged, and she realized the table behind her had fallen over and blocked her exit.
The angel crawled forward, glass crunching underneath its exposed palms and legs. It didn¡¯t seem to mind. Jenny could see its bones moving underneath its pale skin. Blood flowed from its mouth still, and Jenny whimpered when its blonde head bumped her table. She held her bag in front of her like a shield.
Something struck the angel on the face with a heavy thunk. It hissed and turned away from Jenny, and she saw what had hit it. A stapler lay open on the floor.
¡°Get out of there, Jenny!¡± Susan¡¯s voice cut through the dread pounding in Jenny¡¯s head. She stood next to the chalkboard holding up the large hole puncher.
Mrs. Rivera was still leaning against her desk, staring at the angel and muttering in Spanish. She stepped towards it. She seemed transfixed.
Jenny pushed the table out of her way and got to her feet. Everyone else had run out through the door, and there was a rush of footsteps and screaming up and down the halls. Were there more out there?
The angel, still on all fours, fixed its blank stare on Mrs. Rivera. It was on its toes now instead of its knees, and Jenny thought it almost looked like a cat ready to pounce.
¡°Dios m¨ªo,¡± whispered Mrs. Rivera, spreading her arms as though she were welcoming the angel with a hug.
It leaped off the floor, baring its teeth, then the two of them collapsed. Mrs. Rivera screamed, over and over as the angel wriggled on top of her, snarling and chewing. It pinned her arms down then sank its teeth into her neck. Then she went silent and stared blankly at the ceiling, muttering something faintly about the Lord as blood pooled around her. The angel bit and chew and slurped all the while.
Jenny couldn¡¯t make a sound. She clutched her bag, shaking, taking a step backward towards the door. She couldn¡¯t take her eyes off the angel chewing its way through Mrs. Rivera¡¯s neck. Its blonde hair and pasty skin were now stained with blood. She glanced over at Susan who seemed petrified.
¡°Susan,¡± whispered Jenny. But she¡¯d either been too quiet or Susan was too terrified to hear her. Jenny took another step back, and her boot connected with a chair, knocking it over.
The clatter made her heart leap into her throat. The angel¡¯s head tilted towards her.
Tarnished Angel (Level 3)
The new message didn¡¯t help. Wasn¡¯t it just at Level 2?
It bared its teeth, glistening red with bits and strands of meat hanging from its lips. It crawled off Mrs. Rivera¡¯s body, and Jenny could see its shoulder blades as its back rippled.
Jesus fucking Christ, thought Jenny. Fear filled her head with so much pressure she thought her head would cave in. She couldn¡¯t bring her legs to move. She couldn¡¯t take a single step or look away from the white blankness of the angel¡¯s eyes.
Then, just when she thought it would leap onto her too, the angel paused. It raised its head and sniffed the air, then turned again, this time towards Susan who hadn¡¯t moved either.
Run, Jenny tried to say. Her tongue moved, but no sound escaped her throat. She didn¡¯t want the angel to come after her again. She could barely inhale. Her legs were shaking so badly, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel the tiniest bit relieved that the angel had turned away. She couldn¡¯t stop picturing it tearing her apart and chewing through her stomach and making her watch until she died.
It leaped onto Mrs. Rivera¡¯s desk, still hunched over, still sniffing. Susan still hadn¡¯t moved, and Jenny¡¯s heart was about to burst out of her chest. She wanted to shout, scream, whisper, anything, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to make a sound.
Susan let out something halfway between a whimper and a cry for help. The angel hissed. It looked like it would leap, and that was when Jenny¡¯s feet suddenly felt free and weightless. She rushed towards the desk and swung her bookbag as hard as she could.
For the first time, she was grateful she had to lug heavy hardcover textbooks around. The bag struck the angel on its side with a satisfying thud, knocking it off the desk. It landed on Mrs. Rivera''s body with a screech, scrambling to regain balance. But its hands and feet kept slipping on blood.
Jenny swung her bag again, this time bringing it over her head, holding it by one arm strap. She brought it down on the angel¡¯s blonde head. Her bag tore open upon impact, and all her books and notes went sprawling across the floor as the angel crumpled beside Mrs. Rivera.
She shook, holding what was left of her bag. The angel twitched facedown in a pool of blood.
¡°Is it dead?¡± whispered Susan.
The creatures hissed and then rolled away, around Mrs. Rivera''s desk.
¡°No!¡± shouted Jenny. ¡°Susan, it¡¯s-¡±
But Susan didn¡¯t even get a chance to scream as it leaped onto her. The hole puncher went flying out of her hands, and Jenny could hear the angel¡¯s teeth gnashing over and over.
Jenny grabbed a chair and rushed around the desk, bracing herself for the worst. But Susan had her hands on the angel''s tiny torso, keeping its teeth away from her neck and face.
Thrusting with the chair, legs facing outward, Jenny pushed the angel off Susan. It screeched and howled, scratching at the chair, the chalkboard, and the floor. Its legs kicked hard. The look in its eyes was empty and desperate.
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With a shout, Jenny struck the angel again with the chair¡¯s legs.
Susan got to her feet, breathing hard. The angel was on all fours again, its blond hair covering its bloodied face. Jenny thrust again with the chair, feeling like she was keeping back a violent rabid dog or something, but the angel grabbed one of the chair¡¯s legs and yanked.
The momentum pulled Jenny forward. She hadn¡¯t let go in time, and she went tripping over the chair.
She heard Susan cry out, but Jenny thrust her forearm against the angel¡¯s neck and chin as she crashed on top of it. It gnashed its jaws over and over, the sound of its clacking teeth making Jenny sick. It scratched and pulled at her sweater and her hair. The thick stench of blood clogged her nose.
There was a nasty purple bruise on its forehead from where she¡¯d struck it with her bag before, and that gave her hope. If it could get hurt then it could die.
It grabbed Jenny¡¯s face, and she couldn¡¯t help but scream. It rolled the two of them over. Jenny¡¯s head struck the floor hard as it scrambled on top of her and tried to pin down her arms just as it had done Mrs. Rivera¡¯s. But it couldn¡¯t get a grip as Jenny struggled.
Blood and drool rained on Jenny¡¯s face as she reached for something. Anything. Her fingers closed around something cold and metallic and heavy. The hole puncher!
She swung it hard. It made contact with the side of the angel¡¯s head. With a cry, it went limp and fell to the side. But Jenny didn¡¯t stop. She swung the hole puncher over and over, using both hands as she sat up. So many times that she lost count. Until its face was a mess of red mush. She couldn¡¯t tell if the angel was screaming or if she was.
She didn¡¯t stop until she felt a hand on her shoulder.
¡°I think it¡¯s dead now,¡± Susan whispered, her voice quiet and small. The hole puncher dropped from Jenny¡¯s hands. It was covered in blood and bits of flesh. What remained of the angel''s face was a gruesome mess. She''d completely caved in its nose, broken through its skull, and knocked teeth into its throat.
A slew of messages blossomed in her thoughts:
You¡¯ve defeated Tarnished Angel (Level 3)
Experience has been awarded
+10 Energy gained
First Blood Bonus!
Congratulations on your first kill
A great amount of Experience and Energy has been awarded
+100 Energy
Leveled up!
Jenny Huang, Level 1 -> Level 2
+2 Stat Points
Jenny hardly registered the messages. They felt very much like video game notifications. Experience? Energy? Stat points? But it was difficult to focus on that when she¡¯d just killed something.
She stared at the dead angel. It lay there with one arm across its torso, the other arm limp on the ground. It looked sickly and drab, its skin no longer translucent. Whatever Jenny had thought made it look ethereal before was gone. Strands of blonde hair floated in the pool of blood around its ruined head.
Feeling like she was going to be sick, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she¡¯d just smashed in the face of a woman who¡¯d been starved nearly to death. The angel¡¯s body looked exactly like the bodies of Holocaust survivors. Its stomach was completely sunken in. It had no flesh on its limbs, just bones and skin.
How was this an angel? The angels Jenny had learned about in Sunday School were nothing like this. She¡¯d always imagined them as towering masculine figures of light with wings that stretched across the sky.
Susan knelt down beside her, and Jenny realized what had distracted the angel before. Susan had wet herself.
¡°Are you okay?¡± she whispered, her voice shaking. Her face was covered in droplets of blood.
Jenny shook her head. She shut her eyes and sat back. It was quiet in the room now. The hallway outside seemed to have quieted down too. But something nagged at her thoughts. ¡°Why do we have stat points?¡± she said, partly to herself.
¡°What?¡± asked Susan.
¡°These messages,¡± said Jenny. ¡°In my head. Do you have it too?¡±
¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°It said something like welcome and human population¡¡±
They both went silent as a new message appeared. Jenny figured Susan had gotten it too.
Human Population Remaining: 784
Susan started to sob. Jenny pulled her into an embrace, stroking her blue hair with bloodied hands. Whatever this survival challenge was, it had only been a few minutes and a hundred people were dead. She wrapped her arms tightly around Susan and tried not to cry. With the adrenaline fading, another thought burst through her head. But this wasn¡¯t a notification.
Oliver!
He was out there somewhere in the school. What if his class got attacked too? Jenny swallowed hard, trying to listen carefully. But other than Susan¡¯s muffled sobs, she couldn¡¯t hear anything else.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. Susan¡¯s warmth brought her some comfort, despite the fact that they were covered in blood and filth.
There were monsters. These angel things. They had levels like in games. She had levels too. She¡¯d even gotten a bonus for killing one of them, and that got her enough experience to level up.
How do I use them? Jenny grit her teeth. When Susan mentioned the human population, they¡¯d both thought about that and received an update. So then¡ she focused hard on Stats.
Jenny Huang
Human (Level 2)
Age: 6,801 days
Stats:
Power: 3
Durability: 5
Stamina: 3
Agility: 3
Stat Points Available: 2
Energy Available: 110
It worked! There it was. In her mind, a chart depicting her name and age and everything else. She wondered how best to apply her 2 points, but then the Energy available caught her attention. The system seemed to respond to thought, so she focused on the question, What are these points for?
Starting stats are based on your current physical prowess.
+2 Stat Points are awarded per level. They may be assigned as desired.
Every kill harvests Energy. Energy can be used to craft tools, equipment, and weapons. Your capability and capacity to craft are highly dependent on your imagination. The guidance system will apply a cost to your wishes.
A weapon¡ the first thought to pop into her head was a gun. An assault rifle. She preferred snipers in games, but if her aim was terrible in real life, an assault rifle would give her a better chance.
An Assault Rifle will cost 300 Energy to craft. Additional Energy will be required for ammunition. Insufficient Energy.
Shit. That wasn¡¯t going to work. How about a knife then? Maybe a sword? No. A knife would be too small, and she¡¯d always thought swords were dumb. She needed something practical. Something familiar.
Jenny remembered something from last summer when her stepfather Henry had whisked the family away to his cabin upstate by the Hudson River. She¡¯d caught him and her mom ¡®making love¡¯ by accident one morning when she couldn¡¯t sleep. She¡¯d then spent the rest of that day out back near the woods, chopping firewood until her arms felt like falling off and her thoughts were mush. But she¡¯d had a knack for hitting the wood just right.
A Hatchet will cost 75 Energy to craft. Sufficient Energy.
Okay, she thought. Now what? She focused on the Hatchet, and a warm golden light enveloped her right hand. She whispered Susan¡¯s name, who got off Jenny and stared at the light.
It took shape, the light turning liquid and glistening before solidifying into a long dark wooden handle and the familiar flat metal head of a hatchet. Its edge glinted briefly, and without even touching it, Jenny knew it was sharper than the one she¡¯d used before. The handle felt good in her hand. The hatchet had a satisfying weight.
Hatchet (Tier 1)
Energy Remaining: 35
3. Hatchet
Jenny stared in disbelief at the hatchet in her hand. It felt real. It existed. And it only existed because she thought it into being. It had cost energy, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the only way to get more energy was through killing, but it was still satisfying to have created something with her mind.
¡°How did you do that?¡± asked Susan. She touched the flat side of the metal with her fingertip.
¡°That system thing,¡± said Jenny. ¡°Inside our head. I killed that¡ thing, and it gave me Energy that I used to make this.¡±
Susan¡¯s eyes went wide. She stared at Jenny, their faces very close. Then she gasped. ¡°It says you¡¯re level 2!¡±
¡°Oh, yeah.¡± Pulling up her stats again, Jenny focused and figured the best place for her two stat points was power. As soon as the numbers shifted, she felt the slightest change in her arms and legs, and she climbed to her feet. Her head spun and, as Susan watched, she twirled the hatchet and moved her arm.
The hatchet felt light in her hand. She pictured splitting an angel¡¯s head open like wood. Gruesome, but at least she wasn¡¯t defenseless. And she could keep getting stronger by killing them?
Jenny quickly explained to Susan what she¡¯d figured out about the system. How getting the first kill would give her a lot of Energy to use.
This felt like a survival game. The Survival Challenge has been issued. Jenny shuddered. She didn¡¯t look at the angel or Mrs. Rivera¡¯s body. Their English classroom was a mess from the earthquake and the mad rush to escape, but if there were more angels out there, then there was no point in staying here.
She thought of Oliver. He was just a little kid. An idiot sure, who followed her around everywhere and seemed to always want attention, but he was just a kid. All the freshmen were. Hell, she was a senior, but she was just a kid too.
¡°I have to go find my brother,¡± she said.
Susan used the desk to pull herself up. Her legs were still shaking, and Jenny tried not to look at the wet stain on her tights. They were both covered in much worse now.
What would be waiting for them out there? The thought of seeing another angel made Jenny want to throw up.
¡°Survival challenge,¡± said Susan quietly. ¡°Does that mean we have to either fight or die?¡±
Jenny didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°It kind of feels like a Battle Royale game. Except with zombie angels.¡±
Susan wiped her eyes, smearing blood over her cheeks. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. Then she took a deep breath and walked over to the angel and picked up the bloodied hole puncher Jenny used to kill it. ¡°I guess we don¡¯t have a choice.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll watch your back and you watch mine?¡± asked Jenny. It was something they¡¯d say to each other when gaming online.
Susan nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s do this,¡± she said. There was a determined look on her face, even though she was trembling.
Jenny made her way to the door and looked out the glass window. The hall was dim, lit only by the same sickly white glow of the void. There was nobody out there, nothing stirring, and Jenny turned the knob slowly. She stuck her head outside.
Their classroom was at the end of the hall, furthest from the stairwell. Bodies lined the floor; bloody streaks covered the wall. Jenny swallowed the bile that had risen to her throat. She spotted another angel down the hall beside the blue double doors that separated the English department. It was hunched over someone.
She shut the door and pressed her forehead against it. There was no time to think. No time to process. Those creatures were out there and Oliver, if he was still alive, was in danger. He was still her primary goal, and if she wanted to get stronger, she¡¯d have to fight those creatures regardless.
The shocked look on Oliver¡¯s face from this morning when Jenny had blamed him for not taking out the trash was fresh on her mind. Her heart constricted with guilt and terror.
¡°What¡¯s out there?¡± whispered Susan who¡¯d come up behind her.
¡°There¡¯s another one down the hall,¡± said Jenny, not opening her eyes. ¡°And there are¡ bodies.¡±
The hole puncher rattled in Susan¡¯s hands. She¡¯d almost dropped it. She didn¡¯t say anything.
A part of Jenny hoped that if they waited just a bit, the angel would move on. But that was delaying the inevitable. There had to be lots of those creatures if so many people were already dead. How many people were left?
Human Population remaining: 765
¡°Fuck,¡± whispered Jenny. She¡¯d just wanted to graduate, move out of here, and begin her life somewhere far away. She pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway before she could chicken out.
Susan followed closely, the two of them taking light careful steps and trying not to look at the students lying still on the floor.
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They could see the angel up ahead. There wasn¡¯t a message relaying its name and level. Jenny assumed they had to get closer for that. Susan grabbed Jenny¡¯s arm. She let out a small cry and pointed.
It was Harry Kim, the boy who¡¯d sat behind Jenny in English all year. Now he was lying on his side with chunks missing from his face and arm. His eyes were wide open.
¡°Don¡¯t look,¡± whispered Jenny, squeezing Susan¡¯s hand. They moved closer to the angel, and the message appeared.
Tarnished Angel (Level 3)
This one looked male. Just as emaciated as the one they¡¯d already fought, but it had brown hair and wider shoulders. It was chewing on a girl with her neck in its mouth, her body raised off the floor, hanging limp. A loud sucking noise filled the hall, and Susan cried out. Then she clapped her hand over her mouth.
The angel turned, blood dripping off its face as it opened its mouth and let the girl¡¯s body fall to the floor. It blinked, cocking its head. With a screech, the angel barreled towards them, galloping on all fours.
It was terrifying to watch something almost human move like that, but Jenny pushed Susan to the side and held up her hatchet with both hands. She was going to swing it like a bat.
The angel leaped as soon as it was close enough. Jenny shut her eyes and swung.
The impact was nothing like chopping wood. It felt more like cutting through a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The hatchet sliced through the angel with ease, and it collapsed to the floor, howling.
Jenny watched it wriggling, its side cut open by her hatchet. Guts and dark blood leaked from the gash, and she stepped away, wanting to retch.
Hissing madly, the angel crawled towards Susan who¡¯d dropped to her knees. She was shaking like mad. Jenny was about to attack again when Susan raised the hole puncher over her head, holding it with both hands. The angel reached for her legs, and she slammed the hole puncher down. It connected with the angel¡¯s skull with a resounding crack.
You¡¯ve defeated Tarnished Angel (Level 3)
Experience has been awarded
+10 Energy
The messages appeared in Jenny¡¯s head even though Susan had been the one to finish it off. So they must have shared experience, but it seemed like she got the same amount of energy for the kill.
Now that the blood wasn¡¯t pounding her ears, Jenny could hear faint screaming. Was it from the floors below? Or just beyond the double doors?
The angel lay lifeless and still. Susan leaned back and rested her head on the wall. ¡°I got the bonus. I leveled up.¡±
¡°You can get a weapon now,¡± said Jenny. Her hatchet was covered in blood and slime. She wiped it on her sweater, then shivered in disgust. ¡°Maybe something sharp. I already tried making a gun but we need more energy for that.¡±
¡°A knife?¡± asked Susan. ¡°Or should I get something like yours?¡±
¡°What are you familiar with?¡±
¡°Okay,¡± said Susan. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it.¡± She shut her eyes and her brows furrowed in concentration.
Jenny kept glancing down the hall. She half expected another angel or something to burst out of a classroom. But it was unsettlingly quiet.
A moment later, the same golden light as before appeared in Susan¡¯s hands. Strands of the light coiled and formed what looked like a stick. Jenny thought for a second she¡¯d chosen a hatchet as well, but no sharp metal face appeared. Instead, it looked like a black baton.
¡°What is that?¡± Jenny asked, stepping over the angel to get a closer look.
¡°A cattle prod,¡± said Susan in a low voice as she inspected it. ¡°It cost 85 but it looks exactly like the one my granddad had on his farm.¡± She stood up and tried it out. There was an electric crackling noise, and she switched it off, looking perplexed. ¡°It¡¯s not supposed to make a sound.¡±
She jabbed the air again. And again it made that sharp static cracking as it moved through the air.
¡°I¡¯ve never seen one before,¡± said Jenny, wondering how effective it would be against an angel. They¡¯d probably find out soon enough.
¡°My parents would take me every summer,¡± she said, switching it off and holding it. ¡°I¡¯d sneak out to the barn and fight¡ bad guys with this.¡±
¡°Bad guys?¡± Jenny pictured a younger Susan swinging the prod through the air and keeping her family safe from invisible enemies. How did she manage to be so cute even in the depths of hell?
Susan was blushing. ¡°I¡¯d never use it on a cow¡¡± She clicked it on and then off. ¡°It¡¯s crazy how it smells the same when you butcher an animal.¡± She motioned towards the angel on the floor.
Its guts had leaked out with so much blood that some of it had reached Jenny¡¯s boots. Looking at all of it made her feel even sicker, and the stench of decay and insides wasn¡¯t helping.
¡°Seven hundred and two,¡± whispered Susan.
Jenny didn¡¯t have to ask to know what that number meant. It hadn¡¯t been that long since this survival challenge had started. Dread wrapped its cold sharp claws around her chest and squeezed. She grabbed Susan¡¯s hand, feeling like she had to say something. ¡°Thank you for not leaving me in that room.¡±
Susan blinked, her eyes watery. ¡°If I¡¯d left, I¡¯d probably be¡¡±
¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± said Jenny firmly. ¡°If you left, we¡¯d both be dead right now. But since we¡¯re together¡ I don¡¯t know. I feel like¡¡± She took a deep breath. Prom felt so silly and stupid and far away. ¡°I feel like we can do this.¡±
¡°Me too,¡± said Susan. She tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.
¡°Let¡¯s just pretend it¡¯s a new game we¡¯re trying out,¡± said Jenny. ¡°A horror game and we only have one life. But we¡¯re a duo.¡±
Susan shut her eyes and nodded. ¡°I hate horror.¡±
¡°Same,¡± said Jenny.
¡°Okay. Where¡¯s your brother?¡±
¡°His geometry class was downstairs.¡± Jenny swallowed hard. ¡°He might still be in his room or¡¡±
¡°We¡¯ll find him,¡± said Susan. Then she straightened her back and took a deep breath. It was something she always did when she wanted to focus. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll stop whining. Let¡¯s go find your brother and anyone else we can help.¡±
Holding her cattle prod like a sword, she marched over to the double doors and looked through the little glass circular window each door had.
Jenny wondered if Susan was also thinking about their other friends. Their teachers. Their classmates. She tried not to think about Harry or the girl whose neck that angel had been sucking on.
She hoped there were others who¡¯d figured out how to use the system. Maybe if they could find a group, they could fight back. But what had the system said? The victor shall be rewarded.
Did that mean there would only be one victor? Would this survival challenge last until one human was left? Jenny squeezed her hatchet. She wanted to pray, but she didn¡¯t even know what to pray to anymore. It looked like she¡¯d managed to give Susan some courage. Now if only she could give herself some too.
4. Hiding in a Bathroom
Jenny looked back at the gloomy English wing hallway. The bodies on the floor. The bloody smears along the wall. It was quiet, but it was that thick pregnant sort of quiet right before something horrible happened in a movie.
She guessed that more angels had come in through the windows of the other classrooms, and while she and Susan had fought the one in their room, the others weren¡¯t so lucky. Most people must have run for the stairwells, the way they¡¯d practiced for fire drills. But after the earthquake and with these angel things¡ it must have been a blind panic.
Where would they even run to? The first floor? Could anyone even exit the building? They clearly weren¡¯t in Manhattan anymore. Jenny couldn¡¯t help looking at the girl on the floor.
Her head was at an awkward angle with a few glistening strands of muscle still attaching it to her body. Her eyes stared blankly, her mouth parted in lifeless shock. She must have been a freshman. Maybe a sophomore. Jenny pictured the younger girl tripping in the mad rush to escape, screaming as an angel grabbed her leg while all her friends and classmates and teachers kept running.
¡°I don¡¯t see anymore out there,¡± said Susan, who peered through the double doors.
Jenny took a breath, and together they pushed through the doors and left the English wing behind them. Slowly, they stepped into the main area where every wing of the floor met. This led to the central stairwell. Down the hall across from where they stood, a light flickered in the Biology wing.
¡°Let¡¯s not take these stairs,¡± whispered Jenny. She barely dared to breathe. Those things seemed to be attracted to sound. Maybe their empty eyes couldn¡¯t see clearly?
Susan agreed. ¡°Let¡¯s cut through here,¡± she said, pointing to the Foreign Language department. It was a narrow hallway that led away from the central stairwell to another smaller one.
They turned the corner slowly, trying not to look at the bodies that were thankfully facedown on the floor. Susan stepped in blood.
The Foreign Languages hallway was clear, but Jenny still held her breath as they walked towards the stairwell at the end. Something rattled one of the classroom doors hard. Jenny whirled around ready to attack. ¡°Someone¡¯s in there,¡± she whispered, holding her hatchet with both hands.
Susan clicked her cattle prod on. Its static sound was almost comforting.
Jenny inched forward slowly trying to get a look through the little classroom window. It was dark inside with most of the shades drawn, but she recognized it was the French class that Susan had taken last year. A shadow moved through the gloom, rushing towards the door. Jenny stepped back just in time as the glass window shattered and an angel''s head burst through, screeching and hissing. Its cries echoed throughout the hall.
Tarnished Angel (Level 4)
Susan reacted first, thrusting her prod against its face. The prongs made contact with its nose, and it stopped screeching. It violently jerked with its head struck through the door, and Jenny took the opportunity to bury her hatchet in its forehead.
You¡¯ve defeated Tarnished Angel (Level 4)
Experience has been awarded
+10 Energy gained
Leveled up!
Jenny Huang Level 2 -> Level 3
+2 Stat Points
Breathing hard, Jenny stepped back wanting to study the angel. What was the difference now that it was level 4? But they heard shuffling and hissing echoing down the hall. It came from the direction of the biology department, and it was getting louder.
She glanced at Susan whose eyes went wide. Then Jenny spotted the boy¡¯s bathroom. They¡¯d never make it to the stairwell, but maybe they could hide. She grabbed Susan¡¯s arm and pulled her inside, carefully shutting the door so it wouldn¡¯t make a sound. There was no knob, no lock. It was a push-to-open door.
The stench of the bathroom was thick and miasmic, and she clenched her teeth to keep from gagging. Susan gasped, and Jenny turned around, keeping her back pressed to the door, and saw what was causing the smell.
On the floor beside the urinals was another blonde angel glistening in the dim white glow coming in through a small window near the ceiling. It wasn¡¯t moving. Neither were the three boys lying beside it, bloodied and torn up.
Jenny gripped her hatchet tight when she heard shuffling in the hall. She ground her heels against the floor, wondering how long she¡¯d be able to hold them off if they pushed. She applied the 2 stat points she¡¯d received for leveling up to Power hoping it would help keep the door shut.
One of the boys on the floor coughed, and Susan dropped down with an alarmed look on her face. She quickly pressed her hand over the boy¡¯s mouth, trying to stifle his coughing.
Jenny could almost feel one of the angels outside the door, breathing down her back. She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. She didn¡¯t want to die in a boy¡¯s bathroom. It seemed like they hadn¡¯t heard the coughing.
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Susan struggled with the boy on the floor. Blood gushed from his neck. His arms moved feebly, trying to resist Susan¡¯s hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes were wide, and Jenny recognized him as Mark. The boy in her gym class last year who¡¯d been nice to her when she had nothing to do during free-play time. He¡¯d shown her how to shoot a basketball.
He was a junior now, and they didn¡¯t have any classes together this year, but they¡¯d still say hi when they passed each other in the hall.
¡°Please,¡± whispered Susan, bringing her face close to his. ¡°They¡¯re right outside.¡± She looked up at Jenny with a desperate expression on her face. Mark either couldn¡¯t hear her or he was beyond understanding. He kept trying to pull her hand off his face.
We have to kill him. The thought made Jenny¡¯s stomach lurch. He was clearly suffering, and if he exposed them, they¡¯d all die.
She remembered what the guidance system had said. Equipment tools, and weapons. Could she summon something to heal Mark?
She looked at the angel lying dead on the floor with its head in a urinal. She didn¡¯t recognize the two other boys beside it. They must have fought the angel together with their bare hands. But since they killed it, did that mean Mark had his First Blood bonus? Which meant he had points he could use, if only they could get him to calm down so they could explain.
She had to use her imagination, right? She had to imagine what she wanted and the system would apply a cost. Alright. She shut her eyes, tried not to think about the angels scurrying up and down the hall outside, and pictured a potion. Something like the ones she¡¯d pick up in games to restore her health. She pictured a glass vial of red liquid. Red signified health, that much she was certain of.
A Minor Potion of Recovery will cost 100 Energy. Insufficient Energy.
Fuck, she thought. She was 25 short. She knew Susan wouldn¡¯t have any to spare after making her cattle prod. But Mark might. Now how was she supposed to explain that to him while still holding the door?
She thought about the other angel she¡¯d fought, the one in the French classroom. Angels didn¡¯t seem to understand how doors worked. It couldn''t turn the handle and it attacked the door mindlessly. So maybe if she tiptoed, she could get to Susan and Mark and explain how he could craft a potion to save his life.
If they¡¯re quiet enough, the angels won¡¯t hear them and try to get in. It was risky, but they could manage it. And if it worked, they¡¯d have three people instead of two to fight them.
Just as Jenny worked up the courage to step away from the door, a loud crash made her freeze. A deafening hissing filled her ears, and Jenny realized there were way more creatures than she¡¯d initially thought. But there was another crash, followed by a shrill scream that made her blood run cold.
She glanced at Susan who looked just as terrified as Jenny felt. The walls shook. Violent sounds and hissing and screeching came from outside. Dust drifted down like snow on Susan''s blue hair. Something slammed against the wall just beside the door. ?Jenny shut her eyes and braced herself for the worst if whatever commotion was happening outside forced its way into the bathroom.
It sounded like a fight. Something else was fighting these angels. Throwing them around. Cutting them down. Was it another student? Maybe one of the teachers?
Hope made her heart pound hard against her chest. Maybe someone else had figured out how to make use of this system thing and leveled up enough to fight these creatures head-on. She felt dizzy with relief. Were they saved? Praying, she listened as best she could, trying to figure out what was going on.
She heard a pitiful mewling followed by a thick snap. Then there was silence. No hissing or footsteps or anything, and Jenny couldn¡¯t take it anymore.
¡°I¡¯m going to check what that was,¡± she mouthed slowly to Susan who shook her head no, looking frightened. Jenny bit her lip, but turned anyway to pull on the door slightly, just a sliver.
Cool air from the hall tickled her nose. In the pasty white gloom, she saw what had caused the commotion. Her heart sank.
Several angels lay strewn about on the floor. None of them were moving. On all fours was something bigger than the angels she¡¯d seen before. Its back was broad and more defined and wasn¡¯t just exposed skin. Instead, it was green and glossy, like an insect¡¯s exoskeleton. And it held one of the angels like a rag doll while it chewed on its face.
Wretched Angel (Level 12)
It turned its head as it snapped off the thinner angel¡¯s skull. The Wretched Angel¡¯s face was covered in that same green scale-like thing. It had long dark hair that bounced while it chewed, and, while it was still slim, it wasn¡¯t as ragged and bony as the other angels.
It dropped the now headless angel corpse and moved to another. Its movements were strange, even though it was on all fours like the other angels had been. It favored one arm over the other, and as it moved, Jenny saw a nasty gash across one of its green shoulders. It was hurt from the fight.
The Wretched Angel¡ was that some sort of evolution then? Did it level up as well then? From killing people? Killing other angels?
Jenny realized with a chill that the angels were in the system too. They were partaking in the Survival Challenge. She nearly dropped the hatchet. Her palms were sweating. The angels were also getting stronger. She realized it was only a matter of time before it noticed her or ventured into the bathroom. And if they wanted to get to the stairwell, to get to Oliver, they¡¯d have to fight it or something like it at some point.
And she didn¡¯t want to fight it in the bathroom where there¡¯d be no space to swing her hatchet. She took a deep, shaking breath as she listened to it eating the other angels. Sweat ran down her back. She bit her lip. There was one thing that was for certain: if she wanted to live, she¡¯d have to get much, much stronger.
This was so unfair. All she¡¯d wanted was to get on with her life. Graduate. Get away from her family. Get away from her mom.
Her mom¡¯s voice filled her head, screaming at her to find Oliver.
She wondered what her mom would do in this situation. How would she handle all this carnage and death? Jenny just wanted to sob and scream and pull out her hair. She wanted to break all the mirrors in the bathroom and smash everything she possibly could. But what good would that do now?
It was oddly familiar to how she felt at home. Fighting with her mom, slamming the door, sobbing into her pillow, wishing she wasn¡¯t here.
But she was here. Stuck in this nightmare. And she was at least getting stronger. She¡¯d killed a bunch of them already. This wasn¡¯t like home. She wasn¡¯t powerless. She wasn¡¯t just going to hide in her room and cry and play video games until she passed out. She shut her eyes and sucked in a breath and made her decision.
She clutched her hatchet, feeling the tiniest bit comforted by having it in her hands. She looked back at Susan who had Mark¡¯s head on her lap, trying to console him, still pressing her palm down on his lips as he struggled.
Without a word, Jenny stepped out into the hall. She didn¡¯t want to see Susan¡¯s reaction. She didn¡¯t want to second guess her decision to fight this thing. At the very least, she resolved to lead it away from the bathroom so Susan and Mark could figure out a way to get out.
5. Fight or Die Fighting
Jenny licked her lips, not taking her eyes off the Wretched Angel. It had noticed her as soon as she¡¯d stepped out of the bathroom, but it hadn¡¯t attacked. Instead, it seemed to be observing her with those vacant white eyes. Its green face glistened like an insect¡¯s shell. She heard it swallow a chunk of angel flesh, a wet disgusting sound that made her grimace.
The creature dropped down on all fours, favoring its uninjured right arm. It still looked oddly human, just like the other angels had. Its long dark hair fell across its face, and Jenny brushed her own back.
The green skin didn¡¯t cover everything; its breasts and belly and inner thighs were still pale and bare, but it was looking less like a skeleton with skin. She got the feeling that it wasn¡¯t fully transformed yet, and she didn¡¯t want to know what a completed transformation would look like. The angel opened its mouth, revealing glistened blood-stained teeth.
Unlike the Tarnished Angels, it didn¡¯t hiss. It hadn¡¯t even charged her mindlessly. She¡¯d braced herself for that and had been ready to rush into the stairwell to lead it away. Instead, it seemed wary of her hatchet and was sizing her up. It had intelligence, she realized. Could these creatures think?
Jenny stepped over a corpse. There were slash marks across its face and body that looked very much like claw marks. She glanced at the Wretched Angel¡¯s hands and saw long green fingernails. So, it wouldn¡¯t just grab her. It would scratch and tear and rip her open. But its green covering gave Jenny an idea.
She adjusted her grip on the hatchet, painfully aware of how quiet the hallway was and the stench of blood in her nose. Armor, she thought. Just like with the healing potion, she could imagine herself some protection.
Without looking away from the angel¡¯s blank stare, Jenny pictured what she wanted. Something lightweight that wouldn¡¯t slow her down. Something to keep those nails from ripping through her. Something to stop those teeth from sinking into her flesh.
Light armor will cost 30 Energy for upper body equipment and 25 Energy for lower body equipment. Sufficient Energy.
Fuck yes! She had just enough.
0 Energy remaining.
Golden light encircled her. She saw the Wretched Angel¡¯s eyes widening. It took a step back.
The light felt like a weighted blanket, comforting and warm. Her Stanford hoodie melted away, and she shuddered as her jeans did the same. For a moment, she was bare and trembling as the angel watched. It seemed afraid of the light. Hesitating like a wild animal startled by fire.
She shuddered as the light turned liquid and pressed against her body. It felt cool and warm at the same time, oddly soothing as it solidified. The red fabric of her hoodie became layers and layers of what looked like fish scales, dark red and glistening. It was like she was wearing a long sleeve made out of some metallic fabric that also covered her hands like fingerless gloves.
Her grip on the hatchet felt studier; she wouldn¡¯t have to worry about it slipping because of sweaty palms. Her dark jeans had changed as well: dark blue scales that ran down her legs. The armor hugged her body without feeling constraining.
A wild thrill filled Jenny¡¯s chest as she stared down the angel. It was so much stronger than her if levels meant what she thought they did. Green and monstrous and a cannibalistic nightmare. And she was just a tiny high school senior¡ So why was she giddy?
There was something freeing about choosing to fight, she realized. It was fight or die, and she was betting her entire life on this. No holding back. No respawning. A fight to the death. Or was she so beyond terrified that she was delirious?
¡°Alright,¡± she said, sucking in a deep breath and preparing herself. ¡°C¡¯mon then, you stupid fuckface. Eat my ass.¡±
The hallway was dim and gloomy again. The angel bared its teeth and placed one hand in front of the other, its green skin glistening like a roach¡¯s shell. She got the feeling it was studying her change, calculating.
She stepped forward, holding her hatchet with both hands, mindful of the bodies on the floor. She didn¡¯t want to trip and give it an opportunity. The angel screamed, the same warbled scream she¡¯d heard earlier from the bathroom, and it charged. Its gait awkward and clumsy, it knocked the other angels¡¯ bodies aside and rushed towards her. A look of pure malice on its face.
It closed the distance so quickly; Jenny barely had a chance to react. She sidestepped and swung. The angel swiped with its good arm. Jenny cried out and swung. She struck nothing but air. The Angel¡¯s nails bounced off her armor in a flurry of sparks as it went flying by.
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Jenny stumbled back. The impact of its nails against her chest armor hurt and she knew she¡¯d definitely be lying on the floor with her chest split open if it wasn¡¯t for the armor. She tried to steady her breath, adjusting her grip on the hatchet. One clean hit. If she could just chop off an arm or better yet, bury her hatchet in its neck, then it would be enough.
The Wretched Angel circled around her, limping in a strangely chimp-like way. Its green skin glistening. Its face distorted in rage. With a snarl, it lunged. The movement was so sudden and quick, it was in her face, and she was falling backward. It had thrown all of its weight against her.
Crying out, she landed on her back but managed to bring one knee up, driving it into the creature¡¯s exposed belly. It growled and slobbered, but it couldn¡¯t reach her face with its teeth. Saliva and blood and chunks of flesh rained down on her face as she struggled to keep it away with her leg. Then it grabbed her hair and yanked so hard she swore it would rip her scalp off.
Screaming, Jenny raised her left arm out of reflex, trying to push the angel off. But it took the opportunity to bite down on her forearm. The armor crackled as its teeth sunk in. Its eyes, empty and ferocious and bulging, stared right into her own as pain shot through her arm.
Her vision blurry from the pain, she swung the hatchet with her other arm. There wasn¡¯t enough space to get proper momentum, but the edge sliced into the exposed flesh of its belly. The angel released her and shrieked, a loud throaty shriek that echoed all over and made her head spin.
¡°Get off,¡± she screamed, kicking it with all her might. Her boot struck where she¡¯d cut the creature, and it scrambled away, clutching itself.
Blood splattered the floor with its every step, and it clambered over another angel¡¯s corpse, snarling.
Jenny climbed to her feet breathless and sweaty. She looked at the teeth marks in her arm. Some of the red scales were cracked. It felt wet beneath the armor. The angel''s teeth had punctured her skin. Her head felt like it was on fire from where it had pulled her hair, and tears ran down her cheeks, but she couldn¡¯t help but feel triumphant.
She wiped the blood and sweat off her face with the back of her hand, ignoring the sharp pain in her arm. Her heart raced, and everything ached, but she felt alive. So much more alive than ever before. This rush was like nothing she¡¯d felt before. Sure, she¡¯d pop off in games and go on a kill streak while everyone cheered her on. And that would feel exciting and awesome, but this¡ this was exhilarating beyond belief.
The angel seemed hurt pretty bad now. She was glad she¡¯d put her points into Power before. But maybe next time, she¡¯d try Agility or Stamina. Her lungs burned, and the only thing keeping her going was adrenaline. And she was too slow. If the angel hadn¡¯t already been injured, she got the feeling it would''ve been much faster, and she¡¯d never have kept up.
If one of its claws had found her face, it would¡¯ve gouged out an eye or ripped out her nose.
Blood dripped off the sharp edge of her hatchet. Something wet dribbled down her forehead and onto her eye. Blood or angel spittle or sweat, it stung. Out of reflex, she raised a hand to wipe her brow, and the Wretched Angel charged again.
This time it didn¡¯t scream. Blood spilling from its belly, it rushed forward with a surprising burst of speed on its hands and feet. Jenny swung hard in a desperate bid to decapitate the creature, but it dropped low to the ground.
Dodging the hatchet, it leaped from underneath her, ramming it shoulder into Jenny¡¯s torso with enough force to push all the air out of her lungs and knock her off her feet.
The hatchet skidded away. The back of her head struck the floor with a loud crack. Pain, blood red and hot, burst through her thoughts and clouded her vision.
It hurt to breathe, but she sucked in several shallow breaths, wondering if this was how she died. She should''ve just run and let it chase her down the stairwell or something. Anything. Groaning, she reached for her hatchet, but the dark hallway seemed to be spinning uncontrollably.
She blinked as she felt a weight on top of her. The angel¡¯s lips curled into a sinister grin, its green face hovering over her. It raised an arm, and she clenched her jaws, unable to even raise her arm to fight back.
But instead of slashing her across the face, it froze. Its entire body trembled violently, its green skin shimmering uncontrollably as it let out a distorted wail. Jenny heard the crackling of Susan¡¯s cattle prod and then saw her blue hair.
The angel whirled around and struck Susan, knocking her against the wall. Then it lunged and grabbed her leg, pulling so hard that her head struck the wall as she collapsed to the floor.
Susan cried out, kicking and trying to scramble out of its grip. But the angel bit down on Susan¡¯s leg, its teeth sinking into the round flesh of her calf. Susan screamed.
Her scream was so shrill and loud and heartbreaking that Jenny felt goosebumps. She forced herself up, reaching blindly and desperately for her hatchet. Her fingers curled around its handle, and she crawled as quickly as she could over to the angel.
Suddenly, it wasn¡¯t a rush anymore. There was no excitement. Only the cold hard feeling that she wanted the creature dead. With a shout, she swung the hatchet with every ounce of strength she had left.
The sharp edge connected with the angel¡¯s lower back, slicing into its green covering with a crack. The angel stopped tearing into Susan¡¯s leg and let go. What sounded like a wail came from its bloodied lips as its face hit the floor.
Huffing, Jenny wrenched the hatchet out of its back. Blood spurted out of the gash. The angel¡¯s entire body convulsed, and she realized she¡¯d cut through its spine.
The angel crawled forward, pulling itself with its arms and using its chin, still trying to get to Susan. Its legs didn¡¯t move. It wailed. The sound was gut-wrenching, like watching baby animals crying for their mothers, but Jenny only paused for a second.
She struck again, aiming for the back of its neck. This time, the edge sliced all the way through and clanged against the hallway floor so hard that the vibrations ran up her arms.
You¡¯ve defeated Wretched Angel (Level 12)
+50 Energy
Experience has been awarded accordingly.
Leveled up!
Jenny Huang Level 3 - > Level 7
+8 Stat Points
Hatchet Upgrade
Tier 1 - > Tier 2
6. How does a building go missing? (Nancy)
Rain and wind battered her as soon as Nancy Huang Spencer took the stairwell out of the underground subway station. She struggled with her umbrella; the wind threatened to steal her away, and a part of her almost wished it would.
Her pink rainboots splashed through puddles. She crossed several streets, then turned the corner, and finally arrived at the upscale restaurant where she worked. It was just off Times Square, and even with the unrelenting rain, countless people bustled up and down the busy city blocks. Nancy stepped inside, smiled at the morning concierge, waved to the kitchen staff, then rushed into the women¡¯s changing room to change and apply her makeup and convince herself not to cry.
Dressed in the white shirt, black pants, and black apron of her uniform, Nancy tied her hair back into a neat ponytail. Like her daughter, Nancy also had long dark hair. She was slender and pale and she¡¯d often get hit on by men mistaking her for a student. Even with the ring on her finger, guys couldn¡¯t seem to leave her alone, and a part of her still loved every bit of the attention.
That was how she ended up pregnant during her second semester in college by her Classical History professor. He was married with children and was tenured, and she didn¡¯t want him to get in any trouble, so she didn¡¯t tell him.
Her parents, furious, demanded to know who the father was, but Nancy kept quiet. Her friends, everyone she knew, begged her to get an abortion. This would ruin her life. She was only eighteen and being stupid and she couldn¡¯t even admit who the father was.
But Nancy had held firm. She couldn¡¯t explain why, but she knew she had to have this child. It wasn¡¯t rational. She knew it wasn¡¯t reasonable. It wasn¡¯t about pro-life or pro-choice like so many people had argued with her. It wasn¡¯t even about her Catholic upbringing. The whole thing sucked. Being pregnant and the disapproval and bitter disappointment from her family. But she didn¡¯t care.
She¡¯d just wanted her baby more than anything. She dropped out of school and raised Jenny as best she could. Her parents let her live with them till Jenny was three, and then Nancy and her baby were out on their own. She¡¯d done her best, hadn¡¯t she? She¡¯d found work. She stopped sleeping around and smoking weed; she¡¯d sacrificed everything she could for Jenny.
She still woke up in cold sweats wondering if she had enough in her account to see herself and Jenny through the week. If she could keep the electricity on in their one-bedroom rundown apartment. If she¡¯d have to tell Jenny that she was trying yet another diet and that¡¯s why mommy wouldn¡¯t be eating tonight; tap water would be plenty. It was strained, and maybe Nancy had screamed too often and lost her temper a lot, but it was the best she could do.
Nancy had tried talking to Henry about how she felt. She¡¯d known him for four years now, and they were finally family, but he took Jenny¡¯s side. He wanted her to do what was best for her, and while Nancy admired that... she didn¡¯t want to let her daughter go.
¡°Fuck,¡± she whispered when she¡¯d finished tucking in her shirt. She had to pee.
She got into a stall, undid her pants, and sat down, wishing she could call Henry, if only just to hear his deep, comforting voice. And she could pretend that she was at home, safe in his big strong arms, kissing and touching one another till nothing else mattered...
But intimacy felt impossible these days. Ever since Jenny announced her decision to go to Stanford and flaunting that dumb sweater all the time, it was one argument after another.
She couldn¡¯t even remember the fight from this morning. It all blurred together. It was always something dumb. She knew it was dumb. But she couldn¡¯t help herself. It felt like the only way to get Jenny¡¯s attention these days. The girl seemed to be constantly pushing away.
Nancy knew the things she said to her daughter didn¡¯t help at all. How could you be so selfish? Why do you want to leave us? Are you punishing me? It made her sound like her mother, and she didn¡¯t speak to her mother.
¡°Stupid, stupid,¡± she said to herself as she flushed. Ever since Henry and Oliver moved in, Jenny had drifted further and further away. Oliver would follow Jenny around, begging to play games and watch movies, and she would just distance herself. She was irritable all the time, she stopped going to church, and now this Stanford thing was too much.
Why couldn¡¯t she understand that all Nancy wanted was for her not to suffer like she did? Not to make the same dumb mistakes. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders and smoothed down her apron.
¡°Okay, Nancy,¡± she said to herself, eyes shut. ¡°Big smile. Everything will be okay.¡± Tonight, she¡¯d sit with Jenny and talk and figure it all out. And if Nancy had to move to California and take care of Jenny, then so be it.
As she pushed open the stall door, the lights flickered. The floor lurched violently, and she fell back onto the toilet seat. The door slammed shut, its metal parts rattling. She slid to the floor and brought her knees to her chest, hands over her head, trying to make herself as small as possible as everything shook. The water in the toilet sloshed, and the lid dropped with a loud bang. An earthquake? Here?
As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Nancy hesitantly lowered her hands. Other than the lights flickering, the rest of the bathroom looked fine. She got to her feet and stepped back into the changing room. Two other women were there, both of them looking as shocked as she felt but otherwise okay.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The taste of iron was in her mouth; she¡¯d bitten her tongue. But it wasn¡¯t too bad. Just a surprising shock. She sighed with relief, hoping the high school where Jenny and Oliver went was okay.
She pulled up her daughter''s name and pressed call. It went to voicemail. ¡°Okay,¡± she said to herself, pacing the room. It might''ve disrupted a cell tower or something. Or maybe everyone was dialing loved ones and emergency lines. There could be partial blackouts.
The other two women were saying something, both of them looking at their screens, but Nancy couldn¡¯t think straight. Her heart was racing much harder than it had when she¡¯d been stuck in the bathroom during the earthquake. Thoughts kept nagging and tugging, and she felt like she was choking. She called Oliver and got the same result. She texted both of them. Then called Jenny again. Nothing worked.
Finally, nearing the point of hysterics, she called Henry. He picked up.
¡°Oh my god, Nancy,¡± he said, breathing hard. In the background, there was incessant honking and shouting and the drumming of the rain. He must still be on his way to work. ¡°Are you alright? I¡¯ve been calling and calling, and nothing would connect.¡±
¡°Yes,¡± she said, hugging herself with one arm and still pacing. She was vaguely aware of one of her coworkers sobbing. ¡°I¡¯m safe. Nothing happened here. But I can¡¯t reach the kids.¡±
Henry was silent.
¡°Henry? The kids, Henry. Do you think you can drive by the school?¡±
¡°Nancy,¡± he said, but then his voice broke. ¡°Something¡¯s happened here. I¡¯m stuck in traffic. I don¡¯t think I can get out anytime soon.¡±
¡°Are you hurt?¡± she asked, wishing she¡¯d asked him that sooner. She was struggling against the urge to chew off her fingernails. ¡°Henry, are you hurt? Is it bad out there?¡±
¡°No,¡± he said. He took a loud breath. She heard him moving around. ¡°I¡¯m in the car. I¡¯m fine. But listen. A building here just... it¡¯s gone. There¡¯s just a big ugly hole in the ground now and people are freaking out. I¡¯m freaking out.¡±
¡°What?¡±
Did something hit him on the head? What was he talking about?
He continued, ¡°It was a hotel. The whole building... just gone. And look at the skyline. Nancy, this-¡±
The line went dead.
¡°Hello?¡± she whispered. She looked up as one of the others rushed out of the changing room.
The other one was sitting on a bench holding her phone. ¡°The Empire State Building,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡±
Nancy rushed over and looked at the phone. There was an ugly hole in the ground with exposed metal beams where the Empire State Building once stood. A massive crowd of people forming around it.
How could places just disappear? Dread and worry twisted into one sharp pain that throbbed from the center of her chest and radiated up to her head. She texted Jenny again. Then Oliver. The messages wouldn¡¯t even send.
¡°Please,¡± she whispered over and over as she looked through the news websites. Article after article popped up, and she read every headline quickly before swiping for the next.
Global Earthquake Shakes Every Corner of the Planet. Scientists Baffled.
Buildings Vanish in Freak Earthquake.
Hundreds of Thousands Presumed Missing.
Millions without energy.
Hospitals, holy sites, schools, hotels, museums, warehouses... She was tapping furiously at this point. St. Peter¡¯s Basilica, Oxford University, Masjid al-Haram, the Space Needle in Seattle; the lists just kept coming, each one longer than the last. She finally got to a webpage for New York.
Not daring to breathe, she scrolled through the list. Every few seconds, the page updated, and she lost her place and had to start again. An elementary school. A library. A hotel. A college building. A restaurant. She dropped the phone when she read Manhattan High School for the Sciences.
She rushed out of the changing room. In the main dining area, chairs were knocked over. Coworkers and the customers from the morning rush were huddled and taking pictures and consoling each other. Nancy felt like she was seeing them through a thick layer of plastic that cut her off from the rest of the world. Someone tried to speak to her, but she didn¡¯t even recognize them. She marched out the front door and stepped into the pouring rain.
Traffic was completely clogged. She looked down the street seeing nothing but taxis and large SUVs and even a mail truck. Everyone was honking. The rain was relentless, somehow worse than before, and she knew there would be no way to get a cab in this.
Her feet moved on their own. She¡¯d forgotten her boots and her coat. She was still in her restaurant uniform, running in black sandals. People were rushing back and forth; she weaved between them, her apron flapping, her arms pumping.
She slipped at an intersection when the strap of one of her sandals broke, and she broke the fall with her hands. Someone tried to help her up, but she pushed them away. Her pants were torn at the knees. Her palms were bleeding. Nancy yanked off her sandals and kept running.
The rain soaked her completely. Her ponytail whipped her cheeks. The pavement was unforgiving to the soles of her feet, but at least she didn¡¯t have to stop at any lights.
It couldn¡¯t be true. It was impossible. It must be a hoax. They must be lying. Buildings don¡¯t just go missing.
It could be a sinkhole. Maybe that was it. Maybe Jenny and the others were buried and first responders were digging them out right now. Please, God, she begged with every bit of her soul. Please. Please just let them be okay.
By the time she got near the school, some nineteen long city blocks later, Nancy was bleeding profusely from her hands and knees and feet. She was drenched in cold rainwater and sweat. Her lungs were on the verge of collapsing. Every step she took burned, and she was sure there was a pebble or piece of asphalt lodged in her heel. She couldn¡¯t see the school. It simply wasn¡¯t there. The surrounding buildings seemed just fine, but the school, her children¡¯s school was gone.
She pushed through the crowd of other parents wailing and shouting. She ducked under umbrellas and squeezed and squirmed her way to the front. She only stopped when she got to the blue barricades the police had set up. A cop shouted at her, something about staying back, the site was dangerous, but all she could hear was her own heart pounding.
She rubbed the rain from her eyes and blinked at the jagged hole in the ground. It was brown earth, with the rain collecting in a dark pool. As though some enormous entity had reached out and scooped the building up in an unruly fist.
She dropped to her knees, balling up her apron with both hands. She squeezed the cloth tight, unable to take her eyes off the gaping hole in the ground. She¡¯d stopped crying. Stopped gasping for air. Stopped rambling. All she could do was stare.
63. The Penultimate Cloud (Jibrail)
Jibra''il would be punished, his feathers torn out and nailed to the eyes that covered his back and arms and chest. How was he to face the other Archangels? He had failed.
He would be the last to reach the Monument. He could sense the presence of the other three above him, yet he slowed his ascent through the clouds, wings flapping at a hesitant pace. In the world of light, he''d reached such altitude that the only remaining light was not the light of the world, but the silver light emanating from his muscular form. His six wings flapped in turn, and the countless eyes that covered his body blinked and wept. Tears fell away like raindrops. His heart was heavy, for he had failed. And his failure would not go unpunished.
One hundred Survival Challenges had been issued at his command as they always have been. Every two thousand years when the worlds stood in order, in perfect harmony, he would rip one hundred puncture wounds in the fabric between worlds. One hundred Victors should have emerged as they have always emerged.
Though all hundred punctures were closed, only ninety-nine Victors returned to the material world. Only ninety-nine Survival Challenges ended.
One challenge remained in effect. This challenge had reached beyond the Veil and now threatened the very existence of the material world. The proper world. The world in which He was meant to emerge, truly victorious, inheritor of creation, the harbinger of destiny, to bring forth a Golden Age until the sacred trumpet was finally blown and all the worlds would kneel.
But now?
Jibra''il''s mighty wings beat nervously as he burst through another layer of cloud and emerged in a spray of glistening moisture. His long dark hair swished, and several feathers fell away, dissolving into vapor; he always shed when he was anxious.
The four archangels had been summoned; they had not met like this in tens of thousands of years, not since the inception of the Great Work.
Time used to roll forward slowly, from Challenge to Challenge, and Jibra''il had worked his best, instigating messiahs and guiding civilizations and harnessing rulers, but now, for a reason he could not explain or comprehend, he was certain time had accelerated. Time was no longer inconsequential. It was slipping through his feathered wingtips, and he was terrified of running out.
He was terrified the universe would end before the Great Work finished and they''d achieved perfection. It would''ve all been for naught. But these weren''t thoughts he was willing to share with the other archangels, so he prayed instead to Him, hoping He would share some guidance, some adjustment to the plan that would remedy everything. It was easier when orders came from Him; much less worrying on anyone else''s part. The Almighty''s will was absolute.
As he neared the Penultimate Cloud, the cloud before the Throne, it darkened and grew stormy as if the cloud could sense his conflictions. He had another reason to be hesitant; she was there. His once beloved. He wasn¡¯t ready to see her again.
One hundred thousand years had not been enough to dull the pain, but this was a summon he could not ignore.
Jibra''il retracted his exoskeleton. His was dark gray, metallic in appearance, and as it peeled back from his face, his silver light bloomed. Headfirst, he soared right into the dark underbelly of the cloud, and it welcomed him with a clap of thunder.
The raging storm battered him every which way, and he flapped his six wings furiously. Lightning crackled at his presence, curving around him, shooting through him, but other than a slight tickling sensation, it could not hurt him for how does light harm light? When he pierced the surface and emerged, he came to a stop with one final flap of his wings. Whisps of the cloud trailed away from his naked form, fading, precipitation dripping off his light, evaporating in hissing tendrils of steam.
Jibra''il smoothed his long dark hair back, away from his face as he took in the awe-inspiring view. The cloud wasn''t mighty in size as Jibra''il could''ve flown across it within moments, but it was higher than anything else in the worlds, save for the Throne, so it was called the Penultimate Cloud. The cloud closest to Him, closest to eternal paradise.
At its center stood the Monument, a black, box-shaped structure made from a material found nowhere else in any world. It produced no light or warmth and had absolutely no color, so its darkness was rather the absence of any light, any feature. Some called it the nothing box. Others called it the everything box. But most called it the frequented box, as hundreds of thousands of angels made pilgrimage to worship it every single day.
High above, like a multicolored halo, the worshiping angels flew in circles. This was the daily prayer; every day a new assortment of angels would rise to the heavens and worship Him.
As Jibra''il stepped carefully across the cloud, he could feel their radiating warmth. The vibrations of their prayers, their desperate cries for love and forgiveness, for perfection and glory, offering themselves completely in supplication to Him.
This was once Jibra''il''s favorite place. To sit up here by the Monument, to bathe himself in the light of countless prayers, to submit himself to prayer. Except now, he knew the other Archangels awaited him inside. And she was inside; his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again, though a part of him would rather tear his wings off and throw himself from the cloud.
He marched up to the Monument and passed through its front wall. The darkness sucked in his light and form, reverberated through him like an echo, scattering him before he emerged, whole again, on the other side. This was a privilege awarded only to the Archangels and select beloveds of the Almighty. No one else would survive the threshold.
The inside was an intimate space, small and cramped. Golden circular patterns glistened across every wall, including the ceiling, and they turned rhythmically, thrumming with light as he entered. The floor was the cloud itself, dark and storming.
Standing in the center of the space was a tall voluptuous figure shimmering with green light. His heart skipped a beat.
She wore a sheer emerald gown, the neckline cut so deep, it showcased her pale-green bosom and navel, and there were slits along the bottom that revealed her long legs. She had long, silvery hair, a high forehead, and piercing eyes that were all black, set on a face as green as her gown. She was the archangel, Rafa''el. The Flower. The Scribe. The Trumpet Blower.
Angel (stage v) (level 200)
"You took your time, beloved," she said, her voice as clear and gentle as a ritual bell on an early spring morning. Jibra''il averted his eyes, unable to hold her gaze, and certainly not able to look at her form. Though none of them wore their exoskeletons in the Monument, she wasn''t like most angels; she preferred human attire and always wore exceptional garments that accentuated her form. It was pleasing, she''d say. For her own eyes, and His, and, she''d add with a shy smile, Jibra''il''s.
On either side stood the other two archangels. The one to the right was Mika''el who radiated with blue and purple light in turn, sometimes as bright as the sky just before sunrise, sometimes as dark as a bruise.
Angel (stage vi) (level 741)
She leaned against a swirling golden pattern, her arms crossed and her eyes shut. She was slender and lean, not as tall as Rafa''el, but she preferred to be small. She''d presented as male for centuries until deciding it wasn''t right for her, slimming down to a more streamlined presence that was better suited for war. Even her wings were minimal, growing between her arms and her sides like webbing. Mika''el was the Warrior. The Relentless Storm. The Inciter.
On the left was Azra''il, the archangel of death. His form was muscular and wide; he took up quite a bit of space inside the monument, and his light was charcoal colored, like the ashes after the flames had burned out.
Angel (stage vi) (level 332)
Four enormous wings curled inwards on his back, countless eyes shining across them. He was the largest of the archangels. With a necklace of skulls over his broad chest, his hair a colony of miniature red and black serpents, each one undulating and moving of their own free will. Their scales shone like rubies stained with blood. Azra''il was the Guide. The Hellfire. And the Warden. Around his waist was a strap of leather that covered his modesty, but the leather was cut from the skin of the Tarnished, a new one every day, and Jibra''il had always found that unsettling.
Like Mika''el, Jibra''il much preferred to come naked, unashamed, for it was not his body that ever brought him shame. It was his failures. The messiahs he''d failed to save from evil whispers, the challenges he''d overseen. Neither of the other two angels spoke. They must be furious. They didn''t even look at him as he approached, taking careful steps over the cloud floor. It reacted with his every step, electrical energy sizzling up his toes and curving around his silver legs.
"Kneel," said Rafa''el, raising her voice to that grand splendor Jibra''il had once loved so dearly. It was her commanding voice. Her powerful voice. She held out her hand and unfurled her slender, green fingers to reveal a bright, red fruit.
Jibra''il knelt on the storm cloud, his arms at his side, lightning tickling his knees. He picked the fruit off Rafa''el''s hand with his teeth, unable to stop himself from glancing at her body. It made him jealous, knowing the other two had knelt here as well, had eaten the fruit off her beautiful hand, had seen her chest and hips from this angle, but jealousy was a sin.
Staring into her eyes as she stroked his hair, his lips closed around the fruit, and he crushed it between his teeth. Blood, hot and thick, gushed into his mouth and ran down his throat. The heavy fluid spread through his silver body, the redness curling and blooming before fading, and he shuddered as he absorbed it.
"Rise," she said in her grand voice, and Jibra''il stood. He came up to her chest where her gown split open, and she held him to the green warmth of her bosom. "It has been too long since I''ve seen you last, my beloved one." This she spoke quietly, in the private, whispered voice shared only between angels who''d known the other''s light intimately.
He shut his eyes and sighed, the fruit¡¯s blood still streaming from his lips and absorbing into his form as he basked in her glow. She was the light of life itself, he liked to think. Like the plants that covered the material world; he wanted her to cover him. To grow all over him and into him. Her embrace was so soft, so welcoming, and he longed for the days they''d been lovers. But so many years had passed since he''d held her in the privacy of their cloud chambers, their light blended into one, silver and emerald, like treetops shivering in moonlight, that he felt he had no right to overstay his welcome.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
He had loved her more furiously and more passionately than any star in any universe could ever dream of burning. And he loved her still, and he knew he''d always love her, all the way to the end of time, when all the lights of all the worlds had run out of Energy, and all that remained was darkness. He would love her through eternity.
But it had been easier to love her before, when it hadn''t hurt, when Jibra''il had been Jibra''el, and their eyes and wings would blink in unison, inseparable as salt in the winds of the sea. Then the Almighty had chosen Rafa''el as the scribe, to carve the ruminations of destiny onto the ancient Tablet with her ability, Veridian Scripture. She''d been claimed by Him, and they''d realized that they loved each other more than Him. That was the gravest sin of all, and she had made her decision.
In grief, Jibra''el transformed into Jibra''il. Taking the shape of a man, untangling himself from Rafa''el because it only hurt. It always hurt.
Stepping away, Jibra''il took her hand and kissed the fingers that marked down time itself, and she touched his cheek, a longing, mournful gaze in her eyes that asked countless questions. Are you alright? I miss you. I hope you are well. But she turned away with a swish of her gown, and he stepped back, the customary conditions satisfied for the discussion of holy matters.
"Have you heard the news?" she said.
Jibra''il looked at the others. He''d expected admonishment. Anger. They''d already known that a Survival Challenge hadn''t ended. Mika''el sighed and didn''t say a word, but she met Jibra''il''s eyes and glowered, her skin more purple than blue.
Azra''il picked at the teeth of one of his necklace skulls with a long fingernail. "Mortals have awakened abilities to challenge our own," he said in a deep, gravelly voice. His brows were furrowed. They were serpents too, their heads meeting at the center where their tongues darted between his blood-red eyes. "There were two, in fact."
Jibra''il dimmed with confusion. "The count stopped at ninety-nine. The work has not been completed. Isn''t that why we''ve gathered? I have failed."
Azra''il shook his head. His serpents whisked about. "You haven''t failed, dear brother. You orchestrated the Challenges as you always do. This crime was the work of interlopers."
"What?" Jibra''il. He simultaneously felt relief and anxiety; relief that he wasn''t to blame, anxiety for what he didn¡¯t know.
"Interlopers," repeated Rafa''el. ¡°The Antithesis has made its presence known.¡± She sank to the cloud floor, her emerald gown spreading like the petals of a flower. She looked so beautiful, it ached to stare for too long, but Jibra''il realized it was her way of ordering everyone to sit. She was the weakest in level, but Rafa¡¯el was the closest to Him. She held authority over all angels, all creation.
The others slid to the floor as well. Azra''il squatted, the leather cloth flapping between his thighs, his broad chest presented proudly. Mika''el sat with her legs folded beneath her, her hands folded neatly on her lap, her webbed wings nearly invisible.
Jibra''il completed the circle, his fingers digging into his palms, his legs crossed beneath him. He saw Rafa¡¯el¡¯s gaze flicker toward his manhood, but he didn¡¯t move to cover himself. "I thought it was me. I thought my sins... I thought my abilities had failed. I thought I had failed."
Rafa¡¯el smiled at him, her green eyes shimmering as she shook her head. "No, my beloved, you could never fail. You have always been dutiful in carrying out His will."
He knew that if she could, she''d reach out and touch him, not in the welcoming way she''d embraced him before, but the deeper way, where their lights would merge. He knew that he would let her, despite the sanctity of the Monument, and he knew that that was why she would never.
Rafa¡¯el continued. "The Challenge could not conclude due to the actions of two young mortals. Their love..." She paused on the word ¡®love¡¯ and glanced to the side. "It was their love, foolish and naive love that bound them together. One actualized an ability to reconstruct reality. The other severed her ties between spirit and form, becoming as the Tarnished do. Together, they circumvented the Challenge and returned to their world alongside other mortals whose sacrifice was foregone. No true Victor emerged, and thus the Survival Challenge continues within the material world itself. Our Guidance System has already responded to these circumstances."
Jibr¡¯il shook his head. His wings stretched by reflex, all his eyes opening and shutting across his body, and he saw Mika''el¡¯s large eye, the one on her chest, spring open in shock. But she regained her composure quickly, and Jibra''il tried to do the same. He put his face in his hands.
"Do you need a moment?" asked Rafa¡¯el.
"No," said Jibra''il through his fingers. "I just do not understand. This is not how humans behave. In every Survival Challenge issued to humankind, they have never... they always, without fail, surrendered relentlessly to their needs." His wings flickered again, and it took more willpower than he was proud to admit to fold them back into place and shut all his eyes. He knew why she''d asked him and the others to sit. Had they been standing, he would''ve paced back and forth, and the storm beneath them would have responded in kind.
"It seems we have underestimated them," said Azra''il. He clucked his tongue. "You should see them in Hell. Filthy creatures."
"Hold your tongue," said Rafa''el coldly. "We do not speak ill of the dead. They serve their purpose."
"No, but they speak plenty ill to each other." Azra''il snorted. "Come listen to them when I administer the divine punishments. How they beg. How they scream. They would sell their own mothers, their own children to avoid it."
As they went back and forth, Jibra''il''s mind spun. Humans. He''d lived among their kind for so long. He''d watched civilizations emerge and fall. Rulers and ravagers, it was always the same. Brief moments of kindness and love, followed by tremendous strings of tragedy.
Humans always ruthlessly sought one thing: to meet their desires. Whether it was food or rest, mating or violence, humans were ruled by the needs and wants of their bodies. It was why sinful angels were punished, Tarnished, forced into physical flesh, forced to succumb to such madness, and prevented from ascending to divinity. To be material was to be sinful, and that was the nature of the Great Work. To eliminate all sin. To eradicate the cravings of the flesh. For all to be clean and holy.
He almost wanted to reject Rafa''el''s news. But he knew she could not lie. She was unable to. She could not so much as even bend the truth, for since becoming the Scribe, she only spoke of things written on the Tablet.
And for the survival challenge to be in effect in the material world... effectively Rapture... this was the final war, whether they liked it or not. Whether it had been part of the plan or not, and he knew Rafa¡¯el was shaken by this. It had not appeared on the tablet. It had not been projected. It had not been ordained. She would¡¯ve informed all His angels if that were the case.
The final war was here, and if they waited too long, there would be nothing left. The material world would devour itself; humankind would end before they could be saved. And if they failed here, it would be the end of the Great Work.
He sat quietly, ruminating, as Rafa''el told the rest of the tale once Azra''il''s distaste for humanity had quieted. Mika¡¯el stood once as if she had something to say, but she stared at them blankly, crossed her arms and shook her head, and sat back down. Lightning coursed through her blue and purple glow, and Azra''il had only laughed. Rafa''el squeezed Mika¡¯el¡¯s hand, and she shot Jibra''il a worried look before continuing.
She explained the ending of the unfinished challenge. Jibra''il was curious. It was obfuscated for some reason, and he''d sensed something powerful was at play. Which was why he''d fled. He''d assumed he''d sinned. He''d assumed he''d be punished severely, but as Rafa¡¯el explained the details, and even Azra''il leaned forward to listen, Jibra''il''s feeling of unease grew monstrous.
One of the mortals had slaughtered her beloved in a Desecrated state of mind, and this confirmed his belief that humans were beyond sense, but the other, the mortal¡¯s beloved, had openly sacrificed herself. Offered herself to save the Desecrated, to absolve the Desecrated of all sin. And her ability to reconstruct matter flowed into the severer.
"What of them?" asked Azra''il. His red eyes burned brightly as he raised his voice. "The dead one has been collected. She''d come peacefully. We should find the other."
¡°She has moved beyond our view,¡± said Rafa¡¯el.
Jibra¡¯il was speechless. Did the mortal know what she was capable of? Did she know the threat she posed? Despite this, he had the horrible foreboding that Rafa¡¯el had even worse news to share.
"The worst," spoke Rafa¡¯el, lowering her gaze, her hand raised slightly, fingers moving as though she were marking the Tablet as she spoke. "The worst is what the severer did upon rejecting Victory, rejecting the challenge, and returning to the Material world."
They all held their breath, their lights shimmering. The golden patterns on the walls turned quickly, as if they too were disturbed by the news.
Rafa¡¯el took a deep breath, her green light shining brilliantly before fading. "She''s become the Second Mary and given birth. The Antithesis now has material form.¡±
"NO!" shouted Azra''il. Lightning shot through his enormous form, transforming into vicious red shades before crackling all around him. Every single one of his serpents hissed.
Mika gasped. They had waited two thousand years for a new Mary, to birth the Almighty into the world. And now even that was undone. This Mary, this second Mary, had plunged all the worlds into chaos. She''d birthed the Antithesis. The Antichrist. The Unbecoming.
They had known the Antithesis would emerge one day. It was written on the Tablet by Rafa''s hand. The details had remained obscured, but this? This was... this was madness. Birthed by a Mary? Birthed from a Survival Challenge? The Great Plan had always been to bring Rapture about themselves after the conclusion of the final Survival Challenge. For Him to reawaken in the material world and forge an army of light from the victors. So that when the Antithesis arrived, the worlds would be well prepared to protect creation.
But here they were. This was the present. The now. This was what had come to pass.
"Will He see us?" asked Jibra''il in a low voice. He longed to see the Almighty, to stand in His presence, to bow his head in shame and beg forgiveness. To seek guidance. It had been two thousand years since he¡¯d seen the Almighty last as only Rafa¡¯el was permitted to fly up to the Throne. Another pang of jealousy struck his heart. Jealousy that Rafa¡¯el could see Him. And jealousy that the Almighty could keep Rafa¡¯el all for Himself.
Azra''il scoffed. Mika¡¯el bowed her head. It was Rafa''el who answered him. "The Almighty does not wish to be seen until He has procured material form once more and the work is renewed. A suitable candidate must be found, for whom you must be the guide, my beloved."
"A third Mary?"
"As it will be," said Rafa¡¯el. She blinked and reached for the air. "It has been written, but the Mary has not yet been decided. Fate seeks her out. And the actions of the mortals... everything in such confusion, such disharmony."
Jibra''il shook his head. So much uncertainty. Rafa''el only wrote what she saw, inscribing destiny into the tablet, but everything was always shifting, winding and unwinding, until it was done and set in stone. It must be agony for her; here he''d been lamenting his failures and lamenting what was to come without consideration for what Rafa''el must see. What Rafa''el must bear as the ending approached.
"The Antithesis will build an army," said Azra''il. "We have always known this. Why are we alarmed? The dead are prepared. Our angels are ready. The humans will fall in line."
"And we shall rain blood and storm on all who oppose Him," said Mika quietly, speaking for the first time. "We shall wage war in His name and bring perfection to all creation."
Azra''il laughed. "You have waited long and patiently for the bloodshed, my sister. It will be glorious seeing you in action again. We shall be victorious, and He will ascend-"
"-for he is the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful," they finished in unison.
"And what of the severer?" asked Jibra''il after a solemn moment of silence. It was a struggle to even think of such a mortal. The power to sever. The power to reconstruct. Only the Almighty possessed such duality, even Jibra''il himself could only open wounds between worlds. He could not heal them, only shut them once the challenges had ended. He hadn''t known it was possible to heal them.
Rafa''el smiled sadly, a smile that made Jibra''il''s heart twinge. He wanted to pick her up. Wanted to hold her in his arms and press his lips to the crease in her radiant forehead and assure her that whatever she''d written, whatever she''d foreseen, they would be together.
"That we do not know, my love. She slipped through the worlds, beyond our reach. But she is vital. The Tablet has reached its final lines, I can feel the ending approaching, and her name appears so many times, I have memorized the shape of her. She will go on to commit such a crime against the Almighty, against destiny itself. But this has not been affixed. It remains in flux, obscured from my sight. The words shift with unease. She must be stopped at all costs. We must stop her at all costs."
A crime against the Almighty? Jibra''il''s wings shuddered, but he managed to hold his composure as Mika''el smacked her thighs with her fists, unable to suppress her rage. Azra''il crushed one of the skulls on his necklace, the bone shards scattering in all directions. The Penultimate Cloud responded with the booming roar of thunder.
"And what is her name?" asked Jibra''il quietly. He couldn''t understand how a mortal could do anything against Him. Against destiny.
"Jenny Huang."
64. Among the Pillars
What delusion am I convincing myself of right now to pretend I''m okay?
She''s dead.
I killed her.
Jenny blinked away tears, trying to stop them, but even with her eyes tightly shut, the tears kept coming, kept bubbling off her cheeks into the radiant golden light she was falling through. I''m going to find her. I''m going to find you, Susan.
Then I¡¯ll be okay.
I''ll fix this.
Streams of color swirled around her. She bit down hard on her hatchet as she waded deeper through the light, trying to swim, trying to sink. A river of orange weaved and curled around her body. Dark blue streams mingled with the sky-blue of her new armor, and greens danced across the edge of her hatchet and her face like liquid emeralds. She kept sinking, falling ¨C she couldn¡¯t tell which. All she knew was that she had to get away from the school, from the cafeteria, from Susan''s cold body.
I''m okay. I''ll find her. I''ll be okay.
Am I okay? Am I delusional?
I''m not - I''m not - I''m not!
I KILLED her. I tried to eat her. She''s dead. She''s dead. She''s dead!
I''m not okay. I can''t be okay. I never have been. How the fuck can I-
I''ll find her.
She sobbed, grinding her teeth on the hatchet¡¯s handle, and the light responded. Golden ripples reverberated through everything, through her. Her dark hair streamed over her head, and she stretched out her arms. This was Susan''s light, after all. Valescent Light. It was Susan''s light that brought them home, Susan''s love. But how? How had they accessed this space between worlds?
Is it cause I''m Desecrated?
The notifications from earlier still filled her mind: Severed Spirit. Existential Error. Natural Order Corruption. Rapture.
I''m broken. I''m broken. I''ve always been-
This golden rainbow light was something wonderful. Something miraculous. Something that made no sense; how could light be liquid? How could she wade into it, swim through it, sink deeper and deeper? She knew she was between worlds, but this was nothing like the eerie, sickly glow of the Veil. This was something more...
All she remembered was Susan using Valescent Light. And the state Jenny had been in. I was a monster; I am a monster. And how the darkness beneath them had reacted, convulsing as though Susan was healing it. Had she healed the wound between worlds? Was that how they''d escaped the Veil?
Wasn¡¯t that what Eve told her?
They''d fallen through the light, the same light the high school and everyone inside had fallen through, to get back to New York. They''d pulled themselves out of hell, but...
Rapture has commenced.
The Final Challenge is in effect.
All they''d managed to do was throw themselves into another nightmare. And now Susan was dead, and Jenny was... She¡¯d run away.
Why did I leave?
I didn''t run. I''m going to find her. The world of death. That''s where Susan had to be. Eve had shown Jenny the worlds; she knew the world had to exist, that death couldn''t just be the end. There had to be something more; even if it was only something she remembered from her vague memories of Sunday School at her mother¡¯s Church. Heaven and Hell. The Hereafter. The eternal soul. She just had to get there and find Susan and bring her back and then everything will be okay.
Why are you deluding yourself?
There is no world of death. You just didn''t want to stay and fight anymore. You''re a coward. You gave birth to that thing. You plunged the world into Rapture and you ran. You killed your best friend. The girl that you love. You ate Miriam alive. You almost ate your brother.
You''re a failure.
You¡¯re a monster.
You¡¯re disgusting.
SHUT UP! She spat the hatchet out of her mouth and stopped trying to swim, stopped trying to move. The lump in her throat hurt so much she swore she would choke. Floating, trying to be as still as possible, Jenny sobbed. The hatchet hovered gently in front of her, twirling slowly as it waited for her. I don¡¯t know where I¡¯m going; I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing. Can the light hear me? Can it guide me?
I want to find Susan. Please help me.
Is there a world where people go when they die? There has to be. Take me there!
Please.
A bright splash of yellow engulfed her. Then several blue rings swum around, slowly turning green as they mixed through the yellow. Then came orange. Then red. A dark, crimson curtain that smothered the golden light and swallowed every other color. Her new armor, fashioned after Susan''s favorite color, the one she''d made after sinking into the light, glimmered with the blood-red hue, and she remembered the exoskeleton that had gushed out of her belly button. She remembered how she''d transformed. Red tendrils of color stretched around her, and Jenny grabbed her hatchet and swung at them.
Her limbs moved slowly; everything was so slow, like she was underwater, underlight. But the red looked like the tentacles she¡¯d had, and when the hatchet¡¯s obsidian edge cut through them, they shimmered and dissipated like ink in water. Whatever Susan had done back there, she¡¯d done more than just heal Jenny. Her tentacles were gone, and the exoskeleton no longer grew out of her; I¡¯m not a monster. I¡¯m not a monster. I¡¯m not a monster!
But I am!
She flung her hatchet as far as she could; Get away from me! She clawed at her face. At her eyes, she could almost feel how empty they were. Lifeless. Inhuman. Just like the angels. But even as they burst and gushed beneath her fingernails, as she scraped her sockets, clawed at bone, even as she peeled the skin off her cheeks, the light caressed her like cooling rain. It healed her injuries in seconds, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to hurt.
As if upset by her actions, the light stopped holding her up. A scream tore through the lump in her throat, and she kicked and struggled as she fell, plummeting like a meteor into a golden ocean, burning up a million colors. Then, like an eye closing beneath her, the light and all the swirling colors between worlds snapped shut.
Jenny collapsed face-first onto cold, hard ground. Her hatchet landed beside her.
Something like sand, or maybe ash, tickled her nose when she inhaled. The taste was sharp on her tongue, salty and metallic, and she coughed violently. Everything burned inside. She was exhausted. She was beyond exhausted. She¡¯d been fighting nonstop since the Survival Challenge began.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!
Jenny pushed herself onto her knees and looked around. Was this another world? It felt... it didn''t feel like she was somewhere else. There wasn''t that unsettling sensation of weightlessness that she''d felt in Eve''s world. And the ground felt like ground. The gravity was the same as Earth''s. Heavy storm clouds clung to the sky. It was dark, but there was a soft, pale glow that came from somewhere beyond the clouds, and it was enough light for Jenny to make out the crudely shaped pillars that stood in front of her.
The pillars were spread out, about an arm''s length of space between them, and they reminded her of trees, like standing on the edge of the woods. She almost thought they were rock formations, but they had to have been manmade. Or maybe angelmade. There was something uncanny about them that she couldn''t explain. Something in their shapes that seemed carefully chipped away to form specific grooves and patterns. These might''ve been ancient statues of worship or something like Stone Henge.
As she stood, she realized it was some kind of forest. A forest of strange rocks. Countless pillars stood in front of her, and to her right and left, there were even more, spreading like a coastline that seemed to go on indefinitely. Behind her, the world was flat. There was no wind, no hills, no roads, or anything. It was a vast, endless expanse of nothing but dark ground with clouds rolling overhead. Jenny turned to face the line of pillars again, and, almost right beneath her armored feet, the ground shifted.
The grainy, dark earth cracked, and Jenny stepped back, summoning her hatchet with a flash of golden light as something jutted out from the crack. It expanded upward like a rapidly growing tree, and it took her a second to realize it was another pillar.
She lowered her hatchet, breathing heavily, staring at this new pillar that stood right in front of her. The rock was dark, almost glassy, and she held up her hatchet against it to find they were very similar. Was it also obsidian?
To her right, another one sprang out of the dirt, slightly different from the one before, a bit shorter. Further along the pillar-tree line, Jenny saw more and more pillars growing out of the ground. They were expanding into the emptiness, like a forest claiming more land. Jenny wondered how far the pillars went, how many of them there were. Why did the light bring me here?
Or had she brought herself here?
Wasn''t that how they left the Veil? Guiding everything and everyone back home? She shut her eyes again and inhaled deeply. The salty air stung, but she didn''t care. Everything flashed through her thoughts, from the first angel that had attacked her English classroom, whose head she¡¯d smashed in with a hole puncher, to the Desecrated Angel and its nightmarish blue light, to Miriam. Miriam who Jenny had hunted across the school and ripped apart and eaten. Then Susan.
Susan. How could she have done that to Susan?
It wasn''t me.
It wasn''t me!
That''s what she wanted to believe. Had to believe. It couldn''t have been her. Someone else had been in control. She''d been Severed. She''d been out of her mind. An anomaly. Existential Error.
Another scream burst out of her throat and when a new pillar erupted from the ground, Jenny struck it over and over with her hatchet. The impacts drew sparks, and the clinks and clangs rang all around her, echoing, bouncing from pillar to pillar. But each time she struck it, golden light shimmered across the obsidian edge of her hatchet, flashing over and over.
Through her tears, through her rage, she thought she saw something inside the pillar. A glimpse of something terrible, so quick, she couldn¡¯t recognize what it was, but fear surged through her limbs and notifications streamed into her head:
+100 Energy
+100 Energy
+100 Energy
Her angry cries broke. She held her breath, not even daring to swallow as she stared, trembling. She felt her heart pounding in her throat. There was no change in the pillar¡¯s appearance, no indication that she''d even attacked it. None of its glossy rock face had so much as chipped. No cracks. No sign of damage. But she was afraid. Like she¡¯d done something horrible again.
And she¡¯d gained Energy. She remembered her hatchet¡¯s new ability:
Hatchet (Tier 3): Your weapon now harvests Energy with every attack that invokes pain.
Shaking, she lowered her head and studied her hatchet. The obsidian face, dark and metallic and sharp, looked as it did since the moment it hit Tier 3. And the wooden handle, stained by dried blood, smudged fingerprints, the ridges and grooves where a floral pattern had been... It had once looked so pretty. But she''d hurt the pillar. She¡¯d harvested Energy from that pain.
The hatchet dropped from her hand. The edge sank into the dirt so that its handle jutted out. She stared at the pillar, even as two more grew beside it. Was it... could it be? Alive?
"Hello?" she whispered, her voice hoarse from all the screaming. What was inside these things? Why was she scared of the answer?
Would the pillars hatch? She could''ve sworn she''d seen something when her hatchet had flashed. Maybe these things were like the angels'' chrysalises, and she shuddered as more memories filled her head: the angel couple in the stairwell, the boy she''d burnt to death; the blue chrysalis in the chem wing where she''d nearly died, where she''d found Oliver and other survivors, where an angel had sucked her blood out through her broken nose.
She took another step back, glancing at the other pillars, squinting at them in disbelief, trying to quell the dizziness. They just looked like rocks. What was going on? How could she hurt them? What could be inside them? They didn''t even register as anything in her head. There was no notification. No indication that they were anything other than strange rocks that came out of the ground.
Maybe she needed more light. Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand. Her blue armor peeled back from her fingers and hand, revealing pale skin, and, with a snap of her fingers, she used Ignite. Fire flickered across her knuckles. A flame took shape, flickering and growing. Her arm had become a torch, and an orange and red glow surrounded her like a bubble of warmth and light. It cast shadows, her own and that of the pillars, tall and looming, but the warmth felt pleasant on Jenny''s face, and she felt like the only thing that was alive in this eerie, absent world. A thought crossed her mind: if there were predators in this world, they might see the fire and come for her.
Good, she thought, her skin prickling. Let them. Some part of her still ached with bloodthirst. She really, really wanted to hit something, but she shuddered at the thought of another fight. She wasn''t sure why. Maybe her body could sense something. Maybe she was just hungry. Maybe she was just afraid.
As Jenny walked up to the pillar she¡¯d attacked, the dizzying fear response struck her again. It hit her in the chest, harder this time, taking her breath away. Maybe she shouldn¡¯t do this; maybe she shouldn¡¯t look. She wanted to hide. It would be better not to know.
But why?
Her foot had frozen midair, just before the final step. The orange glow of her flames reflected off the pillar¡¯s surface, and, if she squinted, she could just about see the silhouette of something inside. A person? An insect? What could it be?
Why was she sweating? Her heart stammered. Her knees went weak. Why did she feel like she was doing something awful; as though she were sleeping on the floor again, a kid, praying for God¡¯s forgiveness, terrified that she¡¯d done something wrong and would be punished. Praying her mother wouldn¡¯t come hit her.
Fuck this.
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to compose herself, trying to bury the fear response. She¡¯d fought much worse, seen much worse, and whatever this thing was, she had to know. That was the only way to deal with fear, by exposing it.
She forced herself to put her foot down. Forced herself to come face to face with the pillar. Forced herself to bring her nose right up against it, her burning hand raised overhead. As the inners of the dark pillar became clear, as her eyes focused on what was inside, Jenny''s jaw dropped.
Death (Level 0)
She clapped both hands over her mouth and stumbled back, choking on a cry as her fire went out. The person inside vanished from view. It was a man.
She was sure of it. A middle-aged man, trapped inside, his face twisted in agony as he stared back at her with strained, bulging eyes. And his guts... Jenny¡¯s stomach heaved. She¡¯d seen so many people and angels cut open, but this? This sight seared itself into her mind. She forced herself to look again. Just to be sure.
But without light, the pillar was just dark, just a rock. With a shaky breath, she used Ignite again, but she kept the flame smaller this time, focused on her fingertip as though she¡¯d lit a lighter. The man came back into view, his wide eyes shining in the firelight; he was so close that it was like he was just on the other side of a window. His face was maybe a few inches from Jenny¡¯s, and she had a clear view of his insides.
The man inside the pillar was split from his ribcage to his groin. His arms hung limp, shoulders drooped, and he stood unmoving, as though his limbs were stuck to the pillar, but his eyes followed her. His intestines spilled out like enormous, glistening snakes, and they latched onto the pillar. Something moved through them, bulging up and down the length of each intestine. She could see his lungs expand and contract, could see his heart beating rapidly, each beat threatening to force his heart out of his exposed chest. She could see the whites of his ribs, jutting out like monstrous fangs, and when she caught sight of tears watering from reddening eyes, when she realized he couldn¡¯t blink and her fire¡¯s light must be agony to someone so used to the dark, her entire body convulsed. Jenny stumbled, bumping into another pillar, and glimpsed a young girl trapped inside.
She shook out her flame and cried out; she couldn¡¯t take it anymore. Was there a person in every single one of these? She doubled over and retched.
Vomit splattered the ground. Chunks of half-digested meat rolled across the salty dirt, and the sight of that, the acrid stench of it, and the ugly realization that she recognized where the meat had come from made her retch again.
65. What am I supposed to do?
There were no other names for the people encased by the pillars. No other notifications appeared in Jenny''s head. It was only when she shone light over them that they became translucent and Jenny could see the whites of their eyes, and the notification filled her head:
Death (level 0)
Some of them looked around her age, teenagers and young adults. Some were older with gray hair and wrinkled skin. She even found children; the worst were the toddlers and the babies. Their pillars were the smallest, barely coming up to Jenny''s shins. She could''ve easily mistaken them for random stones, but when Jenny knelt and held her flames to them, she could see the young ones, standing just like all the others, their chubby arms and legs, their bellies open with their guts attached to the pillar like umbilical cords. She could see their hearts beating, their organs glistening, and their eyes... wide and expressive and so, so afraid and moving. Every single one of them was responsive; she knew they could see her.
She was careful not to make her flames too big or too bright, cupping her burning hand with the other to dim it as much as she could. A few of their lips moved, as though they were talking, but Jenny couldn¡¯t hear them. They couldn¡¯t raise their arms or turn their bodies, but their eyes followed her. Jenny tried to smile, tried to reassure them somehow. But what was the use if they couldn¡¯t hear her? Could they even understand her?
Her stomach quivered from her retching, and she placed a hand over her navel. The children in the pillars reminded her of the angel babies that had followed her through the school; how they''d imprinted on her. What had happened to them? Were they okay? The last thing she remembered was sending them with Susan... they must''ve tried defending her from Miriam. Had any of them survived?
Jenny sighed and wiped her lips. She tried to relax her shoulders. Where am I? she asked with her mind. System? What is this place? Can you tell me?
After a moment''s hesitation, when nothing responded, she added, out loud, "Eve?" It was a faint whisper, a faint hope. But again, there was no response. Eve was gone.
There was no trace of it left in Jenny''s head. And why would there be? Eve now had a body, an exact copy of Jenny''s; her body, her face, her eyes. And what did Jenny have? She¡¯d escaped the high school and the Survival Challenge, but what did she have? She was alone, her eyes were empty, and she was surrounded by... these things. Swallowing hard to keep from throwing up again, she took a breath, trying to steady herself. But she couldn¡¯t stop the scream, "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"
Her voice cracked. Her lungs burned. She dropped to her knees and punched the ground as hard as she could. Tears welled up, and she struck the ground again and again. As the dust clouded around her and she tasted it on her tongue, she realized it wasn''t sand at all. It was salt.
"Is someone there?"
It was a whisper, a soft sigh moving through the air, and Jenny summoned her hatchet back with a flash of light. She was done with hearing strange voices, done trying to solve mysteries, but she was sure that someone had spoken. Out loud. It wasn''t something else in her head. This sounded like a man''s voice.
"Are you alive?" came the whisper again like a gentle breeze. "Can you help me?"
Shivers ran down Jenny''s spine. She didn''t recognize the voice at all. It had to be someone from this world. But why did they need help?
"Who are you?" Jenny whispered back. She wasn''t sure why she was whispering. There was no wind here. No warmth or coolness, only the salty pillars and the gloomy sky, but somehow, being alive, felt strange and wrong.
"It''s been so long.... Find me, please. Follow my voice. I will sing for you."
Sing? Why would anyone want to sing in a place like this? "Why can''t you just come to me?" asked Jenny, turning around and around, trying to pinpoint where the whispering was coming from. All she could see were the pillars. "Who are you?"
But as she searched every direction for any sign of anyone, half expecting an angel or a ghost or something worse, she heard humming, a deep, low humming. It was a tune, something sad and lonely. Long drawn-out notes followed by words. But these weren''t words that Jenny understood. It was in a different language, something ancient or alien. She''d never heard anything like it before.
Forcing herself to calm down, Jenny took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and listened intently to pinpoint the direction of the singing.
She would have to venture into the pillar forest. Jenny glanced behind her at the flat expanse of land again. It was so empty, not even a hill or a sand dune in sight, just barren flatness as far as the world went. But more and more pillars spurted out of the ground. More and more kept taking shape, and she knew each one had a person inside.
She listened again for the song. It sounded so pained, and a deep sorrow and anguish shifted inside her even though she couldn''t understand the words. Touching her hatchet¡¯s obsidian face to her forehead and squeezing the handle, she wondered what to do. She wished Susan was here; Susan was good at languages. Good at helping people. Susan would help whoever was singing, because if they were singing to get her attention, it might mean they were stuck. They couldn''t come to Jenny. And they''d asked for help. There was no way Susan wouldn¡¯t find a way to help them.
"Okay," whispered Jenny. Then, with conviction, "I''ll help you."
Her mind made up, she stepped forward, moving carefully and deliberately to sidestep each pillar and not accidentally brush up against one. She didn''t generate any flames; she didn''t look too closely at the pillars. Her skin crawled as she walked. She could almost feel every single set of eyes on her, so she tried to focus on the voice, the ebb and flow of their song. Their voice went low and high and low again, slowly and purposefully, as though they were singing something religious, something from the Church. She reminded herself to breathe every time the singer paused to take a breath.
The pillars loomed, and she tried not to study their shapes and ridges. Each one looked like arms wrapped around someone from certain angles. Sometimes she swore she recognized the outline of someone''s shoulders. Maybe their elbows. Maybe their hips. Without any fire or light, she didn''t have to glimpse the person inside, but her imagination kept running wild. The deaths inside were just too creepy.
Why were these things even bothering her? Shouldn''t she be desensitized to the horror? How many people had she seen cut open and bleeding? How many people and angels had she cut open? She''d lost track, but the more she tried to remember, the more she was salivating.
I''m salivating.
Jenny paused and sucked in a breath through her teeth, spittle dribbling down her chin. She rubbed her eyes with her palms, her arms itching to try ripping her face off again.
Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!
She kept seeing flashes of Susan''s face, her smile. Her dust-covered blue hair as she''d held Jenny. As Jenny''s teeth sank into Susan''s throat and that taste. The burst of sweet madness, more delicious than anything she''d ever known before-
Stop!
Swallowing hard, Jenny straightened her shoulders and lifted her face toward the sky, as though she was trying to hold back tears. The tears came anyway. Susan had healed her so thoroughly, but what had been the point? Susan was dead, and now Jenny had her ability, Valescent Light.
As if in response, the rainbow of colors shimmered around her arm and climbed her hatchet. Reds and purples and oranges, curving and forming circles and rings, loops that faded in and out as her arm took on a golden hue.
Could I open another passage between worlds? Could I leave this place?
But she grimaced. Her multicolored light revealed the bodies in the pillars, more clearly than the fire did, and every single person around her seemed drawn to it. Their eyes wide and staring. Jenny felt a strange itch. A strange itch that seemed to shoot right into her mind and get stuck, and if only she could scratch it... if she could... maybe she could...Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
It was like a thought just out of reach, but with all these trapped people staring, with the singing, she couldn¡¯t quite grasp the thought. Frustrated, she pressed her glowing hand to the nearest pillar. It was an elderly woman, so ancient her wrinkles hid her eyes, but the light did nothing. The woman stared back, tears streaming down her cheeks, her lips moving silently, her intestines glistening.
Maybe I¡¯m doing it wrong, thought Jenny bitterly as she shook her hand free. An ugly shudder went up her spine, and she felt bad for exposing the old woman to more light. Taking a breath, she listened for the song again.
The tune had changed, and there were new lines. These words weren''t in English, but somehow, she understood them:
Save me from this despair,
I have been here so long, forsaken.
Take me from this wretched place.
Such sweet, exquisite pain.
Father, make me whole again.
Mother, tuck me into bed.
With a sigh, Jenny continued in that direction. Her heart ached; she wasn''t sure why. Somehow the song pulled on something familiar... some horrible, miserable pain, and flashes of her rapid pregnancy flickered through her thoughts. She remembered how her belly expanded so quickly, ballooning as the glowing, monstrous baby gushed out of her. The way her ribs cracked and her insides expanded and how she could''ve sworn her entire soul was trying to escape. She shuddered and switched the hatchet from one hand to the other.
Too many thoughts. I''m thinking too much...
Sometimes, the singing stopped. Jenny would stop as well, as once or twice, she''d tried to keep going but only managed to turn herself around. Then the song would pick up again, and Jenny would course correct. Whoever was singing must get tired. It was better to just wait in the gloomy dark.
She kept expecting something to hiss. Something to leap out from some dark patch of salty ground. Unease clung to her so fiercely, and she wasn''t sure if it was the world or something from within or both. Salt stung her lips and throat and lungs; she wished she had her tentacles. They would make finding this strange singer so much easier. And if anything else was lurking, her tentacles would''ve sensed them. Sometimes she reached for them with her mind, trying to flex muscles she no longer had. She swore she could feel them, could feel their thirst. Where had they gone?
She touched her navel, her blue armor peeling away to reveal the pale skin of her navel, flat and muscular. The armor responded too her so easily, it almost felt like her exoskeleton and not armor she''d created using the System. Blue. As blue as Susan''s hair had been.
Why?
Jenny had grown so strong, but what was the point? She squeezed her hand against her stomach. She dug inside her belly button, scraping the inside with a fingernail, searching. Where had the exoskeleton come from? Where was it now? She was a Desecrated Human, so where was it?
Where is it?
Was she supposed to build a chrysalis and- Well, she didn''t know what the Desecrated Angels had been doing.
What the fuck am I, Guidance System?
She shuddered as lingering notifications flicked through her thoughts; she¡¯d felt them at the edge of her consciousness. They must¡¯ve gotten stuck when she¡¯d...
Ranking Bonus! Stage ii -> EXISTENTIAL ERROR
Wretched Human -> Desecrated Human
Congratulations on GUIDANCE SYSTEM ERROR
+50 Stat Points have been awarded
A second Energy Core has been awarded
Natural Order Corruption
Awaiting Metamorphosis
You have defeated Wretched Human (level 24)
Experience has been awarded
+1200 Energy
You have defeated Human (stage ii) (level 21)
Experience has been awarded
+1600 Energy
Dismissing each notification, trying not to linger on how much Energy she¡¯d gotten from Susan, Jenny pulled up her stats, hoping it would give her some answers:
Jenny Huang
Desecrated Human (level 30) (existential error)
Age: 6,802 days
stats:
Power: 30
Stamina: 25
Durability: 20
Agility: 25
Stat points available: 62
Energy available: 4806
Bloodlust Ecstasy
Energy Cores (2)
She focused hard on the numbers, all her stat points and Energy. Everything from Existential Error to Bloodlust Ecstasy... she wanted to cry. She wasn¡¯t Severed; she¡¯d been Severed right up until Susan pulled her out and healed her thoroughly. But then? Eve had taken Jenny¡¯s eyes and left her Desecrated anyway. So, what was she?
How did any of this make any sense? She tapped her forehead with the flat of her hatchet. It felt cool against her overheated skin. She was thinking too much again.
But I have to think about this, don''t I? I have to figure it out.
No. I have to figure out where I am. I have to find the world of...
It clicked for her all of a sudden. The notifications for each person inside each pillar was Death. Slowly she lowered the hatchet and stared at the pillars again. Were these people''s deaths? Was this the world she was looking for?
Was Susan''s death here?
An impatient trembling spread down her spine. She wanted to set her entire body on fire and check every single pillar - but then what? She''d be hurting so many of them, and there could be billions, and what would she even do once she found Susan? She didn''t want to see Susan like that: split down the center with her insides hooked up to the pillar. How was she supposed to get Susan out?
What will I even say to her?
She wanted to scream with frustration. The singing had steadily grown louder and louder, and it was once again in a language Jenny didn''t know, but whoever they were, they might know what to do. If Jenny helped that person, maybe they could help her too. Maybe they knew what these pillars were. Maybe the person singing had gotten out of these pillars.
Picking up the pace, half wanting to use Instant Acceleration, Jenny ran toward the singing. She dodged and whirled around pillars as though they were enemies trying to attack her, and she focused intently on the song, so intently that she almost didn''t notice when the pillars gave away and she stumbled onto flat land. The singing stopped.
"Here," whispered the voice.
The pillar forest was behind her now, and ahead stretched the same empty flatness she''d seen before. To her right and left, more pillars burst out of the ground. She wiped the sweat off her brow and squinted, scanning the view for any sign of anything.
A red burst of lightning drew her attention to a patch of darkness on the horizon. That was when she saw it: an enormous T-shaped, shadowy thing jutting out of the ground in the distance. In the dark, it almost blended in with the flat emptiness and the sky, but when her eyes focused, she could see it.
It seemed so far away. How did the whispers and the singing reach her? She took a deep breath. Since the land was flat now, she could make it across quickly, but as soon as she was about to break into a sprint, the world rippled.
Everything shook, a tremor reverberated through the air, and Jenny felt a strange breeze as the flat ground and the storm clouds seemed to fold inward, almost like an accordion. The distance between Jenny and the shadowy shape closed, as though she was being tugged toward it, and that was when she realized what she¡¯d been looking at. It was a cross.
A cross with a naked man nailed to it, his arms spread wide, nails through his palms. Long dark hair fell forward to hide most of his bearded, brown face and cover his bony chest. His body looked sunken, as though someone had sucked out every bit of his insides. His knees were bent slightly, one foot placed over the other, a single nail driven through both. A crown of thorns glistened on his head; there was no mistaking who he was.
But that couldn¡¯t be Him, could he? There was no notification in her head, just an unsettling feeling of recognition. Besides, Eve had shown her a vision of Him already, so who was this? What was this cross doing here?
Jenny had seen so many crosses growing up; she''d seen statues and endless depictions of Jesus, and she''d always wondered what that must''ve been like. How it must have felt to have nails hammered through her hands and feet. To be left out on display in agony. She shuddered as she stared at the man, her hands shaking, unsure what to do.
"Greetings," whispered the man, his lips barely moving. He raised his head and smiled softly. Up close, his voice had more texture; he sounded so strained, so hurt. "You''re not supposed to be here," he said. Then he laughed, a gleeful, awful laugh that started small and muffled before bubbling into heavy laughter that became a coughing fit.
His shoulders and his chest shook violently, and Jenny winced, thinking about the nails ripping and tearing through his flesh. Red lightning crackled around his hands and feet before fading away.
"A desecrated human..." said the man slowly, still wheezing. "Level 30. Aren''t you something spectacular?"
Jenny bit her lip. Why can''t I see what he is? What does he want from me? Why does he feel so powerful even though he''s nailed up to a cross? Fire flicked down Jenny''s arm as she used Ignite and raised her hand to get a better look.
The man squinted. He was old. Very old. His brown skin was taut and ashy, stretched thinly over his skull, almost like the Tarnished Angels had been. He was just as fragile, just as delicate looking, like he hadn¡¯t eaten in ages and desperately needed medical attention. Jenny got the sense the man had been here for a long time.
"Let me see your eyes," said Jenny firmly. What are you?
"Do you think I''m like you?" The crown of thorns glistened across his forehead. His genitals were shriveled, like dehydrated fruit clinging to a dying branch. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Brown pupils stared back at Jenny, glistening shiny and bright in the fire''s flickering light. "Aren''t you just delicious? And you only respond to the language of light. Yet, you question my sanctity?"
Jenny''s eye twitched. She inhaled deeply. "What do you want from me? Who are you?"
"My name?" hissed the man, and Jenny realized he''d just been hissing and shushing this whole time. He''d sang in a different language but spoke with the same sounds as the angels. "My name was... I was called Yeshua. And I very much wish to die."
¡°Yeshua?¡± said Jenny, blinking. She¡¯d expected something very different.
¡°I want you to kill me. Please,¡± he said, tears streaming down his cheeks, getting caught in his dark beard. Then he started laughing, a small laugh that grew louder and louder until he was roaring at the sky. Lightning sizzled across his emaciated body. ¡°You finally sent someone! You finally sent someone to deliver me from this!¡±
66. Stand clear of the closing doors (Nancy)
The underbelly of New York City was filthy. Maybe that was why Nancy preferred praying in the subway. She''d tried the church, the library, and even near the crater where her children''s school once stood, but underground was the only place she felt safe enough to pray. It was the only place she felt God might hear her. Or maybe it wasn''t God she was reaching for; she didn''t know anymore.
The subways felt amniotic with its retched odor, the bustle of busy people, and the screech of metal every time a train roared in and out of the station. It was difficult to breathe too deeply, and the stench of piss or trash or rot clung to everything. Nancy clutched her purse, her jaws clenched, her eyes on the dirty tiled wall. A homeless man lay beside her on the bench, covered in a filthy brown blanket. Beneath him were piles of dirty clothes and shoes of all sizes and colors. She''d sat down and counted the curious stains on his brown blanket - twenty-four. Some she identified as food stains, and a good wash or two might get those out. Some of it was dried blood or smeared dirt. Other stains were things she''d rather not wonder about.
People kept shooting her concerned or curious looks as they walked by. She couldn''t blame them. After all, who would purposefully sit beside a vagabond whose stench surrounded the bench like a toxic cloud? Nancy would; she deserved it. She inhaled sharply through her nose, disgust crackling her lungs. Her stomach tried to compress and contract, to force her to expel this rancid odor. Throw up, said a voice in her head. Throw up, urged her body. Just get up and move somewhere else.
But where? Every inch of the station was filthy, and it wasn''t like this was the homeless man''s fault. Maybe he had debilitating medical issues. Maybe he''d been dealt a bad hand in life. Maybe he got cheated. Or maybe he was evil and he deserved this. Isn''t that what her parents had raised her to believe? What she''d tried to instill in her daughter? That the sinful were punished
And all Nancy had ever done was sin.
She buried her fingernails into her palm and squeezed her eyes shut as tears trailed down her cheeks. I lost my children. They''re gone. They''re gone. God took them from me. I''m a bad mother. I''m a terrible person. It should''ve been me! God, please. Take me. Take me! Bring them back. Please!
"Lady," grumbled the homeless man, lifting his blanket to squint at her with sleepy eyes. Her sniffles must''ve woken him up. He had terrible bags beneath his eyes, bags that matched Nancy''s. A scraggly beard crawled over his chin and his cheeks; he was bald beneath his wool hat. "What''s wrong, beautiful? You''re really good-looking. Do you have any food?"
Nancy reached into her purse, heart pounding. Her fingers closed around her pepper spray, but the man wasn''t trying anything. He wasn¡¯t being weird. He smiled almost apologetically, or maybe he was just grateful someone would sit next to him.
She returned a strained smile and pulled out a wad of cash. The man''s face lit up and he flashed a toothy grin and reached for it. But his hand came too close to her navy blue skirt, and Nancy stood abruptly before placing the handfuls of fives and tens on her seat and briskly walking away. She kept her eyes on the tiles beneath her sandals as the man praised her from behind.
She didn''t glance back, and instead waited by the yellow line at the edge of the platform. The yellow line meant danger, anyone standing on it risked getting hit by an oncoming train, risked falling into the tracks. A rat skittered across them, and she stared at its long pink tail before it vanished into a drainage pipe. A short while later, the station rumbled. A train screeched out of the dark tunnel and rushed in front of her, and a violent gush of wind lifted her hair and ruffled her skirt; windows and flashes of all the people inside went by, and Nancy grimaced. She must look like a mess.
With a shaking hand, she tried to smooth down her hair. How long had it been since she''d washed it? She hadn''t washed her face in a while too. No makeup. No moisturizer. Not even lip balm. She forced herself to smile as the train slowed to a stop and she caught sight of her distorted reflection in the doorway window. Three days. It''d been three days since that earthquake, since God took her children away, since she''d last eaten. Her stomach had no space for food; it was too filled with worry and disgust.
Once the doors slid open, she flowed inside with everyone else and grabbed a pole. A moment later, the announcer came on, "Stand clear of the closing doors." The doors shut, the train groaned back to life and pulled out of the station. Through one of the windows, she could see the homeless man counting the money she''d given him. He looked like he was about to cry with joy.
She studied the ads splayed across the train''s sides. There was something for breast surgery, something for trade schools, something for designer watches. There was a sign saying, if you see something, say something in bold white letters. New Yorker''s keep New Yorker''s safe.
Her lips twisted. She was aware of people moving away from her, not making eye contact with her. They got up from their seats to find another place to stand. They leaned against the door. They didn''t want to be near her. Nancy sniffed her armpit; she reeked. Maybe she''d sat too long on that bench. Or maybe it had been too long since she''d washed. She didn''t care; she got to sit down. A bench had cleared out in front of her.
Nancy sank into the seat and rested her head back as the train bumped and jostled. She looked at the other passengers as they side-eyed her.
They seemed nervous. On edge. The city was haunted; nobody knew what to do about the buildings that had vanished. So many people were gone, and almost everyone knew someone who''d disappeared. The news had run the list every single hour. The first night and for most of the second day, Nancy sat on the living room floor, reciting as many names as she could, hoping, praying, even as Henry tried to pull her away, to kiss her and give her food, she kept hoping Jenny''s and Oliver''s names wouldn''t appear.
Please, please, please, please.
Just before she''d left the apartment this morning, after telling Henry she didn''t want any breakfast, that she didn''t want anything but her children, she''d punched the television. The screen had cracked, and she''d stormed out, and now she sat on a train staring at the red patches of skin. Her knuckles were already bruising; she could barely open and close her fingers, but she forced herself to anyway. Just to feel the pain radiating into her wrist and climbing the veins right into her brain. Oh, it felt good. It felt really good, and she deserved so much worse.
Why was she on the train? She''d gotten out of the apartment; she had to. She couldn''t stand going up and down the stairs anymore, hoping to hear Jenny''s voice, her biting sarcasm, or Oliver popping his head out of his room to ask what was for dinner. Her husband Henry had become a shell as well. He wasn''t eating much, but he kept cooking. Kept making breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and setting the table for four. Except now he kept his handgun on the counter. "Just in case," he''d say.
"In case of what?" Nancy would ask.
He''d look at her with those sharp brooding eyes that had won her heart over and say, "I don''t know."
His ex-wife would call sometimes, Oliver''s biological mother. She''d screech on the phone about her precious boy, about how Henry was a failure, about how she would kill Henry for failing. She was a horrid woman; Nancy had always wondered about her. Jessica Spencer. She''d kept Henry''s last name, but it was all a strange mess, something Nancy was afraid to untangle.Stolen novel; please report.
Henry had been adopted from Korea. He''d grown up in the Midwest, and he¡¯d tell Nancy about how he constantly felt like an outsider, constantly bullied for being different. He''d joined the navy to see the world and find his purpose, and Nancy hated all the things he¡¯d suffered through, all the racism and toxicity, and she''d tried her best to make his son, Oliver, who was her son now too, feel welcome and loved. His shock of red hair was from his mother, but his face and soft skin came from his dad. And his kindness, his sweetness, that was all Oliver''s. So, she didn''t care what features came from where; she just loved him as her own. But I couldn''t love Jenny like that.
I tried my best!
I should''ve done more; I could''ve.
More tears slipped down Nancy''s cheeks, and she licked them off her face. The train rattled through tunnels. Small lights flashed by the windows. At the next stop, more people piled in, took one look at the sobbing mess she''d become, and scrambled away from her. She didn''t care; the world was broken, falling apart. How was everyone else so normal? How could everyone pretend things were okay? Everything was crumbling, and all it had taken was a few buildings going missing.
She could''ve laughed. The news that day when she''d come home, her feet bleeding, her heart broken, the newscasters were going on about the stock market crashing.
Who gave a flying fuck about the economy? The world was ending!
She''d collapsed in Henry''s arms and all they could do was follow along as people and news outlets and social media twisted this in every way possible, as they tried to make sense of it: The reckoning. The end of times. Sinkholes. Rapture. Sin. It had to be aliens. It''s because of the gays. It''s because of the immigrants. It''s because of the monsters in power. Everyone found someone to blame, even Henry who blamed God, but Nancy blamed herself.
That first day, it felt like the world stood still. People held their breath, waiting for the sky to burst open. But by the second day, the trains and busses were running again with reroutes and delays. Coffee shops reopened. The business district filled with men in suits. Everyone was expected to go back to work; it was a bizarre nightmare that made no sense.
Riots broke out in the evenings. Marches and violent protests, but what were they for? What did they expect would happen? A curfew was instilled. Everyone was to be home before 9 pm. Anyone caught outside without permission would be arrested. But Nancy didn''t care about any of that.
"Oh, that''s right," she said out loud. She laughed and touched her injured hand to her forehead. "I''m going to their school."
Several people glanced at her. One asked if she was alright. Nancy smiled and shook her head. She was on the N train. A few stops more and she''d arrive at Jenny''s and Oliver''s high school, to the crater in the ground that had filled with muddy rainwater. She''d have to walk back later. She''d given all her money away and she hated using her credit cards at the kiosks. Maybe she''d call Henry. Or maybe he''d come looking for her again.
She tried to relax. She straightened her blouse and smoothed her skirt. She wasn''t sure why she was trying to make herself look nice for a hole in the ground but she ran her fingers through her hair and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve, and just as she was about to fish for deodorant in her purse, the train bounced violently, throwing Nancy forward onto the floor.
Everyone who''d been standing got slammed against the windows and the doors and each other. Several bumped their heads on the seats and collapsed. A roaring scream of people and metal whirled around her; the lights flickered; the ground shook so violently, rumbling and shaking, everything bounced as though the train was trying to vomit them all out. But Nancy recognized these tremors, recognized this chaotic rumbling of the world; it was the same earthquake that had taken her children away.
It was the same. Much stronger, and much more impactful, but it had to be the same. She wasn''t sure how she knew, but she felt it in her bones as someone''s boot struck her ribs and her knee banged against a pole. The train screeched to a halt, sparks flying and flashing by the windows, and then the earth stopped shaking.
After a long, quiet minute, one of the lights flickered, but most of the train was stuck in near darkness. Someone turned their phone''s flashlight on, and light glistened across the mess inside.
Everyone was a pile of limbs. Many were bleeding, and people kept asking one another if they were alright, helping the elderly stand and get to a seat, trying to assist the unconscious.
Static blared over the intercom, and the conductor''s voice crackled through. Nancy could barely understand him. It was a mess of white noise, but she caught a few words. ¡°Remain calm - don''t move between - inspection - wheels and rails - emergency services.¡±
Nancy felt herself all over. She''d hit one of the seats with the side of her face, and her cheekbone was sore to the touch. She was sure one of her ribs was broken, and she winced when she tried to extend her leg. But she grabbed the nearest pole and forced herself upright and groped around for her purse. A man was lying on top of it; he was out cold but still breathing. Shaking, Nancy yanked her purse free and then pulled out her phone.
Would she even have a signal this far underground? She typed in her PIN, and yes! She had a bar! They must be close to the next station. She could access the internet. Her heart pounding with adrenaline, the threat of several prayers on her tongue, Nancy flicked to the news as someone tried to wake the man beside her. She ignored them both as she scrolled through reports of the earthquake, tapped her phone hard enough to chip her nails. The connection kept dropping, but finally, a site loaded.
There, on the front page, was the headline she was looking for. A video tried to autoplay, but her signal was too weak. and it couldn¡¯t load. Fresh tears streamed down her face. A cry of happiness and hope broke free of her throat. She¡¯d been right. Breaking News: The missing buildings have returned!
Something wet and hot ran down the side of her head. She scratched it absentmindedly and her fingers came away with blood. It glistened in the tunnel lights. She was dizzy. Someone knelt in front of her, a face full of concern, mouthing something. Nancy just shook her head. It took her a few moments to understand; they were asking if she was okay.
"I have to call my children," she said in a choked voice. The person gave her a strained smile and moved on to check on someone else. Nancy shut her eyes. She couldn''t stop shaking.
The school was two more stops away. And the train seemed to be upright. Maybe they could get moving again. Or maybe she could run to the next station and get back to the surface. Slowly, she became aware of the other passengers helping one another up, crying, calling loved ones, calling for help. As she searched for Jenny''s name, her screen lit up with a call from Henry, and her heart lurched. For a moment, she thought it was Oliver''s face in the icon.
"Hello?" It was Henry''s voice, but the line dropped and she couldn''t hear what he''d said next.
The train announcer came back on as well, his voice crackling overhead. "Emergency services are en route to escort everyone out. Please remain where you are. Nobody should move between... between...." There was a burst of static. "What the fuck is that thing?"
Nancy blinked at the ceiling. Then she glanced at the other passengers who were staring up in confusion at the intercom as well. Another light flickered, and they heard more static. There was a shout and then a strange hissing sound, almost like a snake or a radiator, but it triggered every danger-sensing cell in her body.
It was followed by a thud. The intercom cut off abruptly, and the train fell silent. Nobody spoke a word or made a sound. Her phone crackled.
"Nancy? Nanc- are you-?"
"I''ll get off at the next stop," she whispered into the phone. She was trembling, but she told herself that was just cause she''d hit her head. "Emergency services are on the way."
"They''re not- pick- up, Na-" he said, breathing heavy. "The traffic''s so- run- -ning, and-" The line cut again, and when it came back, Nancy couldn''t understand what he was saying.
Before she could whisper frantically, a strange sensation, like a headache, moved through her head, from behind her left eye to just inside her ear, and a shudder went down her spine. Someone cried out. Words appeared in her head:
Rapture has commenced.
The Final Challenge is in effect.
The faithful shall be rewarded. May His light guide your way.
Humans remaining: 7,885,246,104
Her phone fell from her hand. Her breath caught in her throat.
Rapture... humans remaining? The final challenge? She could hear something faint, something echoing down the tunnels. Was it sirens? The wind? Was it the emergency services coming to help them?
She reached for her phone but her injured hand found her purse instead. She grabbed her pepper spray and remembered what Henry told her about his handgun. Just in case.
Then the door on the far side of the train car slammed open. Nancy flinched. People rushed into their car, scrambling over one another, the flashlights from their phones bouncing all over the place. Countless shadows flicked across the train, and as they rushed toward her, as she caught the glimpses of sheer terror on their faces, Nancy realized what she¡¯d been hearing. It wasn''t sirens or the wind. It was screaming. It was people screaming.
67. (NULL)
"I''m not going to do that," said Jenny, staring up at the crucified man, eyeing how his chest and ribs jutted out like a fucked-up pair of wings. The cross towered over Jenny, with Yeshua nailed to it several feet off the ground.
"What do you mean?" he asked, eyes wide. He swallowed hard and shook his head vigorously from side to side, straining against the nails, his long hair bouncing in every direction as his shriveled-up balls flapped against his bony thigh. "No no no no no! I prayed so much. So much. For Him to send someone...to come and... why? Why? Why won¡¯t you help me?¡±
Red bursts of lightning shivered up and down his body, as though he was statically charged, but Jenny recognized what was happening. She could almost taste it in the air: Yeshua was in a constant state of agony and healing. His flesh was always trying to heal around the nails, always trying to close those holes.
Yeshua started crying and pleading. Or at least Jenny thought that''s what the man was doing because he switched from hissing and shushing to sputtering in a language Jenny couldn''t understand.
"Wait," started Jenny, hoping to find some answers. Hoping the man would calm down and stop hurting himself. "Can you tell me where are? What are you doing here? I''m looking for my-"
But Yeshua wasn''t willing to listen. His eyes bulged, bloodshot and crazed, and he spat at Jenny. "I want to die. I want to die. Please just let me die. Why else would He send you?" He screamed and struggled against his restraints, ripping open wounds that healed almost instantly with bursts of red light. He bared his teeth and hissed, appearing completely feral, almost as mindless as the Tarnished Angels. Spittle clung to his beard as he snarled at her. Yeshua wouldn''t listen no matter what Jenny tried to say.
She offered the man water and food, clothes. "I can make you whatever you need," said Jenny trying to sound calming, trying to sound reassuring. "Let me get you down from there and then we can talk."
"Just slit my throat. Please. Haven''t I done enough? Just do it. I don''t want to be here anymore."
It broke Jenny''s heart, the sheer desperation in Yeshua''s voice, the constant wriggling, the fidgeting, as though he were tossing and turning in bed, desperate to wake up from a nightmare. But this was infinitely worse. He¡¯d been crucified. "I don''t want to kill you," said Jenny. "I thought your singing was beautiful. Please let me help you."
Yeshua let out a pitiful cry, raising his face up to the clouds as a sob broke into a deafening cry of anguish. It echoed all around the flat salty lands. Then he slumped forward so that his brown hair covered his face and chest, and went still.
Jenny held her breath, expecting Yeshua to have another outburst, but the man seemed to have fallen asleep. Exhaling loudly, exhaustion tugging on the edges of her thoughts, she figured it would be a good idea to get some rest as well. It didn''t seem like any other creatures were alive in this world. Besides, what was the worst that would happen? She''d get killed in her sleep? At least that way, she''d find the world of the dead right away.
That''s silly, she thought with a grimace, but Yeshua''s screaming words kept echoing through Jenny''s mind: I want to die. I want to die. Please just let me die.
Her head ached with questions, with fears and thoughts. Where was this place? What was Yeshua doing here? And why did he think Jenny was sent here to end his misery? For a moment, Jenny considered getting the man down while he slept. Maybe I can pry the nails out; maybe he won¡¯t be as frantic once he¡¯s free. But exhaustion made Jenny reconsider.
He needs serious help, and he wants to die. I can''t help him like this.
And what if he¡¯s dangerous?
What if there¡¯s a reason he¡¯s contained here?
Her head spun with gruesome images: the angels, Miriam, Susan, Oliver, everyone. She waited a while to make sure the man was actually passed out. It might''ve been a dozen minutes or so, but then Jenny sat down and raised her hand to make a bottle of water. But that Energy... she''d gotten so much of it from Susan, from Miriam. Is it right to use that? She''d already used some to make her blue armor but... She''d done that almost instinctively whilst in the light. She didn''t want to go somewhere else naked and her first thought had been the color of Susan''s hair. But was it alright to use the Energy now?
Of course it is. You have to survive. You have to find her.
I don''t know if... she stifled a sob and slammed her hand against the course ground. It was like sitting on the beach, except the air burned slightly and everything tasted like salt. There was no breeze. She stared at Yeshua''s body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and wondered how he''d folded the distance between them. It almost reminded Jenny of her Instant Acceleration, but this seemed to warp everything around her and...
"Are you there?" whispered Yeshua in angel-tongue.
Jenny nodded awake. She must''ve fallen asleep, her chin resting on her hands, her hatchet flat in front of her. She cleared her throat. "Yeah?"
Yeshua''s eyes remained shut, his head raised. "Oh Lord, deliver me from evil. Guide me. Preserve me for I take refuge in you..."
Brushing the salt from her armor, noting how it seemed to drain color from the blue scales, Jenny stood and approached Yeshua again, cautiously. How long was I asleep? She felt somewhat rested, but now her stomach rumbled with hunger. A rumble that went straight to her throat; she didn''t want to throw up again.
Red lightning flashed around Yeshua''s palms and feet. His gaunt face relaxed as though she were asleep, but his thin lips moved. He was singing again. This one sounded like a hymn, and Jenny was about to sit back down and try resting some more, but his eyes flung open.
"Which one are you?" he hissed menacingly. "An angel? What do you want from me? I have nothing. Nothing! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"
"I''m not..." started Jenny, blinking at the sudden enraged outburst. "I don''t want anything. I''m human, remember? A Desecrated... Human."
"A what?" spat Yeshua before unleashing a tirade of words in another language. These sounded vicious and ugly, as though he was cursing Jenny up and down. Then he fell quiet again. His body shook; he was crying, sputtering, "Please, my lord. Please, deliver me from this. Please just.... they''re coming. They''re coming. Just kill me. I can¡¯t do it again, please...¡±
"Who''s coming?" whispered Jenny, glancing around. It was nothing but flat ground as far as she could see. In the distance, she could barely make out the pillar forest, and the sky overhead rolled with the same storm clouds. Was it just her imagination or had everything become darker than before?
"My children," said Yeshua, his eyes glazed over. He looked right through Jenny, staring at the ground, eyes darting from side to side, as though he was searching for something, some possible way out of this. "I died for their sins," he said. "I died for their sins. This is my body, given to my children...I died for your sins. I died for your sins. I died for your sins." He repeated it again and again, over and over, his voice rising in pitch, in franticness, until it was a shrill screech. Red lightning snapped and popped, this time around his throat too, and he slumped forward again, breathing heavily.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
He died for our sins? Jenny started forward to soothe the man somehow. Maybe I can take the thorns off his head. Or maybe I should just make a water bottle and force him to drink. Can I get those nails out? But Yeshua''s head snapped right to Jenny. His brown eyes piercing and bright, and Jenny froze, shocked by the abrupt motion.
"Don''t move," hissed Yeshua slowly, emphasizing each word. "Don''t make a sound. Don''t move a muscle. Don''t even blink. Let them come. My children always come. But I do this for you. For you. For them. So don''t move. Don¡¯t even breathe. Don''t do anything. It will be over soon. My Lord will protect me."
Something sickly warm, like a stranger''s breath, crawled across the back of Jenny''s neck. She whirled around, ready to face whatever had Yeshua terrified and out of his mind, but there was nothing there. Just the salty, dark flatness of this world. Was she imagining things? She rubbed her neck and wondered if she should just get Yeshua down and figure out the rest later. But when she turned to face the cross again, she saw the ground around it shifting and bubbling, coming alive.
Round white shapes surfaced from the salt, wriggling and gelatinous, in the same way the exoskeletons of the angels had been before hardening. Thin limbs stretched out from the shapes, like a creature unfurling, and then there was its head. It expanded like a balloon until the creature resembled a bald, genderless human. Except they were all white, ghostly white, with no discernible features other than five-fingered hands and five-toed feet.
Ghoul (NULL)
Null? Each one was roughly the size of a small adult, each one the color of exposed bone. Their bodies jiggled and wiggled, and countless more Ghouls surfaced from the ground like bubbles rising to the top of a glass of water. They stretched their limbs and shook their heads. A few brushed up against Jenny''s legs and sides as they stood, just a few inches taller than her, and a cold, ugly sensation traveled up her spine. She didn''t move, remembering how intently Yeshua had asked her not to. But she was surrounded. She felt like she was in a crowded train, holding her breath, the underground closing in.
The creatures'' eyes opened. Jenny expected them to be like the angels, white and empty, but these weren''t just blank. They were hollow. It was like staring into holes in the ground. Smoke or vapor, she couldn''t tell which, swirled inside the sockets. They had two narrow slits for noses, and then the ghouls opened their mouths and spoke.
They spoke in shrill, high-pitched voices, in languages Jenny recognized: Spanish, Cantonese, French, and even English. These were human languages, and even though she didn¡¯t know them, she recognized what they were doing: the ghouls were crying for their fathers.
"Ot¨san!" one of them screamed.
" ¨¦g er hr?dd," said another.
"Dios m¨ªo, cond¨²ceme a tu luz."
Every single ghoul turned their round white heads toward the cross, and as they spoke, Jenny noted their mouths were too big for their faces. Drool, glistening, spilling down their chins. And the flurry of languages swirled around her.
¡°Father! Father save us!¡±
¡°Bab¨¡, ¨¡m¨¡k¨¥ b¨¡m?c¨¡''¨!¡±
¡°Ich habe zu viel Angst, Papa!¡±
The words grated the inside of Jenny¡¯s head; she wanted to cover her ears, but she didn¡¯t want to move. She almost couldn¡¯t move, because Yeshua was laughing.
He was roaring with laughter, his head thrown back, his shoulders shaking, drawing the attention of all the ghouls. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes as his laughter died down. He shook her head and whispered, "Don''t move, desecrated human. Don''t move at all. Or they will come for you too.¡±
The ghouls, some of them shrieking in high-pitched voices, some of them muttering, all of them begging for their father, moved in unison, rushing toward Yeshua like a nightmarish stampede of mannequins. Their round heads bobbed up and down, they looked so much like cartoon creatures, that Jenny didn''t know what to even expect until they reached the cross and began to climb. One latched onto Yeshua''s feet, stretching up to grab onto his ankles as it sucked his toes into its oversized mouth.
With a series of ugly pops and cracks, blood sprayed all over the other ghouls, staining their pristine bodies. The first Ghoul tore off his toes, and Jenny almost cried out. But it was the look on Yeshua''s face that kept her frozen; the grimace, the sadness, the way his lips were pressed so tight, his eyebrows squeezed together. He was used to this. The only indication of pain was the way his thin body stiffened against the cross. I died for your sins.
The blood sent the others into an even more crazed frenzy, and Jenny knew exactly why. She could smell it, could taste it in the air. his blood was delicious. The metallic tang, that sweet promise of warmth, the taste of fresh blood in the air.
Another ghoul climbed onto Yeshua''s thigh where it bit into his brown flesh and tore away a chunk, revealing glistening bone. This time, Yeshua howled in pain, and the ghouls howled in solidarity around him as they continued. More and more climbed up his legs and found new places to bite. Some nuzzled against him, as though seeking warmth, as though seeking nurture, but then their teeth found his skin. They bit into his sides, his ribs, his shoulders. Some climbed onto the top of the cross and chewed on his fingers. Some clung to his elbow and ripped into his armpit.
Some made it to his face, where they cut their hands on the crown of thorns and cried as he cried.
¡°Father, I need you.¡±
"Je t''aime!¡±
"Anqithna min hatha al-makan al-raheeb."
Red lightning sputtered and sizzled each time, sometimes muffled by the wriggling bodies of the ghouls, but it was always present. It repaired Yeshua''s body, so that after every bite, there was always a new place to bite down on, new skin to tear off, new flesh to rip away.
The first ghoul let out a shrill cry. Blood ran down its white chin, and its round head seemed to have swollen. The smoke in its eyes stopped swirling, and, with a heavy sigh, it fell away from Yeshua''s body, bounced off several ghouls, and lay trembling on the ground.
As Jenny stared, the ghoul melted into a puddle of white and pink liquid that the other ghouls mindlessly splashed through. More ghouls joined the first one, splattering on the ground, and slowly the liquid seeped into the salt and disappeared. It was like the Ghouls were returning to the dirt.
Did they die once they got their fill? Jenny stared at the entire ocean of Ghouls that now covered the flat land; they came from every direction, like some brutal pilgrimage. How long was this supposed to go on? How long would Yeshua scream and suffer? And hadn¡¯t he called them his children?
Jenny held her breath when she could, trying not to inhale too deeply, the scent of blood almost intoxicating, but she listened as Yeshua cried. As Yeshua screamed. As Yeshua sang until a Ghoul bit through his bottom lip and chewed off his beard. Lightning flickered and flashed so often; Jenny felt like she was staring into the heart of a demonic thunderstorm.
What do I do?
Why am I hesitating? I need to help him. But how?
Why did he ask me not to move? Were the Ghouls that dangerous?
The lightning. The healing ability... Jenny swallowed hard. Something was clicking into place, and maybe it was part of the answer as to why Yeshua was here, nailed to a cross. The World of Death. The man on the cross. The Ghouls feasting on him... Yeshua had to be important, had to be powerful, had to be. How else could he heal like this? Jenny inhaled deeply, loudly, expanding her chest and making herself feel bigger.
A ripple moved through the crowd of ghouls. Their white forms paused in unison. Yeshua looked up, blood streaming from his torn cheeks and exposed teeth, and shook his head. He must¡¯ve tried to talk; Jenny could see the man¡¯s vocal cords glistening and moving.
She raised her hatchet slowly and cocked back her arm. The Ghouls responded in unison, all of them falling quiet, their round heads turning to face Jenny, to stare at her with those smoky eyes. The entire world was suddenly silent, and the mass of Ghouls stood still. She exhaled slowly through pursed lips, eyeing the ones nearest to her. They were slumped forward, arms swinging, but they weren¡¯t attacking. Maybe they were confused.
¡°I told you to kill me,¡± hissed Yeshua weakly as light cracked up his neck and his mouth healed. ¡°Don¡¯t pity me now. This is my purpose.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll do you one better,¡± said Jenny, sliding one foot back till it bumped against a Ghoul. She grimaced, but when it didn¡¯t react, she figured it was now or never. She took aim, stomped forward, and launched her hatchet as hard as she could. Savage Throw!
With a satisfying clunk, the edge cut through the Ghoul holding onto Yeshua''s arm and sank into the wooden beam of the cross, completely severing his wrist from the rest of him. Blood sprayed horribly from the wound, but Jenny had freed that arm.
Just as the Ghouls started screaming, an enormous bolt of red lightning, far stronger and brighter than any of the lightning before, sparked out of the bloody stump. Jenny caught a glimpse of his widening eyes, his blood and spittle-soaked beard, and then all the Ghouls leaped into the air. Summoning her hatchet back, she threw herself into the fray, praying desperately she made the right decision by freeing that man.
68. I have redeemed you
Like water balloons, the Ghouls burst into liquid as soon as Jenny struck. With either her hatchet or her fist, it didn¡¯t matter which. She just had to hit them hard enough. But the hatchet¡¯s edge cut through them swiftly, so she swung it repeatedly at each creature that rushed her with their arms outstretched, mouths open in wide grins.
The Ghouls had little resistance; it was like their entire body was an empty shell, a white casing that splattered as soon as it was compromised. It didn¡¯t matter where she struck them. Their arms, their sides, or their head, as soon as anything cracked, their entire bodies turned to liquid and splattered. Jenny didn¡¯t know what to make of that, so she did the only thing she could do: relentlessly attack.
Kill. Kill. Kill.
She moved quickly, darting backward and forward, sidestepping the ones trying to grab her. They were slower and clumsier than Wretched Angels, but they had her completely outnumbered. Fortunately, the Ghouls kept tripping over themselves in their mad scramble. Their legs tangled. They grabbed one another by mistake. Or two dove for her at the same time, and their head clunked together like two coconuts, and Jenny would finish them off with a rapid strike.
Many kept losing their footing, falling face down on the ground while the other Ghouls trampled them. Jenny stomped hard on their heads, splashing from body to body in her efforts to dodge. The only thing she had to watch out for was their hands. They had virtually no defenses, but their blows cracked her armor, and the impacts hurt. But the worst was their grip. It was vice-like, impossible to slip out of.
A Ghoul caught her arm and forced her to the ground by throwing its weight at her. Fingers dug into her armor, and Jenny nearly dislocated her shoulder trying to break free. Another Ghoul slammed into her chest and clawed at her face, but she punched it square in the chin, cracking it open so that the Ghoul burst right on top of her. Its remains, that thick white liquid, tasted almost like salty milk.
Trying not to swallow, trying not to gag, Jenny let go of her hatchet, caught it with her other hand, and chopped off the hand threatening to break her arm. Without skipping a beat, she buried the hatchet in the next Ghoul''s head. Its smoky eyes went wide, its grin faltered, and the creature exploded into white droplets. Before another could jump her, Jenny rolled away and got to her feet, huffing for breath, already sweating way too hard. She wiped the milky substance off her face and spat.
A Reinforced Helmet will cost 400 Energy. Sufficient Energy.
Susan would approve, thought Jenny as golden light swirled around her head. The light made the Ghouls pause, and they blinked in confusion, gasping and making sounds of amazement, like children at a fireworks show.
A blue helmet materialized on Jenny''s head, metal curving forward to protect her face. It covered her hair. There was a horizontal slit in the front to see through, but before the light faded away, the Ghouls snapped out of their daze and rushed her again.
She glanced at Yeshua who was still on the cross ogling his new hand, that arm no longer stuck to the wood. He turned it every which way, inspecting his palm and his knuckles. He licked his forearm. All the while, he kept laughing and crying, even as the Ghouls ripped away chunks of his legs and bit into his stomach. One even clung to his chest and suckled on his shoulder. His old hand remained nailed to the cross, blood dripping from where the hatchet had severed it, and several Ghouls waited below, mouths open expectantly.
Now if only he''d do something. The Ghouls kept coming, kept swarming, and she lost sight of the cross in the gaggle of salivating white bodies. With a shout, she used Savage Throw again, launching her hatchet into the crowd.
Pop, pop, pop! A row of them burst into liquid, raining down all over her and the others as Jenny kicked and punched the Ghouls closest to her. She struck one in the stomach and another in the eye, but one managed to grab her arm again, nearly snapping her elbow. She grimaced and summoned her hatchet back and sliced the Ghoul''s head open with a flick of her wrist. It burst into liquid, and Jenny spun away.
They were easy to kill, but they gave her no Energy, no experience, not even a notification. Her hatchet didn''t flash with light to indicate any pain; she wondered if their being Null was the reason. Maybe that was why they didn''t have a level or anything. But then why were they so strong? They could rip her limb from limb if she gave them the chance.
Fingernails chipped off scales. Punches and smacks left cracks and dents, impacts that rattled her bones. One Ghoul even managed to peel away a chunk of armor, exposing her back. She buried her hatchet in the creature¡¯s chest and rushed out of reach, gasping for breath. She was sweating profusely now; her head pounded with exhaustion. Whatever nap she''d taken before hadn''t done anything, and she cursed herself for not assigning her stat points sooner. Having a boost in Stamina or Durability would''ve been perfect right now. Maybe she could make a potion.
Fuck it, I need space. Jenny inhaled deeply and roared, Ignite!
Flames streamed from her throat and out of her armor as she turned herself into a walking bonfire. The Ghouls raised their arms to shield their faces from the sudden brightness and heat, and they all stumbled back, clumsily bumping into the ones still trying to come after her. Their mad rush cleared enough space for Jenny to-
Beneath her, on the ground around her, she saw the salty surface bubbling. Puddles of gelatinous white liquid glistened in the orange and red glow of her fire. It was all the Ghouls she''d cut down. All their liquid was still on the ground, bubbling and merging back together, taking shape again, much more quickly this time. Hands reached out from below to grab her, and she hopped back to stay out of reach.
Jenny shut her mouth in frustration, extinguishing her flames and the light. She thought she''d been killing them, but they''d just been reforming this entire time. Then she had a sickening thought: Was feeding them the only way to stop them? The ones that turned pinkish-red after feasting on Yeshua''s body had drained into the ground. The white ones seemed to get stuck on the surface.
I need to get out of the crowd; maybe if I run as fast as I can... Jenny dashed forward with Instant Acceleration, bursting through another row of Ghouls, her hatchet extended to catch as many as she could. Their hands kept reaching for her, kept trying to grab her, no matter how many elbows and throats she cut through. She needed to breathe. She needed to get away from the milky stench, the air was suffocating. She needed space.
She paused for a second to catch her breath, dropped down to dodge a swinging arm, and slashed one of the creatures in the stomach. There were still too many Ghouls. She couldn¡¯t even see the edge of the crowd. With a cry of frustration, she used Instant Acceleration again, but she tripped.
There was a sudden jolt, a horrible crack, and she was flung forward onto her face and arms. She bounced off the ground before crashing forcefully into a pile of Ghouls, kicking up clouds of sat.
Some burst upon impact. Others, she knocked down, their teeth gnashing, their arms scrambling, but there were so many of them, that they grabbed onto one another, grabbed onto her, and it was a suffocating, screaming mess of limbs.
She had to blink away tears. Salt had gotten through the slit in her helmet, which had come askew, but it was like all the strength had left her body. Pain surged up her left leg. Grunting, she elbowed one of the Ghouls in the teeth and glanced back, trying to see what was wrong.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
She''d left her foot several paces behind her.
Blood squirted out of the stump of her knee, and she cried out. The sight of it was somehow so much worse than the pain, and Ghouls were already pouncing on her foot, pouncing on the splattering of blood she''d left in her wake, and pouncing on her.
She summoned her hatchet back, but powerful hands clamped down on her arm. Several Ghouls pinned down her legs, teeth sank into the exposed flesh of her leg, and some of their white heads turned pink. They sighed in relief as a scream tore through Jenny''s throat, lighting her entire body on fire again. Ignite!
Flames blossomed from the wound, and tears ran down her cheeks as her blood sizzled. But the sudden light had shocked the Ghouls off her. The ones that had gotten bites were already melting into the ground.
Jenny sat up, breathing hard, staring at the flickering fire rising from the stump of her leg and trying very hard not to think about how she was running out of fuel. I''m going to pass out.
But I can''t. Not like this.
They''ll rip me to pieces.
Pain shot right up to Jenny''s throat, closing around her windpipe like the hand of a Ghoul. Exhaustion pinched the corners of her vision. She just wanted to sleep. I just want to rest. Just for a little bit. But even though her fire kept them at bay, she could see the ground bubbling around her, could see the Ghouls trying to reemerge from the salty ground. Even the puddle she''d splashed into was starting to move beneath her.
A hand reached up and coiled around her thigh. A head rose right beside her. Jenny jammed her burning fingers into its eye sockets and pulled up her stats quickly, preparing to pour all her available points into Stamina. Another Ghoul dove on top of her burning leg, as though trying to snuff out the flame, and shoved its face into her stump. Teeth made contact with her torn muscle, but before Jenny could react, a furious drum roll of thunder shattered the entire world.
It sounded like the sky was coming apart. As soon as it settled down, ringing in Jenny¡¯s ears, the Ghouls stopped what they were doing and stared up at the sky.
Lightning struck. An enormous red bolt zipped straight down from the storm clouds, crackling and splitting into several trails before crashing right onto the cross with another thunderous roar.
The impact was like a bomb going off; a violent gust blew the Ghouls away, many of them crying out as they burst into vapor. The winds blew out her flames, rattled her helmet, and threatened to blow her away too. In the center of the red glow, as more and more bolts of lightning rained down onto the cross, she could see Yeshua.
All the Ghouls on him and around him had completely vaporized. He was tugging on his other arm, trying to rip it free even as the lightning healed his palm around the nail. He jerked with his entire body, ribs and shoulder bones threatening to burst out of his skin, until finally, with a cry of anguish, his face red, spittle flying from his mouth, the nail tore through the gap between his fingers, and he yanked his arm off the cross with a spray of blood.
Shouting with triumph, he held up his freed hands, blood streaming down his arm as the lightning worked its magic around his fingers and his palm. Then, panting for air, he knelt forward so suddenly, Jenny thought he''d passed out. But he clung to the cross with one arm and reached down with the other to yank out the nail holding his feet in place.
But his fingers must''ve slipped or something, or maybe his strength had given out, because Yeshua collapsed forward while his feet remained stuck to the cross. His face hit the ground, legs outstretched, his flat ass in full view as lightning rained down on him.
Jenny adjusted her helmet and tried to get up. Clearly, she had to help him. He was powerful, he had to be. That lightning was insane. But she needed to help him up. To get his feet free. Then maybe he could fight and put these creatures down permanently.
But she could barely move.The Ghouls were reforming around her and scrambling back now that the wind had died down. She had to be quicker.
Gritting her teeth, groaning from the pain, she grabbed her injured leg and squeezed it as hard as she could. Golden light shimmered out of her hands. Blood gushed between her fingers as she used Susan¡¯s ability, but something was stuck. Her mind lurched away from Valescent Light, and the ground seemed to spin. Rainbow light crackled across her wound, but she didn''t have enough stamina for something like this; she was losing too much blood. Her head felt too heavy for her shoulders.
A white hand grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. The scales of her armor cracked as that Ghoul yanked her to the ground. Another grabbed her helmet, and she struggled to get out of their grips, but it was no use. She risked breaking her neck. Breaking her arm. But they were going to eat her alive.
Then a shout echoed, and the Ghouls stopped trying to peel off her armor. The winds stopped blowing, and everything went still. It felt like even the sky was holding its breath.
One by one, the Ghouls let go of Jenny and straightened up in silence. They stood around her, ignoring her, staring at a source of golden light that seemed nearly as bright as the sun. And Jenny felt it too. Deep inside, an immense sense of holiness. A gravity she¡¯d felt a few times before, crying in prayer, begging God to help her. A solemn stillness, a reminder that she wasn¡¯t alone.
Her bones aching, Jenny dug her elbows into the ground and lifted her head, trying to see between the Ghoul''s legs, trying to find the source of this feeling. It was Yeshua.
He stood in front of the cross shining so brightly, he was like a beacon in a storm. His long brown hair and beard billowed as another, gentler breeze stirred, and he spread his arms wide. Behind him, nailed to the cross were what was left of his torn feet, blood dripping from the mangled flesh and bone.
"Behold!" he shouted. Lightning raced up and down his emaciated body; he looked so much like a Tarnished Angel. He bared himself completely, shriveled and bony, his face sunken in. A purple robe materialized around him, and he inhaled deeply before bellowing, "I... AM... FREE!"
Another burst of wind blew through the world, and another giant bolt of lightning flicked down from the sky and erupted around him, into him. The Ghouls stumbled forward, arms swinging, all of them muttering. Smoke swirled in their eyes as they bumped into one another, but they seemed hypnotized. Completely taken. Like a crowd of people consumed by worship.
"Father," whispered a ghoul behind her. Its foot struck her elbow, but the creature didn''t seem to notice. They marched right by Jenny, their voices growing louder and louder, filling with desperation and need:
"Tunapenda wewe, Baba!¡±
"Ham ¨¡pk¨ py¨¡r karte hain! "
"Ji¨´ w¨¯men tu¨l¨ª xi¨ng''¨¨!"
"Come to me!" called Yeshua, his booming voice echoing all around. Golden light shone even more brightly from his body. Red sparks crackled, curving and twisting around him.
He stood nearly as tall as the cross. He raised his skinny arms, the sleeves of his robe falling away, to grasp the crown of thorns. He raised his chin, chest expanding with a deep breath, before lifting the crown off his head. Another bolt of lightning shivered across his forehead, healing the patchwork of wounds.
"Come to me," he repeated, in a gentle voice that Jenny felt rumbling deep inside her chest. She felt a pull on her heart, and if it wasn''t for the agony of losing her left foot, she would''ve gotten right up and marched toward him. But why? Something about his voice, something grand and immense and powerful...
Human (stage v) (NULL)
What? She squinted at him, trying to make sense of the notification in her head. What was he? How was he stage v? What level did he need to reach... why is he NULL like the Ghouls?
"I am reborn," said Yeshua, raising his voice again. "Come to me, my children. Find salvation in my arms, for I am nearer to you than your soul." He was grinning, a wide toothy grin, his beard, his hair, his purple robe flowing in the wind.
¡°Hallowed be thy name...¡±
¡°Elth¨¦to ¨¥ basile¨ªa sou...¡±
¡°Metool ddeelokhee malkootho...¡±
Despite her exhaustion, despite the agony, Jenny sat up, staring, her heart pounding. She couldn¡¯t believe what she was seeing. Could he really be who she thought he was?
No. He couldn¡¯t be.
He can¡¯t!
She¡¯d fought against her mother¡¯s faith for so many years, rebelled against the stories, the lectures, the nonsensical rules that always seemed to put down girls in favor of men... but here he was, glowing with golden light. He¡¯d been crucified, and yet there he stood, alive and powerful, and Jenny had set him free. He even looked like Him too. There was a firm, powerful kindness about him, an aura she couldn¡¯t explain, and Jenny found herself completely baffled. Should she be praying too? Was everything her mother tried beating into her true? Was that man really...?
Once one of the Ghouls got close enough, the rest surging forward, each of them trying to be the first, their arms outstretched as if coming in for a hug, Yeshua lunged. He grasped one by the sides, fingernails digging into its white flesh. He scooped it into the air.
¡°I have redeemed you,¡± said Yeshua with an enormous grin as the Ghoul kicked and struggled midair, squealing as it failed to escape his grip. Lightning sparked around his hands, around the creature, and his golden light seemed to envelop everything. The other ghouls stood frozen, all of them silent and staring, and Jenny held her breath.
Yeshua pressed his lips to the Ghoul¡¯s face, and Jenny heard a wet, sucking sound she¡¯d never wanted to hear ever again.
SHLURP.
69. Pepper spray (Nancy)
Nancy didn''t know if she should scream too, if she even could. The train car, mostly dark but with flashes of light from people¡¯s phones, had erupted into chaos. It was almost like another earthquake. She stood in the midst of the stampede, as elbows and shoulders knocked into her, as someone screamed into her face to run, surrounded by the thunderous roar of footsteps. As though the fear was infectious, people left the injured behind and followed the panicked crowd through the exit behind Nancy. That door led into the next train car where she imagined the panic would swallow up everyone in there as well. How many cars till they reach the very last one? Where would they go? What were they running from?
Was it a fire? It couldn¡¯t be a fire, she reasoned. If it was a fire, then there''d be more light in the dark tunnel. Everything seemed dark outside the cracked windows. Why had the conductor screamed?
She held onto the pole with both hands, standing as still as possible as the stream of people raged past her. Eyes wide with confusion and terror, sweat glistening in the bouncing phone lights. Most of them were adults, some were teens with their headphones around their throats and oversized bookbags. There were even children, crying as their parents held them close or tugged them along by the hand. Nancy got shoved and tussled, but she held as firmly as she could. Nobody glanced at her twice. This was worse than the crowded subway stations on busy summer morning commutes, people in a rush to pack themselves into a train, desperate to get to work on time.
Sweat drenched her back. Her blouse was torn from the earthquake, and blood ran down the side of her face. She wiped it with the back of her busted hand. Should I run too? Her lips trembled; Jenny and Oliver were ahead. Their school was two stops ahead; why would she turn back and run now?
Besides, where were all these people going? Once they scrambled out of the last car, they''d be stuck in the dark, disgusting tunnel between stations, and it was a long way back to the previous stop. If help was going to come, it would come from ahead.
She wasn''t the only one waiting. There was a kid, a dark-skinned boy in a bright orange jacket who was clutching the handrails of a bench tightly. An elderly woman lay on the floor beside him, her head beneath the seat, unconscious, blood pooling from her mouth.
There were others sprawled across the train car floor, some of them groaning, most of them quiet. She wondered how many had been injured during the earthquake and how many were trampled in the mad rush. Screams still echoed all around, drifting up and down the tunnel outside, and a stale breeze blew through the shattered windows. Nancy hobbled toward the boy. He¡¯d started prodding the woman; she must¡¯ve been his grandmother.
Nancy¡¯s legs nearly buckled as she moved from pole to pole, eyeing some of the unmoving bodies, stepping over one or two, until she could lean against the door beside the old woman. Words filled her thoughts like a notification when she looked at the boy.
Human (level 1)
But there wasn''t anything like that for the woman, and her head hurt too much to figure out what it meant. There was just enough light to see them both. Someone''s phone had been left behind on the other side of the bench, its flashlight still on. Nancy knelt, half collapsing on her knees, to press her fingers to the woman''s throat. There was no pulse. "I''m sorry," she whispered, looking up at the boy''s wide eyes. He might''ve been three or four, she wasn''t sure. His orange jacket was zipped halfway up, and the colorful t-shirt underneath depicted some superhero blasting a beam of light. Oliver would recognize the character; she had no idea.
"Nana?" the boy asked, his busted lip moving slowly.
She didn''t know what to say; she was all burnt out on empathy, but when the boy pointed at the woman again and said something that sounded like "hospital," Nancy nodded and said, "Yes, hospital. People are on the way. They''ll help us."
"It''s going to be okay," said the boy, eyes quivering with tears. He rubbed his lips, smearing blood across his face. ¡°My dad is hospital.¡±
"It''s going to be okay," repeated Nancy. Did the boy¡¯s dad work at the hospital? Was he a doctor? Or was he a patient and they¡¯d been on the way to visit? Her heart broke imagining that, and she reached out to wipe the boy¡¯s chin but then noticed her own blood smeared all over her hands and thought better of it.
On the opposite bench across the aisle, underneath a wide window that had remained intact, lay a man about Nancy''s age. He was on his side, clutching his ribs and glaring at her . He had unruly long brown hair and a mean look, and he puffed out his sweaty cheeks with every shaky breath. His black shirt was torn, revealing a round hairy stomach. "This is all our fault," he wheezed. "All this nonsense with phones and money."
Human (level 1)
Nancy didn¡¯t know how to respond to that. "It¡¯s nobody¡¯s fault," she said. ¡°Help is on the way.¡±
The man closed his eyes and coughed, his entire body jiggling. "Immigrants," he said. "Always asking for help. You know? Those other folks who dress wrong. Them queers. Illegals. Dirty people. God is angry with us. He is punishing us."
Okay, there''s no point talking to this man. Nancy pressed her lips tight and leaned back against the door. The boy still clung to the chair, he was holding his grandmother''s hand, and he kept looking at Nancy like she might stabilize him somehow, might save him from this. The echoing screams grew quiet after a while, and Nancy wondered if that entire crowd had gotten away. And if there was a fire, what would she do? She''d pick up the boy and run too. "Help me," she whispered, blinking away tears, trying to ignore the pain, trying to pray. Help me.
Unless this was God taking her away. She¡¯d asked for this. She''d gotten her children back after all. Wasn''t that the bargain she''d made?
Not till I can see them, she thought furiously. Not till I can hold them. Only then can you take me.
She knew she was being greedy, but she had to be sure. Were they safe? Were they alright? As if in response to her prayer, a shrill scream sounded way too close for comfort, raising the hairs on her back. This one didn¡¯t sound human. It almost sounded animal, like something enormous and hungry. One of the phone lights flickered out, casting the far side of the train car into darkness. Even the bigoted man went quiet, and the little boy cried out and rushed into Nancy''s arms. Her ribs cracked and popped, and she grimaced, but she held him tight, one hand on his curly hair.
¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± she asked, trying to keep the boy calm. ¡°My name is Mrs. Huang.¡± It was a trick she¡¯d learned dealing with young children at one of the old restaurants she¡¯d worked at. If you make yourself sound like a teacher, sometimes they listened.
¡°Amir,¡± said the boy in a muffled voice.
¡°We¡¯re going to be alright, Amir,¡± whispered Nancy.
The man made a gagging sound. He looked disgusted, his face half lit he as muttered about the ethnicities he couldn''t stand, how morally corrupt society had become, how the rapture was finally here to purge- a hand smashed through the window over his bench, and he erupted into squealing as shards of glass rained down.
Nancy held her breath and squeezed Amir as a skeletal arm reached into the train car. It was so thin, just bone with skin stretched over it, but a face emerged next. A shock of white hair and sickly skin, there was just enough light to see it had no pupils. Its eyes were empty and white. Looking into them sent shivers of fear through Nancy¡¯s chest, and all she wanted to do was scream. It was some kind of monster. Like something from those violent video games Jenny played all the time.
The creature pulled itself through the jagged glass of the broken window and coughed up blood. With a hiss that sounded like a snake, it pulled itself over and collapsed right on top of the kicking and crying man, and words filled Nancy''s head:
Tarnished Angel (level 3)
¡°What?¡± whispered Nancy as the man wailed, struggling to push the creature off.
"Not me!" he cried. "Not me! You don''t want me! Take them! They''re the sinners!" He pointed at Nancy.
The angel grabbed the man''s head and slammed it against the bench. A choked cry escaped the man''s lips. He looked utterly shocked. Blood ran down from beneath him onto the floor.
Nancy held her breath as the angel hissed, revealing stained teeth. It looked like a person, someone whose body had been dug up after months of rotting. Its skin clung so tightly to its bones, that even though its body was poorly lit in the dark, away from the phone lights, Nancy could see every bump of its ribs, the ridges of its hips. Long white hair bounced as it knelt forward, as its teeth found the man''s throat.
He was still crying softly that he''d always been a good servant of the Lord, that he''d gone to Church as often as he could, and that he''d always... his desperate pleas ended with a crunch.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
The angel chewed through the man''s neck, and Nancy shut her eyes, unable to watch. The sounds were even worse, the chewing and crackling of bone, the wet sloppy smacks of flesh, the blood splattering the floor as the angel grunted and slurped and swallowed. Wet and hot droplets landed on Nancy''s face. The angel was making a mess. She flexed all her muscles, going rigid as she held the boy tightly, keeping him from turning around, trying her best not to flinch or make a sound of dismay.
More glass shattered around them. Nancy opened her eyelids as little as she could, trying to see in the dark, wishing one of those phones had slid down this way to light up the space. Or maybe it was better not to look. Did she really want to see these people-eating creatures so clearly?
The angels threw themselves into the car one after another, their skin scraping on broken glass. Nancy tried to count how many bodies she heard bounce off a bench or land on the floor with a thump, but the stench of death, the metallic stench of blood and meat, filled the entire train car. She held her breath. Slowly, as slowly as she could, she reached into her purse with her injured hand, holding the boy with the other. Her fingers curled around her pepper spray. Her knuckles protested, but adrenaline dulled the pain.
Once she had that, once she''d thumbed the cap off, Nancy sat as still as possible, thankful that Amir wasn''t moving much either. Every time he tried to turn his head toward the sounds of footsteps and handsteps, Nancy held the boy''s head tight and kept him against her chest. She didn''t dare whisper to him. Didn''t dare breathe too loudly. The creatures moved on all fours, from body to body, sniffing and chewing and tearing off limbs. A few people cried out, but that was followed by a hiss and a choked scream, and then the disgusting sounds of feeding. It reminded her of pigs on a farm, lapping up wet food from a trough.
Above, thuds and scrapes and dragging sounds went along the ceiling. The angels must''ve climbed on top too; more screams echoed up and down the tunnels and into the train car. The hissing cut sharply through her thoughts, leaving her with nothing but gut-wrenching fear. Nowhere was safe.
Wanting to throw up, Nancy forced herself to look. She counted four shuffling bodies moving. Four, counting the angel chewing through what was left of the horrible man. The angels looked so painfully like people; it confused her. She''d never imagined angels like this; she''d always pictured them as beautiful beings of light and brilliance. Shining servants of God with gorgeous feathery wings. That was how she''d imagined them all her life, standing beside her, protecting her.
These creatures looked completely wrong. Extremely underweight, moving as though they had no minds, almost animal-like. Sniffing and eating like vultures or raccoons. Their bodies glistened from the phone lights, and their shadows crawled all over the walls, then one of the angels screeched, and this time Nancy couldn''t help but flinch. She banged her head against the train door and Amir wriggled in her arms.
The angel was clawing at its eyes, wailing as it scrambled over a body. It spat blood and hissed, and then its foot kicked a phone. A flashlight bounced all over, causing one of the other angels to hiss in pain too. It smashed itself against a seat, and the entire train car jolted.
The other angels shuffled around, hissing and crying, and Nancy squinted at the first angel that screeched. It was on its elbows and knees, almost like an injured dog. As it clawed its face, blood dripping from the scratch marks on its forehead and cheeks, Nancy realized what had hurt it.
The light.
Someone''s forgotten phone, still beaming its flashlight. The angel had walked over it and looked down, and that must be their weakness. Direct light. Their eyes couldn¡¯t handle the light!
Hope clawed its way down her throat. Shaking, Nancy let go of the pepper spray bottle. It took tremendous effort to release her fingers. She had to shut her eyes and inhale slowly to relax. She felt around slowly, sliding her palm over her purse¡¯s velvet lining. Her fingernails bumped against some cards, some cough drops, and the wrapper of some candy bar she''d forgotten about. She winced as it crinkled, but the sound was muffled inside the purse. Where is it?
The first angel finished feasting on the man across the aisle, his wide-eyed face frozen in permanent horror. His throat and chest had been hollowed out, and his ribs stuck out of the fleshy red mess. Bits of him slid off the seat and landed splat on the floor. Another angel came from Nancy''s left, sniffing the air, its empty eyes scanning the bodies and searching.
Tarnished Angel (level 2)
Glass crunched beneath its hands. Its shoulder blades moved grossly as it crawled closer to her. It''s caught her scent. Her''s and Amir¡¯s, she was sure of it.
Come on. Come one! She couldn''t find her phone; she was trying not to panic, trying not to let it overwhelm her, but her breath came shallow and brisk. Her lungs refused to work. She couldn¡¯t tell if she was shaking or if that was the boy.
This angel had short hair. It was thin like the others, hunched over and hissing softly. Then its empty eyes met Nancy''s. It locked onto her. She felt it in every single one of her bones.
Baring its teeth, the creature hissed sharply and launched itself, arm outstretched, grotesque fingernails reaching for her.
Nancy gave up trying to find her phone. She grabbed the pepper spray and, with the scream she''d been forcing down this entire time, sprayed the angel right in the face.
The burning mist caught it straight in the eyes and mouth, and the creature''s head bounced off the arm rail with an ugly thud. It collapsed to the floor on top of Amir¡¯s grandmother, its skinny, horrible body wriggling in agony as it clawed at its eyes and screeched at the top of its lungs. Its feet jerked blindly, catching Nancy''s wrist and knocking the pepper spray from her grip as she slid across the floor to get away, holding the boy tightly.
There was another thump as the angel that had eaten the man slumped onto the floor. Glistening blood rushed down its throat. It opened its mouth and burped. Then it cocked its head, sniffing.
Tarnished Angel (level 6)
Its number had gone up. It ate the man and its level went higher and now it was eyeing her like dessert. She glanced quickly for the pepper spray; it was rolling away from her as the other angel thrashed in agony, but its thrashing had knocked her purse in her direction, and she could see the glossy casing of her phone sticking out.
The angel pounced. She grabbed her phone. Her fingers trembling, panic shuddering through her every movement, she tapped the screen furiously. She found the button for the flashlight and, just as the angel yanked Amir from her embrace, just as the boy cried out and grabbed her blouse, tearing the cloth further, just as the angel''s reeking breath wafted over Nancy, she flicked her phone up, and aimed the sudden burst of brightness into its face.
For a horrid, twisted instance, she got a clear look at the angel: the taught, stretched-out skin, the red strands of meat stuck between its decaying teeth, the glossy emptiness of its all-white eyes, the thin hairs of its eyebrows. It released Amir and fell away, screaming in agony. It writhed and splashed in a pool of blood.
Nancy stood, shaking, adrenaline pumping through her injured body. She had a way to protect herself. She shouted for Amir to get behind her as she held the phone in front of her, armed with light. The other two angels moved closer, perched on a bench, grasping a pole and hissing. She shone the light in their faces, and they scampered back, arms raised, hissing angrily. They couldn''t attack her as long as she had light, but where was she supposed to go?
She figured the footsteps above meant the angels were working their way down the train. They must¡¯ve come from ahead, so they¡¯d be going after that crowd of people earlier.
What the fuck is even going on?
How had she fallen into a zombie horror movie? Was this a dream? A stress-induced nightmare? No, it couldn¡¯t be. She was awake. She was sure of it. Everything hurt, and the stench of blood was too thick in her nose. She had to focus right now. She was breathing too hard, trying to calculate, trying to figure out her next step. What were these angels doing here? Were they connected to the earthquake? Were Jenny and Oliver alright?
That message in her head... it had said Rapture. Was this it?
Is this Rapture?
She bit her lip. That didn''t matter. She had to get to the surface. If the angels couldn''t stand a little flashlight, then surely, she''d be safe above ground. At least until nighttime.
Amir had scampered behind her legs, staring wide-eyed at the angels. She almost told him not to look, but there was no point. He''d already seen them all, and he was shaking too much, and he clung to the back of her legs, crying silently. She had to get him out of here, but they were stuck in a stalemate. A stalemate that would end violently once her phone''s battery died.
"Okay," she whispered as the angels hissed. The first two she''d blinded had recovered, but they stayed back, like alley cats on high alert, waiting for an opening to pounce. The one she¡¯d sprayed was bleeding profusely from its eyes, its face red and blotchy. "It''s going to be alright," she said loudly, for her own sake as well as the boy''s. She tried to sound confident. "We''re going to move to the front of the train."
The boy whimpered, but he didn''t protest. She''d done the math quickly. She''d been on the train for a while before the earthquake, and they had to be closer to the next stop than the previous one. Everyone who''d run back was probably doomed. Going forward made the most sense, and if help was coming, she could meet them before they got to the train and warn them about these monsters. She swallowed hard, her mind made up.
She stepped back, knelt, and picked up her pepper spray. The boy grabbed something from his grandmother''s bag, and, after a moment of tapping, another source of light shone from it too.
"Good," whispered Nancy. "We have to hold them back at all sides, okay? Just like a video game. The flashlight keeps us safe. We¡¯ll go to the hospital and find your dad."
The boy nodded fervently, his brows furrowed, an intent expression on his little face. He held the phone with both hands, turning this way and that, and the angels hissed and screeched and scrambled out of their way, bounding across the benches and running into poles with hefty thuds to escape the light. One brushed right past Nancy in its mad rush, and she cried out and stumbled back. But it didn¡¯t have a chance to hurt her; the light had flashed in its eyes, and the creature bolted to the far side of the train car. Breathing hard, Nancy led Amir slowly up the aisle until they got to the heavy door.
She told him to keep his eyes and the light on the angels as she struggled to slide the door open. Beyond it, through the cracked windows, she could see the bloody mess in the next car. One of the overhead lights was flickering, and she grimaced at the sight, but at least there weren¡¯t any angels in there.
¡°Okay,¡± she said, her voice strained from the effort, her knee throbbing with pain. She turned back and making sure none of the angels had gotten too close. ¡°We¡¯re going to cross over into the other car.¡±
¡°Nana says we should never do that,¡± said Amir, clutching his phone with both hands. His back was to the angels, and she clenched her teeth out of fear. She stifled the impulse to snap at him.
¡°This is an emergency,¡± she said firmly. ¡°Nana wants us to do our best, right?¡±
He nodded.
Keeping her light on the angel, Nancy motioned for him to go across. ¡°Watch your step. There¡¯s a small gap.¡± Then she hurried after him, glancing at the train tracks below before shutting the door. All the angels screamed and bolted toward them. Just as she opened the next door, just as she managed to hobble inside, she heard a series of thuds and shattered glass. She looked back to see two angels struggling to crawl through the door¡¯s window, their heads and arms thrashing against the other.
70. Foot
The cries for Father quieted as a hush shivered through the crowd of Ghouls. Hundreds of them stood, seemingly dumbstruck, around Yeshua as he pulled deeply from the one he''d captured.
Jenny stared through their legs, through the entire crowd of them, at the source of golden light, as unmistakable sucking and slurping noises cut through the air. She couldn''t see Yeshua clearly, just his silhouette in the golden light holding onto the Ghoul. The robe fluttered around him. She pictured him either kissing the creature or sucking from its eyes, and she couldn''t decide which was worse. Maybe he was just biting its neck like a vampire.
One of the Ghouls let out a choked cry, and, all at once, chaos erupted.
Sobbing and screaming, they rushed away from Yeshua, hundreds of white mannequin forms scrambling, their toothy grins erased from their faces, their wide eyes trailing smoke.
She curled up into a ball as they stepped all over her in their mad frenzy to escape. Several of them fell, hands reaching wildly for anything to grab. Their palms slapped her helmet, fingers cracked the armor around her arms. Several stomped on her injured leg and slipped in her blood. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out, hugging her knees to her chest.
A shout came from Yeshua''s direction, and another massive bolt of lightning struck the ground. Everything shook as thunder rolled violently across the sky, across the world. Through the chaos of rushing Ghouls, through their white limbs, Jenny caught glimpses and flashes of Yeshua snapping from one Ghoul to the next. He was like a bolt of golden lightning zipping through the crowd, pausing every time he caught one, making that horrible slurping noise again.
With his flowing long hair and beard, he reminded Jenny of a lion hunting down a pack of beasts, all of them too frightened to make a stand or fight back, running mindlessly in every direction as he picked them off one by one. All the while, he was laughing.
Laughing loudly with manic glee, a deep, booming laugh, his purple robe billowing behind him as he ran. Milky liquid dripped from his beard, and his chest seemed to be widening, shoulders and arms filling. He was growing bigger. The Ghouls he attacked didn''t burst into liquid like the ones Jenny cut down. These clattered to the ground, lifeless and limp like mannequins tipped over at the mall. After a while, piles and piles of them spread all around Jenny as Yeshua bolted back and forth through the crowd.
Once most of the Ghouls had gotten away, another lifeless white corpse fell from Yeshua''s embrace, he faltered like he was drunk. He swiped his hair back with both hands, sighing deeply, and Jenny wondered how long it had been since he''d touched his hair, his face. Then, hunched over and wiping his lips, Yeshua turned his head and looked right at her.
Panic struck her chest like a drum, and she blinked away the salt the Ghouls had kicked up, trying to clear the cloudiness that blanketed her thoughts.
I need to heal. I need to use my stat points. He''s going to...
Yeshua sauntered toward her, his body swaying left and right. He was shaky on his feet, but golden light bloomed and radiated from his skin. Jenny''s vision kept blurring in and out of focus; he looked like a star had taken the shape of a man and was coming for her.
She released her injured leg, flinching from the pain as she summoned her hatchet back. Light flashed, and she blinked away tears, trying to keep her focus on Yeshua, trying to slide away from him. But even that took more strength than she had left, and her hatchet, now too heavy, slipped out of her hand, bounced off her armor, and landed on the salty ground. What was the use? Even if she poured all her stat points into Strength, there was no way she''d keep up with someone two stages higher than her.
In the blink of an eye, Yeshua towered over her, breathing hard. His chest, though fuller than before, was still scrawny and she could see his ribs jutting out when a breeze swirled around him. It ruffled his long hair and beard and the purple robe so that she could see his thin thighs and his sunken belly; he was clearly still hungry.
Was he going to suck on her too? Was he going to drain her just like the Ghouls? Was he a monster too?
Should I pray to him?
She wondered as he stood there, catching his breath, his golden light brightening and waning. No. The ghouls had been praying to him this entire time... or were they? She couldn''t tell. But they''d been eating him, they''d been hurting him, and it''s not like she''d done anything to hurt him.
Well, I did cut off his hand.
She was trying to be brave, trying to brace herself to fight back, but when Yeshua took another step, when his bare foot landed inches from the bloody stump of her knee, she almost choked on a scream. Her lungs twisted like wet towels.
Don''t come near me. Don''t!
No, no, no, no!
Her insides rebelled; she kept flashing back to the chemistry wing, lying immobile on the table in too much agony to fight back, and how that Wretched Angel had knelt over her, pinning her down with its weight as it pressed its lips to her broken nose and... Shhhrrrlp.
The sound still snaked through her ears and filled the inside of her skull with fear. Not again. Never again.
No!
I''d rather slit my own throat.
But Yeshua held out his arm, palm facing down, over her. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. Don¡¯t cry, she told herself. I deserve this. I deserve this. I killed Susan. I killed Miriam. I deserve this.
He''ll grab my hair and lift me off the ground and-
Red light shot out of his hand with several small bolts of lightning. Crackling and snapping, they rained down on her injured leg, and a furious hot pain once again tore through her leg. This time, Jenny couldn''t hold back the scream.
Agony seared across Jenny like a ferocious storm wind. If she''d had the strength, she would''ve chopped off what was left of her leg, would''ve attacked Yeshua, but pain wracked her body. She writhed on the ground, twisting, her arms and legs jerking involuntarily as she screamed into her helmet till her throat was about to collapse.
Then, all at once, it stopped. The bolts of lightning blinked out of existence, the pain vanished, and Jenny collapsed, breathing hard. Her insides felt scraped out. Yeshua stood over her, smiling kindly, his arms folded in front of him.
She saw flashes of imagery: paintings and statues and stained-glass windows, all of them depicting Jesus, his kind eyes and smile, his powerful presence. Coughing, Jenny slowly pulled off her helmet and turned to her side to push herself up. Both her feet responded.
Wide-eyed, Jenny glanced down to see her foot had grown back, pale and brand new and coming out of her armored knee as though it had always been there. She shot Yeshua a look. Then slowly lowered her head and stared at her new foot. She wiggled her toes; it felt like her foot. She tried to get up, but her elbow gave away, and she almost collapsed again. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Yeshua knelt. "You need to rest," he said. In her exhaustion, all Jenny heard was a series of hisses and shushes until Yeshua repeated himself.
She shook her head, but she couldn''t bring herself to speak. There was a lump in her throat, but now that the pain had subsided, now that someone else was holding her, maybe she could rest. Maybe she could allow herself to rest. And Yeshua wasn''t just anyone. His presence, though she''d just witnessed him butcher a bunch of Ghouls, their lifeless bodies left scattered around the flat land, she found herself trusting in him. His aura, menacing and imposing as it was, was kind.
Bracing her back with one hand, Yeshua raised his other arm and shook it free of his robe. He presented it in front of her face. "You should eat," he said. "You need your strength. You have to maintain your Blooded status or it will consume you."
Saliva flooded Jenny''s mouth as she stared at the fleshy bit of forearm. It was inches away from her teeth. She could smell him: sweet with a hint of savory, salty. Drool spilled over her lips. His soft, light brown skin... it would be so nice to sink her teeth into it. To feel the burst of his blood in her mouth. The delicious warmth. And he was just offering it to her! For free! All she had to do was put him in her mouth and-
It had to be a trick. She''d already been tricked once.
It wouldn''t happen again.
"Eat," repeated Yeshua, making a fist to flex his muscles. "It''s alright, my child. This was how I saved my people once. My flesh is yours. My blood is the covenant, given willingly for the forgiveness of sins."
His voice was too reassuring, too warm. Jenny grabbed his arm, digging her fingernails into his wrist. Red lightning flickered across, as if promising that no matter what she did, what she ate, he would heal right away. Her heart pounded; she could feel it pounding in her jaws, in her throat. Just one bite. Just press my lips to his skin and feel his blood pulsing and...
Her breath came short and quick. Hunger clenched her ribs like a roaring beast. The taste of him was so close, she could already feel his skin tearing open, could already feel his flesh moving down her throat as she swallowed. The warmth that would fill her belly would radiate through her. The strength that would return to her limbs. She would feel whole again; she would feel alive again.
Then she remembered the last time that had happened, and more tears welled up. Tears of hunger and anguish as she pictured Susan''s warm smile. Susan had welcomed Jenny into her arms and she''d....
I have to maintain my Blooded status. So I have every right to eat.
That''s what he said.
But what does that mean?
How does he know about that?
I''ll become that thing again...
But I am already...
Desecrated Human
Susan healed me. At the cost of her life. I don''t want to lose control again.
But what about the fights ahead? What about stronger and stronger enemies? Look how powerful Yeshua is.
I need to get stronger.
And besides. I don''t have to kill anyone for this. Yeshua can regenerate. I could eat as much as I want!
But that would make me no different from the Ghouls. And what if Yeshua is playing me? Just like Eve... Eve promised me victory and power and, in the end...?
I won''t squander Susan''s sacrifice. Not over this.
Her stomach growled, threatening to rip through her skin and latch onto Yeshua, but Jenny shook her head firmly and released his arm. The movement made her head spin, and she lurched to the side.
Yeshua caught her. "My child," he whispered soothingly. "Perhaps then it''s time to rest. But know this, you are forgiven."
She squinted at him, struggling to stay awake, raising her head to ask him what he meant. But his hand hovered over her. His fingers gently touched her forehead. There was another burst of light, and then everything went dark.
--
Jenny awoke beneath the cross, eyes opening to see the severed hand and torn feet still nailed to the wood. Dried blood stuck to the skin. For a dizzying, horrifying second, she pictured herself crucified, her arms spread, the pain of it all as she bared herself to the world. Then she lurched back into her body and sat up gasping. She felt as though she''d been underwater, and she stared at her fingers and palm, peeling her armor back just to make sure there weren''t any holes in her body.
Then she grabbed her feet. The armored one was still intact. The new one, pale skin and smooth, was bare. When she touched it, she shuddered, and her toes curled. She slid her hand down and squeezed her calf muscle, peeling the torn armor back further up her leg, looking for a scar or any indication that her leg had been ripped off. The only difference was the new foot was lighter, cleaner. The rest of her was filthy.
To her side lay Yeshua, facing away from her. She noted that he didn''t have his golden aura while he slept, but he''d piled several more Ghoul bodies around them. Jenny''s nose curled. Liquid leaked from their empty eyes, and their slack-jawed mouths were left open, their heads cracked at the cheeks. Yeshua must''ve been sucking their juices out through their eyes. She shuddered again as she got the ghost of a feeling: his teeth scraping her eyelids as he sucked and sucked...
"Gross," she whispered.
How long was I asleep?
She rubbed her face with her palm before looking around for her hatchet. The sky seemed brighter, or so she thought. It wasn¡¯t sunlight or moonlight; did this place even have stars? There was no way to tell what time of day it was.
Her hatchet was right beside her. The dried blood had been cleaned away, and the flower patterns inscribed into the wooden handle looked beautiful again. The obsidian face almost seemed to shimmer. Her helmet, dented and cracked, rested on the ground next to it, but something else caught her eye. Her severed foot lay waiting behind her helmet.
Armor clung to it, the scales chipped and broken in several places where the Ghouls must''ve chewed. A mangled bone jutted out the top, the bone that once connected to her knee. She suppressed the strange twist of disgust as she stared at her old foot. She was no stranger to having bits of her restored.
Jenny flexed her fingers. An angel had chewed them off once, but Susan grew them back for her. She touched her chest and her side. She''d been impaled by a steel rod then later eaten alive by Miriam. She shut her eyes and sighed, remembering the dumb philosophical dilemma Oliver once told her about. It was an excuse to engage her in conversation, and it had worked on Susan, but Jenny ended up ignoring them both while half-listening. She didn''t remember it exactly. Something about a boat and all its parts being replaced over the years. The old parts were used to build an identical boat, and the riddle asked, which one was the real boat?
Am I still the real me? Jenny tried not to think about that. Don''t we lose cells and stuff every day? We grow back every day. Every day we are someone else... She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. All I ever wanted was to wake up feeling new.
All she¡¯d ever wanted was to get away from home, to get away from her mother¡¯s clutches. She¡¯d wanted to figure out who she was, but now? The only answer she¡¯d found through this nightmare was that she was a bloodthirsty, flesh-eating monster, so consumed by her inner ugliness that she¡¯d killed Susan.
With the damp, weighted feeling of having slept too much dulling her head, Jenny reached over and grabbed the severed foot. It was cold and clammy. The armor had turned dull gray, no longer blue, and some of it curled back. Scales crumpled from her touch, reminding her of dried, dead plants in autumn. She remembered something Dr. Lee had said about their armor being organic. But that all seemed like a lifetime ago. And what about her exoskeleton? That had been organic too, hadn''t it? It had come right out of her.
She peeled and brushed away the dead scales, flakes drifting down like ashes, until a dirty and blood-smeared foot remained. She forced herself to look at the exposed flesh on top, the spiky remains of her bones. Her toenails were too long. The big one had chipped, and she smiled, remembering that she''d bumped it on her dresser table the day before... her smile faded. It had been the day before the earthquake.
She rubbed her ankle, taking note of the brown patch of skin, darkened by endless hours of sitting on her bedroom floor. It was dry and as dark as the bark of an aged tree, and when she ran her thumb over it, the skin seemed to slide right off. Taste yourself, urged something inside her, and Jenny realized she was salivating again.
Her new foot flexed involuntarily, toes digging into the salt, and she glanced down. The new ankle wasn''t dark at all, but pinkish. The nail wasn''t chipped. Even her toes seemed better, less crooked, no longer misshapen from years of walking. Her skin was pale and soft and there were no dry patches on her sole.
But the foot she held in her hand? Its sole felt plump and tender, and she scratched at the nearly hard-as-a-rock dead skin, already picturing herself biting into her heel and... With a frustrated cry and activating Savage Throw, Jenny threw the foot as hard as she could, launching it through the dark, miserable world until it vanished from view.
"Probably should''ve eaten that," said Yeshua from behind her, and she nearly jumped, turning around to face him, ready for a fight. He was sitting up, one arm resting on a knee as he stared intensely. "You are hungry."
Anger crackled up Jenny''s spine. She knew she should be grateful. He''d gotten rid of the Ghouls and healed her leg, but she couldn''t help it. She forced herself to take a breath, to lower her arms. "Who are you?"
As if I don¡¯t already know.
Yeshua stroked his beard. He seemed so different from the desperate, shriveled-up man she''d found nailed to the cross begging to die. He smiled warmly.
"I am who I am," he said after a weighty pause. "He who takes the sin of the material world."
71. Feet
Get away from him, was Jenny''s first impulse.
Get away. Get away.
Leave me alone.
Thoughts bubbled up the back of her head, each one worse than the one before. Flashes of Sunday school, of sermons, and being told who to worship and how to obey. Of her mother slapping Jenny''s face and telling her that Jesus will be ashamed. Of those miserable nights where she''d prayed on the floor till her knees hurt, begging the lord for forgiveness, terrified of what sins she might''ve accumulated by accident, terrified that she was being punished already. After all, good people are rewarded, and she would get punished by her mother, would have to go hungry, would cry herself to sleep.
She''d begged the lord to save her. Studied and read verses from the Bible. Kept trying to find the strength everyone kept saying there would be. She knew the words, or at least once knew, and now here this guy was. A guy she¡¯d found nailed to a cross in another world, looking the part and saying the things she¡¯d grown up hearing. The one who took the sins of the world...
He''d said she was forgiven.
Jenny inhaled deeply, her fear-response making her head spin. She didn''t know what to say. She felt young again, standing in a church that felt like a palace, her small footsteps echoing as she turned around to admire the tapestries above. It was the middle of the night, and her mother was hoping to find shelter and... Jenny had walked up to the enormous statue of the man on the cross and felt this sense of awe, this tremendous fear that her younger mind couldn''t figure out, a pressure that a foot was hanging over her head just waiting to come down and crush her like a bug.
That same feeling came back to her as she looked at Yeshua. That was how she knew who he was.
"May I ask you something?" he said, one leg folded beneath him, his arm resting on the knee of the other. "Why didn''t you kill me?"
Jenny bit down on the inside of her lips. "I don''t know. I figured if you wanted to die, you could die after you got off that thing." She remembered her decision. Throwing her hatchet. Slicing through Yeshua''s arm. The red bolt of lightning. Why had she set him free?
Wasn¡¯t it to save herself? She¡¯d been surrounded by the ghouls, and she figured he was powerful. And that healing ability... was that where the stories came from?
Could he... resurrect the dead with that ability?
She smushed her new big toe against the sand, bending the toenail, feeling the flex of her muscles. Was this how he¡¯d done it? In the stories? Healing the ill, restoring the disabled, giving strength to those who couldn¡¯t walk or take care of themselves?
Ideas and memories spun. Stories from the past. Readings of the Bible. The fish and the loaves of bread... Had he just using the system to produce mass quantities of food? And what about walking on water? Did he have a skill that allowed him to cross over the waves without sinking? But most importantly... healing and resurrecting the dead?
Susan.
Yeshua had been quiet. It was a solemn, weighty quiet. "I am glad to be alive. Being alive is a very good thing." He shut his eyes, raised his head as though in prayer, and swallowed hard. Jenny saw his Adam''s Apple moving up and down. Then he straightened up and walked over to the cross. He touched the feet he''d left nailed to the wood and glanced at Jenny. "Are you sure I can''t interest you in something to eat? You and I... We have to eat a different kind of food now. And the System can no longer create the sustenance we require.¡±
"What?¡± asked Jenny, squinting at him. Her stomach twisted and rumbled with furious hunger as she watched him touch his torn feet. It was like he was inspecting vegetables growing on a vine. ¡°What do you mean?¡±
He shot her a tight-lipped smile then turned back to his feet. It was one foot over the other, both of them ripped at the shins, almost exactly where Jenny¡¯s foot had broken off earlier. A nail with a round head, driven through the center of each foot, held them in place. Dried blood stuck to the skin, blood from when he¡¯d struggled to break free.
Yeshua grabbed the cross with one hand and braced himself. Then, with a grunt, he grabbed his feet and yanked them upwards.
There was a gross tearing sound, a series of cracks as the nail moved through a series of bones. Then, with a final soft cry of effort, Yeshua popped his feet free.
Thick, dark blood oozed from the gash between his toes where the nail had ripped through. He separated the feet, toes and loose skin flapping, and Jenny couldn''t help but be reminded of jelly-filled donuts.
Something flickered in Yeshua¡¯s expression. Hunger. A fierce, violent hunger that Jenny recognized. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and he smiled at Jenny. "Go on," he suggested. "Give the System a try. Make some food. Anything. The only way to learn is to try."
The sight of the feet made Jenny feel weak. She wanted to snatch one from Yeshua¡¯s hands. Wanted to bite off the toes one by one. Wanted to sink her teeth into the wrinkled pink flesh of the heel. His feet looked so much more appetizing than Jenny''s had; they were larger, fleshier. More of a meal. More meat. Yeshua wanted her to create food using the System, and she... she wanted the foot, yes, but what had he meant before? The system can no longer create the sustenance we require... If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
What does that mean?
I can¡¯t eat... normal food?
She placed one hand on her stomach, trying to quiet the restless hunger, holding out her other hand in front of her, palm facing upward. She kept reminding herself she wasn¡¯t a monster anymore. She didn¡¯t have an exoskeleton. She didn¡¯t have tentacles. She wasn¡¯t....
Give me a banana or something, she thought, turning away as she focused her mind on the Guidance System in her head. A shudder of uneasiness crept up her side; she kept expecting Eve to respond whenever she used the System.
A banana will cost 100 Energy.
Sufficient energy
Golden light shimmered on top of her palm. Blossoming and stretching, elongating and curving like a rounded crescent moon before hardening. The light remained yellow and bright, and after a moment, it faded away and Jenny held a perfect banana in her hand, just waiting to be peeled.
"Ah, a banana," said Yeshua over her shoulder, and Jenny flinched.
But before she could snap at him, she caught sight of him chewing, the blood oozing down his chin and into his beard. That queasy twist of hunger wrung out her insides, and she swallowed what she was going to say.
¡°I used to love bananas,¡± he said thoughtfully before putting the big toe in his mouth. His teeth connected with a crunch, and she watched him chew and swallow. Then he nodded toward her banana. ¡°Tell me how that tastes. I hope it¡¯s good.¡±
Is he... Is he antagonizing me?
Saliva gushed in her mouth. She tried to convince herself it was because of the banana. She could smell its sweet, fruity aroma, and she hadn''t eaten in so long... Why shouldn¡¯t she be salivating?
But that wasn¡¯t true, was it? She¡¯d eaten Miriam. She¡¯d taken a chunk out of Susan. She¡¯d eaten angels. She¡¯d eaten plenty, yet she was starving.
Desecrated Human...
She punctured the top of the banana with her fingernail before pulling the peel down. Strands of banana fiber stretched as she turned the banana around, peeling carefully and slowly to reveal the curved white flesh of the fruit. She fought the urge to shove the entire thing into her mouth, but her hands shook as she stared at it. White and creamy, and the fruity scent so strong in her nose. She tore a sizeable chunk off the top.
The banana felt cool between her thumb and fingers, and she held it in front of her, her eyes flicking toward the half-eaten foot in Yeshua¡¯s hands, the toes now gone, the bones exposed in a grizzly sight. Again, saliva filled her mouth, and she met Yeshua¡¯s intense gaze.
"Eat," he said. "Then you will know."
Okay, okay. Jenny forced herself to relax her jaws. What was going on? Her entire body was hesitating, and a ballooning feeling of dread filled her chest as she brought the banana chunk to her lips. Tingling raced up and down her legs. Her lungs contracted; what the fuck?
As soon as the banana touched her tongue and she closed her mouth, she understood. The rest of the banana fell from her shaking hand and landed with a soft splat on the ground.
It tasted like vomit. It tasted foul and bitter and rancid. The squishy texture felt like a chunk of mucus. Her bottom jaw ached. Her entire body convulsed, every signal firing: spit it out!
But Jenny¡¯s trembling fingers kept her lips shut. She was trying to force herself to eat. She looked up at Yeshua who smiled sadly, before turning away, as if averting his gaze to give her privacy. Jenny took a shaky step forward, still trying to keep the banana down, trying to swallow. She glanced at the cross, hopelessness welling up inside her like a cavernous beast as she fought against the terrible feeling. She was shaking. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shut her eyes and clenched her fists. And then, when she couldn''t withstand it anymore, she threw up.
She dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach as she heaved again. There wasn¡¯t much left in her stomach. Mostly water and blood and bile. But it splashed onto the sand, and in the middle of it, sat the glistening chunk of banana, her teeth marks visible in the gooey white flesh.
When it was over, when her body had calmed down enough, Jenny flopped onto the ground, breathing hard as spittle stuck to her chin. Her mouth tasted acidic, bitter and burning.
I can¡¯t eat normal food anymore...
"I am truly sorry," said Yeshua gently. His voice drifted down to her as though he was speaking from the sky. "Once we become Blooded, even if the status disappears, our internal systems are forever changed."
Blooded. That notification... Jenny remembered when she¡¯d first gotten it. When she should¡¯ve died as countless angels pulled her battered, falling apart body toward the Desecrated Angel. She¡¯d taken a bite out of one of them, desperate to fight, desperate to get out of their clutches.
She remembered how wonderful it felt. The way flesh had given way to her teeth, and saliva gushed in her mouth even though her tongue burned from the banana she¡¯d tried to eat. It overflowed, escaping her lips and running down the sides of her face toward her ears. She sat up quickly and wiped it off.
Yeshua placed the foot he hadn¡¯t eaten in front of her. ¡°For when you are ready,¡± he said, sitting beside her on the ground. ¡°I would like to hear about how you came to this world. How you became Desecrated, especially when are you so against consuming flesh.¡±
Wanting to cry, Jenny reached for the foot. Her fingers closed around what was left of the ankle and she brought it toward her, holding it as though it was a sandwich and not a man''s foot. She couldn''t look at Yeshua. Couldn''t take her eyes off the meal. Her stomach felt twisted and gross from throwing up again, and her throat felt scraped raw, but she knew beyond a doubt that Yeshua was right. She would have to eat; she so badly wanted to eat.
Turning the foot over and bringing the heel to her lips, she braced herself. It was cold. Cold and bumpy, and she held her lips against the weathered skin for a while. The metallic sweetness of dried blood rose from the torn skin and exposed muscle and bone. The scent filled her nose and her lungs; she inhaled deeply. Her thumbs pressing into the sole, she sank her teeth into the heel and fresh tears slid down her cheeks.
This is my body. This is my blood.
She''d been so hungry. She''d been so, so hungry. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, shoulders shaking as she ate. As the word filled her mind again:
Blooded.
She expected her exoskeleton to burst out of her belly button, red and viscous and thick. She expected the tentacles to surge from her back, transforming her into an uncontrollable monster again. But after the first bite and the second, after she¡¯d nibbled on the heel and flesh filled her stomach and nothing changed, her shoulders relaxed, she shuddered and stifled the urge to cry. She ate more readily, snapping and crackling through the elongated bones of the toes.
Maybe I have more control over it than I thought... Maybe there¡¯s still hope for me.
She wiped away the tears. And then she told Yeshua everything, starting with the earthquake, the first angel she¡¯d seen, and ending with the rainbow light that brought her to this bleak world.
72. Eema
The bottom of the cross dragged along the ground, the scraping sound a steady constant as Yeshua carried it over his shoulder. One end of the crossbeam stuck out like a shark fin, and Jenny followed quietly, feeling as though the dark emptiness of the world had brightened immensely since she¡¯d told him everything.
Hissing and shushing in the language of angels, she¡¯d spoken at length about the Survival Challenge. About the angels she¡¯d fought, the people she¡¯d seen die, the nightmarish scenes she¡¯d stumbled into. She''d described the blue-colored angel who¡¯d become Desecrated and about the babies that had followed her around. She¡¯d spoken about her brother, about Ms. Monique and the others, and Susan. She¡¯d said a lot about Susan: her kindness, her bravery, her abilities, her sacrifice. Yeshua looked a little amused when Jenny described Susan¡¯s blue hair.
¡°A girl with blue hair? I¡¯ve never seen such a thing among humans,¡± he¡¯d said. He¡¯d spoken as though he was trying to lighten the mood. ¡°You must care greatly for this friend.¡±
¡°Yeah... as a friend,¡± she¡¯d said, unsure how to explain how she really felt. And she was about to let it go and carry on describing her tentacles, but then she couldn¡¯t help herself. ¡°I think... I think it¡¯s more than just as a friend.¡±
¡°I see,¡± he¡¯d said, stroking his beard. Jenny thought he¡¯d admonish her, denote her feelings as sinful and condemn her, but he was smiling. ¡°Love is truly a radiant thing,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Blessed are the ones who love, for they bring warmth to the worlds and shall receive love in return.¡±
His words resounded like a prayer or a sermon or something, something more than just a mere phrase, and Jenny felt a sense of weightlessness. It felt good. It was nice listening to him speak, but the feeling faded as quickly as it had come. Jenny fumbled her next words as she described everything else. She told him about Eve and the promises it had made, how she¡¯d used Severed Spirit, and about Miriam.
She described the weird memory of life as an angel, the darkness on the cafeteria floor, about how she¡¯d pulled everyone through the light. How they¡¯d avoided the end of the Survival Challenge. How there was no true victor. How she¡¯d brought about the apocalypse.
Then she told him about giving birth to Eve, and Yeshua was quiet again. For a while, the only sounds were Jenny¡¯s chewing, finishing up the foot he¡¯d given her. She¡¯d crunched through bones and toenails and veins, not wasting a single bit of flesh, and it wasn¡¯t till she¡¯d finished that she realized she¡¯d eaten all of it. Her hand went to her stomach, thinking she¡¯d be sick, but her body made good use of the meal. Strength returned to her muscles and limbs, and she felt satisfied. She felt restored.
She¡¯d eaten.
That was when Yeshua stood up, his purple robe billowing about him as he twisted from side to side. He looked at her, a faint smile on his face, and said, ¡°Follow me.¡±
He hadn¡¯t said another word since. Jenny trailed along, sometimes a few paces behind him, watching the wooden beam bounce along the dark sand, watching the muscles of Yeshua¡¯s broad back roll as he lumbered forward. He kept a steady pace despite the apparent weight of the cross. Jenny wanted to help him, but he¡¯d given her an intense look earlier when he¡¯d struggled to hoist it over his shoulder. It was a look that said: this is my burden to bear.
Sometimes she walked beside him, thinking about all the stories and sermons she''d heard about ¡°walking with Jesus.¡± How Jesus carried people during their hardest times even though most people assumed they were alone. Forsaken by God.
She wasn¡¯t sure where they were headed but she didn¡¯t mind the quiet. She¡¯d spoken for such a long time that her throat hurt. With a small flash of golden light, she made a water bottle for herself. Don¡¯t forget to hydrate. Susan¡¯s voice floated through her thoughts, and it brought her warmth.
Love is a radiant thing, he¡¯d said. Why wasn¡¯t that in the old texts? Why wasn¡¯t that written and expressed everywhere?
After a long while of walking, the pillars came into view, and Yeshua spoke in a strained voice. ¡°I have been thinking very hard about what you have shared with me. I would like you to know that I am very sorry for your loss. I too have lost many, and it was my fault, for I had asked them to follow in my footsteps.¡± He kept walking forward, his sweat-drenched hair bouncing, his robe fluttering around his knees. The cross only seemed to get heavier, and he hunched forward a bit more.
Jenny didn¡¯t respond. She knew all the stories of the apostles and how they¡¯d died in horrible ways. She knew of the persecution, and then she thought of how their words reached the eastern edges of Asia. How there¡¯d been turmoil as her ancestors either rejected the faith or embraced it, and the bloodshed that followed. She didn¡¯t know what to make of that.
Yeshua continued. ¡°My eema liked to say that all things have their time. And then she¡¯d say, ¡®If not now, when?¡¯ And for a long time, I did not understand. But she was a very strong woman, and I think you are like my eema.¡±
¡°Eema?¡± echoed Jenny. This word wasn¡¯t spoken in angel tongue. It wasn¡¯t hissed through teeth. It was said lovingly, in a language she¡¯d never heard before, but even though she¡¯d asked, she already understood what it meant.
¡°My mother,¡± he said. ¡°My mother, Myriam. The First Mary.¡±
At his words, a shiver tangled itself around Jenny¡¯s spine. Miriam?
¡°Myriam was a common name in my time. I had many friends who went by that name, and they even adopted the name Mary.¡± He chuckled a little bit, pausing to catch his breath. A raspy wheezing sound had snuck into his voice. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his head, clung to his beard, and dripped off. His arms and legs were shaking, but he turned to smile at her over his shoulder. ¡°It was the cause of much confusion. But Mary wasn¡¯t just a name. Mary was a title bestowed upon my eema. Mary, Mother of God they called her. But as you can see, I am just a man.¡±
He fell quiet again. Jenny got the sense that a lot of heavy emotions and memories were going through his mind, and she felt similarly. Questions burned holes in her thoughts, but she listened patiently, just as he¡¯d listened to her.
"My eema was the victor of a Survival Challenge. Like you, she was sought out by a voice. Ushered. Guided. And she slaughtered endless numbers of angels and humans alike. She was young too, and she recognized who the voice belonged to. Whose will had taken root in her mind.¡± Yeshua sighed deeply. ¡°At first, as many of us would be, she was ecstatic to be host to the Lord. After all, how many generations of her family had prayed to Him? Had begged Him for guidance? And now there He was, in the midst of hell, guiding her. Granting her the strength to fight. Pushing her forward when she wanted to collapse. She believed she was chosen. Blessed. Acting out the will of Adonai. El Shaddai. Elohim.¡±
Jenny slowed her steps. She remembered that train of thought, remembered how she¡¯d felt when Eve had shown her visions of powerful people. Victors of past Survival Challenges. Of Gods and Goddesses and their many powers. Eve had promised her that strength. It had fueled Jenny with want. With need. If only she could be so powerful, then she¡¯d solve all her problems.
But Eve had only used her. She¡¯d just been a means to an end. And as Yeshua went on, she learned that his eema had been similarly used.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
¡°Why she was chosen, we will never know,¡± continued Yeshua, sweating more and sounding upset. ¡°But in the blood and horror, as she herself became powerful, she realized what He was. He wasn¡¯t a force for good. He wasn¡¯t what her fathers and mothers had prayed to. He couldn¡¯t be. He wasn¡¯t love. He wasn¡¯t truth. He was nothing but despair and anger. My eema made many mistakes. She¡¯d hurt people. She¡¯d slaughtered so many... Because of His presence and promises, she¡¯d prioritized victory and His will over all else. He¡¯d declared everyone else sinners, that she was exacting divine justice.¡±
He stopped, breathing hard. He gently straightened up, placing the cross down before letting it go. She wasn¡¯t sure if it was an ability or something, but somehow the cross stood on its own, and Yeshua stumbled forward.
Ahead of them were the pillars, the misshapen things that stuck out of the ground like a bizarre forest. Was this the same areaJenny had been before Yeshua pulled her toward him? She wasn¡¯t sure. All the pillars looked virtually the same. Does Yeshua know what they are?
¡°The Deaths,¡± he said as if reading her mind. He wiped his brow and bowed his head, his wet hair falling forward. ¡°This is the world where it all began. With Death. This was why my eema made her sacrifice.¡±
Jenny tried to speak but the words felt too thick. She cleared her throat, unease slowly unraveling in her belly as she eyed the pillars. ¡°What happened to her?¡±
¡°My eema had a very powerful ability,¡± he said, straightening up and raising his face to the sky again. Red lightning flickered across his arms and down his legs. ¡°A healing ability that even He could not stop. She emerged from her challenge after seven nights, returning to her home covered in blood, her belly swollen.¡± He turned to face Jenny and held out his hand.
She blinked at it in confusion. The sheen of sweat had vanished from his face. The strain of carrying the cross was gone, and he had that healthy glow about him again.
¡°Take my hand,¡± he said. ¡°Allow me to show you my eema.¡±
¡°Okay?¡± whispered Jenny. She hesitated, but that earnest expression on his face made her want to trust him. Besides, if he''d meant harm, he wouldn''t have let her sleep in peace earlier. She reached out and placed her hand onto his much bigger hand.
He closed his other hand over hers and shut his eyes. For a while, nothing happened. She only felt the warmth of being encased in his hands, but then he uttered one word.
¡°See.¡±
And everything, Yeshua, the pillars, the dark sand, and the cross, faded away from view. A series of images filled Jenny¡¯s mind. It reminded her of the visions Eve would show her, but this was different. She lost all sense of self. She was a disembodied viewer observing as a young woman with brown skin and long dark hair stepped into view.
The girl wore red and golden armor. She carried a helmet in one hand. A long feather stuck out of it, but as she stumbled forward, the cracked parts of her armor, around her legs and her shoulders, broke away and fell. She was covered in dried blood, and she looked like she hadn¡¯t slept in days. She was Mary.
As people in flowing robes rushed to help, others pointed and shouted at the cluster of collapsed houses behind her. Her challenge must¡¯ve involved a bunch of homes, not just one building like Jenny¡¯s high school. But Mary fell to her knees, her eyes wide with fear, and a blood-curling scream tore through the vision.
The imagery stirred, and Mary was in a private room, lying on a bed on her back, her belly so big it looked like a whole person had crawled inside her body.
Women fretted all around. Priests in dark robes chanted as Mary shrieked at the top of her lungs, clawing at the sheets and the blankets, kicking aimlessly with her feet. Her legs were spread open, her tunic stained completely with blood. Red lightning flashed violently between her thighs, flickering over and over as the midwives and the other women cowered, as the priests tried chanting louder and louder, shaking sprigs of various herbs and sprinkling holy water.
But the lightning, red and intense, only lashed out more dangerously. It flickered across the entire home, and Jenny thought it would shatter everything around them. That it would leave scorch marks and burn the women and the priests to ashes, but there was no fire, no damage, nothing. And it went on for what felt like forever, all the while the woman screamed, her eyes bloodshot, her face ghastly, sunken in. She almost looked like a tarnished angel.
The midwife fled. The other women ran away. The priests cowered outside the home where a desperate-looking man paced back and forth. He was angry and terrified and shouted at the priests. He was the only one brave enough to go back inside. He held Mary¡¯s hand and stroked her sweat-drenched face as her body convulsed. As her legs kicked. As more red bolts of lightning erupted from between her legs. She only slept when she passed out, but the lightning continued to work. The man, who must¡¯ve been her husband, brought her water and bread, holding it to her lips, trying to get her to eat. Lightning sparked up and down her entire body, and Jenny understood what was happening.
Mary was refusing to give birth. She¡¯d emerged from her Survival Challenge, victorious and powerful, and she¡¯d become pregnant just as Jenny had. But Mary had been stronger. She¡¯d held on, using her ability to heal herself continuously, refusing to give birth to Him.
The images flickered with the light, and Jenny got the sense that days went by. Weeks and months and maybe even years. All the while, Mary struggled on the bed, screaming and screaming. Red lightning danced, her face contorted in pain, her legs kicked. She remained bedridden the entire time, her swollen belly rippling as the creature inside tried to tear its way through. The screaming. The crying. The pleading.
She could¡¯ve given in. She could¡¯ve just let it end. But she held on.
Why?
One night, Mary stopped screaming. She rose from the bed as though something had grabbed her by her swollen torso and lifted her up. The lightning flickered softly, and her husband called for the priests and the healers and the midwife. Anyone who might be able to help. But all they could do was watch as Mary¡¯s body levitated. Her eyes rolled back into her head. Her belly rippled violently. It almost looked like she¡¯d give birth, but something smoky, something shadowy, plumed out of her bellybutton instead.
It gushed out like the smoke billowing from a volcano during an eruption. Lightning crackled and sizzled and popped, and a face appeared in the smoke. A face that screamed and howled, as though trying to escape the smoke, but a wind blew through the home, and the smoke dissipated. The face faded away, and all at once, everything stopped.
Mary collapsed in bed. There was no more lightning. The priests and their dark robes looked in awe. The midwives rushed to her side. She cried out again and a deluge of blood gushed between her legs.
And there, curled up and red-faced and still attached to his mother by the umbilical cord, was a baby.
The images started fading as an exhausted Mary struggled, her eyes flickering to stay open, her body ragged and worn down and broken, her swollen belly deflated as more blood gushed from her insides. She held out her hand. One of the women wiped the baby down with a cloth. It wasn¡¯t crying. It looked bright and alert, its little hands and feet kicking as it turned its head every which way.
Mary nuzzled the baby into her arms. Wrinkles had formed deep grooves on her face. Her hair had turned gray and ashy. And even though she was bleeding, her lightning no longer worked. She held the baby to her chest and spoke in a raspy, choked whisper, ¡°Yeshua.¡±
With a shudder, Jenny came out of the vision. Her hand slipped out of Yeshua¡¯s, and she took a step back. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Yeshua was smiling. ¡°My eema was a strong woman. The First Mary.¡±
¡°Did I make a mistake?¡± whispered Jenny. She was shaking. ¡°Did I make a mistake by giving birth to Eve?¡±
¡°I do not think so,¡± said Yeshua. ¡°Eve and Adonai are not the same. Opposite forces maybe, but... we shall see. Our actions are irreversible. Right or wrong isn¡¯t the question anymore. We must focus on what we can do now.¡±
Jenny sniffled, her heart torn by what she¡¯d seen of Mary. ¡°Does this make me... the Second Mary? I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±
¡°You want to find your Susan, yes?¡±
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
¡°Then help me, Jenny Huang. Help me save Death and I will help you find your Susan.¡±
"How?" She looked at the pillars behind Yeshua; she couldn''t look him in the eyes. Her mind still swam with images of Mary, pregnant and engulfed in red lightning. It was the same lightning that Yeshua had. And what was that shadowy face that came out of Mary? Was that... Him?
And am I really the Second Mary?
What does that mean?
Her hand went to her belly, her fingertips pressing against skin through the chips and cracks in her armor.
Yeshua took a deep breath. "You have told me of an ability, an ability so rare that I believe it is unique in its expression. Unique in the woman manifesting such power for I have never seen or heard of such an ability in the hands of a mortal."
Jenny wiped her nose and sniffled. "Do you mean?" She raised her hand and used Valescent Light. Colors flared to life around her fingers. A golden aura emanated from her skin, and Yeshua looked at it with his eyebrows raised.
His lips twitched with the hint of a smile, but he shook his head. "While that is a very beautiful and warm blessing, something I have not seen in such a long time, it is not the ability I am referring to. This power is all your own."
She shook her hand free of the light. She knew which one he''d meant, but she''d hoped she was wrong. Her insides twisted. Fear crawled along the back of her neck.
"I believe you called it Severed Spirit."
73. The next stop is... (Nancy)
Every ounce of instinct in Nancy¡¯s body was screaming at her. This couldn¡¯t be real. This couldn¡¯t be happening. But even as her muscles and her limbs refused to accept the bodies and blood, the broken glass crunching beneath her feet, she felt a strange, cold sharpness. A clarity she¡¯d never felt before. There was no anxiety, no panicking, just a burning desire to get to the front of the train while keeping Amir safe, and getting outside.
She wanted to get to her kids. Jenny and Oliver. Were they safe? Were they in danger? The earthquake had to have brought them back. This was an act of God. But what are these angels? Were these things attacking her children too?
And her damn phone. It didn''t seem to be connecting now. She''d gotten a warbled call through before. She''d heard Henry''s voice. But nothing would load now. No texts would send. She couldn''t call for help. There was no more signal. Was that because of the earthquake? Was there a power outage on the surface too?
But these worries wouldn¡¯t help her, so she didn¡¯t worry. Her mind emptied of everything but her surroundings, and she put one foot in front of the other.
She tried not to slip on blood. Tried not to notice the carnage. Opening the heavy doors at the end of each train car was painful; it took too much arm strength to slide open. Then she had to hold it for Amir to get out, and her hands were injured already. The crossing between cars wasn¡¯t easy either. Once she¡¯d shut one door behind her, they were stuck in between cars, in the sweltering heat of the underground tunnel, in the dark, as all the train lights had finally gone out. If it weren¡¯t for their phones, they would¡¯ve been helpless.
There was a tiny gap between each car that they had to step over. She¡¯d been worried about Amir¡¯s legs being too short, but he¡¯d crossed well enough. Though he kept looking down in fear. After the second car they¡¯d gone through, an angel tried to attack from above as they moved into the next car.
Nancy spritzed the creature in the face with pepper spray then ducked as its arms swung blindly, the hissing and screaming hurting her ears as she pulled the next door open, hurried Amir inside, and followed as quickly as she could. Each breath was strained. Her ribs hurt so much, she was barely upright, but there wasn''t a moment to rest.
An angel was already in this train car, feasting on a man crying softly for help. Amir flashed it in the face with his phone''s light, and the creature scrambled to the far side of the car, screeching in pain, moving on all fours like some sort of demented zombie. It crawled out through a window, glass cutting into its hips and thin legs.
Footsteps followed along the metal ceiling. More hissing noises echoed around the tunnel, and Nancy stepped over bodies, making sure not to trip. If she fell again, she wasn''t sure she''d be able to get back up. She ignored the man who was crying softly and told Amir sternly to keep moving. The man wore a dress shirt and tie, and was lying on his side, eyes glossed over. The angel had torn into his side, exposing much of his guts, and Nancy knew he didn¡¯t have much time left. There was nothing she could do for him.
She tried to move quickly, but there was too much blood, too many bodies. And Amir was struggling to keep up. Their lights shone on torn chunks of flesh, teeth marks, and exposed bones. Streaks and hand prints of blood on poles and door windows and benches. But that wasn¡¯t even the worst part. It was the eyes.
People¡¯s eyes stared at nothing, glistening in every flicker of light. And the smell. It smelled like metal that had been sitting in the sun too long. She got the sense that the angels had attacked so quickly and suddenly. But there were too many people, too much prey, and they pounced from one to the other trying to gorge on as many as possible. Or were they just hunting for sport? Killing just because they could.
Some bodies had been trampled to death, shoe prints on their backs or faces. Others must¡¯ve gotten hurt in the initial earthquake, easy targets for the angels when the onslaught began. She wished she could cover Amir¡¯s eyes. She wished she could scoop him up and carry him out of this nightmare, but she needed his set of hands. They both had to be alert with their phones. That was the only thing keeping the angels at bay, and her pepper spray was almost out. She wished Henry was with her. Henry and his gun. Was this the ¡°just in case¡± he¡¯d had in mind?
It helped that Amir was quick. Even though he trotted along slowly behind her, whenever a ghastly face appeared at a broken window, he¡¯d cry out and shine the light right into their eyes. The angel would tumble off in a fit of screaming, shards of glass raining down in and outside of the car. The boy didn¡¯t seem too bothered by the bodies. Or if it did bother him, he didn¡¯t say anything. Maybe he thought it was a video game. Or a movie. Kids grew up watching much worse these days, she told herself. Or was she just trying to convince herself that things weren¡¯t as bad as they were?
What would happen once their phones died? Batteries didn¡¯t run forever. And what if the angels realize they could just shut their eyes or cover their faces? In a face-to-face fight, those things would tear Nancy apart.
Don¡¯t worry about that now. Calm. Stay calm.
They made it to the last train car, the very front of the entire train. But this final door wouldn¡¯t open no matter how hard Nancy shook the handle and yanked. It was locked from the inside. She shone her light through the window. This one was denser and darker than the other windows on the train, but Nancy could see the conductor.
A uniformed body lay slumped against the controls. He was missing most of one shoulder and arm, blood dripping from the wound. Nancy grimaced. Beyond him was the shattered front glass of the train; she¡¯d been hoping they could get into the conductor¡¯s room then out through his door.
Exasperated, she tried turning the handle again, but it wouldn¡¯t budge. She glanced to her right and left at the sliding doors. Could she pry them open? With her hand as injured as it was? With how weak she was? And all that noise would surely attract the angels right to them. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Her plan had come to a dead end, and her clarity was falling apart. It was too hard to think.
She was too aware of the footsteps above and the hissing echoing around the tunnel. At least the angels weren¡¯t inside the car with them. But... She wondered if she could crawl out through a broken window. If she could get the boy out that way. But it was no good. The glass would cut into them, and they¡¯d be an easy meal for the angels.
Did she really have any chance of surviving this? She squeezed her phone and glanced around the train car again, trying to find any possible escape route. They just had to get to the station ahead. Then they could get to the surface. To sunlight. And there¡¯d be more people there. Police officers. Firemen. Rescue operatives. Maybe even the National Guard. She just had to get there.
Maybe... an idea lit up Nancy¡¯s thoughts as her light shone on the opposite side of the train car. Between each car was that tiny gap, and it was a little more of a gap on either side of the hooks that connected the cars. There were large cables that prevented them from just stepping off the sides, but that gap beside the hook... they¡¯d have to squeeze through, but she was sure she could fit. She was thin and small, and the boy was even smaller. That was their best hope.
¡°C¡¯mon,¡± she said, hobbling briskly back the way they¡¯d come. Amir hurried after her, one hand on her skirt, the other hand aiming the phone behind him. A hand emerged from a window and squeezed jagged glass, drawing blood. The sheen of a forehead appeared next, but Nancy put it out of her mind. Her heart was pounding so hard, she felt it in her throat, and she focused as intently as she could on the door. Get to the door.
She slid it open, forearms straining, just as that angel climbed into the train car and went sprawling over a bench. ¡°You first,¡± she whispered, holding the door for Amir. Once they were in the gap, she shut the door before the angel could realize where they¡¯d gone. She held her breath.
Amir looked up at her with wide eyes. He puffed out his cheek and glanced at the doors. ¡°Are we moving back to Nana?¡±
She shook her head. ¡°We¡¯re going to drop down here. See the gap?¡±
She shone her light on the space between the two cars. A large metal hook and binding went across the center, but on either side of the hook was space. Glass clinked in the train car, and she hoped more angels had gone inside. She nudged the boy forward with one hand and gave his shoulder a squeeze. In the sweltering heat, it was difficult to breathe, and Amir kept clinging to her leg. He glanced down at the dark tracks below and shook his head.
¡°It¡¯s going to be alright,¡± she said, trying to stifle her own pounding sense of dread. She scanned the ceiling of the tunnel, keeping the light focused on the floor. That gave her enough visibility to make sure nothing was above them. Nothing would pop out from the train tops. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll go first. We¡¯re going to duck down under these cables, see? Then edge along the tunnel.¡±
The gap looked even tinier now. Shaking, she lowered herself till she was sitting on the metal ledge, lowering her feet into the space below. She ignored the horrifying image of getting stuck halfway, her head and upper body a buffet for the angels as her legs kicked uselessly. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Were there rats down there?
Filthy, disease-ridden rats?
Did rats really matter right now?
She sucked in her belly, wincing at the sharp pain in her ribs, then glanced assuredly at Amir. Holding onto train with her good arm, lowered her hips through the gap. She went lower and lower until her shoe felt the metal hardness of the railing. Never touch the third rail, she remembered. That¡¯s where the electricity ran, but she had no way of knowing which one was the third rail, and either way, nothing responded to the bottom of her shoe. Slowly, she let go of the train and stood on the rail.
She tried to smile encouragingly at Amir, most of her body beneath the train now. He shone his light into her face, and she squinted.
¡°Don¡¯t look,¡± she whispered, holding out her hand. ¡°Come one now. Nearly there.... yes. I got you.¡± He sat down on the edge just as she had. But instead of letting go, he held on. And she realized he couldn¡¯t jump. He was too short. He¡¯d trip on the rail and... She repositioned herself so he could slide off the train and onto her.
But as he threw his arms around her, his phone slipped from his grip and cluttered down to the bottom. She clutched his head to her chest as she knelt into the dark space, her heart pounding so hard, terrified the angels had heard the nose. The phone had landed face down, its light shining upward and illumining the metal underbelly of the train. She kicked it away, so that its light wouldn¡¯t be as visible, then she ducked beneath the cables, suppressing a groan as her bones protested, and made her way to the side of the train.
She wished there was enough space for them to crawl beneath the train. Even if it meant being on her hands and knees, crawling over the filthy railing. But there was no time for what ifs, and she slipped into the gap between the side of the train and the tunnel wall.
¡°I¡¯m setting you down,¡± she whispered as quietly as she could. The boy shook his head, but she had no choice. They couldn¡¯t move in this space if she was holding him; they had to flatten themselves against the wall.
Once she¡¯d set him down, she showed him her plan. She tucked her phone into her coat pocket, obscuring the light so that only a soft glow illuminated the metal skin of the train in front of them, and flattened herself against the tunnel wall. She ignored the crawling sense of filth, how dirty it must be, how she was ruining her hair and the back of her coat, but what did that matter. She stepped forward, the train in front of her, its unmoving metallic body looking like a gigantic insect.
Sucking in her breath, she heard a soft crackling in her lungs. Her knees burned as she extended her leg to the side before sliding her body forward. She motioned for Amir to follow, and he did the same as her. Flattening himself against the tunnel side and moving sideways, shuffling his feet with careful steps. If there was just a bit more space, the two of them could walk facing forward, but at least the windows were too high up for them to peer into the train car. She could hear angels scrambling inside. Could hear them hissing and sniffing.
Could they smell her?
Could they smell her fear?
She heard a loud thud somewhere behind them. It must¡¯ve been two train cars down. Were the angels leaving? Had they found someone else to eat? That didn¡¯t matter.
They moved slowly. Carefully. Continuing their sideways shuffling. One step to the side before the other foot slid over. The movement made her hips ache. Her hamstrings tightened. Her ribs were ready to pop out of their cage. But bit by bit, they made their way.
The angels must not know the two of them were off the train. Maybe they didn¡¯t understand. Or maybe the thick, disgusting stench of the tunnel, the pallid hot air, was masking them. As long as Nancy and the boy remained quiet, they could go. They could slip away unnoticed!
Her back and hips ached from their awkward movements. Her lungs burned. But they got to the front of the train car again, right below the conductor¡¯s window, and the tunnel opened ahead of them. They could face forward again and move...
She held her breath, too afraid to step out from their little compact space between the train and the tunnel wall. It was claustrophobic, but at least it was safe. The empty space ahead looked daunting. It was hardly visible, and the darkness opened like an enormous mouth. The tracks led to nothing.
But with every passing moment, every bead of sweat dripping down her back, she knew her phone was running out of battery. They were down to one phone now. They had to keep going.
She reached for Amir¡¯s hand, wincing as she tapped the tunnel wall twice before finding Amir¡¯s sleeve. Then, pulling him with her, she stepped out into the open space and sped away from the train without looking over her shoulder. She was careful to step between each of the tracks so that there would be no tapping sounds against the metal, and she hobbled as quickly as she could, forcing Amir to keep up.
His breaths came quick and shallow, and he was half running, but adrenaline pumped through Nancy¡¯s limbs. Her exhaustion and pain faded to a dull throbbing. They were going to make it. They were going to be just fine.
A short while later, after they¡¯d put five or so minutes of distance between themselves and the train, she heard a hiss that sent a chill shooting down her spine.
Her hope fell apart, and she froze. Amir bumped into her leg. This hiss was coming from up ahead.
Then there was another. And another. And Nancy pulled her phone out from her coat pocket, careful to cover the flashlight so as to not give away their position. She shook her pepper spray gently, trying to measure how much was left.
Not enough. There wasn¡¯t enough. Amir clung close to her, and she dragged him along, holding her breath as the hissing sounds grew louder, as another sound became terribly clear.
Chewing. Chewing and tearing and swallowing.
A dim, eerie glow came into view. She¡¯d hoped the station would be more brightly lit, but it must¡¯ve lost power too. The rock face of the tunnel walls gave away to cold, white tiles. A strip of green tiles ran along the center stating the station¡¯s name in big, bold letters. 57th Street, Lexington Avenue. Her phone vibrated, and she almost dropped it. Her eyes went wide. Her heart pounded in her ears as she realized she had a connection again.
She tapped on the screen, struggling to unlock it as the notification bar kept popping up.
Where are you???
Are you okay?
Nancy!
Nancy pick up
What ix going on:?
There were dozens like that from Henry. But then, the worst notification, and it flashed by so quickly she wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d seen it: Ollie¡¯s at the hospital. Heading there right now.
The trains are stuck. The mta¡¯s not updting shit.
Nancy!
We¡¯re at Mnhattan hope fgeneral
NAncy, please respond
They wn''t let me insde
There were endless miss calls from Henry, from coworkers and friends and family, from numbers she didn¡¯t recognize. But tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision, and the light and colors on the screen blurred into a meaningless blob.
She blinked them away. I can¡¯t cry yet. I have to get out of here. Oliver¡¯s safe. And Jenny... Jenny. Where¡¯s Jenny?
Trying to recompose herself, she lowered her phone, ignoring the vibrations and the oncoming notifications, ignoring the desperate need to call Oliver¡¯s number and then Jenny¡¯s and then Henry¡¯s. She stepped forward.
As the station came into view, she spotted an angel on the tracks ahead. It was on all fours, feeding on someone. Two more angels were on the station platform.
Blood dripped steadily onto the tracks, but Nancy eyed the little service stairwell on the side. They¡¯d have to climb that, cross the station platform, and get through the turnstiles. Then they could bolt up the main stairs to the surface. She could almost feel the sunlight on her skin. The lungful of fresh, clean air. Then she could respond to her messages. Then she could call her husband and her children. And she could help Amir find his family.
They were so close.
So close that it ached. She took Amir¡¯s hand and whispered, ¡°We¡¯re gonna run for the stairs.¡±
He nodded, looking determined. If only he had his phone, she thought.
She swallowed hard and went up the steps, counting each one to keep her mind focused. One... two... three... at twelve, as soon as her feet were on the platform, she shouted, ¡°Hey!¡±
The angels whipped their heads around, most of them on all fours, the whites of their eyes focused on her. They bared their stained teeth and hissed, all attention on her. Perfect.
She raised her phone, bringing the flashlight up, shining it right into all those bony, blood-covered faces.
The result was immediate shrieking. Hissing and screeching echoed all around as the angels scrambled to get away. Nancy led Amir up the stairs, picking up her pace, keeping her light pointed forward. Two of the angels ran up the tracks, to the safety of the darkness ahead. The other went for the turnstiles, spilling over it and onto the other side.
She swore silently; it was blocking off their exit. Its thin limbs flailed as it ran headfirst into the metro card kiosk with a loud crack. It scrambled away on all fours, clawing at its face, nearly tripping as it bounded over several bodies before hitting the stairwell. A shout came from above, a human shout.
Three shots rang out, nearly in unison, sounding like claps of thunder, and the angel screamed. Nancy dropped down and pulled Amir against her, holding him tight until her ears stopped ringing. She glanced behind her, making sure nothing was sneaking up on them, then glanced at the angel that tried to go up the stairs.
It lay on the steps, a bullet hole in its forehead and another in its shoulder, oozing blood.
Hope, warmer and more powerful than before, filled Nancy¡¯s chest as she stood up, still holding Amir. Adrenaline surged through her legs as she ran for the stairwell. She could already hear hissing echoing in the tunnel behind her. But that didn¡¯t matter. There were people up there. People with weapons. They were safe.
Amir shouted something she couldn¡¯t fully hear. She ran as fast as her legs could go. She stepped over the bleeding angel and looked up at the long flight of stairs, at the top where sunlight was leaking through the entrance, when another shot rang out.
¡°Hold your fire! Hold your fire! She¡¯s a civilian!¡± roared a voice. Everything blurred and echoed around her. The light dimmed. Shadows darted around her. She turned instinctively to the side, trying to shield Amir with her body.
Nancy felt like she¡¯d been punched in the thigh. Amir cried out, and she fell to her knees, still holding Amir. Something hot and wet ran down her leg.
I¡¯ve been shot...
I¡¯ve been shot!
Something grabbed her foot and yanked. Nancy let Amir go as her chin and elbows bounced on several steps. She screamed, trying to grab onto something, as the pain in her leg felt like something was ripping her in half. Amir reached down and grabbed her arm, and she screamed at him to run.
The shadows from above swarmed closer and closer. Blue uniforms. Frightened faces. Flashlights. More shots rang out. Like cannon fire echoing in the stairwell. The static of walkie-talkies rang through her head like electricity. Crackling voices. Urgent call outs.
Whatever had grabbed her foot let go. Screeching and hissing and shouting erupted at the foot of the stairwell; she couldn¡¯t tell what was human or what was angel, but she grabbed the collar of the nearest officer as they tried to help her.
¡°Manhattan Hope,¡± choked Nancy. Her vision faltered. Her ears throbbed from the loud shots. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was screaming or whispering. She wasn''t sure if her leg was still attached. ¡°My son... take me to him right now.¡±
74. Cracks in the salt
¡°Place your hand on the pillar,¡± called Yeshua from somewhere behind Jenny. He was keeping his distance. Not much, but there was enough space between them to make her worry. What was he expecting would happen?
She stared at the pillar. It was dark and glassy, its edges and faces sculpted to encase a body. She wondered who was inside. Were they an adult? A teenager? Old and wrinkled? It didn¡¯t really matter. Whoever was inside would register as ¡°Death¡± and they¡¯d be terrified, their guts twisting out of them, attached to the pillar.
What was she even supposed to do? Yeshua had noted her Severed Spirit, and she¡¯d tried explaining that all it did was turn off pain. Well... she¡¯d fumbled the explanation as she hadn¡¯t completely understood what it did, only that she didn¡¯t feel anything. And that she stopped being a normal human. And that no matter how much damage to her body, she could keep moving, keep fighting. It was just a monstrous defense mechanism.
Except she was already a desecrated human. What would the ability do now?
¡°You¡¯ll understand once you try it,¡± was all Yeshua had said. ¡°Push the usage outward. Beyond yourself. Sever something other than yourself and let¡¯s see what happens.¡± He was so determined, she couldn¡¯t even snap at him. There was an almost childlike hope in his eyes, and the wrinkles around them, the smiling wrinkles... she¡¯d almost forgotten the emaciated man who¡¯d begged her to kill him on the cross. He stepped away and motioned for her to approach a pillar as several more burst out of the ground.
She got the sense that Yeshua enjoyed teaching. He¡¯d rather watch people try things than tell them outright. Like how he¡¯d told her to attempt making food with the system instead of simply explaining.
That way, you can¡¯t deny what happens.
It¡¯s a trick.
Jenny clenched her jaws and shut her eyes. Her thoughts were spinning and spinning, and fear flickered between her lungs like a breath of cold air. Her palms were sweating; she didn¡¯t want to touch the pillar.
But that was all she had to do. She didn¡¯t need to use light or fire; she didn¡¯t have to see what was inside. It would just be like touching a rock. She inhaled deeply through her nose as Yeshua called encouragingly to her. Again, she wondered why he was so far away. Why not come and watch? This was his idea after all.
Is he afraid of something?
Is this a trap? Why am I listening to him anyway?
He promised to help me find Susan.
Jenny raised her hand, her arm trembling. She stared at the cracked blue scales covering her forearm and shoulders. Chipped and dirty, patches of pale skin poking through. She reached for the pillar.
¡°You have to use both hands!¡± called Yeshua. ¡°Place both hands on either side of the pillar and cast yourself out of your body.¡±
She dropped her arm and looked back at him. ¡°If you know so much about this, why can¡¯t you do it yourself?
¡°My healing ability, my Eema¡¯s gift, while powerful, cannot do what you can. But I promise you. You can do this.¡±
¡°Why are you so far away then?¡±
¡°Death is a scary thing!¡± he called back.
Is he... is he making a joke at a time like this? Jenny bit her lip and turned to face the pillar again. Another one burst out to her left like a swiftly growing tree made of dark rock. Just get it over with.
She stepped forward and brought both hands to the pillar¡¯s sides. It almost felt like she was touching someone¡¯s face, cupping their warm cheeks. She tried to picture Susan. Her blue hair and her soft smile, but all she saw was Susan¡¯s corpse lying lifeless on the cafeteria floor. Jenny recoiled and stepped back.
Her hands shook as she stared at her fingers. They tingled with warmth; the pillars had that strange warmth that made them feel alive.
¡°You¡¯re doing great,¡± said Yeshua.
She knew he was trying to be helpful, but his words were not helping in the slightest. Fear unfurled in her belly. She couldn¡¯t shake the memories of looking inside the pillars, using her light, and seeing the Deaths. She couldn¡¯t get Susan¡¯s body out of her head. But she¡¯d felt something when she touched the pillar. She was sure of it. Trying to tune out all her thoughts and Yeshua¡¯s voice, Jenny tried again.
She placed her hands on the pillar again, this time determined to hold on and try what Yeshua wanted her to try. Her armored foot slid back so she could brace herself. Salt crunched between the toes of her bare foot, but she tightened her core and held onto the pillar. She shut her eyes and concentrated.
This time, she didn¡¯t picture Susan. Instead, Jenny visualized the person inside the pillar. How they must feel. Alone, trapped and miserable. Feeling completely stuck with no chance of anything better.
Jenny knew those feelings all too well. ¡°I¡¯ll help you,¡± she promised softly. ¡°I don¡¯t know how, but I will.¡± She leaned forward and rested her forehead against the pillar. She wasn¡¯t sure if that was instinct or some subconscious thing she wanted to do, but she relaxed. Warmth radiated through her, and she sucked in another deep breath before reaching for the skill she never wanted to use again.
Last time, she¡¯d snapped. She¡¯d completely lost control of herself. Something had burst open inside her and taken over and all she could do was surrender to blood lust. Would that happen again?
No, she assured herself. Not this time. It was just like with Yeshua¡¯s foot. How she¡¯d gotten the Blooded status again. How she¡¯d love the taste of flesh. She was desecrated and didn¡¯t have an exoskeleton. She didn¡¯t have those tentacles. She didn¡¯t have to lose control. Didn''t have to be a monster.
It won¡¯t happen again.
This time... this time...
She remembered Yeshua¡¯s words. To focus outwards. Project her Severed Spirit outwards. But how?
How?
For a long time, maybe it was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours and hours, Jenny kept her forehead against the pillar, her hands on its sides. Her palms and fingertips hurt from how hard she was gripping it. And then it came to her. How to do it. How to use it. How to set the Death inside free.
Severed spirit, she thought with a quiet sigh. Her focus shifted to the tactile senses of pressing against the pillar, the warmth of it.
Out of my body, she repeated under her breath. Out of my body. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
It started as a tingling sensation, as though she¡¯d been sitting on her hands for too long and they¡¯d fallen asleep. She didn¡¯t make a sound. She maintained contact, maintained focus. An ache formed between her eyebrows, like someone was trying to shove something sharp into her skull.
Then it spread. She was cracking. Her face was cracking open, and she was terrified of what would come out. But she inhaled deeply and tried to maintain composure. Yeshua said something, but the sensation was overbearing. Her brain felt like a wet towel being wrung out. Her mind twisted. She got the horrible sense she was cutting something ancient. Something sacred. But it was an easy movement. It was something natural. Something that longed to be separated. Something that was never meant to be stuck.
And then the sensation spilled outward. Her knees almost buckled. The sensation came out of her, flowing into the pillar, and bright light blossomed inside it. She could see the light through her eyelids, but she didn¡¯t dare open her eyes. Didn¡¯t dare lose concentration. Whatever this was, it felt fragile and delicate. If she stopped focusing for even the slightest moment, it would reverse and shatter her instead.
Severed Spirit: (tier 2)
System Warning: Severed Spirit (tier 2) is a restricted skill.
(Guidance System Error)
Existential Error
Existential Error
Severed Spirit (tier 2): Sever the metaphysical bonds -
Existential Error
Natural Order Corruption
A shudder went down her spine so violently, she almost collapsed. A whimper struggled in her throat. Her thoughts filled with a series of notifications, but she¡¯d had something like this before. Back when she¡¯d lost herself. Back when she¡¯d become Desecrated. Back when she¡¯d...
CRACK!
It sounded like a tree splintering. Like the earth splitting open. But it brought her back to focus. The notifications faded away. Her breathing came quicker, shallower. Her heart pounded in her chest as sweat trailed down the sides of her temples. Then she felt warmth, a strange, jubilant warmth concentrating right above her eyes.
Her forehead was pressed against something warm. It wasn¡¯t as hard as the pillar, but there was a fleshy kind of firmness... she knew without looking that it was someone else¡¯s forehead, except it was too hot. It was burning hot. Did they have a fever? Did she have a fever?
The pillar cracked and fell away from her hands. After another series of cracks and the sounds of falling debris, Jenny opened her eyes to find the pillar had opened. Half a person stuck out of it, their lower body was still encompassed by the dark rock, but their intestines no longer stuck out. They were whole. Jenny¡¯s forehead was pressed against theirs, and she looked them in the eyes.
Death (level 0)
It was a girl. Older than Jenny and with dark brown skin, her eyes swam with tears. Her lips quivered as though she so badly wanted to speak. Their noses touched, and Jenny blushed, stepping back as the rest of the pillar fell away from the girl¡¯s hips.
Jenny¡¯s forehead throbbed. Her nose stung. Her fingers and arms ached as though she¡¯d been hanging from a pull-up bar for too long. The girl stood in the crumbling pillar, breathing hard, not even trying to cover her nudity. She raised her tear-stricken face to the dark sky and let out a wail before sinking to the ground.
She grasped a fistful of salt, the powdery salt that had once encased her in a pillar, and slumped forward. Her long hair hid her face as her bare shoulders shook. As she clutched her stomach and cried.
In a hoarse voice, a voice that sounded so torn and pained, the girl whispered, ¡°Thank you,¡± before breaking down into loud, gut-wrenching sobs.
Yeshua bounded toward her. He kicked away a few large chunks that remained of the pillar, disintegrating them with each blow. Then he knelt beside her, placing a hand on her head. He shook his other hand free of his sleeve and held out an exposed forearm, the same way he''d offered his flesh to Jenny before. ¡°Eat,¡± he whispered in a gentle voice. ¡°Eat and you shall be free once more.¡±
The girl looked up, tears streaming down her face. Her bottom lip wobbled as she clutched Yeshua¡¯s arm with both hands. She glanced at him again, as if asking permission, and when he nodded, she sank her teeth into his flesh as though she was biting into a corn cob.
Jenny turned away, hugging herself. She was shaking too, the urge to cry simmering beneath the surface of her thoughts. She didn¡¯t want to just cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to wail and lash out and destroy everything around her, but tears didn¡¯t escape her eyes. She bit down on her lip.
Something felt wrong inside her. Or did it feel right? She couldn¡¯t tell. Something had changed when she used Severed Spirit like that. All those notifications... The skill had even reached a new tier. She¡¯d gotten... stronger? Was this strength? And what had she severed? What was it that she felt between the pillar and the girl inside, the Death who was now level 1? To sever metaphysical bonds.
Jenny pulled up her stats, trying to see if anything had changed:
Jenny Huang
Desecrated Human (level 30) (existential error)
(blooded) (awaiting metamorphosis)
Age: 6,802 days
stats:
Power: 30
Stamina: 25
Durability: 20
Agility: 25
Stat points available: 62
Energy available: 4706
Bloodlust Ecstasy
Energy Cores (2)
Nothing. It was the same except now she had the Blooded detail. She hadn¡¯t changed at all. She was still a Desecrated Human.
But she¡¯d hoped. A small part of her had hoped that this would¡¯ve reversed what she¡¯d become, and as she struggled with that hope, there was a flash of golden light behind her.
She turned back to find Yeshua helping the girl to her feet. She wore a purple robe of her own now, and her brown face seemed to shine with warmth. A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her lips, but she either didn¡¯t notice or she didn¡¯t care. She was smiling. ¡°Thank you, Mother.¡±
¡°I¡¯m not your...¡±
¡°She means your title,¡± said Yeshua gently, placing a hand on Jenny¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You are the new Mary. And notice now you are not speaking the language of light.¡±
Jenny was about to respond to the Mary thing, but she sputtered. She licked the back of her teeth. She touched her throat. He was right. She hadn¡¯t been hissing. Neither did Yeshua or the girl. But what language was this?
¡°This is the Language of Death,¡± explained Yeshua. ¡°As the angels have their language, so do the Deaths, born into this world a blessing.¡±
¡°What are they?¡± asked Jenny, cutting him off. ¡°What is she?¡± She almost apologized for being so blunt when the death looked up, but the girl bowed her head.
¡°I am Death,¡± she said.
¡°I know that,¡± said Jenny, trying to remain patient and not snap at the girl who¡¯d been trapped inside a pillar for an eternity. ¡°But...¡±
¡°Perhaps I can shed some light on that,¡± said Yeshua. ¡°What is it that people, our people from our world, fear the most?¡±
Jenny bit her lip. How was he answering her question with another question? She watched the girl move around. She was trying out her legs. Swirling her purple robes and then hopping in place. Jenny rubbed her forehead. ¡°I guess people are afraid to die. They¡¯re afraid of death.¡±
¡°Very much so,¡± said Yeshua. ¡°And what is the promise of faith? Of obedience?¡±
¡°That...¡± Memories of Sunday school flooded her mind again. ¡°That we will be rewarded with an eternal life. Paradise.¡±
¡°Exactly,¡± he said, an intensity shining through his voice as he raised a finger to highlight his words. ¡°Eternal life. That is the false promise made to those who believe His will. But do you know what I say to that? Folly. Folly upon those who accept such foolishness as an antidote to their fear. And what do they fear? Death is not something to fear. Death is a part of who we are. Why are our people taught to fear themselves?¡±
Jenny stared. Her mother would hate this guy. Everyone at her parent¡¯s church would hate this guy.
Yeshua was about to speak again, but light drew both of their attention. The girl knelt by a shorter pillar. She pressed her brown hands to its sides and pressed her forehead against the pillar, just as Jenny had done earlier. And the salt began to glow.
The salt brightened the same way her arm did when she used Valescent Light. Streams of reds and yellows, vibrant greens and purples seemed to shiver through the pillar and then there was another loud crack. A series of cracks, and with the light, Jenny could see inside the pillar, could see the little boy whose intestines curled back into his body. As the salt crumbled away, as the skin across his belly healed, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the girl¡¯s, and started to sob loudly.
Jenny shuddered as the girl hugged the boy. She remembered how hot the girl¡¯s skin had been. Was the boy just as warm? Were all the Deaths this warm? For some reason, she thought they should¡¯ve been ice cold, like the ghosts she¡¯d always hear about in stories.
"Humans are beings of three parts, Jenny," said Yeshua, rolling up his sleeves. "Our Vessels, which contain our beings in material form. Our Deaths, through them we return to the source. And our Souls."
"Souls?"
"Our Souls," he said, walking over to the boy. "Our expression of self. What makes us people. That is what they''ve stolen from us. And that is what we must fight to reclaim."
75. Enhanced Armor
As Deaths awoke other Deaths, golden light blossomed around Jenny, brightening the gloomy world. Tendrils of colors, bright reds, vivid blues, yellows and purples and greens, and every color in between, unfurled from each pillar and reached toward the sky. The pillars crumbled and fell away, and, one by one, Deaths stumbled out from their containment, crying and shouting and needing to be consoled. Jenny couldn¡¯t keep watching. Her mind spun with what Yeshua said about Deaths and Souls, and the light made her heart ache.
Why? She didn¡¯t really know. Why did she want to cry? Why did she want to scream? She thought it might¡¯ve been because she¡¯d used Severed Spirit again, but this felt deeper. A primal urge to claw her emotions out of her chest and... was it the light? Was the light making her feel like this?
It was similar to Valescent Light, but that couldn¡¯t be the reason. There was something else to it. Something that called to every single hurt Jenny had known since she¡¯d been born. It called to the helpless feeling a baby might have, crying and screaming into the unknown, hoping someone would pick it up.
Jenny turned away from the spreading light while Yeshua fed each newborn Death. Her shoulders were trembling, and there was a feeling in her throat she didn¡¯t like. A salty bump she couldn¡¯t swallow.
She decided it would be a good opportunity to finally go over her stats and apply her waiting points. Why she¡¯d been procrastinating on them, she didn¡¯t know. But she supposed she¡¯d always been like that. Playing games on hard mode. Playing life on nightmare. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Saving up potions or points or whatever, so that by the time she got to the final bosses, she¡¯d have way too many things and nothing to really show for it. Even Eve had called her out for it.
She¡¯d gone through her entire life with a voice snarling in the back of her mind: Why try? Look at you. Why try?
And now that voice had a face. It was her own. A monstrous, ugly face that only wanted to consume, consume, consume, and she swore she wouldn¡¯t let that come out again. She¡¯d been afraid of that happening, losing control and¡. But she¡¯d eaten the foot. She¡¯d used Severed Spirit. She¡¯d set free a Death.
Why was she able to do that anyway? The Death had woken another pillar. And then each Death went on to wake up another. How were they doing it? They couldn¡¯t also be using Severed Spirit, could they? Or was there some similarity between Severed Spirit and something that came naturally to Deaths? Or was it because she¡¯d been so close to death herself?
Let¡¯s not go there.
Focus on the numbers.
She had 62 points waiting.
62.
That number seemed way too high, but she¡¯d leveled up several times, and she¡¯d ranked up. Or at least¡. She should¡¯ve been human stage iii. What would the notifications have looked like if she¡¯d reached that level without severed spirit? Things would¡¯ve been clearer. Easier. Jenny sighed.
15 into each stat. That seemed like the most even way to split everything. That gave her 2 remaining points that she could use later. This time, remembering how it felt when she¡¯d added a large number of stat points, she braced herself for the changes.
Jenny Huang
Desecrated Human (level 30) (existential error)
(blooded) (awaiting metamorphosis)
Age: 6,802 days
stats:
Power: 45
Stamina: 40
Durability: 35
Agility: 40
Stat points available: 2
Energy available: 4706
Bloodlust Ecstasy
Energy Cores (2)
Her muscles flexed; her entire body clenched. A tingling sensation shot up from her fingers to her elbows as though she¡¯d hit her funny bone, and warmth blossomed across her back. What felt like a cramp ignited in her sides, and she cried out softly. But then her toes readjusted on the salty ground. Her stance shifted slightly, and she stood taller. This wasn¡¯t the dizzying, intense reaction she¡¯d experienced before when increasing her stats.
As quickly as it had started, the tenseness faded away, and she exhaled. Maybe she¡¯d gotten used to it. Or maybe the changes would be more subtle now. She placed her hand on her stomach, feeling the taut firmness of her abs. Then, after taking several deep breaths, she opened her eyes to find the world even brighter than before. It felt like the sun was rising behind her. Golden light made the dark barren expanse seem much less imposing, and her shadow stretched far ahead. It was strange seeing her shadow, and all the light behind her, the darkness ahead, it finally hit her that she was in another world. She wasn¡¯t on earth.
She rubbed her face. Her armor responded almost instinctively. The dirty blue scales rolled away from her knuckles and her wrists, revealing her dirty hands. Salt and dried liquid and blood stuck to her skin, but she didn¡¯t care. They shimmered in the golden and colorful light. She let the armor peel away further, exposing her pale forearms and her elbows. Ever since she¡¯d had an exoskeleton, it felt like she had better control over the things she made. All she had to do was picture it, and it happened.
Looking down at her arms, brushing aside the bits of dead armor ¨C and it was dead, she realized, remembering how the armor was organic. The parts that had been cracked and broken by the Ghouls died on their own, losing their blue luster and feeling like crumbling autumn leaves She peeled the armor off to admire the outline of her muscles. Her forearms, her biceps, even the way her arm moved in her shoulder socket felt so strange. She remembered nearly failing gym one term because her class was doing weight training and she couldn¡¯t do a single pull-up. Her gym teacher had been so disappointed. Jenny shook her head, balling her fingers into a fist and staring at the way her tendons moved.
She didn¡¯t feel much of a size difference, but she was definitely stronger. Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched out her arms and rolled her head from side to side. She straightened her shoulders back and focused on her breath. Away from the hell of the high school and the nonstop chase by the angels, she could appreciate how her body had changed. Had she ever felt this good? Had she ever felt so capable? When she took a step, everything just felt right. Like she could be more purposeful. Like she could do anything.
Her skin was tougher. Her flesh firmer. Her body felt light and free. Maybe if I¡¯d been this strong earlier, everything would¡¯ve ended differently.
Maybe if I¡¯d just listened to Eve and¡
And what? Killed the other kids? Got more experience by hunting other people? Like Miriam?
No¡
Groaning, she rubbed her face. Her breathing had quickened; her head was hurting. Something felt wrong inside of her, but she didn¡¯t know what. It started when she¡¯d used Severed Spirit while fighting Miriam. When she¡¯d lost control. She¡¯d felt it the entire time, hadn¡¯t she? That urge to kill. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Kill. Kill. Kill.
A shudder twisted its way up her spine, and Jenny tried to shift her thoughts. She had to make new armor. She¡¯d been hesitant to address the system this entire time. To use her stats and her Energy. They felt ill-gotten. Like she¡¯d stolen them or done something worse. But Yeshua pushed her to try making food, and the memory of that made her want to wretch again.
But she couldn¡¯t keep wallowing in the despair. She couldn¡¯t keep feeling sorry for herself. If the Ghouls attacked again, or whenever something attacked again, she didn¡¯t want to be caught off guard again.
Enhanced Armor will cost 1500 Energy. A full body armor that mitigates impacts and is resistant to pressure.
¡°Sounds good,¡± she whispered as more sobbing and crying erupted in the distance behind her. How many Deaths were they going to set free? And there must be millions¡ billions of Deaths. Could Yeshua even feed them all?
Golden light of her own shimmered around her limbs. It sparkled and shone, enveloping her torso and her chest, spiraling down each of her legs. The crumbling blue and gray armor dissolved away, and light danced across her pale skin. She glanced down to see she hardly recognized her body.
She couldn¡¯t see her ribs anymore. Her legs weren¡¯t thin and fragile-looking. Her shoulder felt wider, her hips looked wider, and her muscles glistened with strength.
It made her head spin to see herself like this. She had the body of a movie star or a model; it felt unreal. How many times did she promise herself she¡¯d eat better? Cut down on the chips and chocolate. Go for more walks. Work out. She¡¯d been saving all that for when she moved out on her own, when she got to university. There, away from the suffocation of her home life, she¡¯d be able to progress. That was what she¡¯d told herself.
If there was any good that came from this whole nightmare, at least she¡¯d finally gotten into better shape. The light hardened, flashing with green light before turning blue. And this was a darker shade of blue than before. Red mixed into the color, and Jenny wondered about her Exoskeleton. It was still there. When she focused on her belly button, she could just about feel a strange tickle as though it was just waiting to burst out.
Activate Exoskeleton?
The notification made her want to spit. No.
She pushed the thought away and continued forming her armor, imagining it firmly in her mind, bringing it to life. How the red would go beneath the blue armor, giving it an almost purple look. How the scales would be smaller but layered, the entire armor streamlined.
And another memory surfaced. Why Eve had found her in the first place ¨C how Jenny created half a minor potion to heal Susan¡¯s leg when she didn¡¯t have enough Energy for a full potion. Eve said that had been remarkable, bending the system to her will, but she hadn¡¯t really done anything like that since. Unless¡ unless she counted Severed Spirit. That skill had triggered such a bizarre response from the system after all.
Natural Order Corruption.
But she didn¡¯t feel as though this was something special or even unique. If the system could create anything that could be imagined, then why couldn¡¯t anyone imagine half of anything? Why couldn¡¯t they create any kind of skill or ability?
Or was it just that most people didn¡¯t bother trying?
Blue scales spread across her skin, covering nearly her entire body. It came up to her throat and the bottom of her jaws. It reached her ears and went up the back of her neck. It came down to her fingertips and her toes, fitting snugly around her legs and between her thighs. It hugged her waist and ribs tightly. The armor almost felt like a layer of thermals, except it was dense. Dense and solid, and it reminded her of that desecrated angel¡¯s exoskeleton. That bluish metallic thing that she¡¯d had to break through before she could hurt the angel.
When the light dimmed, Jenny turned to see a small crowd of people gathering. Well, her first instinct was to think they were people, but their notifications, and each one was the same, Death (Level 0), gave them away.
Looking at them now didn¡¯t give her that frightening, run away feeling anymore, but it was still odd. Some of the Deaths were on the ground naked, crying and sobbing. Others held them as Yeshua went around offering his arm as sustenance. He created purple robes for them to wear, and he went from Death to Death, reminding Jenny of a hummingbird flitting in a flower garden.
But something about him felt off. He didn¡¯t bound across the ground anymore. He was limping. Jenny took a few steps closer, aware of the clearing they¡¯d made in the pillars, aware that more pillars were rising around them, but something about Yeshua was wrong. And when she got close enough, she saw what it was.
Yeshua was shrinking. He was losing weight, deteriorating with each Death that he helped. His face was gaunt again. His eyes had sunken in and bags weighed down on his cheeks. But he smiled when he noticed her.
¡°I like the new look. It suits you.¡± He sounded breathless.
Jenny nodded, feeling a tiny bit bashful. The new armor was darker, more conforming to her body. This one had been designed with less emotion and more tact. It hugged her muscles tightly and made her feel like a spy in a big-budget movie and the new color was sleek. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, but she was more concerned about him. ¡°Are you okay?¡±
¡°Me?¡± He wicked back his sweaty hair. ¡°I am exactly where I want to be, and this is all thanks to you, Jenny. For freeing me. For freeing death. Existence owes you a debt it cannot repay with a thousand worlds. I should very much like to see the look on Azra¡¯il¡¯s face when he realizes what has happened.¡±
¡°Azra¡¡¯il?¡± The name sounded evil to Jenny, like it was something she ought to know, and a weird creepy sensation crawled along her sides. It was the same feeling she¡¯d get when looking at skeletons; disturbed.
¡°Azra¡¯il is the Archangel in charge of the Afterlife,¡± said Yeshua, his lips curling. ¡°He is the reason Death has been sequestered to these pillars of salt. He rips Souls as they pass from the Material World to the Garden, ensuring that the cycle of our lives can never reach completion.¡±
Jenny¡¯s head was hurting again, and fear laced her every heartbeat. The archangel of death? There was an angel assigned to death? And something about the way Yeshua spoke of him made her think that this Azra¡¯il was powerful. ¡°Is he like... Is he what comes after a Desecrated Angel?¡±
¡°No,¡± said Yeshua, shaking his head. A Death came up to him, a young girl, and pulled on his robe. He smiled kindly at her, lowering his shaking hand to pat her head. ¡°He¡¯s much worse. The tarnished are angels are distortions of their true selves. True angels cannot advance in stages like you or I through trial and triumph. They are light. They are not meant to grow. So, what do they do?¡±
Jenny didn¡¯t need him to explain. She knew by the sick feeling in her gut. ¡°They eat people.¡±
¡°They eat people,¡± he repeated solemnly. The young girl Death dashed away, her purple robe billowing. ¡°But this way, they can maintain control over their minds. They can harness the ability of their light and the Energy of the worlds and¡¡± Yeshua slumped, teetering like he was about to collapse, and Jenny dashed forward. She placed her hand on his chest to catch him.
He even seemed shorter now. Only a bit taller than Jenny. He looked ill. Jenny tried to steady him as she glanced at the Deaths. A crowd of them, maybe thirty or forty people, stared at Yeshua with concern on their faces. There was a cost to this. That was why they¡¯d stopped. Yeshua couldn¡¯t go on feeding them forever without rest. His healing ability wasn¡¯t free. How had he fed so many already?
Jenny helped sit Yeshua down before conjuring a bottle of water. He blinked at it, his eye twitching, and she realized he¡¯d probably never seen plastic before. What did they use to carry water back in his day? Did that really matter now?
¡°Drink,¡± she said, mimicking how he¡¯d commanded her to eat before.
He smiled gratefully, the wrinkles around his eyes so deep, the expression looked like it hurt. Then he drank deeply, the bottle crinkling in his grip, and Jenny took the pause to ask the question burning a hole in her mind.
¡°Will I find Susan¡¯s Death here?¡±
Yeshua lowered the bottle, water dribbling into his beard. He nodded as he swallowed. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°She has died so her Death is here somewhere. But her Death will not recognize you.¡±
Her heart sank at his words. ¡°So, I have to find her Soul?¡±
¡°Her Soul houses all her memories,¡± he said. Once he¡¯d finished the water, he remained seated, taking in a deep breath. Color returned to his skin, but he still looked hungry. Weakened.
Should she¡ should I offer a bit of my arm? Would that help?
¡°Azra¡¯il is the one collecting the Souls. We must find¡¡± He trailed off. Before Jenny could ask what was wrong, his eyes went wide, and he grabbed her arm. The bottle fell to the ground. ¡°They¡¯re coming.¡±
¡°What?¡±
¡°Again! They¡¯re coming again!¡± He snapped his head toward the Deaths as he used Jenny to pull himself up. ¡°Nobody move! Don¡¯t move one bit. Just stand still! Just stay right there and they won¡¯t harm you. Let them come to me. I will¡¡± His voice broke.
He turned to grab Jenny, dropping his voice to a horrible whisper. ¡°I can¡¯t protect them all like this.¡± Saliva flicked out with his words. He looked crazed. Upset. He wasn¡¯t blinking at all, and redness spread across his eyes. A sob had snuck into his voice.
He sounded the way he had when she¡¯d first met him on the cross. When he¡¯d begged her to kill him. And she knew what was coming. The Ghouls.
Jenny swallowed hard. She glanced at the Deaths who were exchanging frightened glances. There were too many of them. Some of them old. Some of them just kids. One even was a toddler, held in the arms of the first Death that Jenny had freed. They looked helpless. And all of them were level 0. They wouldn¡¯t be able to fight.
The ground began to bubble. It was frothing and rolling, like an angry ocean on a stormy day. There must be more than before. Everywhere around her, the white liquid seeped out, and it would be a matter of moments before those bubble-shaped heads emerged, those empty eye sockets, and the high-pitched voices.
She shook Yeshua. He was still holding onto her, his fingers curled tight around her armored arms. ¡°Can¡¯t you frighten them off again?¡± she asked. ¡°Can¡¯t you just¡ drink them?¡±
He shook his head. He was trembling. But he released her arms as the liquid bubbled around both of their feet. He pointed toward the sky with one finger.
Jenny looked up and her hopes sank. The clouds were bubbling too, almost mirroring what was happening on the ground. But instead of white liquid, this was red. Dark red. The sky bubbles ballooned and expanded and burst. Then it began to fall as rain.
The Deaths cried out, and Yeshua splashed through the bubbling white liquid, churning pink as the rain grew heavier. And this rain wasn¡¯t anything at all like rain. It wasn¡¯t water.
It was hot and sticky. There was a thick metallic stench to it, and Jenny knew what it was with each heavy breath she took, each beat of her heart. It was blood.
It was raining blood.
76. Its Raining Blood
The blood was hot and sticky, and the downpour was relentless. Thick globs of it soaked through Jenny¡¯s hair. It ran down her face and new armor in ribbons. Every breath she took was stained with its heavy metallic stench, and she felt like she was drowning.
It coated her lungs, her insides, and she felt the blood with every pulse of her heart. Shielding her face with one hand, she tried to blink it out of her eyes. To keep it from dripping down her face. She really wanted to swallow; she could tell just by the scent, by the aroma, that the blood was delicious. That it would hit better than any meal, any drink. She wanted to stick out her tongue and catch every single drop. She wanted to cup her hands and gather a mouthful and slurp it all up and-
Unable to resist, she stuck her tongue out and lapped up what it could off the sides of her mouth. The flavors, rich and savory, coated her tongue, and she felt a wave of dizziness as her body adjusted. No new notification came up. Nothing changed. Of course it wouldn¡¯t; she was already Blooded.
The ghouls hadn¡¯t come out of the ground yet, but everything was bubbling. It felt like they were taking their time, or maybe the blood was making them thicker, heavier... She splashed through some of the liquid, blinking over and over to clear her eye lashes, too aware of the blood dribbling down her back and down her arms. Yeshua was urging the Deaths to gather.
¡°Stay close!¡± he shouted. ¡°Stay near to me. I will protect you.¡± He was gesturing wildly with his arms, like he was trying to herd a flock of sheep, and the Deaths, all their faces frightened and covered in blood, did as he instructed. But as the rain grew thicker, as the blood fell heavier and wetter, it grew increasingly difficult to see.
Jenny fashioned new head gear, dark blue to match her new armor. It covered her hair and the sides of her head ¨C blood dribbled down behind her ears and she suppressed a shudder. She¡¯d included a raised visor to keep the blood out of her eyes. To keep the blood from filling up her nose with every breath. And it was just in time.
Hands reached out from the frothing liquid. Arms stretched upward and out, fingers curling as though the Ghouls were in agony, as though they were drowning in their own substance. A rounded head emerged amidst all that, the two eye holes filling with vapor, filling with blood, and one by one, more heads appeared. They looked like pinkish-reddish flotation devices bobbing on the sea; their limbs could¡¯ve been pool floaties.
But there was something wrong with them. Something different. The first head that appeared was the first ghoul to fully form. On all fours it rose from the bubbling water, blood streaming down its entire body, staining its once white coloring. This creature wasn¡¯t like the ghouls she¡¯d fought before; it was as red as the blood, darkening with every drop of rain.
Blooded Ghoul (NULL)
Blooded? It didn¡¯t cry out. It didn¡¯t call for its father. It didn¡¯t say anything. All it did was groan, moaning and mumbling incoherently ¨C if it was trying to communicate, Jenny couldn¡¯t understand what it was saying over the drumming pitter-patter of blood splattering her armor, splattering the ghouls¡¯ heads and shoulders, and running into their empty eye sockets. Several of them turned their heads upward with their oversized mouths open, even as they struggled to fully emerge. Their teeth glistening as their throats collected blood.
Steam swirled out of their eyes. She hoped they would collapse the way the ghouls who¡¯d eaten from Yeshua¡¯s body had fallen to the ground, becoming pink puddles that drained away. But more and more crawled out of the bubbling puddles. More Blooded Ghouls stretched their limbs and turned their empty eye sockets toward her.
This was going to be a fight. Messier and uglier than before. The first ghoul opened its mouth to reveal two rows of stained teeth. Blood ran down its chin. She half expected it to say something, to call out for its father again, but it scrambled toward her. It batted away reaching arms and legs, kicked its fellow ghouls; it was coming straight for her.
Her hatchet flashed to her hand. More and more Ghouls climbed out of the frothing liquid, and now it felt like she was wading through a flood that came halfway up to her ankles. The first ghoul stumbled, reaching for her, eyes swirling with steam that trailed behind it. Jenny sliced through its elbow with one swing. There was a muted flash of light that made all the rain drops around them glisten, that made the ghoul¡¯s grotesque face shine for a quick second.
+64 Energy
It didn¡¯t burst into liquid. Instead, there was a crack and the arm splintered like wood. And this time, she got Energy from the attack. She was causing pain. The ghoul slipped, clutching its arm and howling, howling so loudly that Jenny wanted to cover her ears. But she was already stepping back, sloshing through the liquids, trying to keep out of reach of the other hands climbing out of the ground.
A wild thrill flickered up to her throat. This was what was missing during her first encounter with these creatures. With a renewed wild frenzy, she struck over and over as more ghouls got to their feet and came after her.
+64 Energy
+64 Energy
+64 Energy
Were there more ghouls this time? She couldn¡¯t tell. Their bodies glistened like shiny red plastic, and in the blood rain, she could hardly keep track. Each of their faces looked the same. Hollowed out eyes. Large mouths filled with blood. Their moans and whimpers swirled around her as she struck. But this wasn¡¯t like before at all. She¡¯d rested. She¡¯d eaten. And she¡¯d invested her stat points. She wasn¡¯t going to be on the defensive this time.
But too many bodies crowded between her and Yeshua and the Deaths. And no matter how many she struck down, more Ghouls kept coming. All the while, the relentless rain pummeled her with blood, making her feel sticky and bogged down. It thickened the air in her lungs, her breath burning with the metallic aftertaste of blood. But the scent egged her on; she wanted more.
The ghouls shrieked like banshees every time she struck them down. They didn¡¯t die, but they¡¯d clatter to the ground, clutching their wounds and wriggling and screaming. She¡¯d wince if they were too close to her ears, but even then, their sounds of agony felt justified. Rage thrummed through her limbs. Rage at how they¡¯d feasted on Yeshua for who knew how long. Rage at what the Deaths had felt trapped in their pillars. Rage at herself. Rage at the worlds. Rage at everyone and everything.
This was almost therapeutic, beating down on the Blooded Ghouls without a care. Their bodies didn¡¯t have bones or flesh or veins. If there was any more liquid coming out of them, it was meaningless in the rain. And they didn¡¯t even die. It didn¡¯t matter if she slit their throats or left a deep gash in their faces or lobbed off their arms. They didn¡¯t die. Most of the injured fell to the ground, others stood helplessly in the swarm, crying like children lost in a crowd before another ghoul knocked them over. It was pathetic. And all the while, she harvested their pain through her Hatchet. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
+64 Energy
+64 Energy
+64 Energy
She punched one in the face, her armor covered knuckles making a satisfying thwack as the ghouls¡¯ face caved in. It collapsed to its knees, fingers digging into its new orifice, and Jenny spun to attack the next ghoul with her hatchet. This was almost too easy, she thought. Was she really that strong?
As far as she could tell, the only difference between the Ghouls and the Blooded Ghouls seemed to be their dark red color and that they no longer burst into liquid when struck. But how was that an improvement? Now they writhed in pain and felt pain. She¡¯d been afraid they¡¯d advanced to a more powerful form, how the angels had gone from tarnished to wretched to desecrated. So, what was this? But the more she fought, as the ghouls closed in and bumped into her shoulders and arms and back, as they threatened to suffocate her, she realized what the issue was.
Before, she could strike down several of them with a Savage Throw or Instant Acceleration and make space. But now she had to be even more careful when she dodged. The ground was cluttered with fallen bodies shrieking and wriggling. If she fell, the ghouls would pile on and she¡¯d never get back up.
Hands grasped her shoulders. Red fingers curled, and she felt a few of her scales crackle, but the new enhanced design held up a lot better than her previous armor, and the blood rain made her slick and wet. She slipped out of their grip and shoved her hatchet into a ghoul¡¯s chest. It fell away with a gasp, the steam swirling violently in its eye sockets.
Another ghoul¡¯s fingers curled around her leg, and she fought the urge to kick it off. An elbow struck her in the back. Hands grabbed at her helmet, trying to yank it off. It forced her head back and blood rained down on her face. Jenny used Ignite.
Flames roared to life from head to toe, boiling the blood dribbling down her armor and scorching the ghouls who¡¯d grabbed her. She seized the opportunity, flipping her hatchet as she turned, striking them down in a wide crescent, each one lighting up with a brief flash of light. She shook her leg free, a hand still curled around her calf. She¡¯d cut the arm off.
Jenny was stronger now. Their grips weren''t as painful or effective, and with her increased power, each strike cut through the ghouls with ease. And each strike gave her more Energy, and slowly she found her rhythm, slashing off their arms or their heads, letting their bodies topple to the ground. She stomped on them like she was crushing red pots of clay. She whirled around, slashing and shoving, swiping arms that reached for her when she didn¡¯t have an easy swing, punching faces or throats.
Screams and groans assaulted her ears, but her enhanced armor, her tougher body, took their attacks like they were nothing. In the frenzy, she¡¯d almost forgotten her plan to fight toward Yeshua and the Deaths, but then a powerful gust blew away the ghouls swarming her. They rolled by, arms and legs flailing like they¡¯d been sucked up by a tornado. The rain curved and flicked around Jenny, swept away in the same direction, a brief break from the downpour before the blood came pouring down again.
Red lightning ignited in the sky, illuminating the rain and the boiling clouds, and Jenny saw Yeshua standing in front of the deaths, his soaked robes billowing, his hair stuck to his face as blood ran down his forehead and cheeks.
But he also stood behind the Deaths as well as at their sides. Seven or eight of him in total, all wearing the same purple robes, all hunched and looking exhausted, but he¡¯d formed a perimeter around the Deaths as they huddled in a compact circle.
Each Yeshua punched and kicked the ghouls that swarmed them, but when their hands and feet made contact with a ghoul, the creature completely disintegrated into a fine red mist, and the impact blew away the surrounding ghouls.
He must have an ability that let him duplicate himself. Jenny rushed toward them with Instant Acceleration, taking advantage of the momentary cleared space to catch her breath. She caught up to the crowd of Deaths, blood dribbling down all their frightened faces and soaking into their robes. They all looked almost as red as the ghouls.
¡°This won¡¯t end,¡± said the Yeshua bodies in unison, his voice echoing and booming all around. ¡°They will come endlessly. They are the world responding to change.¡±
Jenny held her breath, trying to ease her heartrate and watched as the ghouls struggled to get past the many Yeshua. He struck them over and over, using his fists to generate enough wind to disintegrate the closest creatures and push back the rest.
The younger deaths were sobbing as the older ones tried to console them. But the rest of them were crying too, frightened and meek, and Jenny didn¡¯t know what to do. She remembered Yeshua warning that he couldn¡¯t protect them all, and judging by how weakened he looked, how the ghouls kept coming despite how afraid they¡¯d been earlier, she wasn¡¯t sure how long this would hold out. As she prepared to jump back into the fight, one ghoul slipped past a Yeshua to her left.
Its red limbs flailed as it leaped toward the Deaths, teeth gnashing, empty eyes swirling with vapor trailing behind its head. Jenny turned on her heels and ran toward it, pushing through the crowd of Deaths. The ghoul had grabbed the little girl death, the one that came up to Yeshua before. It was holding her in the air as she kicked and cried, as rain battered her face.
The closest Yeshua turned, his face strained, teeth bared. But several ghouls grabbed him by the neck and shoulders and brought him to the ground. Neither he or Jenny were going to make it in time, but then the girl squirmed out of the ghoul¡¯s grip.
How? Jenny barely registered what just happened. Was it just because of the rain? Did that let the girl slip away? The ghoul scrambled before grabbing her again, this time pinning her to the ground as it bared its teeth, ready to take a bite from her shoulder. But that was enough time for Jenny to catch up, and she didn¡¯t bother slowing down. At full speed, she kicked the ghoul in the face.
The tip of her armored foot connected with one of its eye sockets. There was a hideous crack, and the top of its head flew off as though she¡¯d just popped the lid off a jar.
Its body fell limp to the ground as the girl wriggled out and ran into the arms of one of the other deaths. Jenny turned, tossing her hatchet with Savage Throw to strike down the angel chewing off Yeshua¡¯s nose.
But more ghouls broke through the line of defense, and despite Yeshua¡¯s multitudinous cry telling them to stand still, the crowd of Deaths scattered. They ran in every direction, and in the frenzy, in the bloody downpour and the ghouls swarming, everything became a mess of red limbs and screaming. Shouts and cries erupted all around her, and she knew neither she or Yeshua could attack with ease. They¡¯d risk hitting a Death.
Red lightning surged and Jenny used the flat side of her hatchet, parrying blows and trying to knock creatures away from her. She saw Yeshua¡¯s splitting, each one separating into three or four more Yeshua, but the new ones looked even thinner and weaker. Strained. They were being overrun, and in every direction, there were only more ghouls, more blood-colored mannequins moaning and whimpering and scrambling over each other. And the screaming!
Shrill screams of agony that she knew were the deaths. She found the girl, the first death that Jenny had freed, lying on the ground, wriggling and shrieking as three ghouls feasted on her arms and legs, splattering blood and flesh. With a scream of rage, Jenny lodged her hatchet into their heads. She beheaded one. She snapped through another¡¯s skulls. She kicked one off the girl.
But before she could help the death up, several more ghouls grabbed at Jenny. Fingers curled around her wrist. Hands latched onto her sides. Something struck the back of her head so hard she saw sparks.
What did they want?
What did they get out of eating the deaths? Could the deaths even die?
What do I do? Ignite? Savage Throw? Instant Acceleration?
Valescent Light?
That¡¯s it!
She elbowed a ghoul in the face and struck down another. She pushed a Death, an old man, to the side and struck down the ghoul that had nearly gotten him. Her mind spun, trying to connect thoughts as she evaded ghouls and blinked blood out of her eyelashes.
She could open another portal. She could get everyone out of here. But how? And where would they go? She didn¡¯t know how she¡¯d opened it last time. She¡¯d just made use of what was already there.
How did I do it?
An arm grabbed her shoulder, and this grip felt too firm, too powerful, and she swore out loud, twisting her body to attack, afraid her arm would pop out of her shoulder. But it was one of the Yeshua. He¡¯d had the same idea as her. He shouted in the chaos, blood dripping down his face and beard, ¡°Open a passage! Open a passageway to the World of Demons. We can lead these abominations right to Hell!¡±
77. Opening
Before she could register Yeshua¡¯s words, a hand smashed into her face. Jenny couldn¡¯t tell if it was a ghoul or another Yeshua or a Death, but fingernails scratched her lips, scraped her teeth, and she reacted. Her hatchet swung, and the hand was separated from whomever it belonged to.
She stumbled back, yanking the hand out of her mouth, unable to tell if it was bleeding in all this terrible rain.
+64 Energy
It was red all the way through and felt like plastic. It was a Ghoul¡¯s. She hadn¡¯t hurt one of the deaths, but her momentary relief was cut short. Another ghoul rammed her side, clawing at her scales. Two more ghouls grabbed her shoulders and tried to pull her down, but she turned her heel, grounding herself firmly, swearing loudly as she tried to shake them off. Her joints ached from their grips, but she wrapped an arm around one¡¯s head, its jaws snapping against the armor that protected her armpit, and she struck another in the eyes with her hatchet.
But more hands grabbed onto her legs and her waist. Blood rain splattered over everything, and the ghouls¡¯ whimpering and moaning were making it too hard to think. With a cry of rage, she used Ignite again.
Fire burst out of her shoulders almost like two wings unfurling. The ghouls cowered, the sudden brightness shocking their systems. Every single drop of blood around them glistened tantalizingly, hissing as they struck Jenny¡¯s burning body and evaporated.
The ghouls recovered almost immediately, swiping at her face, but the split second was all she needed. She swept around quickly. Slashing through each ghoul before sidestepping their collapsing bodies. They fell to the ground screaming and clutching their wounds, and Jenny twisted her arm, snapping the head off the ghoul she had in a headlock.
As she moved away from them, she expanded her helmet, stretching the metal forward to shield the front of her face, leaving only a slit for her to see through. This limited her visibility, but it was better than having her mouth ripped open. Her lip bled from where it¡¯d been scratched, and she licked at her own blood. It tasted sweeter than the blood rain.
The Yeshua¡¯s shouted around her, and a thunderous burst of wind blew past, knocking away the rain and an entire group of ghouls and deaths alike. Jenny managed to stay on her feet, but she could tell this blow was weaker than his earlier attacks. He was worried about hurting the deaths; they couldn¡¯t fight like this.
¡°You must hurry!¡± shouted the Yeshua in unison. Two of him wrestled with ghouls. Another Yeshua was twitching on the ground, crying out in agony as ghouls snapped off his limbs and one chewed a hole through his side. And still another Yeshua was helping one of the deaths up.
She didn¡¯t know who to help. The deaths were in the same situation, being eaten alive. Teeth gnashed. The ghouls moaned and whimpered and ate, and the deaths screamed and cried out helplessly. Jenny kicked ghouls in the ribs. She slammed her hatchet down on their heads like she was splitting firewood. She elbowed and punched and roared flame, but it didn¡¯t matter. For every ghoul she disabled, two or three more took their place.
What had Yeshua said? This was the world responding to change?
Jenny started this. This was her fault. She¡¯d set Yeshua free. She¡¯d awakened the first death. And now all of these poor people... a ghoul tore the head off one of the younger deaths, swallowing it whole. Jenny screamed, using Instant Acceleration to burst through the crowd. She punched the ghoul so hard, the scales covering her knuckles cracked, and it spat out the head. It rolled across the ground, spraying blood as the ghoul collapsed.
She grabbed the death¡¯s headless body, shaking. This one was just a kid. A little boy. But even as she held the body, a warm light seeped out of the gruesome neck and solidified into a new head. A new face with clear skin and pretty hair and big brown eyes. The boy blinked at her for a moment, then the rain splattered his face, and Jenny couldn¡¯t tell if the kid was crying or not. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was crying or not.
Two more ghouls leaped toward them, and Jenny thrust the boy away as hard as she could. Another ghoul struck her in the face with its arm, its hand rattling her helmet. More grabbed her, and they piled on top, wriggling, teeth scraping against her scales, palms striking her helmet and her back over and over.
She twisted carefully to avoid dislocating her shoulder or her leg, then swiped to the side, burying her hatchet in one ghoul¡¯s hip. Another leaped right onto her head, knocking her forward and down, her face smashing into a bloody puddle.
With a muffled scream, she tried to crawl out of the wriggling pile. She couldn¡¯t help but swallow blood. Blood ran down her face and dripped from her helmet. She slammed her hatchet into the ground, trying to will herself to get out. Trying to focus on Ignite again, but that was when it came to her.
Back in the high school, that eye shaped pool of darkness, like a wound in the cafeteria floor. That was the opening that allowed the angels to come through, and she and everyone else had only been able to get back because of... because of Susan¡¯s light. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
The healing! The light had healed the opening between worlds, and that was what Jenny had done later. When she¡¯d wanted to leave. She¡¯d reopened it with light. But for her to use Valescent Light like that... there needed to be a wound in the first place. A tear between worlds.
Her heart pounding, aware of all the horror around her, Jenny stopped struggling. She tried to relax. A foot struck her helmet and smashed her face into the puddle again. Teeth and fists and screaming pummeled her as blood rained down on everything. She touched her fingers to the ground. Concentrate.
Both hands, even as fingers curled around her forearms, even as the ghouls tried to pry off her helmet. She touched the ground the same way she¡¯d done with the pillars, and she realized that Yeshua had also been showing her how to do exactly this. It had to be beyond her body. Something outside of her. Severed Spirit.
Immediately, the ground responded. She felt it open. Felt something shift. And a horrible feeling coiled around her stomach and squeezed tight.
Then it kicked. Like a baby kicking inside of her. It spurted out of her bellybutton. Her exoskeleton.
A scream tore through her throat, gurgling in the blood she¡¯d swallowed. The armor on her back cracked and split. Her six tentacles burst out of her flesh and -
You are overjoyed. You are reborn. You are alive again. The blood! It¡¯s raining delicious, precious blood. You can feast all you want. You don¡¯t have to stop. These creatures can feel pain and you can harvest every last drop of Energy.
Look how powerful you can be. Look how powerful you are.
You don¡¯t have to be alone anymore.
Your tentacles whirl about, soaking in the rain, slapping the ghouls into dust with a single blow. They are nothing creatures. Empty. Hollow. Your tentacles crush them. Curl around them and fling them into the air like dolls.
They¡¯re not on top of you anymore.
You can get up.
You can feast.
Yeshua has already offered his flesh. The Deaths don¡¯t die either. They grow back. You can eat all you want. How delicious will they be? Your mouth is already watering. Your stomach is already grumbling. All you have to do is -
With a violent shudder, Jenny snapped out of it, breathing hard. Everything was dulled. Everything had slowed down. She was lying in the puddle of blood as it bubbled and churned, but the bubbles burst in slow motion, and the rain was gentle. The ghouls moved in slowly, running toward her. People were screaming. Shouting. But their voices were faint and far away. Her vision felt faded like she¡¯d just woken up.
She was lying on the ground, but her arms, stretched out above her head, were covered in red. It was her exoskeleton, covering her belly and her sides, coming up to her jaw. It was growing over her armor, but it hadn¡¯t grown completely. It hadn¡¯t covered her completely. And her tentacles.
She could feel the precise location of every drop of rain falling from the sky, soaking into the ground, dripping down the bodies around her. Her tentacles ingested as much blood as they could, but she forced her attention away, down to her chest, her body. To her hands and fingers. To where she was touching the ground.
It was almost like instinct. Or like sticking her hand out the window on a freezing day just to feel the biting chill of the wind while the rest of her was safe and warm inside. Focus. Breathe. Swallow.
I want to leave this place.
I want to take the deaths away from here.
I want to save them.
She pictured Susan again. It wasn¡¯t like last time when she¡¯d thought of Susan and lost focus while trying to sever the death from the pillar. This time it was memory. This time it was longing, as though Susan was her guiding force. As though the hurt of what Jenny had done could push her forward.
Open me up!
Cut me open!
Get it the fuck out of me!
A silent scream blossomed inside Jenny. Rising, slowly and slowly, as everything around her shifted into motion again. Her tentacles swirled. The ghouls grabbed and tore at the deaths. Yeshua struck blow after blow. All the while the blood rained down on everyone and everything.
She kept her mind on Susan¡¯s smile. When Susan had still been alive, standing on the darkness in the cafeteria, her arms out stretched to welcome Jenny. She¡¯d run toward Susan. She¡¯d ran right into her arms, the hunger uncontrollable, the need beyond any urgency she¡¯d ever had before. Jenny felt Susan¡¯s throat between her teeth. The squish. The crunch. The burst of flavor, the warmth she¡¯d always wanted.
She saw Susan¡¯s corpse. Her lifeless eyes. And the hurt. The heart wrenching, rib shattering hurt that made her want to bury her fingers in her bellybutton and claw herself completely open so that all that pain, all that self-hatred and disgust and hurt could burst out of her and break free, shoot from her fingertips into the fabric of the world itself. And everything ripped open beneath her.
It felt like she¡¯d punctured something. Darkness gushed out from the ground, swallowing the bubbling liquid and the rain; it was the same horrid darkness she¡¯d found on the cafeteria floor where the angels had surfaced from. The many Yeshua yelled something. The ghouls screeched in unison like a thousand fingernails scraping her ears, and the darkness tugged on Jenny. It tugged on her exoskeleton, drawing out more of her monstrous side.
You must give in to yourself.
You must break free.
You must-
Jenny knew what to do next. How to make it work. She kept her mind on Susan. Kept her focus on how she felt. Hurt. Regret. Love.
Want. Need. Hope.
I¡¯m going to find you.
Golden light surged from her hands. Colors, all the colors of the rainbow, flowed into the light like ink bleeding into a page, and warmth radiated from her hand. All the darkness shimmered away, turning golden and colorful, illuminating the world just as the deaths had done before as they¡¯d woken each other up, just as Susan had done when she and Jenny had left their survival challenge.
Jenny stared into the blinding light, tears streaming from her eyes as she sank like a stone. A sea of golden light welcomed her. Streams of color, swirls of glistening reds and threads of vibrant greens curled around her limbs like tentacles or underwater plants, tangling her, pulling her further into the depths, and Jenny relaxed all her muscles. She let go. She surrendered to the light and felt all the others, the many Yeshua, the deaths, and the ghouls, sinking in with her.
Where am I going?
78. Seeking through the light
Her breathing eased. The aches from the ghouls¡¯ attacks faded away and, when she blinked, tears bubbled off her cheeks alongside the blood from the rain. Her sweat, the salty dirt of the world, all of it was washed away. In a few moments, her enhanced armor, which had several cracks and many scales missing, was clean. The light cleansed and healed her, but it did nothing for the hurt that filled her heart to bursting.
The front of her body was covered by her red exoskeleton ¨Cher chest, her arms, her navel, and most of her thighs. Rough and uneven, it jutted out in every direction like a strange rock formation. It hadn¡¯t even settled completely. She''d stopped it before the gelatinous substance could completely spread, but it covered her arms up to her wrists. A bit of it even covered the underside of her jaw.
As she sank through the light, she touched the covering on her chest. The sensation shuddered through her; it was like touching the salt pillars, like touching someone else. A strange warmth. A misshaped hardness. At least the exoskeleton hadn¡¯t completely taken over her face, and it hadn¡¯t made it all the way around to her back ¨C she tried to tell herself she hadn¡¯t reverted back to her monstrous form, but she could feel the tentacles swirling behind her.
She turned to look at them over her shoulder. They¡¯d grown. They were thicker and fleshier than before, partially covered with the dark blue of her enhanced armor like a thin layer of fish scales.
All sorts of colors swirled around them. Greens and oranges, purples and pinks, silvers. They formed floating rings that spiraling along the length of each tentacle before dissipating and fading away and coming back. Jenny turned slowly as she sank through the thick golden light to see hundreds of bodies trailing behind her. It reminded her of a school trip to the aquarium. The dark, underground room that had a glass ceiling. She remembered looking up at the beautiful sea creatures and plants above, wishing they could all be free. Wishing they weren¡¯t trapped in a glass cage for people to come see. How was that fair?
The blooded ghouls looked like red mannequins. They clutched their heads, wriggling and struggling as though they had piercing headaches. No color reached out to them. No swirls of color enveloped them. And no sound escaped them; she couldn¡¯t hear their moaning or screeching.
The deaths fell almost gracefully, their arms spread wide, their torn robes fluttering in the light as purple and pink streams curled around their waists and limbs. Enveloped in oranges and yellows. Some of them held hands. And to Jenny, they looked more like the angels she¡¯d always grownup reading about and picturing whenever she prayed ¨C they looked perfectly at ease in the passageway.
And then there were the Yeshua. All of them had their eyes closed. Their beards and long hair drifting, their robes billowing. Every one of him seemed like they were resting, and all signs of damage were gone, healed away by the light. He was still emaciated. Too thin, too tired looking. But just like with the ghouls, no colors encircled Yeshua. She wondered if that had to do with him being NULL too.
Where am I supposed to go? she wanted to ask him, but when Jenny opened her mouth, air bubbled out, melting into the golden light. Panic didn¡¯t strike her. She didn¡¯t need to breathe. This was the air she¡¯d held in her lungs. Spittle floated away from her lips. Spittle and blood, and she let go of whatever bit of stale air she had left.
Her mind emptied. She tried to concentrate on the colors, on the light. She turned away from the falling bodies, maneuvering with her arms. She caught sight of her hatchet floating nearby, and she swam toward it. Once she had it in her hands, she held it to her exoskeleton covered chest, her tentacles reaching in every direction, trying to sense, trying to make sense of things.
She was leading the others. Taking them somewhere. Yeshua had mentioned the World of Demons. He¡¯d called it Hell. But she hadn¡¯t been thinking about that when she opened the passageway. All she¡¯d wanted to do was open it. But now that it was open, how was she supposed to decide where to go?
Think.
How did I get to the world of death?
By wanting it. By wanting to find Susan. She didn¡¯t know of deaths and souls or anything like that; she¡¯d only wanted to find Susan. She¡¯d focused on the thought of death, and the light had guided her through it.
She shut her eyes, trying to ignore the pressing worry of what happened when she used Severed Spirit. When that voice took over.
Was it a voice?
Or was it her true self?
She¡¯d felt so separated from her body. Like she¡¯d been watching herself through a movie screening, like she¡¯d been feeling everything through a story she was reading. Like she wasn¡¯t real.
Doesn¡¯t matter.
Find the Demons. The world of Demons.
Find Hell.
Then Jenny felt it. A gentle push, like the light was pushing against her. Like feeling a breeze nudging her from behind. Something pushed against her, pressing her away.
And something else pulled, as though trying to reel her in. It reminded her again of fish, something from biology about how fish had a strip of special organs along their sides. That was how they sensed movement and current around them, and that was how they truly ¡°saw.¡±
She kept her eyes closed, focusing on the pulling and pushing sensation. Guide me. Show me where to go. Please. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
There was a current to the light. No, multiple currents in four distinct directions. Her heart skipped a beat as recognition filled her chest. The biggest pull was toward what felt like a ¡®center¡¯. A core. The sun of a solar system. Her body turned toward it.
This pull felt familiar. It felt right. It was... that was the world she belonged to. Earth. What had Eve called it? The Material World. That was at the center of everything.
From above came a push. It was pushing her down, away from it, deeper into the light. That was the direction she¡¯d come from; that was the world of Death.
If she¡¯d wanted to, she got the sense she could kick, swim or fly upward, and break the surface again, returning to that bloody rain and bringing everyone with her. That wouldn¡¯t do much good. And she couldn¡¯t go to Earth. Something told her it would be a mess to bring Deaths to the material world, a violation of natural order.
Ahead of her was... light. It was cool and misty, and she¡¯d felt this world before too. This one pulled, tugging on her; she¡¯d seen this world when she¡¯d lived through the eyes of that orange covered angel. She remembered the clouds and the shining towers and the flocks of other angels.
There was something dark there. Not just in her memory of the world, but right now. Something horrible and heavy, something she didn¡¯t want to see. Something she didn¡¯t want to be found by. And even if that thing wasn¡¯t there, even if that thing wasn¡¯t trying to invite her, she couldn¡¯t take the Deaths there. She wasn¡¯t sure if there was any land; would they all plummet to their... well, she didn¡¯t know what would happen if the Deaths fell.
Jenny turned away, toward the remaining pushing/pulling sensation. This one was tugging on her tentacles but pushing against her body, like it couldn¡¯t decide what it wanted. It was cold, ice cold, and a shiver spread through her. If she''d had breath, it would¡¯ve taken it away, like she¡¯d been splashed with ice water.
But it felt right somehow. It felt like the world she was looking for. Besides, process of elimination ruled out all the other directions she could go. That left this icy world, and Jenny opened her eyes. She grabbed at the light, fistfuls of it, trying to propel herself and the hundreds she was dragging behind her.
What¡¯ll happen to the ghouls?
She didn¡¯t care. At least in another world, they would have more space to fight. No more blood rain to fuel the blooded ghouls. And no more bubbling liquid for more ghouls to emerge from. Was that what Yeshua had in mind?
Did he know of the other worlds she could¡¯ve gone to?
Why had he been so specific?
The colors responded. The greens and blues faded to pale white and silver, and the golden light shimmered around her, drawing her in. She¡¯d found the current. The pushing sensation gave way to a fearsome tug, sucking her toward it.
She was flowing into it, moving without kicking her legs or flapping her arms, letting the light guide her. She trusted it. She surrendered to it. And this time, the light didn¡¯t just snap shut below her. It parted in front of her, and Jenny stepped through.
When her armored foot touched down on the other side, it crunched on ice. A cold wind blew through the gap in her helmet, and when she exhaled, steam rose from her face.
With a shudder, she stepped into another world. Something inside her relaxed, and her tentacles wriggled violently, swirling as they emerged from the colors and light, snapping back into Jenny¡¯s shoulder blades and spine with a shlurp.
Like a rubber band snapping, she cried out and fell forward onto the snow, a cramp burning a hole in her navel as her exoskeleton retreated beneath her Enhanced Armor. It drained back into her bellybutton, returning back inside her, and she coughed violently, spitting blood as the trembling eased.
Freezing wind blew through the gap in her helmet. Her armor protected her from the worst of it, but the cold seeped right into her bones. As her visioned adjusted to this new world and she blinked away tears from the biting cold, she saw in front of her another empty wasteland. Instead of salt and gloom and blood rain, this one was bright blue and white. Icy snow stretching as far as she could see through the steady gentle snowfall.
It was silent. This world was completely silent, everything muffled by the snow and ice. There were no trees. No rock faces. No pillars. Only the gray white clouds above, the snow, and the ice-covered ground.
Behind her, the opening she¡¯d made hovered in the air. It blurred in and out of focus, a rippling elongated oval. Colors leaked out, tendrils and beams of reds and yellows that surged, as though the opening was spitting them like solar flares. Most of the light evaporated into the world.
Jenny hobbled around the opening, wondering what it looked like from the side or the back. But it didn''t matter how she circled or moved, the gash always looked the same, a wound in the air that she¡¯d healed. Where was everyone else?
She reached for it, willing them to come out, and in response, the passageway pulsed. It shone brighter and brighter, so bright that Jenny had to raise a hand to protect her eyes.
Screams and cries and moans filled the air, and Jenny blinked to find piles of ghouls struggling over one another as frost spread across their red limbs. Their teeth gnashed. Their fingers reached for her. Reached for the Deaths. Their eye sockets wide as though they were shocked. The vapor swirling inside their eyes came to a standstill, and the ghouls froze.
Frozen like ice sculptures dyed red. Frozen in their piles, some half standing, some crawling, most grasping onto other ghouls or deaths.
The deaths¡¯ breaths clouded around their face as they scrambled away from the frozen ghouls. The many Yeshua''s were standing to their feet, shaking off their robes. They snapped frozen limbs off ghouls who¡¯d managed to grab a Yeshua or a death, and Jenny sank to their knees as the rest of them huddled for warmth and safety. Coldness crawled up her spine as she allowed herself to feel the wave of exhaustion and relief. She needed to lie down for a while.
As the passage way closed shut and the golden light faded, one of the Yeshua''s approached her, concern on his strained face. Snowflakes clung to his beard and eyelashes. ¡°Hell has frozen over.¡±
Jenny opened her mouth to respond. To ask if they should go somewhere else; she didn¡¯t know if she could open another passageway so soon. She felt drained. Her heart squeezed empty. But then Yeshua stumbled. All of them at once.
His face twisted in pain, and he clutched his chest. The other Yeshua''s shimmered, disintegrating into lights that beamed toward the Yeshua in front of Jenny. He was breathing hard, his face red. Each light splashed onto him, outlining him brightly before fading, but it didn¡¯t seem to be helping him at all.
¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Jenny stood quickly, reaching for the System, wondering what kind of potion she should create for him. Was he injured? Exhausted? Did he need a bite of her arm?
He shook his head, the artery on his forehead bulging as his eyes turned red. She could see the one on his neck too. ¡°The Cross,¡± he hissed through his teeth. Then his eyes rolled toward the back of his head. He faltered, reaching out with a hand as if trying to grab something for balance, as if hoping Jenny would catch him. But as she rushed toward him, Yeshua disintegrated into vapor.
For a moment, his silhouette lingered, made of misty air. Then he faded away.
Jenny was breathing hard, not sure what to do, staring at the spot where Yeshua had just been. She glanced at the Deaths as though they might know what was going on, but they looked just as frightened as Jenny felt. They were all shivering and crying, rubbing their arms or holding onto each other for warmth. Yeshua was gone.
79. A frozen world
Steam clouded the inside of Jenny¡¯s helmet; she was breathing too quickly. She yanked the thing off and tossed it aside, blinking repeatedly at Yeshua¡¯s footsteps in the snow. Already the steady snowfall was filling them in, erasing them just as Yeshua had disappeared.
¡°Yeshua?¡± she called out, glancing around, half expecting one of his bodies to stand up from the pile of ghouls or emerge from the crowd of deaths. She walked briskly, trying to figure out what had happened, and made her way to the frozen ghouls.
Her heart was pounding. Hundreds of blooded ghouls were covered in a layer of snow spread out as far as she could see. There might¡¯ve been even more, but falling snow limited visibility, and Jenny got the sense she was standing on the edge of a mass grave. There was a solemness, a blanketed quietness as she stared at all the frozen figures who looked too much like people.
Most of them were still on the ground, stuck to one another like victims of a natural disaster. A few had gotten to their knees or a halfway standing position. The ghouls¡¯ red color looked foggy pink.
Some of them looked like they were reaching for her, and she imagined it must¡¯ve been horribly painful to freeze to death. Their empty eye sockets glared, as if accusing her. Was this her fault? Had she messed something up? Was Yeshua dead?
Yeshua had said something about the cross before he¡¯d vanished, and she remembered how he¡¯d dragged that thing across the gloomy world to the pillars. As if he couldn¡¯t go too far without it.
Did that mean he was bound to it by more than just flesh?
She dug her nails into her palms, trying to search her memory. She¡¯d been so focused on opening the passageway, of getting out of that nightmare ¨C she didn¡¯t even think to bring the cross with her. Why hadn¡¯t she noticed?
But how was that her fault? She couldn¡¯t have known.
Yeshua should¡¯ve told her. Or had he tried to? He¡¯d shouted several things, but she couldn¡¯t have understood him in that mess of blood and teeth and desperate hands.
Jenny tried to find the spot in the air where the passageway had hovered. She felt around, turning this way and that, trying to remember where she¡¯d been standing in correlation with the ghouls, but everywhere looked the same. It was snowing, gentle but relentless, already tucking away the footsteps and disturbances in the snow.
The deaths muttered and whispered, and she heard echoes of their questions. Where is he? What is she doing? It¡¯s so cold. I¡¯m hungry. She wanted to tell them to shut up. To be quiet. She needed to think. Gentle trails of steam rose from where the snow landed on their bodies; a little fog gathered around them.
Jenny was breathing hard, voluminous clouds of breath escaping her lips. It was cold. Too cold. And the deaths were huddling for warmth. But she figured they¡¯d be okay for now. When she¡¯d freed the first death, that girl had felt so hot to the touch, like she¡¯d been on fire. They could keep each other safe from the cold; Jenny had to figure out how to help Yeshua.
She couldn¡¯t bear the thought of him stuck in that world again, back in that storm of blood with more and more ghouls crawling out of the ground to feast on him in his weakened state.
Or would he fight better now without any restraints? He wouldn¡¯t have to worry about harming one of the deaths, and he might be able to feed on the ghouls and grow fuller and stronger again. She tried to calm her breathing, reminding herself that he was several magnitudes more powerful than her and that he could handle himself. Panicking wouldn¡¯t help.
But it wasn¡¯t just fear for his sake that was making her head spin. Slowly, she turned to the deaths. There were about thirty or forty of them huddling close together so that they looked like a blob of torn purple cloth and fog. Snow stuck to their hair and melted down their faces. That wasn¡¯t going to help. That would make them feel even colder. What was she supposed to do with them? How could she help them?
She did not want to feed them with her own flesh.
Her teeth started chattering. Her shoulders trembled as the cold seeped through her armor and into her bones.
Okay. I can open the portal again.
Then I can go see what¡¯s happening to Yeshua. Maybe I can bring his cross over too.
Then he can come here and explain things and we can figure out what to do next. How to find the World of Souls. How to help the deaths. How to get to Susan.
Trying to stay calm, she reached out again with one arm, armor peeling back to expose her knuckles and wrist to the cold, as though that might help. As though more sense data could activate what she needed.
She turned slowly in every direction like the needle of a compass trying to find north. Snowflakes tickled her nose. She deepened her breath, taking her time, trying to keep the worrying thoughts at bay. And after a few turns, she felt it. A slight, magnetic tug, and she stepped toward it.
There was a slight gelatinous pressure in the air, like she''d found something gooey and invisible. The air felt thicker. Bumpier. Like a scab. A tremor radiated through her chest. She was feeling the healed wound between worlds. It was similar to how the cafeteria floor had felt after she and Susan had brought the school back, when Jenny was trying to leave. How did it work?
Once a passageway was cut and then healed, would it always be there? Like scar tissue between worlds? Or was this some aspect of Valescent Light that allowed her to open the passageway again without creating another wound?
Sucking in a deep breath of cold air, she activated Valescent light, and a golden aura enveloped her palm and fingers. Colors skipped up to her fingertips to fade away, and a wave of dizziness hit Jenny so hard she stumbled back, losing her balance. The light blinked out of existence.
¡°Gah!¡± she spat, breathing even harder than before. Sweat beaded down the side of her face before the frigid air sent shivers crawling across her body. She leaned forward and grabbed her armored knees, trying to steady herself, spitting onto the snow.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
This was more than exhaustion. More than a lack of stamina. Pressure gathered behind her eyes, and her brain felt wrung out. She remembered the gaunt expression on Susan¡¯s face after using Valescent Light to heal Jenny from the brink of death. How tired Susan had looked. How sunken her eyes had been. A potion couldn¡¯t restore her.
The skill drew on something more than physical exertion, and Jenny had the sneaking suspicion that it had to do with her own death or soul or something. She squeezed her knees, her hair falling forward to cover her face. ¡°Fuck.¡±
She couldn¡¯t use it again. Not now. Not for a while. She had to rest. Like the ability was on cooldown. She slumped to the ground, her knees hitting the snow with a crunch. Her ears were freezing. The tip of her nose was freezing, and she was sure that her snot was turning to ice. Were her lips turning blue?
What the fuck was she supposed to do?
Ignite!
A roar of frustration tore through her throat, and a stream of fire billowed out of her mouth, melting the snow in front of her before she raised her face to scream at the cloud covered sky. Snow hissed and evaporated, and when she snapped her teeth shut, she closed her eyes. The warmth faded as quickly as it had come, sapped away from her face and her insides by the freezing wind of this world.
I¡¯m in hell.
What was it that Yeshua said before? Hell had frozen over? Wasn¡¯t that just an expression? Something people said? So, if this was hell, why was it snowing? Why was the ground frozen? And where are the demons?
We are right here.
Her eyes flew open. ¡°Who said that?¡± she demanded, standing and taking a menacing step toward the deaths. ¡°Did you hear that?¡± It had almost sounded like static. Like a voice crackling over an old timey radio.
They shook their heads, their torn robes fluttering as another breeze swept by. They all looked ragged and cold, and Jenny searched for the first one, the one she¡¯d freed, the brown woman. Her eyes were wide and frightened. She was hugging two of the younger deaths to her, trying to keep them warm.
Your warmth has guided us to you. The voice rattled through her head like a distorted phone call, as though someone was about to lose connection.
¡°Hello?¡± said Jenny in exasperation. She summoned her hatchet back, light flashing as anger burned inside her throat. A tense pressure pounded behind her eyes. ¡°Who¡¯s talking? Where are you?¡± She turned around and around, before snapping at the deaths. ¡°You guys seriously can¡¯t hear anything?¡± She jabbed her hatchet accusingly in their direction, and they all stepped back, blinking at her like she''d gone mad.
She almost apologized, but she couldn¡¯t stop shaking. Something was reading her thoughts. Reading her mind. Something was talking to her from inside her head again.
You are not going mad. We are not speaking to the Dead.
We are speaking to you, strange human.
She clenched her teeth so hard she thought they¡¯d shatter in the cold. She whirled around, scanning the snow for where she¡¯d dropped her helmet, seeing nothing but snowfall and the crowd of deaths and the frozen ghouls. She couldn¡¯t stop shaking, couldn¡¯t stop the boiling hot rage from taking over. She was done with invisible beings talking to her like this. ¡°Who the fuck are you? What do you want?¡±
You are intruding on our home. Perhaps you should answer these questions first.
¡°Okay...¡± The voice was right. She was the one intruding. She didn¡¯t really have a right to make demands. But she still had another question. ¡°Why can¡¯t I see you?¡±
Light shimmered in front of her, over the field of frozen ghouls. Many lights that sparkled and sizzled, ranging in color from red to yellow to blue, like a swarm of bioluminescent insects all buzzing their wings. Jenny stepped back, holding her hatchet defensively with both hands, trying to figure out what was coming. Was this some new monster? Some other creature that would try to eat her? She was so sick and tired of fighting for her life. But if these things were going to attack, why communicate? Why give her any warning? The lights rained down on the ghouls, sparkling and glimmering like shooting stars all concentrated in one area.
When a light splattered onto a ghoul, the body began to glow. The snow melted away from its head and limbs, and with several cracks, the frozen creature¡¯s joints moved, and it returned to life.
Its head turned. Blue flames alighted in its eye sockets, as though someone had just turned on a gas stove, and Jenny gripped her hatchet tight, ready to strike it down. Was this some new form of ghoul? Would it try to eat her too?
This body hungers...
She bit her lip, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. Every instinct in her body told her to attack before the creatures got up. Before they were fully awake.
But it was communicating. It wasn¡¯t a mindless monster. It wasn¡¯t like the angels.
The fist ghoul¡¯s limbs twitched, and it stood, head lolling back, chest protruded forward as its arms swung uselessly. It moved unsteadily on its feet like a puppet held by strings. With a shaking step forward, it righted itself and more blue fire spilled from its eyes, rising upward so that they looked like two flickering horns jutting out of the ghoul¡¯s head. Jenny couldn¡¯t help but stare. In the empty eye sockets sat two balls of flame, like miniature blue stars.
Demon (Vesseled) (stage iv)
Jennys heart sank. The demon was stage iv. It didn¡¯t have a level, but it wasn¡¯t NULL either like Yeshua had been. Cold sweat ran down her back. What did Vesseled mean? Was that referring to the ghoul¡¯s body?
The other ghouls were standing as well. Some with orange flames. Others with red or yellow or white. And they ranged from stage i to stage iii, but there weren''t any other stage iv¡¯s or anything higher. None of the others had blue flames.
Within moments, there was a small crowd of them. Their heads lolled like they were too heavy for their shoulders, but the one in the lead, the only one with burning blue eyes, took another shaking step toward Jenny. Its head swerved back before falling forward, chin bumping its chest as its arms waved back and forth, trying to find its balance.
Her body twitched, ready to run away, ready to fight, but unable to decide. Were they a threat? The ghouls already had cartoonish features, with those bulbous heads and thin limbs, but as the demons stumbled around, struggling to right themselves, she wasn¡¯t sure how to respond.
Their eyes burned brilliantly, and the bloody red sheen of the ghouls¡¯ bodies faded away, returning back to white so that they blended in with their surroundings. If it wasn¡¯t for their fiery eyes, Jenny would''ve lost track of them.
What are you? Asked the first demon, its mouth opening and closing, teeth clacking in a repetitive pattern, like watching a low budget animation where the audio and the lips were out of sync. The voice was still inside her head.
Was the demon moving its mouth to pretend it was talking? Or was it imitating her? She took a step back, trying not to appear afraid. Trying to stay calm. She glanced back at the deaths then back at the demons as more frozen ghouls came to life, their eye sockets filling with flames. A strange sense of panic clung to her limbs, and more snow continued to fall.
Was this going to be another fight?
If they were limited to their ghoul bodies, then all she had to do was strike them down. ¡°I¡¯m human.¡±
A strange human. The demon¡¯s mouth opened and closed again as it spoke. Snowflakes touched down and melted all over its bulbous head, sizzling and evaporating where it reached the blue flames of the demon¡¯s eyes. We seek your light. You have a gift.
¡°My light?¡± asked Jenny. Other ghouls shook themselves free of the ice and stood with burning eyes. There could''ve been a hundred o them by now, standing behind the demon with blue eyes, gathering like an army rising out of the snow. ¡°What do you want with my light?¡±
It seemed to be glaring at her, the blue flames growing larger and larger. Then its teeth clacked. Its static voice flitted between her ears. Restitution.
80. A warm body
¡°Restitution?¡± she whispered. She got the sense it wanted something from her.
We require more bodies, said the demon. It took another shaky step toward her, foot sliding on the frozen ground. Snow blew into its flames and evaporated. Droplets ran down the sides of its oversized ghoul head, glistening. It almost looked like a Jack-o''-lantern, except instead of a pumpkin, it was made out of snow.
Jenny glanced at the fields worth of frozen ghouls. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got plenty of ghouls to pick from. So how about you leave us alone?¡± She chewed on the inside of her lip, blinking snowflakes from her eyes.
The demon didn¡¯t waver. We require more.
¡°What? How¡¯s that not enough?¡±
We number in billions. It cocked its head as if to size her up, the flames seemingly turning as it did so.
She shivered. She told herself that it was due to the cold, but when the demon took another step, she stumbled back. Jenny hadn¡¯t meant to; she didn¡¯t want to appear weak or frightened. But she couldn¡¯t help it. She knew what the demon wanted. What they would want.
Your body is so warm, it said, mouth clacking open and shot. And the many behind you... so warm. They will suffer in this world without our flames.
¡°Suffer?¡± she repeated. She swallowed hard. ¡°You¡¯re just going to possess us, aren¡¯t you?¡± Shit. Shit. Shit. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what to say or do. She couldn¡¯t open another passageway again. Not yet at least. She¡¯d have to fight them.
Could she eve fight them?
You cannot defeat us in battle, said the demon, straightening its head. You cannot escape. There is nowhere to run. Submit and your bodies will be of use. Your bodies will be relinquished when we are restored.
¡°No!¡± shouted Jenny, throwing her hatchet as hard as she could in the freezing cold. Savage Throw.
It whistled through the snow and struck the demon on its bulbous ghoul head with a thwack, snapping its head back. The long, white arms flailed like the creature was trying to find its balance. But then it slid on its heel and landed on the ice with a hard thud.
Did that... get it? Her lips stung from the cold, she balled up her fists, willing her armor to grow back over her fingers and cover them. It didn¡¯t help much, but at least the wind wasn¡¯t directly hitting her skin. She only wished she could go back and fetch her helmet.
Flames still flickered from the ghoul¡¯s eyes, and there was no notification of having defeated a creature or of Energy gained. She hadn¡¯t hurt it. The other demons, nearly two dozen of them, stepped forward in unison.
Their eyes burned in various shades. Two of them were red, they were stage i. She wasn¡¯t afraid of them in the least, but some were yellow and white, stage ii and stage iii, and flames flickered all over their ghoul bodies like they were charging up for an attack.
But before they could make their move, the first demon¡¯s arm shot up in the air, fingers stretched out. Refrain from attack! We require her light.
Jenny grimaced as the demon got to its feet, her hatchet¡¯s handle sticking out from between its burning eyes like a bizarre unicorn horn. With a flash of light, she summoned it back, wishing the ghoul body would just disintegrate from the blow.
There was an ugly gash on its head, cracks stretching away from the point of impact. But it was glowing... it was liquid. It looked like glowing blue liquid that flowed thickly inside the creature like gelatinous blood.
I will retrieve her light.
Its blue flames pulses, growing larger and larger with every flicker, and Jenny couldn¡¯t help but remember the bright blue light emanating from the Desecrated Angel she¡¯d fought nearly to the death. She thought back to the blue of Susan''s armor. Of Susan''s hair. The blue of the sky on a sunny day. Then the flames went out. As though the demon had been a strange candle and someone had blown it out.
The ghoul, now free, stumbled forward, shivering, its mouth opened wide as it tried to stand. A scream formed at the base of its throat, but even as it straightened up, frost spread across its limbs, and the creature froze. The ugly crack no longer filled by blue light.
Before Jenny could respond ¨C she wanted to hack the ghoul into tiny bits so that the demon couldn¡¯t get back inside, she saw the sparkling, hovering array of lights again. Shimmering like little blue stars, they rose over the frozen ghoul before shooting toward her. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
She swung her hatchet. The edge sliced through the air, doing absolutely nothing to the sparkling lights that zipped past her weapon. For a second, she saw the brightness up close, a flash of blue dots, the ghost of an outline, like a blueprint of what almost appeared to be a person. The silhouette of a hand reached for her, and then it struck her in the face.
The force knocked her onto her back, and she could feel the demon. A wriggling crawling sensation burned into her face, as though the light was climbing up her nose or burrowing into her pores or dissolving into her eyes.
Wait, wait, wait!
She wanted to shout, but she could only think the words. Her body wouldn¡¯t respond. Panic surged through her limbs, but she couldn¡¯t even curl a finger. No matter what she tried to move, all she got was a tingling feeling, like pins and needles when her foot would fall asleep. It spread through her chest and up into her brain.
A choked breath slipped out of her throat as her lungs relinquished control to the demon. And then, as though someone had plugged a cable in, a jolt of electricity shot through her. She swore it flashed between every wrinkle of her brain and that she could see it. She could see the demon.
A demon! It was humanoid with long arms, but instead of flesh, it was made of rippling blue flames that curled and billowed inward and upward. Burning wings spread from its back; this was a creature of fire.
Get out, she whispered silently. A tear slipped out the corner of one eye, trailing down her face. Her body remained still on the ground, unmoving; she wasn¡¯t even blinking. She stared up at the clouds as snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes, as they landed on the fluid of her eyeballs. Snow tickled her nose and her lips, and the coldness of the ground threatened to consume her.
Her eyes burned. Her lungs burned. She needed to blink. She needed to inhale. She needed to swallow the saliva pooling at the back of her throat. I¡¯m going to drown! Her body was shutting down; did the demon want her to die? If it was possessing her, then shouldn¡¯t it be doing all these things?
Blink!
Swallow!
Scream!
Then realization struck her: the demon wasn¡¯t in control.
It couldn¡¯t completely take over; all it had done was block her off. It couldn¡¯t operate her body.
Surrender! it cried, its silhouette emerging in her thoughts again. Flames curled upward over its head. Its eyes were two bright dots of light. Its face was a mask of fury.
Jenny almost laughed. She wasn¡¯t sure where they were; it seemed like some strange space inside her head. A dreamscape? Her imagination?
She felt disconnected from her body. From the world. From the pain.
I¡¯m dying. She could see that through her open eyes, could feel it through her aching limbs. Her body was dying. She was sick of dying.
You are not human, said the demon, its form flickering, its voice bursting with static. She could feel its rage, as though she¡¯d done the demon dirty, tricked it somehow.
I guess not, thought Jenny, wanting to berate the demon further. We¡¯re both going to die in here. But then she realized what had happened. Why the demon couldn¡¯t take complete control.
I¡¯m Desecrated.
Something screamed inside her. Cold wind sent an involuntary shudder up her spine, something neither she nor the demon could control. She¡¯d felt this before. When she¡¯d been trapped within her own flesh, confined to some corner of her mind while something else had taken control. While that something else surrendered to her darkest desires.
But this time, there was nothing. Nothing was in control. The demon couldn¡¯t take over, and she felt an odd sharpness, like a dagger cutting into her thoughts ¨C it was cutting through the demon¡¯s thoughts. The demon was afraid!
If her body died while it was inside, it would die too. And a part of her thought: this was her chance. To defeat it. To take it with her. But she didn¡¯t want to die. She had to live. There was work to be done.
Just concentrate. With thought. With intention. The same way she¡¯d used Severed Spirit on the pillars, the same way she¡¯d cut through the fabric of the worlds ¨C she concentrated and reached for the demon scrambling to seize control of her body. She hadn¡¯t decided whether she wanted to push it out, force it out of her like a breath of foul air, but when her mind made contact with the demon¡¯s, sparks ignited. Lights flickered through her mind, and Jenny saw into the creature¡¯s soul.
No! cried the demon. Its blue flames rippled all around the thought space. Its wings spread. But Jenny¡¯s arm twitched. Her toes curled inside her armor. She closed one eye and opened it again before doing the same with the other. After a small gasp, a tiny inhale, the pressure eased off her lungs. She could breathe. Ever so slightly, but she could breathe. Warm air escaped her lips.
The other demons lurched closely, standing over her, waiting. Orange and yellow flames spilled out of their eyes, but they didn¡¯t speak. Could they speak?
No, they cannot. Demons are not creatures who speak in words. Demons communicate through fluctuations in temperature, through presence. Demons don''t even have a concept of language. No societies. No genders.
But these words weren¡¯t spoken. The demon wasn¡¯t speaking to her... no. She was inside the demon¡¯s mind. She was readings its thoughts as though it were an open book.
And she realized how the demon had gotten inside her: fear. It wanted her to be afraid... her fear, her worries, her emotions had given the demon an opening to access her. All demon communication was that. Emotions. Temperature. Light.
Another scream. A pained scream; she was falling through the demon¡¯s mind. Blue flames and fear and rage. There was so much rage inside the demon. Another inhale. A shudder. She wasn¡¯t sure who was shuddering, but images flashed through her mind.
It was the demon¡¯s life:
It was born a tiny dot of darkness, no bigger than a speck of dust. It floated through emptiness for countless years, slowly growing larger, heavier and denser, soaking up the light and warmth around it until it folded into itself. Until it compressed and compressed, vibrating with an intense desire to unfold, to express itself on the space around it, to know, to feel, to understand ¨C it exploded in a burst of brilliant colors, a supernova. Thus, the demon hatched.
81. Burning memories
Pinks and blues. Swirls of bright red and whites. Clouds of purples and greens, scattering the demon¡¯s growing body far and wide in the darkness. For a long time, for centuries, millions of years, for so long that time was no longer consequential, it existed as a mass of dust and warmth.
But bit by bit, with each passing century, it began to converge, reconstituting itself, forming around twin cores of light. Two bright spheres that gathered all that substance, all the clouds of dust and matter, and the silhouette of a body shimmered into shape. It was almost humanoid ¨C or perhaps it preceded the human shape. Long and slender with two limbs extending for legs and two more for arms. And once it finished its celestial metamorphosis, it descended from the heavens, falling out of the sky like a shooting star.
Jenny saw the Demon World. This world. Before the ice. It was a landscape of rocks with pools of lava and fires that burned like forests made of flame. A clear sky sprawled overhead, a sky filled with enormous stars ¨C No. They weren¡¯t stars. They were incubating demons born in the sky, waiting to go supernova.
THIS IS NOT FOR YOU TO SEE - crackled the radio static voice of the demon trying to take over her body. It scratched through her mind, and the memories faded as the demon¡¯s burning blue and purple eyes rose from the darkness.
A burning hot rage filled her chest. Jenny sucked in a deep breath, expanding her diaphragm completely ¨C no, it wasn¡¯t her taking the breath. The Demon was inhaling with her body. A burning feeling climbed up her throat and through her skull to alight on her face. Her vision flashed blue, burning, and she didn¡¯t need a mirror to know that fire was streaming out of her eyes just as it had done for the ghoul.
Not again, she swore, trying to reel in her mind, trying to root out the demon. But she could feel it digging, burrowing. Every time she tried to grasp it, it slipped out of her grasp and struck deeper. It was clawing through her fears, trying to pry her open, forcing itself into every orifice of her thoughts. Visions of Susan flashed. Her smile. Her hair. Her corpse. Her glowing hand. Light.
The light, came the demon¡¯s static voice, higher pitched than before. Give me the light. Open the worlds again. My people cannot survive here. My people need warmth. My people demand salvation.
Yeah? Jenny forced her body to take the next deep breath. In the split second of the demon¡¯s excitement at seeing the light, its stranglehold relaxed. Her eyes shut and opened. She squirmed on the ground, but it hadn¡¯t been enough. The demon rooted through her life.
Her childhood memories blew through the mind space. The demon saw Jenny¡¯s desperation to leave home; it saw her mom. It felt her crying and sobbing as she was screamed at, as she was hit, as she was trying to hide under the bed ¨C Jenny threw herself back into the demon¡¯s memories. She didn¡¯t need to relive any of her life, but if she could find something, anything, that would help her win control of her body, if she could distract it from opening the wounds of her own life, maybe she could -
Flames, orange and blue, erupted from her body. From her skin. From her armor. It was using Ignite, mixing her flames with its own.
Her eyes burned furiously, and any snow that drifted onto her melted away. Steam rose from the ground around her, enveloping her as it hid the world away, and she could no longer tell what was inside her head and what was in the world. Choking sounds filled her throat as she rolled over onto her stomach, wriggling and struggling, splashing in the water as she continued to burn.
A wind blew, clearing the view, and she looked up to see the crowd of deaths. The girl that Jenny had woken, moved toward Jenny, eyes wide, wanting to help.
¡°Stay back!¡± she gasped, but then another voice, deeper and uglier, tore out of her throat.
¡°Do not interfere!¡±
Her body turned over again. Her head snapped toward the demons who¡¯d been closing in, their ghoul bodies sauntering, arms swinging. Their eyes burned.
¡°Do not interfere,¡± rasped the voice from her throat again. ¡°We need this body. We need its light.¡±
The light! That¡¯s what it wants more than anything, and that realization mingled with the demon¡¯s mind ¨C the demon¡¯s desire was the way out. That was its weakness.
They both pictured the light of the passageway, golden and bursting with colors, and how Jenny had opened it. She showed the demon the exact memory, the exact hurt of how she¡¯d torn the worlds open before healing it. And that gave her just enough access to the demon¡¯s emotions to slip through.
Her body went rigid, back arching as she cried out. Was it a cry of triumph or the demon¡¯s cry of fear, she couldn¡¯t tell. But then she was freefalling again through the demon¡¯s memories. Its own hurt. The desperate reason it wanted her light.
Battle spread all around her. Was this a Survival Challenge? Some other kind of fight? She couldn¡¯t tell, but she was sure it was grim.
Countless figures, humanoid silhouettes made out of flame, the fires of their eyes rising like enormous flickering horns, and their wings, magnificent and wide, feathery and burning with little bits falling away to fizzle out. They had fearsome burning claws extending from their hands; the Army of Demons.
Angels swooped down from the sky, brilliant burst of colorful lights, white wings flapping powerfully. In their hands were shining swords and glassy spears. The demons rose from the ground, and the collision was cataclysmic.
Burning claws melted through angels. Weapons made of light sliced demons in half. Bodies exploded. Fire and lightning and wind blew around every single one of them; the elements raged on as well.
Fierce gusts blew away weaker demons and angels. Rivers of water gushed through the air, and geysers of lava burst from the ground. Some demons flew into a group of angels and exploded, lighting up the sky in a show of color and light nearly as bright as the sun. And there was so much color ¨C reds and oranges and blues. So much light, and they were so beautiful, Jenny swore the stars were battling. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
But the memories were hazy; she was in the demon¡¯s body, looking through its memories with its own eyes.
It felt responsible for the massacre. For the dead on both sides of the war. Demons and Angels alike. It was chosen to lead... not it. A he. He identified with masculinity, something he¡¯d adopted for himself after observing the angels. And this demon identified as Iblis, a name given to the demon by an angel called Sat¡¯en.
Iblis had loved Sat¡¯en.
A weighty feeling surfaced through these thoughts: longing, duty, responsibility, regret. Iblis had led the other demons in rebellion, following in the footsteps of the angel he loved. Fighting against an enemy that didn¡¯t have much hope in defeating, but a burning desire for change fueled Iblis. They had no choice in the fight.
Through his eyes, Jenny saw the other demons, floating in circles around Iblis so that everywhere he turned, shimmering silhouettes with burning eyes looked back at him ¨C they had chosen him as their leader.
The next memory shifted like smoke. Iblis¡¯ wings spread and flapped, the burning feathers generating heat and lift, and he looked down at the world as he flew through sky. Volcanos dotted the land as far as she could see. Rivers of lava thrummed across the land like veins. And above shone the stars, each one burning brilliantly.
Iblis loved the stars; they were his birthplace; they were his children. But they reminded him of the angel he loved.
Jenny couldn¡¯t see that angel no matter how much she searched. She tried to root deeper through the demon¡¯s mind, but those memories were blocked away. No, it was worse than that. Most of the memories of Sat¡¯en were forgotten.
Through Iblis¡¯ eyes she saw the sky rip open - a deep gash between the stars, like a jagged wound. As though someone had taken a knife to a painting of the night sky, and from that horrible darkness, poured out the angels.
Tarnished Angels plummeted from the wound. Unable to fly, their thin arms and legs flapped and kicked uselessly, their gaunt faces screaming as they dropped like stones. They landed on the molten ground, breaking apart into burning bits upon impact. Some landed on demons, dragging them down, flames billowing behind them.
Flying gracefully between the Tarnished Angels were the natural angels, holding swords as brightly colored as their bodies.
The memories came distorted and quickly. At first, she was in Iblis¡¯ body, his burning claws raking a purple wretched angel. He tore a tarnished angel in half, guts and blood splattering on the rivers of lava. A spear made of green light flashed through his arm but his burning body regenerated as quickly as the blow. The green angel didn¡¯t even get to respond; Iblis clawed its head off, and the angel disintegrated into vapor.
She couldn¡¯t tell who was winning. She saw angels sucking up demons, inhaling the glowing flames that seemed to comprise the demon¡¯s silhouette form. But she saw just as many angels struck down, cut into pieces or scorched to ashes. Iblis cut open desecrated angels, blood bursting every direction. He flew through the battle field like a bullet train, and corpses rained down, angels and demons alike as the demons rose higher and higher, trying to get to the gaping wound where the angels kept pouring from the darkness.
She could feel Iblis¡¯ determination. His desire for victory. For freedom. But a ghost of a face appeared, burning red eyes and an evil grin that was too wide. A large shadowy hand curled into an enormous fist and struck Iblis down from the sky.
A name popped into Iblis¡¯ mind, into Jenny¡¯s: Azra¡¯il, the Angel of Death.
A shudder rippled through the mindscape ¨C the enormous angel flapped four hideous bat-like wings and rushed down. Azra¡¯il¡¯s wide muscular frame seemed to take up the entire sky, and as he closed in, reaching for Iblis with one hand, she saw the angel¡¯s face. The look of sheer glee as Azra¡¯il¡¯s fingers closed around Iblis¡¯ throat ¨C around Jenny¡¯s throat as she was seeing through Iblis¡¯ eyes, feeling through Iblis¡¯ body.
A part of her wanted to feel happy watching the demon lose, but she felt his pain and anguish, and beyond the pain, a deep, cutting feeling of regret. The burning feeling of regret that she knew all too well.
Iblis the demon, chosen by his people, had done something horrible, something dreadful. Something that had cursed his entire people.
He had fallen in love. He had led his people into a war they could not win. He had-
There were gaps in Iblis¡¯ memories. Flashes of Azra¡¯il¡¯s dark gray face. She noted that he was the only angel wearing cloth. It looked like a loincloth made from leather. And a necklace of skulls bounced all over his broad gray chest as he punched Iblis repeatedly. Fists the size of boulders. Snakes that lunged from his head and snapped at Iblis¡¯ wings.
The demons had lost. Everything blurred. Jenny was falling, the dizzying sensation of tumbling from a great distance ¨C no, the demon was falling, burning up in the air, losing its silhouette as it crashed into desolate rock below. All around her, the other demons fell from the bursting stars, and the shadow above, the darkness, was sizzling away.
Snow began to fall. Gently at first, but with every passing second, the storm picked up, and a furious blizzard enveloped the world.
The flames of the demons rippled. Iblis¡¯ blue fires struggled as the ground froze. As the warmth and heat faded away. He and his people succumbed to the cold, their bodies slowing down to a standstill ¨C and he/Jenny looked up to see Azra¡¯il towering over it all, a cruel fist raised to the sky. The angel was draining all the heat from the world, and he was laughing. Laughing so loudly that his laughter became thunder that rolled across the sky, fading only as Azara¡¯il vanished in a flash of darkness.
Cold became the only memory, spreading like frost across a windshield. It was all Iblis felt. It was all he¡¯d known. The coldness that sapped all his strength, his ability to maintain form. He and his demons drifted across the frozen world, moving gently with the wind, with no care for self, with no desire for self.
Without warmth, they had no idea of self, and nobody could tell him apart from the others ¨C and he was grateful. The sense of responsibility dulled; his regret dull; his broken heart faded away.
Centuries curled up and crumbled away; millennia passed by. How many oscillations around the Material World? They lost track of all meaning, but the demons didn¡¯t die.
They couldn¡¯t die. Billions of demons languished in their world, stuck in place, all of them still and calm, comatose like fish asleep in a frozen lake. With no thoughts to be shared, no emotions what so ever, a quiet world where the only sounds are the muffled softness of snowflakes landing on piling snow.
But burning discreetly, hidden away, a familiar desire to break free. For revenge. For love. A nurtured secret want.
Iblis¡¯ buried wants; to live his life. To escape from this frozen, cold world. To rise up to the heavens and tear the angels down from the sky. Something he kept hidden away, lamenting and lost, drifting through the snow and blinking away centuries of sleep, until one day, the snow parted.
The wind curved, and temperature rippled through the world. A little opening appeared in the air, and golden light bloomed. Colors and heat spread across the world, chasing the wind, fading, but it was enough.
Iblis shifted from the snow. His fellow demons began to move again, their particles, their sparkling essences growing excited. They rushed over to the parting in the air, sensing the warmth of the other worlds, a warmth they had not felt in so long that it stung, it burned.
He wished so desperately to slip through this gap and leave this frozen hurt, but then a human tumbled out of the light. A girl with swishing tentacles, and a partial red exoskeleton, and the blank, white eyes of the tarnished ones.
Announcement: BOOK ONE OFFICIAL RELEASE!
Hey
So book one of All His Angels Are Starving just officially released in bookstores. It''s a bit surreal seeing a dream I''ve had since I was super young come to fruition, despite how awful it''s been lately. Idk. I set out to write a story, and now here it is as a fricken book.
So much has happened since I wrote that first chapter. I''ve grown a lot as a person, a writer, and a cannibal. And like, i really don''t know how to feel right now. I''m excited but still like ??? is this real? Or is this just another delusion that I''m convincing myself of right now to pretend I''m okay.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
A lot''s been going on. But I''m writing. And I cannot wait to hit "the end" on this series. Book 2 is nearly done. Book 3 is in full swing. Very excited for everything to come. And to see how much I grow from finishing a series.
Love you so much. Seriously. This would never have happened without you guys here reading, commenting, and sending me love and support throughout this entire process.
More soon,
Tess
PS: the links and stuff are down below as I can''t do links here apparently
also, i think the cover-art looks hella slick
PSS: more chapters coming your way tmrw
82. Burning through her thoughts
It took Jenny a second to recognize she was watching herself emerge into the world. She''d nearly gotten lost in Iblis¡¯ memories ¨C his astonishment at seeing someone of material form, it became her astonishment as well. The ages spent frozen, without feeling, without change, and suddenly here was a human with tentacles retracting into her back and an exoskeleton bubbling back inside her.
The heat of it. The heat emanating off her body, off the rippling light behind her. Warmth radiated, awakening the demons, bringing them back to life, inviting them to the source. More and more bodies tumbled out of the light to collapse on the snow, each new body burning with life.
She felt Iblis¡¯ surprise as the ghouls froze in place, at the intense heat radiating off the Deaths. He recognized them. There were flashes of memories, of people trapped in pillars of salt, screaming and crying ¨C of the ghouls marching across a desolate land. Jenny slipped deeper into the demon¡¯s psyche almost by accident as more memories tumbled out-
It wasn¡¯t war. Iblis hadn¡¯t led the demons in rebellion. He¡¯d led them in servitude. The angel Sat¡¯en had convinced him to join their cause. To conquer the worlds. To spread true freedom. They¡¯d served under Him.
Fear shook the mind scape so violently, that Jenny lost her grip. Her hold on the demon¡¯s mind loosened, and Iblis tore to the surface in this strange mental space they shared. The demon was shocked. Furious. Ashamed.
You are not human, he said accusingly, his static echoing around her as though countless echoes were clashing inside a cave. But you are not properly desecrated! Your mind is still intact. What are you? How can this be?
I DON¡¯T KNOW, she screamed back, and all the horrible twisted feelings surfaced all at once. The mind scape vibrated violently, shattering like a mirror, ugly cracks running along every edge of this invisible space. But get the fuck out of my body if you want to talk.
The demon didn¡¯t respond right away. It floated aimlessly inside her, watching. Observing. I cannot fail my people again. And with that, it struck again.
Radio static pierced through her anger, forced her from the demon¡¯s memories and back into her own. Iblis burrowed inside, and Jenny¡¯s body shook. Fire streamed from her eyes. Cold air stung the back of her throat.
Internally, she was trying to kick, trying to struggle and resist, but her body would not respond. Iblis was in control, trying to take control, and her body hunched over. Warmth spread through her limbs. Her fingers twitched.
The demon had tricked her. He¡¯d wanted her to see all those things, just as Eve had once shown her so many things ¨C it was all a distraction. To rile up her emotions. To make her understand the demon¡¯s plight.
But she could do the same.
You wanna see hurt? You think you¡¯re the only one who knows what it feels like to get away from something so desperately? Spittle dribbled down her chin as her body convulsed. Then here!
Her memories bubbled to the forefront of her mind. Visions of Yeshua, how Jenny had found him on the cross begging for death. She brought up the ghouls, watching them bite and chew through Yeshua and the Deaths. She showed the demon what it was like to even have a body. To hunger, to feel disgust, to bleed. To never feel comfortable even just having a body. The awkwardness of it all ¨C to love someone, or think you love someone. To feel alone and miserable. To never having clothes that fit perfectly. To questioning how you look everywhere you go. To questioning how everyone looks at you. And how silly it all feels because in the grand scheme of things, who gives a fuck?
She showed Iblis her life in high school, rifling through classes and homework and crushes. Gaming late into the night with Susan. Wanting to tell her how she felt. Wanting to say so many things that she never could. Crying. Sobbing. Feeling empty on the train. Hiding grades and things from her mother. Dealing with her expanding family. It felt so stupid that she¡¯d cried over these things, but they hurt. They were her hurt. And she wanted the demon to see, even as the memories shifted into the Survival Challenge, even as nightmares tried to eat her.
She showed the demon all the tarnished and wretched angels she¡¯d fought. She showed the demon what she¡¯d become. Severed Spirit. How she¡¯d fought and eaten angels. How angry she felt. Then she showed Iblis the thing she feared the most: what she¡¯d done to Susan. Susan¡¯s final moment. How the light that the demons wanted so badly belonged to Susan.
How she¡¯d killed Susan.
I HATE THEM TOO! she screamed silently from the imprisonment of her worst memories. She wasn¡¯t even sure what she hated. Just them. The idea of them. The things that had taken everything from her, that never really let her have anything. Even if that was her fault. There was something beyond the world that had always kept the world miserable. She was sure of it. And she was sure it had to do with the angels and demons and deaths and all these stupid horrible things that kept happening.
Her memories went on, from Susan¡¯s lifeless corpse on the cafeteria floor to the sunlight streaming in through broken windows. To the moment Jenny¡¯s stomach rippled and stretched, and that glowing thing squeezed out of her and grew into a copy of her ¨C and feeling that, feeling the pain of giving birth, and feeling the pain and regret and anguish of what she¡¯d done to Susan, and watching Eve take shape ¨C that made the demon finally relent.
Everything went quiet inside Jenny¡¯s head, like a storm ending abruptly. The winds stopped. The battering chaos eased. The assault on her body faded away as Iblis retreated.
Her body convulsed. Her back arched. And then with a scream. she wasn¡¯t sure if she was screaming inside her head or out loud, blue fire rose up from her body, spilling out of her face, from her eyes and nose and lips, billowing and bubbling as though something inside of her was boiling away. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
It took a while for the steam to clear up. Cold air enveloped her again, and the water turned to ice again beneath her. A cough racked her lungs, and she spit bloody phlegm before wiping hair out of her face. She¡¯d been sweating profusely, and now all that sweat was freezing. The cold sank deep into her bones with a horrible ache.
A shimmering form hovered in front of her as she shivered. Tears had frozen on her cheeks. She couldn¡¯t tell who¡¯d cried them. Iblis shrank, the humanoid form fading away until all that remained was a small group of sparkling blue lights.
I apologize, he said.
Jenny swallowed hard, forcing out a breath that clouded away from her lips. Her fingers curled in the snow. ¡°You¡¯re only sorry cause you didn¡¯t get what you wanted.¡±
The sparkles floated away, back to the ghoul body lying in the snow with an ugly crack in its skull. The lights shot down into its face, sinking beneath the frost, and a moment later, the blue flames roared back to life in its eye sockets. The body stood, its mouth opened and shut, and that gooey blue glow seeped out from the cracks again. I am apologizing for my rash actions.
¡°Like I said, you¡¯re only saying that cause you failed. You couldn¡¯t take control and now you need me. You need this.¡± She held up her hand and used a little bit of Valescent Light.
Immediately, the dizzying sensation of exhaustion struck her, but she clenched her chattering teeth and shook the light away, not wanting to show any weakness in front of the demons. What would happen if she passed out and couldn¡¯t consciously fight the possession? Would they just wait till she collapsed from the cold and take over? What if she fell asleep?
But the burning blue eyes brightened. The flames grew larger. The other demons clacked their jaws and stepped closer, and Iblis turned to face them. She couldn¡¯t see or hear anything, but she felt waves of warmth fluttering around the air, slight pressures and ripples, little pockets of warmth that faded into the freezing wind.
Then Iblis turned back to Jenny, lowering his bulbous ghoul head, the two blue flames curling over it. Very well. I felt that you had many questions. That you are lost in this grand drama. May I explain what you glimpsed? May I explain my actions? And may I offer a suggestion on how we can proceed?
Jenny couldn¡¯t stop shivering. Her eyes watered, and she blinked several times to keep from crying. To keep her eyes from freezing. She used a small burst of Ignite, letting the flames flicker down her arms and legs. She glanced back at the deaths. Some of them had collapsed. Others stared helplessly. And she decided she didn¡¯t care what the Demons had to say just yet. She turned her back on the demons.
It was a risky move. But she knew they wouldn¡¯t attack her. She¡¯d felt Iblis¡¯ desperation, and they¡¯d played their one card. They tried to control her and couldn¡¯t. Would they go after the deaths? They might, but the deaths didn¡¯t have the ability they wanted. Deaths couldn¡¯t open passageways between worlds. They needed her. And only her.
Maybe she could use this to her advantage. She finally had the upper hand. She could finally get some answers. And maybe she could even help...
Help them? WHY?
They wanted to possess me! Why would I ever help them?
It¡¯s what Susan would do. It¡¯s the right thing. They were just desperate. And maybe we need them on our side. We don¡¯t know what¡¯s even going on.
Susan¡¯s not here. She¡¯s dead.
YOU killed her.
I fucking know!
She approached the trembling deaths, trying to put on a brave smile. Trying to assure them everything would be okay. Then she focused on the system.
A pile of wood will cost 100 Energy.
Sufficient Energy.
Jenny squatted down in front of the deaths, wary of the demons staring at her. Were they angry? Insulted? She didn¡¯t care. They were the ones who¡¯d attacked her when they could¡¯ve talked this out from the get go. She held her hand out over the snow and felt that familiar shudder as the system responded.
Golden light swirled around her fingers and her arm. The deaths stared with intense curiosity, and she inhaled deeply as the light slipped gently off her palm and onto the ground, glowing brighter and brighter, elongating as it turned solid.
After a moment, a pile of crudely stacked wood lay on top of the snow, just as she¡¯d pictured it. It was nearly identically to the firewood she¡¯d once chopped and gathered in front of her stepdad¡¯s cabin. She made three more piles, spreading them out so that the deaths would have enough space, and, with three uses of Ignite, lit them up. Three bonfires on a frozen world flickered with orange warmth as the grateful deaths gathered around them, murmuring their appreciation and gratitude toward Jenny.
She wondered if the demons longed to be near the flames as well. Deciding to keep with the camping vibe, she created several large logs. She¡¯d always liked sitting on fallen trees; she didn¡¯t know why. Something about being in the woods, away from the bustle of civilization.
Jenny made several logs and dragged them into place around the fires. This way the deaths could rest and wouldn¡¯t have to sit on the frozen ground. Susan once told her that when making shelters for the alley cats behind her apartment building, they had to make sure the small structures were raised. If they were on the ground, all the body heat of the cat would seep into the cold ground, and they would never be able to get warm.
Once that was prepared, she conjured a fire for herself. Then another log. Then, finally, she turned to face the demons, sitting down to rest her legs. Breathe. Inhale and exhale, relax your body and mind.
She couldn¡¯t handle any of this, deal with any of this if she responded out of fear, out of desperation. She was worried about Yeshua, terrified of having to look after the deaths and keep them safe from the demons. Terrified still of losing control of her body. She didn¡¯t want anything controlling her like that ever again.
But if she didn¡¯t relax, she wouldn¡¯t be able to figure out what to do. The demon had inadvertently taught her that; fear made an opening; fear allowed them to enter.
She didn¡¯t know what to do. But that was okay. Her plan had been to rest anyway. To regather her strength and open the passageway back to the world of the dead so she could retrieve Yeshua. That plan hadn¡¯t changed.
But maybe... maybe the demons could help her in return. Iblis had recognized something before he pulled away; she¡¯d felt recognition. It was when she was pregnant, when she¡¯d given birth. That had to be the key to this. Did they know Eve?
No. It was deeper than that. They knew betrayal. That angel named Sat¡¯en... why was that so familiar? Was that... Satan?
And why was there such a deep sense of betrayal? A wound so deep that Iblis had rid himself of those memories?
Love. There¡¯d been such an intense love ¨C but what did it all mean? What did it add up to?
Once the tension in her body eased and her lungs stopped feeling like someone else¡¯s and the heat radiating from the campfire had soothed her stinging nose and brought sensation back to her face, Iblis approached her.
He could read her thoughts; she knew that. It wasn¡¯t an exact read, but he knew that she would be willing to talk now. And she knew that the demon knew she would help, but that she had questions. She straightened her shoulders, trying to appear confident now that she had a fire going, now that she¡¯d bested the demon in maintaining control of her body. ¡°Go on then. Tell me why I should help you.¡±
I believe we are on the same side of this war.
28. The Cocoon
The cocoon radiated heat, making the lab room sweltering hot. The air was humid and thick with the metallic taste of blood. Bodies lay around it, piled in unsightly heaps. It was almost like some twisted sort of nest. Except the bird that built this nest didn''t collect little twigs and mud; it used flesh and blood.
Desecrated Angel (level 30)
Jenny kept the notification in her head as she stared at it, vaguely aware of the striped, yellow Wretched Angel dragging the girls away. She remembered the stairwell, the first "nest" she''d seen. How those two Wretched Angels had kept that boy alive to drain his blood. These angels must be doing the same, for all the sacs that covered the ceiling, and for this large cocoon-like sac. But why did the Desecrated Angell need such a thing?
The stench clogged her lungs. She had to cough but knew coughing would set off even more agony, and she forced herself to remain as still as possible. Everything ached, burned, or throbbed. But with Oliver nearby, she refused to drift off into unconsciousness no matter how strongly the darkness tugged on the edges of her mind.
Focus... Focus! She connected thoughts. The angels had dragged all the bodies here. These two male Wretched Angels must be serving the cocooned female. Did angels have a matriarchal society? Like bees and ants?
She ignored the pain, trying to remember things she''d read in books and seen in documentaries. One insect would become the Queen, eating a special diet to grow large so it can lay countless eggs for the colony. Then they¡¯d spread and seek out more food so they can lay more eggs and continue to grow.
The angels looked human, but the sacs they produced were not human at all. And the female angel reminded her of a worm or caterpillar gestating inside a cocoon before emerging with wings and...
She blinked in shock. Would the Desecrated Angel emerge with wings? Then it would look more like the angels from holy books, wouldn''t it? How much stronger would it be?
She sucked in a warm, moist breath. Air whistled through her crushed nose and stung her bleeding gums.
The yellow Wretched Angel''s covering turned green in the blue light before it faded, and it shone yellow again. It dropped one of the girls onto a pile of bodies and raised the other, cradling her limp body in its slim, muscular arms. This angel wasn''t as wide as the one covered in black. It wasn''t as monstrous either. It had long white hair. Its covering was thin, and Jenny could see the outline of its spine. The stripes were black, reminding her of a tiger.
It placed the girl on the table as though she were a slab of meat ready to be tenderized and slathered with spices. Jenny strained to see what the creature was doing, but it had its back to her, blocking her view. At least it wasn''t Oliver''s friend; she was lying on the floor, her broken helmet reflecting the cocoon''s blue glow.
The bodies around the girl looked thin and drained... almost like Tarnished Angels. Some of them were Angels, but even the humans appeared thinner and mangled, their faces ghastly. With a cold sweat, she realized they''d been drained of all their blood.
Once again, she tried to summon her hatchet, the muscles in her forearm straining. She clenched her teeth by accident, and renewed pains shot through her messed-up jaw. Then she noticed the black Wretched Angel. It crawled across the ceiling between the sacs, touching each one with its clawed hands and tendrils.
A glimmer of golden light sparked in her hand, but she stopped trying to summon it. The light gave her the tiniest bit of comfort, but not yet. Not just yet, she told herself. If she summoned it, the angel would notice immediately, and she was in no condition to fight. She¡¯d bide her time. Wait for an opening, any opportunity...
The other humans, the ones alive and lined up near her and Oliver... if she could somehow wake them up. If she could create a potion and split it between them all, just to heal them enough to fight together, maybe she could rally and-
A revolting crack cut through her desperate planning. Jenny winced, but she turned her head to see the yellow Wretched Angel on top of the girl. It crouched over her, pinning her arms with its hands. Her armor was torn open. The angel''s face was pressed to her neck, and it started slurping.
They were long wet slurps, with brief pauses to swallow as the girl cried softly. Jenny lay on the floor wishing she could claw out the insides of her ears. She couldn''t even tell if the girl was awake or crying helplessly in her unconscious state. God, she prayed the girl was unconscious. Nobody should have to suffer something like that.
The slurping went on and on, until, finally, it was quiet again except for the sound of her pounding heart.
The angel sat up, tilting its head back as it swallowed again. Its covering appeared green again before the light faded, then the creature slid off the table and stomped over to the cocoon, hissing as though it were speaking.
A crease appeared down the cocoon¡¯s center. From inside, something bulged against the protective skin-like layer, stretching it out before bursting through.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The Desecrated Angel¡¯s head appeared.
The bright blue glow faded to a dull glow, as though from a dying lightbulb. The eerie hue stained everything in the room. Jenny didn''t dare blink. The angel''s face was dark, the covering was no longer glossy and slick, but instead looked metallic and woven. It reminded her of carbon fiber. Its face was thin and gaunt with a pronounced jawline and cheekbones.
Its two antennae twitched as its golden hair spilled forward to cover the sides of its head. Gooey liquid dripped from its hair and chin while everything below its neck remained inside the cocoon. Its eyes were shut, but its mouth opened. A tongue stretched out expectantly.
Now a dull green in the dim blue light, the Wretched Angel bent slightly to kiss the other. Its throat convulsed, its chest heaved, and it gripped the Desecrated Angel''s face with both hands.
As it swallowed, the cocoon¡¯s light brightened intensely, blinding Jenny. But the image of them kissing was seared in her mind. She heard the retching. She heard splattering. Swallowing. She pictured a mother bird feeding screaming chicks, their beaks open as they cried out. She''d throw up the worms and bugs she''d hunted, after digesting them in her gut, and the young would eat it up.
When the light faded, Jenny blinked repeatedly, trying to clear her vision. She saw the Desecrated Angel staring.
A terrible chill sent goosebumps racing up and down her body despite the disgusting humidity and how much she was sweating beneath her armor.
The creature''s antennae flicked. Its eyes were open, glowing violently blue, and Jenny realized it was no longer a vacant stare.
Its eyes were no longer vacant whiteness. It had pupils now, giving it a freakishly human appearance. Its lips curved into a smile, the carbon fiber skin shimmering as it forced an arm out of the cocoon. Thick liquid glopped and splattered on the floor. It pointed with fingers covered in slime, hissing and shushing, not taking its eyes off Jenny¡¯s. Then it broke into a fit of coughing, hacking up blood and spittle.
The creature''s breath was raspy and painful. Jenny got the sense it couldn''t handle the air. As though its insides were still forming. What was it that caterpillars did inside a chrysalis? Dissolve into an organic soup before taking on a new shape?
The Wretched Angel''s head turned. It hissed something in response before helping the Desecrated Angel slide back inside. More gooey liquid escaped, dribbling down the side of the cocoon before the slit faded away and the large sac was whole again.
She knew what had happened. She knew the Desecrated Angel had declared its next meal. It wanted her.
Whimpering as pain shot through her skull, she again tried to get up, desperately flexing her core. If she could just get to her feet... if she could just stand, her head would stop spinning, she could summon her hatchet, and she might be able to do something.
But the yellow Wretched Angel was already stomping towards her, crushing limbs and hands beneath its feet. The other male was still working through the sacs, adjusting and stroking.
Her head dropped as she stopped straining. She turned to look at Oliver as the footsteps drew near. He was lying awkwardly, the red mark on his face glistening in the fading light. The sight of his twisted leg made her want to scream. He wouldn''t be able to walk out of here much less run. And if he''d had enough Energy, then he would''ve tried to heal it already.
Maybe he could crawl? Maybe if she could create a distraction somehow and he woke up... But would he leave his friend behind?
Her thoughts swirled as desperation threatened to suffocate her. No idea leaped into her mind. She wasn''t the planning type. That was Susan. Jenny was the rush-in-blindly-and-just-do-it type. At least Susan was safe in the library.
The angel scooped her up with both arms. Something popped between her ribs, and her body writhed with pain as her limbs hung loose. Her shield bounced against its knees. The angel didn''t seem to care. Blood and drool glistened on its chin as it carried her to another table and gently, almost reverently, lowered her.
Her helmet clanged against the table. She felt like a sack of potatoes. Her jaws snapped and crackled as she tried to say something, but her gums burned with pain, and all she managed to do was gape like a fish out of water.
On the ceiling, the black Wretched Angel moved further away, toward the back of the lab room. From this angle, it seemed like a fly exploring a bowl of flesh colored grapes. The sacs wriggled, glowing faintly in the blue light as the angel caressed them.
Jenny''s vision kept fading in and out; she was about to pass out. She was trapped in her useless body. Her bones ruined by her own attacks. Her face smashed in because of her recklessness.
But wasn''t this how she''d always felt? Stuck in her own flesh. Trapped. All she''d ever wanted was to break free. To get away. To chase her dreams and wants and do all the things she wanted to do. It was almost poetic that this was how she died then.
You will not perish here, Jenny Huang.
She scoffed, regretting it instantly as blood spurted out of her throat. I thought you gave up on me. She sensed Eve on the fringes of her mind, and she had a dozen self-pitying remarks. but before she could respond, the Wretched Angel knelt forward.
It was going to suck out her blood, wasn''t it? Like a vampire... it was going to crack open her armor and bite her neck and then feed the Desecrated Angel. Jenny braced for the worst as the creature¡¯s hands explored her armor. But instead of attacking, it sniffed.
Its striped face hovered over her navel, then worked down to her feet. It paused where her armor was broken, where she was bleeding. Then it sniffed her left hand, turning her arm to move the shield out of the way. She felt the wetness of its lips against the stubs of her fingers, and she shuddered.
It sniffed her chest next and hissed gently when its lips brushed her crumpled nose, pain blossoming like a flame on her face. The hissing changed frequency, and then it climbed on top of her. Its knees on the table, holding her hips. Its hands curled around her arms. She stared into its empty eyes, saw the stained teeth, and inhaled the rancid, decaying odor of its breath. Its yellow covering shone green again, blue light glowing over everything as a drop of warm saliva hit her face.
Ignite! she thought. Ignite!
With all the possible strength left in her mind, she tried to summon the flames. She wanted to burn the dreadful creature to ashes, but her thoughts turned to mush. All the fight emptied out of her as the angel pressed its lips to her nose. She felt its teeth scraping against exposed cartilage. Felt its tongue, slimy and thick run all over her face as though searching for something.
Then it began to suck.
29. Hesitations
Once, on her way to school, a tragic incident disrupted subway services all over the city. Someone had jumped onto the tracks.
Jenny waited nearly an hour at their station for a train. When it finally arrived, every single car was already packed. Yet everyone waiting at the station, to get to school or to get to work, forced their way inside. Nobody waited for the next train in New York City; it was always rush, rush, rush.
The swelling tide of people forced her into the subway car, and she struggled to find a pole to hold on to. There was hardly any room to breathe; she''d taken off her schoolbag and held it between her legs, praying desperately for the train not to stall underground. It was hot, bodies pressed her from every side, and she could feel their breath on her face.
She tried to listen to her music, eyes shut as the lights overhead flickered, and the train thundered through the Manhattan underground. It swayed and rocked, and elbows bumped into her, arms brushed her shoulders, and people shuffled awkwardly. Everyone squeezed together to form a disgusting blob of limbs and sweat.
Someone grabbed her hip.
At first, she thought it was an accident. It had to be an accident. But the fingers lingered. They crawled up her sides, under her sweater. Nails scratched her gently. A moist palm massaged her lower back, the fingertips teasing the waistline of her jeans.
She''d wanted to scream. Wanted to turn and smash that person in the face with her phone. To tell someone. Anyone. But there was hardly room to breathe, let alone move away and escape.
She''d done nothing. She''d stood, unable to act, motionless except for the rocking of the train as it hurled through the tunnels, and someone felt her up.
At the next stop, the commotion of moving people allowed her to escape. She pushed deeper into the train, no longer trying to be polite. A lump threatened to burst out of her throat. She found a spot beside one of the closed doors and leaned against it. She didn¡¯t look around. She didn¡¯t glance at anyone; she couldn¡¯t meet anyone¡¯s eyes. What if the person who¡¯d touched her was staring back?
She kept her focus on her shoes, trying to delete the sensation of being in her body. The way her skin burned. She wasn¡¯t here. She wasn¡¯t real. She was just another fixture, a part of the train as it shook and screeched and thundered.
She didn¡¯t speak to anyone for the rest of that day. She didn¡¯t participate in class. She didn¡¯t eat lunch. She''d wanted to burn out every skin cell that had been touched. Wanted to remove it with a potato peeler or cheese grater. It wasn''t hers anymore. It belonged to that stranger.
And worst of all, she''d hated herself for not saying a word. For not fighting. For not shouting or screaming. But would anyone have heard her over the roar of the train? Would anyone have done a thing?
What should she have done?
What should she do now?
The angel''s tongue slid into one of her nostrils. She felt the heat of her blood rising to her face. She felt the sensation of it slipping out, as though a vacuum was attached to her nose. Her blood and its saliva dribbled down its chin and dropped into her mouth so that she could taste the rottenness of the Angel''s breath. She didn''t shut her eyes, even as the sucking lifted her head off the table. All she saw in its white emptiness was the hopelessness and dread she''d always known.
She knew she could do something. She could hit it with her shield, push it off with her leg. She could exhale flames. The pain had faded; all she could feel was the draining sensation that burned the middle of her face. It only paused to swallow.
But her body no longer belonged to her. It wouldn''t respond no matter how much she wanted it to. She was back on that train on that terrible morning, trapped in her flesh as someone else claimed it and made it theirs in the worst possible way.
Her blood left her body one suck at a time. She couldn''t tell how much time had passed. How much blood did she even have left? Her mind went blank, and darkness overtook her before her eyes flew open and she was face to face with the Wretched Angel again. The way it hunched over her, it was almost like the creature was trying to resuscitate her with CPR.
When finally it stopped sucking and its lips separated from her face with a sloppy wet sound, she was surprised to still be conscious. She couldn¡¯t feel her body. Couldn¡¯t move.
The creature slid off the table and stomped away, the tremors reaching her through the floor. She stared at the wriggling sacs on the ceiling, a dull silence ringing in her head.
She heard hissing. She heard retching. She didn''t dare to breathe. She wanted to vanish. She wanted to not be.
You must not surrender.
The message burst through her thoughts like a ball of flame. Visuals accompanied it. She saw Susan, and she wasn''t sure if she was imagining things or if Eve was revealing the present, but Susan was covered in blood. Fresh blood. Her nose was broken, she was crying, clutching her cattle prod and sitting on the floor.
No...
Jenny''s fingers twitched. She could still taste the angel''s sour breath. What can I even do? What can I do? Is Susan safe?
Susan Brown is an active participant in the Survival Challenge.
I''m going to die here...
The next vision unfurled like dark angry clouds spreading wildly, rumbling with thunder and flashing lightning. The three-headed figure blossomed into the forefront of her mind, shimmering golden and transparent. Jenny was floating again in that darkness, in that other world where she''d met Eve.
Each of Eve''s faces shifted, a blur of eyes and noses and lips. The center face settled, and Jenny recognized the exasperated look of her mother, the wrinkle on her forehead when her brows furrowed. It spoke with her mother''s lips.
I chose you for a reason.
Well, you chose wrong. I''m fucking done. It''s game over, she thought, with an ugly bitterness. She''d convinced Susan to think about this as a game, she''d tried to trick herself too. But now it was over.
Lightning flashed, searing her from the inside. The three-headed figure drew close, so close that her mother''s face was suddenly right in front of Jenny''s. She flinched but couldn''t float away.
You are mine, Jenny Huang.
You are capable of so much more than you permit yourself to express.
What are you even-
Quiet.
The force that word moved through her like a torrential downpour. Her mind trembled and came apart and reunited.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
At every turn, you choose to stop.
You sense your growth. You sense the possibilities of what you are capable of. But then you hesitate.
I don''t-
Your memories spill through me, Jenny Huang.
All your life, hesitation is your response when anything goes your way. You reject yourself. You push away every opportunity that presents.
The flurry of visions that burst like fireworks made her head spin. She saw every crush she ever had. Saw her feelings for Susan. Saw herself attempting art, attempting music, attempting to write stories. She saw the frustration, the fear, the way she left everything half finished, half touched. From one thing to another, trying and never completing. She even saw herself fighting. Trying her new skills and testing her new strengths, only to stumble.
You bury your emotions and convince yourself you can feel them later. You let yourself fester and fade and rot.
Why must you always wait to be free?
The visions blurred. She was crying in bed, counting the days till she could set out for college and move away.
I don''t know, she whispered.
In the next vision, she hovered in front of the library. She saw herself storming down the hallway, cutting through the Tarnished Angels with ease. She saw the fight she''d just lost to the Wretched Angel, saw what she could¡¯ve done differently. She saw her skills in action. Her throw. Her burst of speed. Her flames. Her hatchet.
Your true self itches for release. Yet, you let yourself stumble. Buried deep within your soul is a yearning desperate to be unleashed.
Jenny held her tongue. She wanted to argue. To shoot back. She was worthless. Incapable. She can''t do this. She can''t. She was only good at rushing in blindly, and if someone wasn''t there to hold her hand, to have her back, to pick up her pieces, then she was useless. She just can''t do it on her own. She''s not strong enough not-
I have tasted your dreams, Jenny Huang. I have feasted on your nightmares. I know the textures of your sins and prayers.
I have watched. I have listened. I have chosen you for my purpose.
But what if you chose wrong? I¡¯m... All I do is mess things up. Whenever I try, whenever I care too much, I just...
At your current stage, humankind can only evolve so many abilities before their minds collapse.
But you command several skills. Skills beyond the current prowess of your growing body, but you have willed them into existence nonetheless.
I was just... I just doing things I¡¯ve seen before.
Have any of the Wretched Angels expressed such a number of abilities?
She remembered the angels in the stairwell. The burst of speed that she''d emulated. She remembered the other angel gorging on itself to heal. Eve was right. They weren''t using many skills. They were relying on brutish strength and straightforward attacks.
I thought... I thought that was because of you. Because you chose me or something. I thought you were helping me and making me stronger. So I could give birth to you.
But Eve ignored her.
An average human at stage ii would have one. Perhaps two.
Whereas you have not yet been restrained by your capacity for growth.
The other two faces stopped shifting. She saw Oliver with his glasses. Susan with her blue hair.
The only thing stopping you, that has always inhibited you, is your self-doubt.
That is your eternal enemy. That is why your element is flame. You burn brightly then vanish, too afraid to continue burning.
A hand touched Jenny¡¯s cheek. She looked at each of the faces in turn, stopping when she noticed the tears streaming down her mother¡¯s cheeks.
I have chosen you because you are my best chance. I have made you mine, but in truth, I am bound by you.
If you fail, then I shall fail.
So you need me? whispered Jenny, a strange warmth filling her with the three-headed figure''s golden shimmering light.
Our fates are intertwined.
Blue light flooded the space; Jenny opened her eyes to see the room completely basked in the glow. Light pulsed from the cocoon, each one brighter and brighter. Eve blinked out of Jenny¡¯s mind. The table shook as though the earthquake had struck again, and she turned her head, blood dripping down the side of her face, to see the Desecrated Angel moving inside the large sac.
The cocoon bulged and twisted and rippled as the Wretched Angel lumbered back, hissing. The angel on the ceiling hissed as well, but the cocoon kept pulsing. The floor shook, the sacs above jiggled, and a few of them dropped.
Jenny¡¯s blood had been an important ingredient. She wondered if it was related to what Eve said, how she had a greater capacity than other humans. Did that make her blood special somehow? Was that what the Desecrated Angel sniffed out when it pointed at her?
Her blood ran through that creature¡¯s veins now, and judging by the shift in light, the energy emanating from the cocoon, her blood had given the creature strength.
It would want more.
Jenny¡¯s mind filled with possibilities. She was still injured, still weak, still in agony.
She didn¡¯t have enough Energy for another Potion of Fortification. Without some sort of boost, even if she managed to get to her feet and fight, she¡¯d die. Her fingers clenched into a fist. Her shield scraped against the table. Every movement hurt, but at least she could move.
The Wretched Angel stomped toward her. Her blood dripped from its exposed teeth. It was going to touch her again. It was going to suck on her again.
Her heart raced. She felt faint. She felt weak. She didn¡¯t want to move, didn¡¯t want to be here, didn¡¯t want it to touch her again.
She pressed her tongue against her ruined gums, igniting more pain in her mouth to distract from the paralyzing fear. As it approached, she sifted through movies and games and storybooks. Powers and abilities she''d always wished to have. Flight. Impervious skin. Regeneration. Fire. Lightning.
Her skills so far had been extensions of her own will. She wanted to throw harder and move quicker, and her body responded. She wanted to explode with rage, and that manifested as fire.
She wanted to research all of this, study it to every last detail, and plan out the best course of action. the best way to spend her Energy. The best armor to build.
She wanted to sit with Susan, preferably in Susan¡¯s bedroom, pouring over all the information until they came up with a crazy strategy. But Susan wasn¡¯t here.
Jenny would have to figure something out. In games, there were limitations that guided them. Things they couldn''t do or things they could abuse.
But this Guidance System... it was like being assigned a paper, like an essay she had to write on the beginning of The Scarlet Letter. Mrs. Rivera hadn''t given them a question to answer. Instead, she wanted the class to propose a thesis and explore their own ideas. It frustrated Jenny to no end.
The angel hovered over her, its face glistening. It was sniffing, licking its lips. It liked the taste of her blood.
Jenny retreated further into her thoughts as the creature grabbed her shoulders and climbed back up. This isn''t my body. I''m not here. This isn''t happening to me.
What delusion am I convincing myself of...
She''d always escaped into stories, hadn''t she? Lies she told herself before going to bed. Situations she imagined as she fell asleep. The books she read, the movies she''d watch, the daydreams she''d have about Susan, about the two of them venturing across fantasy lands.
Eve was right. Jenny had been waiting this whole time. Waiting for change. Waiting for some big meaningful action to change everything for her.
She''d always wished she wasn''t who she was. Wished she wasn''t trapped in her body, in this world, in this life. She''d always felt like a ghost possessing her body, desperate to break free, but never willing to take the leap of faith.
All her life, she¡¯d compressed herself into a pitiful little ball. All she¡¯d ever done was rot...
Her lips curved into a painful smile as the angel''s face drew near. Rot...
She remembered that biology lesson about the human body, how it was capable of such intense strength. Untapped potential that the brain suppressed to protect the body from itself. It was how mothers moved cars or people survived falls from burning buildings. A rush of adrenaline combined with an inhibition of thought, just emotion, just action. Pain no longer part of the equation.
The angel¡¯s tongue found her nose again. Its teeth scraped her flesh, but she didn¡¯t care. Her body was broken and ruined. She was tired of rotting, but rotting was the answer.
Zombies, she thought as the angel began sucking. In zombie movies, the brain rotted away, enabling the mindless creatures to be stronger than they¡¯d ever been as humans.
It would make the pain stop. Hurting was how living beings learned, but she didn''t need to learn right now. She needed to survive. To kill. To break free.
This one bubbled up inside her. She sensed Eve¡¯s approval. The notification sent a gentle warmth radiating from the tip of her nose. It felt like receiving a kiss she¡¯d waited her entire life for.
Skill acquired:
Severed Spirit (Tier 1)
System Warning:
Severed Spirit (Tier 1) is a restricted skill.
While active, access to Energy and Skills is prohibited. The Body will begin to decay until deactivation.
30. Severed Spirit
The Wretched Angel continued sucking Jenny''s blood through her ruined nose. The lightheadedness intensified with each suck, and the taste of the creature''s spittle made her want to retch as it slobbered all over her. This time, it didn¡¯t even feel like this was happening to her. Like she¡¯d detached already. It didn¡¯t hurt. It didn¡¯t sting. And she focused on the stripes on the creature¡¯s face, particularly the long one that curved from one cheekbone to its jawline. She¡¯d lost too much blood.
It was now or never. Once she''d activated the new skill, she wouldn''t be able to access her others. She wouldn''t be able to use her Energy for anything. She¡¯d be... well, she didn¡¯t know quite how she¡¯d be, but she imagined she¡¯d turned into a zombie. She found the thought curious as much as it was exhilarating.
But first things first. Golden light flashed, making the angel pause. Jenny''s fingers closed around the now familiar firmness of her hatchet''s handle.
The creature''s eyes bulged. It held on to her arms, cocking its head, blinking. It recognized that something was amiss, but it wasn''t attacking her. Its covering turned green as the blue light filled the lab room again. Blood dribbled down its chin and onto her chest. The angel seemed out of sorts.
Its cheeks appeared flushed, darker than the rest of its face. Its body swayed on top of hers as it sniffed her shoulder to shoulder. It kept readjusting its grip on her arms. The creature was unsteady. It reminded her of her mother and stepfather after they''d had too much wine.
Was it drunk off her blood?
But there was no time to wonder about that. The other Wretched Angel was still on the ceiling, carefully reattaching the sacs that had fallen earlier. Its tendrils streamed down, hanging loose but fluttering as it worked. It hadn''t noticed anything yet.
The striped Wretched Angel stopped sniffing her. It licked its lips, sucking the bottom one clean as it stared down at her, breathing excitedly. Just as it prepared to latch its mouth onto her face again, just before the darkness that clouded her vision threatened to overwhelm her, Jenny activated her new Skill. Severed Spirit.
Like a bolt of lightning crackling through the night sky, a series of violent shocks stormed down her spine. She felt a pull in her tummy, right beneath her belly button, as though she was about to collapse in on herself. She cried out, gasping for air, spitting in the angel¡¯s face as it stared back, brows furrowed over its narrowing empty eyes.
A grin stretched her cracked lips. She ran her tongue over her gums. Her senses waned and wavered as she inhaled slowly. Her nose gurgled, but euphoria filled her chest. It didn¡¯t hurt.
Nothing hurt. It was as though a magician had snapped gloved fingers and said, Viola! All the pain... all the stinging and throbbing and aching had completely vanished. She was no longer trapped; she¡¯d set herself free from the confines of her broken body. She¡¯d cured herself of herself.
The angel''s mouth opened, as though it was about to ask a question. The edge of her hatchet flashed as her arm shot upwards, swiping at the creature''s face.
Too quickly, much more quickly than she''d intended. She thought she''d missed. The angel released her, jerking backward and tumbling over her feet and onto the floor. Its nose glistened for a second midair before bouncing off Jeny''s armor and rolling away.
Her arm had followed through on the motion, her wrist hit her shield, and she heard an ugly snap in her shoulder. Extended and bent awkwardly, her arm lay across her chest, and she winced. But there was no pain. Nothing hurt at all, and she moved the arm without an issue.
She hadn¡¯t even let go of the hatchet like she would¡¯ve if she¡¯d felt the impact of her wrist against the shield. She slid her legs off the table¡¯s side. The angel was hissing, crawling over bodies and trying to get to her, scrambling and slipping, unable to right itself. A wild exuberance made her heart pound. And it was pounding harder and faster than it had ever before, like a war drum amping up for battle.
Rolling her arm back into place she took careful steps, half afraid this was a dream, and the agony would come rushing back.
The concept of feeling itself had disappeared. Her body and mind were disconnected like some invisible layer had squeezed between her insides and her conscious self. Her body still sent signals of pain, of texture, and feeling. She knew of the humid heat that filled the room. The strange itch that crept up and down her spine. The throbbing pain in her shoulder and arm that mixed with everything else in her damaged body. But they didn''t hamper her, didn''t suffocate her.
It was like drowning in the ocean, except she could breathe the saltwater that filled her lungs and clogged her throat.
The Wretched Angel rose to its feet, swaying as it stumbled, clutching its face with one hand. It wasn''t attacking right away. Did it think she wasn''t much of a threat? Or was it actually drunk?
Jenny glanced at the ceiling again. The other one would notice soon enough, and she didn''t want to get stuck fighting both.
Bodies squished underneath her boots as she closed in on the striped angel. She kept her shield up defensively even though the angel didn''t look like it would attack, and then she swung, trying to be mindful of how much strength she put into the strike.
If there was any resistance, she didn''t feel it. Its yellow covering crackled first before her hatchet snapped through its collarbone and chest, moving diagonally down to its hip. Its arms dropped to its side as blood burst out of the gash. It lumbered forward, unsteady and trembling, hissing softly. Jenny almost felt sorry for it, but then she remembered how it had hit Oliver. How it had broken that other girl''s armor and sucked out her blood. And how it had touched Jenny.
She shoved the creature away with her shield. The top of its body separated from the bottom, and it collapsed in two heaps. Its guts splattered the floor, and Jenny wondered how much of that blood had been hers.
Its head lolled back onto Oliver''s friend, who was still lying unconscious on the pile of bodies. Its white hair covered her face. The angel¡¯s heart slid out between exposed ribs, beating grossly and glistening in the blue light, still attached by flesh and sinew.
No notification appeared.
Was it dead? It had to be... But before she could get a closer look, before she could crush its heart underneath her boot and be certain of its death, a deafening roar made her look up.
Jenny stepped back, swallowing and raising her shield defensively, eyeing the large dark Angel hanging off the ceiling by its claws. It looked like an enormous gorilla, its muscular legs swinging slightly. Its chest seemed larger than ever, and its tendrils slashed and whipped the air behind it.
Exhilaration coursed through her veins. Her heart seemed to beat even harder, the drumming in her head growing ferociously. Third time¡¯s the charm, she thought, bracing herself. This time, she would win. This time, she¡¯d fuck it up.
It dislodged from the ceiling and dropped down with a terrible crunch. Something wet and thick splattered her shield, and Jenny''s stomach turned. It had landed on the girl who''d been drained just before Jenny and was still lying on the other table. Her head was completely flattened, and the angel''s other foot had crushed her stomach. Blood and brain matter and viscera splattered all over.
Some of the spray had landed on the cocoon, casting shadows across the room. But the blood dissolved with a gentle hiss, as though being absorbed, and the light pulsed. Something wriggled inside, and for some reason, Jenny got the mental image of a baby kicking in the womb. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead and into her eye. It should''ve stung, but all she felt was the wetness, and she blinked that away, keeping her focus on the Wretched Angel.
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It crouched down and grabbed the edges of the table with its claws. Its tendrils snapped in the air as it bared its teeth and hissed. Its muscles bulged menacingly.
¡°C''mon,¡± whispered Jenny, bending her knees and bracing for impact. She wasn¡¯t sure how her body would hold up. What if it just thrashed her again and she got trapped in a rotting, completely useless prison? Could she die? But she shoved the thought away, licking sweat and blood from the corner of her lips. When the cocoon¡¯s glow faded again, the Wretched Angel attacked.
It threw itself off the table. A dark mountain rushed up to meet her, and it slashed the air, aiming for her head. Jenny ducked, one of her knees cracking loudly. The angel flew over her, its large body feeling like a plane flying too close to the ground. But its momentum drove it forward. It couldn¡¯t stop, and Jenny used that to her advantage, remembering how it had swung its arm into her face when she¡¯d tried to rush it before.
She raised her hatchet. The edge caught the angel¡¯s sternum, cutting into its black covering before catching on its flesh. She held it firmly straight into the air, screaming with rage as blood splattered her shield from above, and the creature sliced itself open down to its crotch.
It tumbled onto the table where she¡¯d been lying, landing with a thick, wet thump. Lying on its front, the creature retched violently, its legs kicking, feet inches from Jenny''s face.
She wanted to set the creature on fire. To burn it to nothing and erase every trace of its existence. Rage and vengeance and a maddening twisted pleasure struggled inside her. Before the angel could recover, Jenny stepped over a body and brought her hatchet down on one of its wriggling legs. The edge flashed through its meaty calf, and she felt a jolt when she struck bone. But the hatchet cut all the way through.
The angel let out a hideous cry as its large dark foot bounced into the pile of bodies. Thick globs of blood burst from its severed leg, spraying everywhere as the angel writhed in pain. Jenny¡¯s shoulder tingled. Her fingers were numb, but she readjusted the grip on her blood-covered hatchet and readied to strike again.
She aimed for its spine this time. If I can just paralyze it...
But with a raging roar, the Wretched Angel whirled on the table. Its guts and blood squeaked beneath its abdomen as it struck her side with a large, clawed hand.
Sparks erupted where the claws found her. Scales cracked and went flying, and Jenny was thrown back. Her feet slid on blood. She tripped over a body and flailed. Her helmet bounced off the edge of the other table and she landed on her side beside Oliver''s friend.
The cocoon glowed a few paces away, seeming even larger than before. The Desecrated Angel floated inside, seemingly undisturbed by what was happening in the lab room. But the creature seemed different. Larger with something extending from its back.
Jenny blinked repeatedly, her vision blurry. Her head spun from hitting the table, and something else caught her attention.
Oliver''s friend was awake. Her face was screwed up with pain as she tried to sit up. She flicked the dead angel''s head off her, and it rolled away, eyes staring blankly. The girl opened her mouth, shouting, but it sounded more like strained yowling. Her hand flitted up and her fingers formed shapes, but Jenny couldn''t understand what she was trying to say. And there was no chance to decipher it.
A gurgle came from the other table. The Wretched Angel had crawled over bodies, leaving behind a disgusting trail of its inside, to grab its severed foot. It bit into the foot like an apple, its teeth closing through the heel. The sounds of bone crunching reminded Jenny of their fight in the hall.
Fuck that, she thought, desperately searching for her hatchet. She couldn¡¯t give it a chance to heal. She had to act quickly.
She spotted the glinting edge when the blue light shone brightly again. Picking it up, she climbed to her feet. One leg foot was stuck in the pile of bodies. Blood ran down her side, little rivers between her scales where the angel had ripped through her armor.
Golden light enveloped the Wretched Angel, the tendrils flashing. Jenny yanked her foot free from the tangle of limbs and stomped forward. Her ankle popped. Her leg gave out, and she sank to her knees, eyes wide. But she wasn''t going to waste the movement. With a wild cry, she brought her hatchet down on the angel''s head. The edge sunk through the spiky black covering and landed with a satisfying thunk.
The golden light of its healing ability blinked out, and the angel went rigid, its back arched, and its head still raised so that its eyes stared back at her. What was left of the foot dropped from its mouth.
A distorted squeal came from its lips. Jenny stayed on one knee, staring down at the dark blood gushing down the angel¡¯s face. She knew her lungs were burning, but all she felt was a dull aching in her chest. She sucked in a deep breath, wondering if the incessant drumming of her heart would ever slow.
How long could she keep the skill active? How much agony will hit her once she turns it off?
She¡¯d need to make sure she had enough Energy for healing. Her ankle was busted, and she hadn¡¯t felt it break or anything. That almost cost her the fight. If she¡¯d tripped and fallen right into the angel¡¯s grip, it would''ve bitten through her neck instead of its foot.
But it was dead. The Wretched Angel was dead, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel relief. She¡¯d gotten her revenge. She¡¯d overcome this terrifying creature. Now all that was left was to get Oliver and the others safely to the library. She¡¯d keep Severed Spirit active till then. There was still the cocoon and all the sacs above and whatever else lay waiting outside the lab, but for now, this angel, this stupid creature that had given her so much trouble was finally dead. Now she could-
With a roar that shook the floor, the angel pushed itself up and onto Jenny, its jaws wide open.
She fell backward, her legs folding beneath her. She couldn''t tell if she was screaming or if it was the angel, but she managed to bring her shield up, jamming the edge between its teeth before it could bite her.
The angel bit down on the shield instead. Metal crunched. The edge of the shield cut into the stretched skin on the corners of its mouth. The black covering on its face cracked, spiderwebbing over its nose and cheeks. Its eyes glowered furiously, wide and bulging and bloodshot, and blood continued to gush from the wound on its forehead. Her hatchet stuck out like a horn.
Screaming and hissing, it jerked its head from side to side, trying to rip the shield away. One of its clawed hands crushed her torso. She blocked the other with her right elbow as the angel struggled, trying to claw her to bits and pieces.
Rage burned so hot in her throat, she almost thought she could breathe fire. Just fucking die. But instead of flames, she screamed back at the creature and relaxed her shield arm, just the slightest shift in force. The angel''s grip loosened, and Jenny flicked the shield.
The edge the angel was biting snapped downwards. With a sharp crack, its bottom teeth gave away, raining down on Jenny''s armor as the flat face of the shield sprung up to hit the creature in the face.
The motion knocked the hatchet deeper into its skull, and the creature slumped forward, its entire body giving out with a shudder. It landed on her shield with a heavy thump.
Jenny shoved it off. The angel was flung back onto its feet, and it stumbled backward, its body limp and askew as one of its legs was still a bloody stump. Its lower jaw hung loose, clacking against the covering of its throat, its tongue limp and bouncing. But it didn''t drop dead. It remained upright like a marionette from some nightmare.
It wailed at the top of its lungs. It swung its arms wildly, lashing out. Its claws whooshed through the air, and it turned this way and that, fighting countless invisible opponents, screaming bloody murder as it splattered everything with blood. It hobbled on its injured leg, making its entire body flail as its intestines spilled from the gash down its center. How was it not dead?
There was a motion to her left. Jenny turned to see the girl crawling forward, a knife in her hands. Jenny moved to stop her, but her legs were still folded beneath her, and she couldn¡¯t react in time.
"Wait!" cried Jenny, her voice hoarse. But the girl either ignored her or couldn''t hear anything over the Wretched Angel going berserk.
Oliver''s friend got to her knees and then jammed her knife into the angel''s hamstring as soon as it stumbled near her. It hissed and turned, swinging at the air over the girl''s ruined knight helmet. But she''d held on to the knife, spinning around the angel¡¯s body so she could climb up its back.
Jenny rolled over and straightened her legs with her arm. The Wretched Angel stumbled into the cocoon as Jenny grabbed the table and used it to stand. The girl was now on the angel''s shoulders, her legs wrapped around its hanging bottom jaw and neck. She grabbed the hatchet, using that to steady herself as she raised the knife in her other hand.
But she never got the chance to strike.
Jenny saw it happen almost before it did. As though time had slowed and bent inward on itself. The Wretched Angel''s claws found the cocoon. The blue skin-like casing tore open, and light blossomed into a blinding display, brighter than anything she''d ever seen before.
A jolt went through the floor, shattering every window and every light bulb overhead. Sacs rained down from the ceiling. A few bounced off Jenny''s helmet and shoulders.
There was a momentary pause, as though the entire world was choking on its breath. Jenny turned, trying desperately to find the spot where Oliver was unconscious. Dread seemed to condense inside her chest; she had to get away. She had to get Oliver as far away as possible from this thing.
The floor beneath her feet gave way. A terrible scream shuddered through everything around her, and for a blistering second, the bodies, the Wretched Angel, the bursting cocoon, and the girl seemed suspended in midair. Then everything went crashing down.
31. Valescent Light (Susan)
The Wretched Angel''s teeth clacked in Susan''s face, blood spurting from its mouth. She jammed her cattle prod into its empty eye socket, screaming as it collapsed on top of her. Something squished against the tip of her prod, and she let loose.
Lightning surged through the creature''s orange head and burst from the back of its skull. Dr. Lee and Mrs. Monique dropped to the floor as bolts of lightning snapped and crackled over them to strike the library''s ceiling over and over.
The lightning flickered and flashed. The angel writhed uncontrollably like it was having a seizure, its single arm flopping. Its palm bounced off Susan''s chest and chin, but it had no fingers to claw her with.
She didn¡¯t stop until she was out of stamina. Susan lay on her back, breathing hard. Her nose was bleeding, streaming down her lips. Her cattle prod was still inside the angel''s head, and the creature lay on top of her thighs unmoving, blood and drool staining her pants. Smoke rose from it. Its hair was sizzled and sticking out. Strange vein-like patterns distorted the orange covering on its face and head, and the stench of burnt flesh stung her nose.
She was barely aware of the others around her. She couldn''t look away from the top of the angel''s head. But notifications burst through her spinning thoughts:
You''ve defeated Wretched Angel (Level 10)
Experience has been awarded!
+50 Energy
Leveled up!
Susan Brown Level 9 -> Level 10
Ranking Bonus! Stage i -> Stage ii
Congratulations on breaching the first threshold!
+30 Stat Ponts have been awarded
+1 Energy Core has been awarded
A new Skill has activated: Valescent Light (Tier 1)
She couldn''t focus on any of them, only catching a few details. The words didn¡¯t register in her mind. She saw Dr. Lee and Mrs. Monique crouched, a hand over their heads, staring wide-eyed.
Leslie was on the floor too. She''d collapsed to her knees, shaking, and she looked at Susan as though she were an angel too.
Susan wanted to apologize, but how was she supposed to apologize for nearly frying them with her lightning? She hadn''t meant to put so much into the attack, but she''d flashbacked to the two Wretched Angels from the hallway. And the one before, in front of the boy''s bathroom, that had bitten through her leg. She shuddered and yanked her cattle prod out of the eye socket.
The prod came away glistening, strands of mucus stretching from the creature''s orange head. The burnt hair crumpled away, leaving it bald, revealing more of the flowery and veiny pattern burned into its covering.
Its head bounced down her lap as she squirmed back, trying to slide out from underneath it. The angel twitched.
Leslie screamed; Susan flicked her prod back on. It buzzed in her hand. Her heart thumped like mad. She knew she didn''t have the strength for any more lightning, but she could still paralyze it. Or she''d jam it into its head over and over until its brain was mush.
She was just about to strike the creature when it raised its head, blood dribbling down its chin. Her hand froze midair. The angel hissed softly, almost gently, and Susan looked into its eye. It wasn''t vacant whiteness anymore. Instead, an orange pupil stared back, wide and frightened. A new notification accompanied it:
Angel (stage ii) (level 10)
The prod buzzed. Her hand trembling as the angel blinked. It hissed again, the pitch adjusting slightly, and now it sounded more like a snake. Its tongue flickered underneath its top teeth, and its jaws moved as it let out a series of breaths and gasps and shushes.
Susan remembered the old-fashioned radio her father kept in his study. The angel sounded a lot like that crackling box as her father turned dials and tried to find specific signals. She wondered if the creature was trying to communicate.
It raised its one arm, its hand shaking as it stared at the missing fingers. Its lips contorted as it moaned softly.
Susan didn''t realize she was holding her breath till Dr. Lee shouted, "Stop!"
The angel whipped its head around to the source of the sound, blinking repeatedly as though it had just woken up or emerged from a cave. Light illuminated the corner of the library from where the flashlight had rolled earlier, and several other students wandered over, some of them holding weapons, all of them terrified.
Dr. Lee had grabbed Mrs. Monique''s spear. She had the tip pointed straight at the angel''s neck.
"Why are you stopping me?" said Mrs. Monique through gritted teeth. Her arms shook with rage. Her metallic armor shone brilliantly in the light.
Despite bleeding from his arm, Dr. Lee held the spear firmly, refusing to let her attack. The sleeve of his lab coat was soaked red. His goggles were askew, but Susan spotted the frenzied look of excitement on his face.
"Can''t you see?" he asked, his voice higher with excitement. His lips twitched and he licked them. "It was the electricity. Electricity did something to its brain. This is magnificent!"
The angel rolled off Susan''s lap and collapsed on the floor, touching the shoulder of its missing left arm with a hand that had no fingers. The once exposed flesh and bone were now covered by a thick layer of orange covering. Its chest and navel were uncovered, revealing brown skin and female anatomy, but if it had a sense of shame, Susan couldn''t tell. Its legs were spread, and it stared at the scorch marks on the ceiling, gently hissing. Its one eye seemed to water.
Light moved. Leslie had picked up the fallen flashlight and was shining it on the angel, making the orange covering glisten vibrantly. But the creature didn''t scream or hiss or try to cover its eyes. It squinted back, and Susan saw tears streaming down the side of its head.
"Why''s it different?" asked Leslie, staring at the creature. It blinked back, its orange eye darting from her to Dr. Lee to the tip of the spear then back to Susan.
Nobody addressed Alan''s body, the boy whose neck the angel had bitten through once it broke free. Susan knew he was dead because no notification came up for him anymore.
She felt a pang of pity. He''d been terrified, and now he was dead. She had to remind herself to breathe again, her heart racing like mad as the others stepped cautiously closer. She was still holding her cattle prod; it buzzed in her shaking hand, but she didn¡¯t know what to do.
The angel showed no sign of aggression. It wasn''t trying to grab her or bite her, but the sight of its blood-covered chin set her teeth on edge. That¡¯s Alan¡¯s blood. She almost agreed with Mrs. Monique. They should kill it and get it over with before it changed its mind and attacked again.
It was just lying there, hissing sporadically, its chest quaking as it spat up blood. Its face was covered in that strange dark pattern, and Susan recognized it as what happened to people struck by lightning. The dark tattoo-like marking that became a permanent reminder.
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Dr. Lee released Mrs. Monique''s spear, his hands hovering in case she went for the attack. But she shook her head and stepped back, looking frustrated. He turned toward Susan and the angel, gesturing for Susan to move out of the way.
Leslie helped Susan up, muttering an apology for throwing the phone. Susan sniffled blood but didn''t respond. She leaned on Leslie, and they hobbled away from the angel. It watched them go, blinking slowly, and it hissed softly again. She got the eerie sense it was saying goodbye.
Dr. Lee picked up his phone, inspected it quickly, then flashed a huge grin. "It''s still recording." Holding his bleeding arm to his chest where the red soaked the front of his lab coat, he continued recording with his free hand, narrating:
"And here we can see the specimen has transformed. We saw earlier examples of Wretched Angels, but they lacked pupils and were extremely sensitive to light. This one..."
He paused and turned the phone onto Susan who was leaning against Leslie. She still had the flashlight aimed at the angel.
"Move the light," barked Dr. Lee roughly under his breath. He looked angry and impatient.
Leslie''s hand shook, making the light tremble, but she turned it to the floor, a hurt look on her face. Mrs. Monique sighed heavily and then walked over to Alan''s body, crouching down to close his eyes.
"Now," continued Dr. Lee, his face relaxing. "Susan. Would you mind explaining..." but he trailed off. He squinted at her, lowered the phone and removed his goggles, and blinked.
Susan¡¯s throat went dry. Dr. Lee was staring the same way he''d stared at the Wretched Angel on the table and was preparing to slice into it.
"What is it?" asked Leslie, looking from the biology teacher to Susan and back. Then she paused, releasing Susan''s arm and stumbling backward, shining the light on Susan''s face. She rambled incoherently, but Dr. Lee''s voice drowned Leslie out.
"You''re human (stage ii) now... That''s what it says." He spoke slowly, his voice low, as though he was processing the information as he spoke it. He let the goggles drop to the floor and his lips curled into an almost sinister smile. "Human (stage ii)," he repeated. "So, my hypothesis was correct. Jenny had a similar notification, but she''d left in such a hurry, and this was all so new to me that I couldn''t be sure."
"What are you talking about?" whispered Leslie. She was sweating even more now, and trembling. "Is she a monster too?"
Susan shook her head, her insides tightening at those words. "I don''t know what this is. It just happened after that thing..." She nodded toward the angel. It had stopped crying and was following each of them as they spoke, its eye now focused on Susan.
"But this is everything!" said Dr. Lee breathlessly as he shoved the phone near Susan''s face, as though recording her bleeding nose would give him new insight. "It means we can evolve too. Grow stronger like the angels and become... more. Think of the possibilities! The next stage in Human evolution after millions of years... we just need to harvest more Energy..." His voice trailed off again, and he moved the camera back toward the angel. "I wonder..."
Susan bit the inside of her cheek, discomfort making her stiff. But thankfully, that was when Mrs. Monique returned.
Mrs. Monique stood back, holding her spear with both hands, the tip pointed forward. She glared furiously with one eye. It was almost strange how her face and the angel''s mirrored one another. Both missing an eye. Both unfamiliar.
"We should kill it," said Mrs. Monique firmly. Her voice was cruel and cold. The friendly librarian who was always cheerful and vibrant and sweet had vanished. Replaced now by a tired soldier, holding her spear, her entire body bristling to murder. "It was a mistake dragging that thing in here, and now Alan is dead."
There was a practiced ease to it that unnerved Susan. As though somehow Mrs. Monique wasn''t unfamiliar with violent situations. And it dawned on her that Mrs. Monique had risen to the Survival Challenge and fought off several angels already to survive. She¡¯d saved Susan and Jenny from the two Wretched Angels. How many others would jump into that kind of situation to help? Susan realized she didn''t know a thing about the librarian beyond her friendly facade.
Dr. Lee shook his head. "It hasn''t attacked anyone since Susan shot electricity through its brain. No signs of aggression. It seems more like a curious animal now." He paused to turn the phone back on Susan. "That was a mighty fine display, by the way. How did you do that with your weapon?"
"I''m not sure," said Susan. She wanted to step away and sort through her thoughts. Not answer a barrage of Dr. Lee''s questions. "But I need to sit down. I feel lightheaded."
"Drained like a battery, I suppose..." said Dr. Lee under his breath, his face falling slightly. She got the sense they were wondering the same thing: if they could use electricity to alter the brains of other angels. Turn them into harmless things like this one.
But what had it been altered to? Why did it suddenly have pupils? Why did its name change? She wanted Jenny to see this. She wanted to know Jenny¡¯s thoughts on this.
With a heavy sigh, Dr. Lee knelt, bringing the phone closer to the angel. Its orange eye watched him with great interest, and it hissed again as though speaking, whistling through the gap in its teeth.
He began to narrate:
"Our brains send signals via electricity. They travel from neuron to neuron and conduct the processes of our central nervous systems. Susan''s attack must have supercharged the brain. I only wish we could have recorded the visuals." He said this part gruffly with a hint of annoyance that made Leslie click her tongue. "I wonder if the angel''s strengthened form enabled it to survive the trauma, though its skin... is that actually skin? Exhibits the tell-tale scarring of lightning victims..." He was speaking too quickly for Susan to understand properly, but the little bits that reached her sent her thoughts spinning.
Were the angels just like humans then? Trapped in this nightmare?
*****************
Susan sat near the entrance again, leaning against the Librarian''s desk, her eyes shut. She listened for any sign of Jenny outside, half hoping her best friend would return and bang on the doors to be let inside.
Mrs. Monique had walked her over and then returned to Dr. Lee¡¯s side. She was ready to kill the angel as soon as she could, but it still hadn''t done anything other than hiss, repeating the same pattern of shushing and gasping. But nobody could decipher what it wanted.
Leslie stayed with Dr. Lee, holding his phone and recording as he made observations and tried to understand. The other students had moved Alan''s body and covered it with a cloth. Several of them wept.
Sitting away from them, Susan wasn''t sure how much time had gone by since Jenny left. She didn''t want to check. Even then, she wasn''t sure if the time displayed on anyone''s phones would have any meaning when they weren''t on Earth. But the reason she didn''t want to check was cowardice. She didn''t want to know how long Jenny had been out there alone. Guilt constricted her heart.
She kept picturing angels swarming Jenny and ripping her apart and... Susan sucked in a deep breath. Worrying wouldn''t help. And she was human (stage ii). Just as Jenny had been when she left. She had a bunch of status points to apply and... she remembered the Skill.
Skill... what did that even mean? Was it the same way her cattle prod gained an ability when it reached tier 2? She focused on the thought and brought up the notification.
Valescent Light (Tier 1)
Generate purifying light. Draws heavily on Stamina to maintain.
She held the notification in her head, repeating it over and over, trying to understand it as clearly as possible. Generate... a purifying light? Did that mean an ability to heal? She wouldn¡¯t have to spend Energy on potions anymore?
She focused again, holding up her hand. She pushed her consciousness to focus on her fingertips, and she could feel her blood pounding through her veins. Furrowing her brows and concentrating hard, she kept thinking Valescent Light as hard as she could.
Then, just when she thought she might pass out from thinking so hard, a shudder traveled up her arm, and a little sphere of warm silvery light flickered into being at her fingertip. A strange sensation tingled across her skin. She felt a slight drain, as though the ball of light pulled on something from her chest to remain lit.
She felt the urge to press the light into her wounded leg. It was strange, but the light felt like an extension of herself. As though her deepest wish had materialized. She trusted her instinct and pressed the light to her ruined flesh.
An immense tug nearly overwhelmed her thoughts. Nausea threatened to make her retch. Her head spun. But the ball of light slipped into her wound and burst into brilliance.
Her jaw dropped as the searing pain vanished. The light, shining with every color of the rainbow, turned into strands, stretching up and down the ruined part of her leg. She saw blue and purple strands intertwining with white. She saw reds weaving in between and around. She saw greens and yellows and vivid oranges. The colorful strands seemed almost jelly-like, almost like the way the angel''s orange covering had burst from its spine earlier. It connected one end of her wound to the other and solidified slowly, the glow fading away to reveal brand new flesh, pink and softer than the surrounding skin.
She touched it tenderly, her eyes widening with disbelief. But the pain was gone. Her leg didn''t burn. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she realized she could restore Jenny''s fingers.
She wiped her face, excitement making her heart go wild. She wanted to scream with joy. Though she wondered how far the skill would go. How much could she actually heal? And she was exhausted. She would definitely need to increase her stamina. Using it had drained her, much more so than using the lightning did. But once she figured this skill out, once she increased her stats and prepared herself... maybe this was what they needed. If she could heal herself and Jenny, they could spend their Energy on more things than just healing.
She forced herself to take a deep breath. Partially because she needed to; she felt like she''d just run for hours and hours. But also because she needed to calm down. This could be big. Maybe she could convince Mrs. Monique to help her. They could go find Jenny and maybe together, with this, they¡¯d all have a fighting chance.
She remembered she''d gotten a bunch of points after she''d reached stage ii. But before she could pull up her stats, a shockwave rumbled through the walls and windows of the library with such force that several people screamed. It felt like another earthquake.
Susan''s heart leaped into her throat, and she looked up just in time to see the barricade come crashing down with a thunderous roar.
32. A Circular Steel Rod
A circular steel rod, roughly an inch in diameter and corrugated so that her blood glistened down its spiraling ridges, jutted out from her stomach. Jenny felt a sharp sensation in her lower right side. It reminded her of the random stabbing pains she used to get, wondering if it was finally appendicitis, but then it would turn out to be trapped gas in her intestines. It was seriously odd, sensing pain without feeling pain.
She coughed up blood then rested her head back on the concrete slab she''d fallen on. Her feet hung off the edge, touching the tiles of the first-floor physics lab room. She was caked in dust, stuck to the slab, but at least it didn''t hurt.
The sensation of her flesh around the rod was weirding her out. She knew if it weren''t for Severed Soul, she''d be dead. She might''ve passed out from the blood loss or pain, and she wondered now if that would''ve been better than this.
"Fuck," she whispered. Dust rose and spun all around her. She jostled slightly, felt her insides squish grossly, then gave up. About two feet of rod stuck out of her. She had to rip through her side to escape or climb up the entire thing and slide off. Her shield clanged uselessly against the slab.
She thought she¡¯d dropped somewhere near the back of the room, but it was difficult to tell with all the rubble piled around. The physics lab was buried. The windows had shattered, and the swirling mistiness of the veil floated inside. Its ghostly light shone through the clouds of dust.
Flashes of what happened kept popping up. The cocoon had exploded. She''d seen the floor give away. Saw the sacs tumbling around like enormous pieces of fleshy hail. The ceiling above had caved in.
Exposed pipes and rods and cement. The bodies that the angels had piled up fell like clumps of mud, their limbs and heads knocking into things. She''d glimpsed the girl and the black Wretched Angel, her hatchet still stuck to its head. But she hadn''t seen what emerged from the cocoon, or if anything emerged at all. All she''d done was fall, trying to shield herself from chaos.
When she landed, there''d been a strange pressure in her back, and she''d seen the rod emerge from her insides, almost in slow motion. Her blood sprayed all over, and the thing kept extending until she slammed against the slab with an unceremonious clang.
She struggled again, grasping the rod with her right hand, trying to drag herself up its length. But no matter how hard she squeezed or how much she strained, she couldn''t move more than a few inches off the slab before her arm gave out, and she slid back down, frustrated. But without clear messages of pain, she was terrified of ripping her arm out of its socket. She didn¡¯t want her only arm with fingers still attached to be useless.
This was stupid. What bugged her the most was that she hadn''t seen Oliver. Did he get dropped down too? Was he crushed under the rubble? Or was he still up there? She wasn''t sure what the radius of the cocoon''s blast had been. But there''d been other kids with him too. Jenny hoped they''d woken up and were working on getting themselves and Oliver out, even if they didn''t manage to get to her.
She laughed. Fucking hell. No, it would be stupid to give up now. Her body literally could not die until she disabled the skill. All she had to do was get out of this, kill a bunch of angels, and then.... and then... She remembered how she''d poured the potion onto Susan''s injured leg. Okay, so she wouldn''t have to feel any pain. She could get someone to heal her body, and disable the skill, then she''d be just fine.
She grabbed the rod again and pulled, sliding a bit upward, wishing she could use both hands.
She got a bit further up, heard a pop in her arm, and stopped. There was still so much of the rod left to go. Her boots kicked at loose rubble, trying to find some footing to prop herself up, but something fleshy and soft gave away beneath her heel and she stopped.
Exasperated, she slid back down the rod to rest and slammed her shield into the concrete slab. Then she did it again and again, not caring that the sound was ringing out all over the ruined lab room.
Either she''d break the slab and free herself with the rod still inside her or someone would hear her and come help. Or something else might find her... she used as much force as she could, picturing an angel devouring her while she was stuck here. Picturing the metallic and creepy Desecrated Angel she''d seen in the cocoon, its blue eyes... its teeth chewing through her face while it smiled at her.
She didn''t have her hatchet; she couldn''t summon it. But she figured she could smash any angel''s face in with the shield. Or grab onto them somehow and use their bodies to pull herself out. Or worst-case scenario, force them onto the rod as well, skewering them so she could take a few more of these assholes down to hell with her.
If it meant a bunch of angels would be distracted, then she would happily be a diversion while the others got out of the rubble. If they were alive...
She heard a crack beneath her, but the slab wouldn''t give. She couldn''t get the right angle. She didn''t stop until she heard something wet. Something squishy. As though a bowl of pudding had hit the floor.
Then she heard a giggle.
She turned her head. The sound had come from her right where a pile of rubble formed a mountain over one of the physics lab room tables. Crushed bodies lay between them. An arm stuck out, almost as though it were reaching for her.
Then she saw what was making the sound. It was a pudgy baby crawling on all fours, its big head bobbing as its eyes wandered, an almost curious innocence shining in them. It wasn''t like the angels'' eyes. These weren''t white and vacant; they had irises. Pupils. Large dark circles that moved until they spotted Jenny and paused.
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The baby''s face lit up. Gooey liquid trailed from its skin as it crawled over the debris. Dust clung to it. It tumbled and rolled, and Jenny almost wanted to shout for it to be careful. To not move. That she''d somehow get to it and help. But it paused to sniff one of the crushed bodies, and she saw several more babies wriggling around.
The first baby came up to her. Its palms struck the rubble, making fleshy sounds that Jenny thought would hurt, but the baby didn''t seem to mind. Wet-looking black hair was stuck to its head. It must''ve just emerged from a sac. It was newly born, but it wasn''t tiny like human infants. And it was already crawling, something human babies didn¡¯t do for like a year after birth.
She couldn''t tell if it had emerged like this or if it was growing at an accelerated rate. And without the Guidance System, she couldn''t be certain of what it was. The eyes threw her off; they seemed too much like human babies. She remembered what Eve had said about the sacs having to be blooded and wondered if that led to accelerated growth. Was that a way to ensure the infant would survive?
The baby crawled up to her, its chubby cheeks jiggling, its brows furrowed in concentration. It stopped by her boots and looked up with those large curious eyes. They were brown like Jenny''s and full of life. A gurgle of laughter bubbled through its lips with spittle.
She almost thought it was cute. Almost. Cause right after clapping its hands, it slapped both palms down on the floor and lowered its button nose to where her blood had dribbled down her legs and pooled. It slurped.
"What the fuck?" whispered Jenny, her tongue moving awkwardly over her gums. She couldn''t look away from the little creature; it almost seemed like it was nursing. Then she noticed the others wriggling toward them. They weren''t as focused, and they paused to wiggle loose rocks and chew on loose limbs.
But they didn''t have teeth. They couldn''t rip into any of the flesh. The babies gurgled and giggled. One of them screeched. It was trying to bite into that arm sticking out from the rubble, the fingers unharmed between the baby''s gums. It tried to grab the arm, reposition, and when it still couldn''t bite through the fingers, the baby screeched again.
Following its lead, others started to cry too, wailing at the top of their lungs. It was like being in some demented nursery, except she was trapped, bleeding out, and one of them was drinking her blood off the floor.
Guilt panged inside her. A twisting knot in her stomach that she thought she shouldn''t have been able to feel, but it was still there. She thought about the sacs she set aflame in the stairwell on her way to the second floor. Thought about burning the female Wretched Angel to ashes and bone and remembered the little skeleton she''d found in the larger angel¡¯s embrace.
She''d consoled herself thinking that whatever was in those sacs were probably just as twisted and horrifying as the angels. But these babies, despite their cannibalistic instincts, seemed so... innocent. On top of that, they had eyes. Eyes that searched the rubble, spotted her, and lit up as though they''d found their mother in a crowd of people.
She wanted to throw up again. She''d never wanted any children, and now she swore if she got out of this, she''d have her uterus ripped from her body. Some part of her would always be terrified of pushing out a horror baby.
Swearing under her breath as the babies crawled over to her, Jenny grabbed the furthest part of the rod she could reach. She had an idea. She inhaled deeply, positioning her boots beneath her, raising her hips slightly and arching her back. She was distorting her body quite a bit, and she tried not to think about how much this should hurt. Her right ankle was twisted and useless, but if she could just generate enough force, this could work.
Squeezing the rod, she pushed her feet against the slab, a cry of frustration escaping her. She paused after sliding up more than she''d managed before, exhilaration fluttering through her head. She glanced at the baby. It had stopped drinking blood and now sat back on its little butt, sitting and watching. It clapped its hands together, a wide smile on its face as Jenny struggled. The other babies drew closer, some on all fours, some sitting, all of them watching her with great interest.
She adjusted her feet and slid her hand up the rod. It was slick already with blood, and now her fingers and palm were bleeding too as the corrugated ridges cut her skin. Her insides squeaked and squished as she pushed off again with her feet, the angle of her body changing as now she was almost upright.
At one point, she almost let go and fell back. But she smashed her shield into the slab and used that as a crutch to hold on. Her body was out of breath, and even though she couldn''t feel the pain or the struggle, she relaxed her shoulder for a second, squeezing the rod as hard as she could with her hand while she inhaled a lungful of dust.
"Stupid baby," she whispered, but without teeth, her voice sounded so stupid to her. She laughed, realizing she was missing teeth just like the angel babies. It was a gross, ugly laugh of desperation, exhaustion, and frustration. Her body was nearly all the way up the rod, her shield arm stuck behind her. It was such an absurd situation.
Gathering her strength once again, she kept going. Pulling with her hand, pushing with her legs and shield. Her insides shifted the further she climbed. At the tip, she quickly adjusted her right hand, letting go to grab the rod from behind. Her shoulders cracked, but this way, it was impossible for her to slide back.
She screamed for the last bit. Her insides struggled to let go, but as soon as she pushed herself off, she stumbled forward and fell right next to the first baby. Her helmet clanged against a piece of rubble. The breeze and dust teased her insides. That couldn''t be good... but what was she supposed to do now?
She wished she could use Ignite at least. Use fire to close the wound. At least nothing really hurt, and she pulled herself back up. She turned to face the slab. It was covered in her blood and the rod stuck out like it was beckoning.
The babies watched as she hobbled back. Her right foot bent uselessly, and she stumbled again but caught her herself by grabbing the rod. The first baby''s lips opened, and it made a soft cooing sound, drooling.
Jenny licked her lips. She was a mess. But that wasn''t new at this point. She''d managed to free herself from impalement, and that was an immense win as far as she was concerned. The babies hadn''t tried to eat her; nothing had come sniffing her out. But there had to be other things out there. That Desecrated Angel for starters... Where was it? What was it doing?
She pushed the rod forward, bending it near the base. Groaning, she adjusted her grip and pulled it back. Then she repeated the motion several times, the rod squeaking and stretching at the bend, and she relished her increased power as it snapped off cleanly. She had secured a makeshift weapon until she found her hatchet.
She held the rod, using it like a cane, hunched over and drooling as she bled profusely. What happens when I run out?
The other babies wandered around her. Some of them sniffled, sucking their thumbs, or inspecting the blood on the floor. Her shield arm dangled loosely as she wondered what to do about the little creatures.
I could kill them and take their Energy.
33. Crawling Over the Rubble
Would the babies give more Energy than the sacs did in the stairwell? After all, they were birthed already and crawling about. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her body was falling apart, she had to be very nearly without blood. Her heartbeat felt faint, and the gurgling babies wouldn''t stop staring at her. What if she ate them?
She looked down at the first one and shuddered from that intrusive thought. Its eyes searched her own as it sucked on its bloody thumb. The sucking sound reminded her of the Wretched Angel earlier with stripes, its lips fastened to her crushed nose, and she grimaced. She raised the rod, swaying on her feet. She held it as though she was fishing. She could plunge it into the little creature''s tummy, and it would be over.
Do it... just kill it. Take the Energy. You''re going to need so much to heal yourself. And it''s going to turn into a Tarnished Angel anyways. It would just mean more enemies to fight later.
But still, her arm shook. The baby blinked back, completely unphased by the steel rod. It didn''t have the empty eyes of the angels she''d fought already, and even though these things liked blood... no, she couldn''t do it. They seemed much more alive and innocent. She''d wait. She''d wait for it to turn into a Tarnished Angel and then she''d shove the rod through their throats. Besides, that way, she''d get more Energy. Guilt-free.
Blood gushed from the gaping wound in her side. She tasted blood in her mouth, and it dribbled down her chin. She stepped around the kids, using the rod as a crude walking stick to rest her weight on. Her right foot was nearly useless. She couldn''t put too much weight on it without her knee buckling, and it was irritating her despite the lack of pain. She had to hurry.
Two of the babies crawled after the bloody trail she was leaving in her wake. She scanned the bodies on the floor, trying to find Oliver or the girl or any of the others who''d been up there. It bothered her that they''d all been unconscious or nearly dead. What had the angels done to them?
Jenny inspected her surroundings. The tables of the physics lab weren''t as large, and they didn''t have sinks or ventilating stations. But the tables from the chem lab were strewn about. Some were nearly vertical, crushing things underneath their weight. Some upside down. But everything was covered in chunks of the ceiling and tons of dust. Bodies were crushed all around her, and between them, were more sacs. Each one glistened like a giant grape; most of them were torn open and flat.
She stepped over mangled bodies. Naked angels and clothed corpses alike. She stepped on fingers accidentally. Crushed limbs. She grimaced whenever something squished. She wondered if anyone was down here when the explosion collapsed everything. If anyone was hiding or dying here.
More babies joined the parade behind her, and she felt like a mother duck, hobbling, falling apart, and leading little blood-thirsty ducklings. Why were they so adamant about following her?
Her head felt heavy. Like it was about to roll off her shoulders any moment now. She almost wanted to remove her helmet and let her sweaty hair cool down, but if anything else fell from above, she didn''t want her skull cracked open.
She knew her body couldn''t take much more, but she couldn''t turn off Severed Spirit without ensuring she could heal. Oliver or one of the others could make something. Or she just had to hurry up and find him and get back to the library. People there had Energy to spare. She focused on that thought, of getting back to Susan. Then she could figure out what to do next. She was sure that once she was back with her, it would be alright.
Even though she felt like a zombie, her cheeks still flushed with a strange warmth at the thought of Susan. Jenny licked her ruined gums wondering how her best friend would react to this messed-up body.
Feeling warmer and more alive, Jenny surveyed the exposed pipes, bodies, and rubble, squinting hard at everything, blinking dust from her eyelashes. She imagined other angels were on their way, attracted to all the noise of the explosion. And where was that Desecrated Angel? What was it doing? Was it stalking her through the dust-ridden gloom?
Then she heard coughing and froze, ready to fight. Something bumped into the back of her boots. Jenny whirled around, stumbling as she raised her shield, ready to plunge the rod into whatever it was.
But it was only one of the babies, touching her feet and staring up at her, drooling spittle, as though it wanted to be picked up.
She fought the urge to kick it away. There was another cough, and something shifted and clattered. A large chunk of cement jostled loose off a table and crashed to the floor, and the girl from before emerged through the cloud of rising dust. Fresh blood dripped from her knife. Dust caked her face and her ruined helmet.
The girl paused, her other hand resting on that chunk of cement, staring at Jenny. Her eyes went wide. She glanced down at the babies and then back at Jenny, as though putting 2 and 2 together.
But before Jenny could say anything, the girl lunged forward with a blood-curdling scream, kicking up loose rocks and debris in her wake.
Jenny blocked the knife with her shield. The impact drew up sparks, and she knocked the girl''s arm away. She didn''t attack with the rod, even though it would''ve been easy to jam it into the girl''s exposed chest. Instead, she stepped back, shouting, "Wait!"
The girl wasn''t listening. She yowled, a throaty angry cry, as she circled Jenny, not caring about the limbs crushed beneath her feet. Her armor looked a lot like a knight''s, with layers of metal. But it was thinner and didn''t clink and didn¡¯t seem stiffly uncomfortable like traditional knight''s armor. Her helmet was cracked and broken, and the dark gray metal of her suit was scuffed and crumpled in several places, but Jenny thought it still looked very badass.
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"Look," Jenny tried again, painfully aware of how stupid she sounded without enough front teeth. "I''m not gonna hurt you. I don''t want to fight." Her words felt bubbly and too soft, consonants not forming properly, but she spoke slowly.
The girl spat and said something too, but just like Jenny''s words, her voice seemed oddly shaped. A mixture of yowling and groaning, the syllables only somewhat recognizable. And as she spoke, her free hand went up, fingers forming shapes and patterns that Jenny recognized as American Sign Language. The girl was deaf.
Jenny lowered her shield in disbelief. A deaf girl had survived this long and was this strong? Though if Jenny hadn''t arrived when she did, the girl would''ve been sacrificed for the cocoon. But still. Jenny had so many questions, wondering if the girl had a hearing aid. If her deafness was why Oliver was so protective of her. If she had a skill that would make up for it.
She dropped her rod. It clattered loudly on the rubble, and the babies crawled over to inspect it. Jenny didn''t know ASL, but she knew the universal sign for I don''t want to fight. She raised both hands, exposing her palms, showing the girl the missing fingers of her shield hand.
I''m not going to fight you, mouthed Jenny slowly, hoping the girl could read her lips.
It seemed to work. The girl lowered her knife, glancing at the rod and then back at Jenny. Her fingers moved in a fresh flurry of anger; the pointer thrust at Jenny as though accusing her of something.
But Jenny didn''t care. She just wanted to pick the rod up and lean on it again. Slowly, she squatted down, wincing at how her insides gushed and splattered the floor with blood. That shut the girl up.
The girl made a new motion, slower this time and trying to voice her words. Each word was elongated, a guttural grunt between them. "Are... you... okay?"
Jenny shook her head, grimacing as her fingers curled around the rod. She thrust the end into the floor and pushed herself back to a standing position. The babies all gurgled excitedly at the new blood, and some of them began to lick the rubble. She almost told them off. It was dangerous for babies to lick random things, especially covered in dust and grime. But then she remembered what they were.
The girl was still trying to talk to her. "Why...are.. you..." she paused to take a breath, her hand curling in frustration. She pointed her fingers at her own eyes and then at Jenny''s. "Tar...nished...Human."
A chill spread across Jenny''s chest that had nothing to do with the sensation of cold. It was like her heart had turned to cement. Tarnished Human? She blinked several times, desperately trying to contact the Guidance System or Eve.
What the fuck? If she''d become a Tarnished Human... was she just like the angels? But how? Why?
Did severing herself from her body change... she had the sudden desire to check her eyes. The girl had pointed to her eyes. Had Jenny''s become empty and white? Her heart pounded hard and fast, increasing the amount of blood flowing down her leg to the babies'' delight.
But before Jenny could ruminate on that horrible thought more, the floor shook. Debris rattled. Sounds came from behind the girl, but she didn''t notice. She stepped closer to Jenny, cautiously, her knife hand trembling. Three figures emerged behind her, each one of them hissing and rushing toward them.
Jenny raised the rod, wishing she had her hatchet. There was no time to worry about her status. The girl saw the shift in Jenny''s stance and raised her arms in a defensive stance as Jenny hurled the rod like a lance, mimicking Vital Throw.
The girl yelped. The rod rushed past her side and caught one of the angels in the chest. The creature was knocked backward off its feet, screaming as the rod burst through its body.
It collapsed on its back, the rod keeping its body raised off the ground as it struggled uselessly, its dark green covering cracked open. It screeched, and the babies responded to the sound, screaming in unison.
The girl had turned to face the other two. She threw her knife at the nearest one. The blade plunged into the creature''s throat. It dropped to its knees, trying to grab the handle and wrench it out. But the girl was already on the move. She rushed over the rubble, moving light as a feather, and golden light flashed midleap as she jumped toward the third angel. The knife reappeared in her hands. She brought the angel to the floor, its head cracking loudly as she stabbed it over and over, making mincemeat of its silvery covering as blood spurted out.
Jenny kicked off an angel baby that had been screaming and clinging to her leg. It landed on its butt, surprise on its pudgy little face, but she didn''t care. She limped over and grabbed the rod, staring down at the Wretched Angel impaled on it.
It hissed faintly; its hands wrapped around the rod protruding from its chest. Yeah, she thought, stepping on its face, its teeth clacking uselessly against her heel. Try pulling yourself out of it. Then, using the rod to support her weight, she stomped down, and the creature¡¯s face crunched underneath.
When she was satisfied it was dead, she yanked the rod out of its chest. The babies had followed her, and they got to work on the angel''s corpse as though Jenny really was their mother and had led them to a meal. She watched in twisted horror as they chewed through the dark green covering and bit into flesh. They had teeth now, she realized. They were growing rapidly.
One crawled over to the crushed skull and began eating. The bones of the creature''s face cracked and snapped between the baby''s teeth. It slurped up brain matter, and that was all Jenny could bear to watch.
The other girl seemed repulsed as well. Her fingers formed words. She shook her head but didn''t try to speak again. A sense of comradery had blossomed between Jenny and the girl now that they''d fought off angels together. And she even had a similar recalling skill for her weapon. Though Jenny couldn''t help but wonder what the girl''s other Skills might be since she was also a human (stage ii).
Then Jenny heard a shout. A clearly human shout, strained with desperation. "Help!"
Jenny perked up, trying to discern the direction it came from. It sounded like a boy, but she couldn''t be sure if it was Oliver or not. The girl sensed Jenny had heard something, and she turned this way and that, probably assuming more enemies were approaching.
The babies wriggled. Another tried to crawl up Jenny''s leg, but she shook it off. Then the shout came again.
"Is anyone there? Please, we need-"
It ended abruptly, like someone was in excruciating pain. But Jenny''s hopes faltered. It wasn''t Oliver. But the voice was full of desperation. Whoever they were, they needed serious help and were willing to risk drawing the attention of angels to do so.
Either that or angels were already upon them.
34. A Cry for Help
Jenny pointed in the direction the shouting had come from with her shield. ¡°Someone¡¯s there,¡± she said.
The girl nodded and went ahead, moving lithely as she stepped over rubble and climbed over a table, her knife at the ready.
Still using her rod like a walking stick, Jenny followed as quickly as she could. She hobbled around the table and smashed large chunks of debris into bits with her rod. Empty sacs squished beneath her boots. The babies trailed behind her, sucking on their thumbs and gurgling as they tripped and tumbled. Nothing seemed to harm them.
Another shout came from ahead. She heard rocks clattering, and for a second she wondered if the girl had run into an angel or had fallen. Jenny dragged her ruined foot, used the rod to push herself over a few bodies and a rather large chunk of the ceiling, and she saw what had made the girl shout.
The girl had joined a boy who was struggling with one of the oversized tables from the chem lab room. It was upside down, and another table was jammed on top of it, as well as a large cabinet and a mountain''s worth of rubble. She couldn''t tell why they were trying to move it. The boy was large and muscular, and he had to be human (stage ii) because that was what she remembered from when she''d been dragged into the lab room.
His helmet was comprised of rectangular blocks that covered the top, sides, and back of his head. And he wore something thin and dark that hugged his frame and made his muscles seem more pronounced. He was groaning loudly as he tried to push the table, and the girl helped as well, using her shoulder, her feet squeaking against the floor.
It wasn''t until she stumbled closer that she saw the reason for their efforts. Jenny''s heart nearly sank all the way down to the rupture in her side and burst out when she saw who was lying underneath the upside-down table, his legs completely pinned.
Jenny''s chest pulled. Like her ribs were collapsing. She''d forgotten to breathe. The boy was still trying to move the mountain, screaming as he failed, and the girl screamed alongside him. But all they managed to do was knock a few chunks loose that rained down in a shower of dust.
Not caring for her foot anymore, Jenny rushed forward and collapsed by Oliver''s side. The rod clattered loudly to the floor. The table had crushed his legs up to the knees. Blood pooled around his lower body and soaked into his pants. The greenish armor he wore like a jacket was caked in dust. She wiped his face, trying to clean it, but all she managed to do was smear her own blood on his cheeks. His glasses were shattered now. The empty frames clung to his nose. Please don''t be dead.
It took her a frantic second to remember she couldn''t see any notifications. Scrambling, she pulled off his green military helmet and cast it aside before pressing her fingers against his neck.
The other boy said something to her, but she couldn''t hear him. All her focus was on finding Oliver''s pulse. When she finally felt it beating against her fingers, she inhaled a shuddering breath, easing the pressure in her lungs. She wanted to collapse. She wanted to drag him out from under the table. She wanted to break everything and set him free.
His thigh was still ruined. The bone stuck out even worse than how it''d been earlier in the chem lab. The injury was covered in dust, the inner flesh exposed to all the dirt and grime. A helpless rage stirred Jenny''s thoughts as she stared down at the brother she''d always ignored.
But the other boy was now shouting at her. He grabbed her shoulder, and she twitched with anger, turning to face him.
Now that she was up close, she saw how menacing he looked. He was dark-skinned, tall and muscular with a slim frame that screamed athleticism. She recognized his face; he''d been on the football team with Susan''s ex. But she couldn''t remember his name.
His armor was thin and metallic, like sportswear, but none of it was torn. Other than dried blood and dust, it seemed to have held up through however many fights he''d been in, as well as the fall.
As soon as he''d caught a glimpse of her face, he let Jenny go and stepped away quickly. Golden light flickered and flashed around his raised arms, forming red boxing gloves. His eyes narrowed with intense focus.
Great, thought Jenny. There¡¯s no time for this shit. She held up her hands again and shook her head. "I''m human."
"That''s not what it says," he said, licking his lips. His entire body seemed to bristle, like any moment now he would burst into action and hit her with extreme force. Any moment now, he would punch her in the face. She thought she could skewer him before his glove ever reached her.
"I know," she said quickly. Tarnished Human... She noticed red flashes of electricity gathering around his gloves, like he was charging them for something, "I''m human." she repeated, not caring how she sounded without teeth. "This is my brother. Oliver."
That finally got through to the boy. His stance faltered. The electricity snapped and blinked out. The girl touched his elbow, and he turned to see the words she signed rapidly. Jenny didn''t care. She went back to inspecting the table and the rubble, trying to find some weak point, some way to get Oliver out. Maybe if they removed the stuff on top, bit by bit, slowly and carefully... they could work their way down without too much risk.
A giggle let her know the babies had reached them. She heard the boy and girl shouting, and she turned to see even more babies had joined her little flock. There were sacs in the rubble crushing Oliver, more sacs around them, and she wondered when they''d hatch too.
"Don''t hurt them," she said, not caring what the others thought. She was eyeing the other rods and pipes sticking out of slabs of concrete. She reached for her rod and lay it across her knees, straining to remember something from physics. Something about basic machines...
But physics had never been her strong suit. She hadn''t paid much attention in class and now her brain felt like mush. Tears kept spilling down her cheek. She kept checking for the rise and fall of Oliver''s chest. She wasn''t trying to cry. The tears kept coming, blurring her vision. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, the dirt and drying blood smearing wetly.
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Oliver coughed, sputtering. Jenny touched his cheek. He felt warm... too warm. But was that cause she was cold and lifeless or because he was running a fever? His eyes opened. "Jenny?" he whispered, squinting. "Why are you... what happened?"
She shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn''t find the words.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, then he groaned as though he realized how much pain he was in. He turned his head, his eyes glistening wetly through his broken glasses. He focused on her mouth. "Your teeth..." He tried to sit up and flinched in agony.
"Don''t move," she said quickly, resting her hand on his chest and glancing at his legs. He''d tried to pull them free. Some loose rubble had rained down, and she was terrified his legs would rip clean off.
Oliver cried out in pain, grabbing Jenny''s arm and squeezing it. Burying his nails in it, breathing hard. The other boy and girl hovered nearby, the babies crawling around them. Two of them wandered over to watch Jenny and Oliver, eyeing her brother as though he might be their next meal.
It was the boy who broke the silence. "Oliver?" he asked, crouching down and pressing one of his gloves into the dirt beside Oliver''s head. "Are you good?" But he choked on his question.
"Is that you, Dul¨¦?" whispered Oliver through gritted teeth. He let out a strained laugh. "I guess we''re still alive."
The boy, Dul¨¦, laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, I thought the striped one finally got us." He shook his head. He looked at Jenny and added, "It had some kind of toxin or something that fucked us up." Then he swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice steady. ¡°This was... It¡¯s my fault. I wanted to fight them. I thought we could clear them out. And they had one of our friends...¡±
But Jenny had already tuned him out. Toxins? They had toxins? Was that why she felt so powerless when it grabbed her and sucked out her blood? She thought she''d just been afraid.
"I thought I was gonna have to watch them eat you guys one by one." Oliver coughed again, still squeezing Jenny''s arm. Then he spotted the hole in her side, the blood dripping. He saw the baby that pushed its way to Jenny''s side so it could stare at Oliver.
The girl shouted. Dul¨¦ stood to see what was going on. Jenny couldn''t take her eyes off Oliver''s.
"You saved us, didn''t you?" he asked quietly. His arms were shaking, but he stopped burying his nails in her arm. "Why are you so cold?"
She shrugged, blinking away tears. "I''m just tired." She tried to smile to reassure him, but without teeth, it wasn''t much more than a toothless grimace. Her nose rasped when she inhaled; she must look like a freak.
"Your eyes..." he whispered, reaching up to touch her cheek. "They''re the same eyes as the..." Before he finished the thought, his eyelids shut. His hand dropped from her face. His head turned; his face relaxing as he exhaled.
"No!" shouted Jenny, her voice breaking. She was only vaguely aware of the girl and Dul¨¦ fighting off angels. The sparks of red light. The flashes of gold. She pressed her fingers back to Oliver''s neck, blinking furiously through the tears, trying to see if his chest was still moving. Thoughts of CPR went through her head. Pressing her hand over his chest and pumping his heart for him. Wishing Susan were here to shock his heart or something. Didn''t the others have any Energy? Anything? They could make potions or dream up something better and... but if his legs were still crushed and he bled out...
She almost broke down, but then her fingers felt his pulse, a faint rhythm, and she wailed with relief. "He''s alive," she whispered. Then she said it again loudly for the others even though they were busy fighting. She spat blood, grabbed her rod, and hoisted herself off the floor.
The angels that had shown up, several Tarnished and a handful of brightly colored Wretched''s lay dead or dying on the floor. Jenny looked at them for a moment. The babies crawled toward the bodies, and she turned to the other two. "Help me," she said, her voice quivering.
The rod scratched the floor as she limped over until she stood right beside the table. She tried not to think about the sheer amount of weight crushing Oliver as she grabbed the edge of the table. Dul¨¦ and the girl did the same on the other side of Oliver, and together, they tried to lift it. A scream burst through her lips, all her muscles straining, trying to use the most of her separated mind and body. Blood gushed out of her wounds as though someone had squeezed her.
Crying out, she sank to her knees. They hadn''t moved the table at all. It was impossible. They would have to lift a portion of the building.
"Fuck," she whispered, touching her wound and breathing hard to fill what blood she had left with oxygen. Dark spots blossomed in her vision. Then she saw a loose chunk of concrete and remembered the lesson from physics class: a lever.
With a cough, she positioned her rod over the chunk, placing one end into the bit of space between the table and the floor. She kept picturing Oliver''s flattened legs, thin as sheets of paper. But now the rod stuck diagonally into the air. With the chunk of concrete under it, it looked almost like a seesaw.
All she''d have to do is apply downward pressure and let the rod do the heavy lifting. The others must have figured out what she was attempting because they stepped forward to help. Though the girl whisked away, crying out as more angels appeared. Jenny caught Dul¨¦''s eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then hurried over to help.
Still on her knees, Jenny grabbed the rod with one hand and pressed her shield against it. Dul¨¦''s boxing gloves vanished, and he bent over to grab it as well. He counted down. "One... two... three!"
Grunting and screaming, they forced the rod down with all their might. The muscles in Dul¨¦''s arms bulged. The spots in Jenny''s eyes nearly filled her vision. Then, just as it seemed like the table might shift, and Oliver let out a groan... it seemed like there was just enough space to drag Oliver out; the rod snapped.
Its length flicked upwards and spun away over their heads, nearly taking their faces with it. What was left of the rod was now trapped under the table. Dul¨¦ swore loudly.
Jenny stared helplessly at that tiny bit, blood dripping from her hand. Somehow, she''d thought the rod had been special. As though she''d found it for a reason. It had been inside her, hadn''t it? How could it betray her like this?
Dul¨¦''s gloves reappeared. A Tarnished Angel sauntered over, hissing. Red light flashed, and a single punch completely obliterated the angel¡¯s head. Its body collapsed.
Breathless, sweat dripping down the side of his face, he turned to Jenny, his eyes filled with grief. "I wanted to use my Raging Strike and blow all the stuff away but..." He shook his head. "It''s not strong enough."
Jenny shoved her tongue against her gums as though she was trying to force her teeth to grow. She was only half listening to his apology; she was trying to figure out a way to use his crazy punch.
None of her skills, even if she didn''t have Severed Spirit active, would help. Frustration was building and building, and she wanted to scream until her throat went hoarse and all the angels in the building had found her.
Then she heard the babies gurgling loudly. A few of them were eating the angels the girl and Dul¨¦ took down while watching the rest of the fighting. Some of the other babies had wandered away from the group and were messing with something sticking out from the rubble not too far away from Oliver.
It was a large, muscular dark arm that ended in claws.
For the briefest of seconds, she felt motherly pride, and she scrambled towards the arm, limping terribly on her ruined foot until she collapsed on top of it. She pushed the loose rubble away, uncovering the black Wretched Angel that had nearly killed her. Its lower jaw was missing. Its insides were split open and exposed, covered in dust. Its tendrils were loose and unmoving. Smack in the center of its forehead was her hatchet.
An idea, a sick and twisted and horrible but desperate idea, came to Jenny''s mind. She grabbed the handle of her hatchet and wrenched it free as the babies chewed the angel¡¯s insides.
35. Older Sibling
She wanted to eat the dead Wretched Angel''s flesh. Wanted to chew through the black covering of its skull and taste its brain matter. Her stomach twisted with a gaping violent hunger; her mouth watered as she stared into its lifeless white eyes. The sounds of the babies tearing and chewing and swallowing only drove her ravenous insanity further.
Swallowing the excess spittle, she knelt slowly, her lips nearing the angel''s ruined face. Its black covering had lost its shine. It seemed dull and lifeless now, covered in dust, but still delectable. She remembered how it turned gelatinous when it chewed on its own covering. Without its bottom jaw, she could see right into the pink darkness of its throat.
Blood ran down the side of its nose from the terrible wound on its forehead. A terrible wound that would give her access to a succulent meal.
Jenny stopped, her mouth hovering over its split-open forehead. Drool slid over her gums and out, a glistening drop that splashed on the dead creature''s cheek. She was sitting on its chest, right in front of the spike. Her knees on either side of its neck. One of the babies crawled over to see what she was doing. It cocked its oversized head. Its bright green eyes shining. Then it pointed at the Wretched Angel''s bleeding head as if to ask, for me?
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the edge of her hatchet caught her eye. She realized it had changed. Its appearance. Its weight. Everything about it was different.
The metal part was now dark and smoky, glasslike with a textured pattern across its face that reminded her of molten rock. It was obsidian. She remembered that from Earth Science, freshman year. The handle was a rich brown wood with shiny flowery etchings that climbed from bottom to top. As though someone had carved the intricate pattern into the wood and filled it with gold. Her hatchet seemed more like an artifact from some ancient civilization now. Something that might''ve been used ceremoniously rather than as a crude weapon or tool. It must be Tier 3.
She wished she could invoke the Guidance System. To ask Eve for more information. What sort of abilities did it have now?
Not that knowing would help. She couldn''t use her skills or abilities. Her hand shook, but she was grateful for the distraction; she''d almost given in and tasted angel flesh. Her fingers curled tightly around the handle, and she climbed off the dead angel. She ignored the baby. Half walking, half dragging, Jenny returned to Oliver''s side where she dropped to her knees.
Dul¨¦ and the girl were gone. She could hear their fighting: the hissing, screeching, scuffling, and occasional slam that sounded like a thunderclap. They must have led the angels away from Oliver. Since they were in a secluded corner near the front of the room, it was an easy place to protect.
Smart, she thought, inspecting the pile of rubble again. It reached all the way up to the large crater in the ceiling, blocking off the front door. They would have to fight to the other side and escape through the second exit. Dust and little bits escaped every so often whenever the floor shook. What if the whole thing collapsed? One of the tables creaked precariously, and Jenny winced.
Something must have shifted because Oliver woke with a gasp. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and he stared at the rubble crushing his legs, eyes wide and frantic.
Jenny wanted to bite her lip, but that was impossible without teeth. She squeezed her hatchet; it seemed to glow now, a faint emanating golden aura, and Oliver struggled to look at it.
"Is that your weapon?" he asked weakly. He tried adjusting his glasses, but the lenses were long gone. They were just empty frames. "What you made? It''s beautiful."
She nodded, almost wanting to laugh at the urge to say no duh. That was how she''d usually respond to anything he''d say, with biting sarcasm.
"Mine was a knife," he said. He raised an arm as if it was in his hands. "Got it to Tier 2 and I feel like I got close to Tier 3 like yours. What does your hatchet do?" His voice was strained, but she got the sense he was talking to distract himself from the pain and to distract her from the situation.
Jenny turned the hatchet over. The obsidian glimmered like metal from another world. The sound of Dul¨¦''s shouts filled the air. The babies were still busy eating the delicious meal she''d left behind. "I can summon it back to me," she said finally, speaking slowly and hoping he understood her despite the lack of teeth distorting her words.
"Oh," whispered Oliver. He shut his eyes for a moment. "Just like Mackenzie. She copied my knife, but I got something else." He coughed violently and then groaned, as the motion of coughing jarred his legs, and Jenny dropped her hatchet to hold his hand.
The deaf girl''s name must be Mackenzie, thought Jenny. She wondered what ability Oliver''s knife got at Tier 2.
"Is she alive?" he asked softly, as though he''d already accepted her fate if she were dead. The last he''d seen of her, she''d been dragged away by the striped angel. The mark on his face was covered in dust, but Jenny could still see the red swollenness.
"Yeah," said Jenny, nodding and trying to smile, but then realizing that wouldn''t help much without teeth. "Still alive. And kicking ass."
Oliver started shivering like mad. His teeth were chattering. "Good," he said, his voice fading to whisper quiet.
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Swallowing the lump in her throat, Jenny squeezed his hand. "Can''t you hear her? She''s right around this pile of shit."
He didn''t seem to hear anything now. The shivering grew worse. He stared at the gaping hole in the ceiling, his eyes watering. Tears ran down the sides of his face, clearing the dust. "It hurts," he said quietly, his voice layered with a moan of anguish. He squeezed her fingers so hard, his nails cut into her hand.
He looked like he was trying very hard not to cry and failing. He bit his bottom lip and turned his head slightly to look into Jenny''s eyes. As though he were begging her to fix this. Pleading silently.
Her heart broke. He''d never once looked at her like that before. Always it was curiosity or kindness or suppressed laughter, just whatever it was that little siblings did. She wanted to hug him. She''d never hugged him before. She wanted to console him and promise him everything would be alright. After all, that was her job as his big sister, wasn''t it?
Shouldn''t she know how to fix this? She was supposed to take care of him, wasn''t she? A responsibility that had fallen on her as soon as their parents married. An obligation she''d resented and ignored, and now...
It was stupid. This was all so stupid. Struggling inside her was a disgusting hunger, a terrible heartbreak, and an aching that she wished would just stop. She forced herself to look at his legs again. If she could just get him out from under the rubble... they were on the first floor. She could carry him to the library where he¡¯d be safe.
But judging by the shouting and fighting, there were plenty of angels in the way. And somewhere, still in its cocoon maybe, was that Desecrated Angel, lying in wait.
She licked her lips, feeling the dust and dried blood stuck to her skin. His hand felt so warm in hers, and she listened to him praying softly, repeating the words her mother had taught him.
Jenny squeezed his hand back. "I''m going to get you out," she whispered. It was a promise. The first promise she made as his big sister. She''ll figure something out.
His teeth chattered as he tried to speak. He was sobbing now. "Wait," he said, choking on the word. "Don''t leave me here. I can''t... I don''t want to be alone."
"I''m not going anywhere," she said gently, repeating it as she let go of his hand. She was trembling now too, trying to think. What could she use? The others had skills she didn¡¯t know about. She had this ruined body... there had to be something.
The hiss of an approaching angel cut through her thoughts. It must''ve slipped past the others. She turned to see a Tarnished Angel crawling toward them. Emaciated with long dark hair. An ugly gash went down the side of its face, blood dripping like wet paint, probably a result of Mackenzie''s knife.
Oliver stared at it, his lips curling downward, his fingers balling into fists.
"It''s okay," she said through the corner of her mouth, grabbing her hatchet''s handle.
The angel moved slowly. It was injured in several places, and as soon as it got close enough, Jenny''s arms snapped upward. The hatchet caught the angel''s neck, streaks of golden light tracing the movement, shimmering.
The new edge cut through the creature so easily, Jenny almost released the hatchet in surprise. The angel''s head landed several feet away, rolling. Its body seemed to hesitate, blood gushing out of the stump of its neck. Then it landed with a thud, bleeding profusely.
With a chorus of excited babbling, the babies crawled over as a group. They seemed even bigger than before, and she noticed several of them waddling on two chubby legs. Their eyes wide with excitement, arms held out for balance, they rushed to the Tarnished Angel''s body. A few of the babies stumbled and fell, but then picked themselves up to hurry after the others.
"What are they?" whispered Oliver. "It says... it says, Angel... But yours. Why are you a Tarnished Human?" Fear shuddered through his question. His face was strained, turning pasty even with the healthy coating of dust. He looked like he was about to be sick.
"Don''t think about that right now," she said quickly. Stress would only tax his body more. "Let''s get you out first. Then I''ll explain."
"But..." His voice faded. He sniffled, turning to watch the babies eat their next meal. They chewed through the Tarnished Angel''s flesh, slurping and pausing to burp and spit up every once in a while.
Dul¨¦ stumbled near them, breathing hard, drenched in sweat. Jenny could still hear Mackenzie screaming and fighting, but there were other voices too. That gave her more hope. The more people they had, the better chance of getting out of there alive.
Wiping his brow, Dul¨¦ motioned toward the Tarnished Angel. The babies crawled all over it, chewing on fingers and elbows and shoulders. He made a face like he might throw up. "Sorry," he said. "That one got through."
"How many are there?" asked Jenny. She almost asked if they''d seen the Desecrated Angel, but knew that if they had, they''d all be dead. She didn''t want to frighten Oliver by mentioning it.
"They keep coming," he said, shaking his head and taking deep breaths. "But a lot of them are the weaker ones, and we have Alex and Tara helping now too."
Golden light flashed. One of his boxing gloves disappeared, and he was holding what looked like a spray bottle of window cleaner. Jenny had no idea what it was without the Guidance system.
"For you," he said, stepping closer and holding it out. "I''ll make one for Oliver too. I would''ve made it sooner, but I didn''t have enough Energy. I''m guessing you don''t either."
Jenny shook the spray bottle. Red liquid sloshed inside. It wasn''t much different from her potions, but she thought it was interesting that others had come up with different means of healing. She glanced down at her wound. Blood still flowed from the hole in her side, but it had slowed down to a trickle. Her body was still moving, heavy and sickly, but moving, and her heart continued beating, so she must still have enough blood to keep things running for now.
"How does it work?" she asked.
Golden light flashed again. "It''s a Minor Spray of Recovery," said Dul¨¦. "It''ll close and heal anything. Saved us a bunch of times already."
She almost told him to wait. To store up more Energy first so they could make something stronger, but Dul¨¦ already had another spray bottle in his hand. She pressed her lips together, straining hard to think.
Something about the way he said close and heal fluttered through her thoughts. These should work similarly enough to her potions. As long as the wound closed, and the blood flow stopped... Her breathing deepened as the idea formed. She glanced at Oliver''s legs. Close and heal...
She realized what she had to do. The only way to get Oliver out of this alive was to cut off his legs. She''d hold off from healing herself just yet; there was no way to know how much of these sprays they''d need. And if she could at least keep it together, keep Oliver alive, until they got to the library, then everything would work out.
"Okay," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She looked up at Dul¨¦, realizing she was about to speak her idea out loud, making it real. "I''m going to cut off his legs."
36. Pop
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 Wretched 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.
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"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 Wretched 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 she 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.
37. What Wriggles in the Rubble
Agony exploded through Jenny. She felt like she''d been punched in the gut, then kicked several times before one of the large angels stomped on her. Her wound was fizzing. Like soda, but it wasn''t a carbonated drink, it was her insides bubbling and hissing.
She coughed up blood; she''d screamed so violently that she was sure her lungs ruptured or worse. The popping sounds in her chest were not promising, and a steady pressure spread throughout her chest. It felt like she was drowning. She''d failed the swimming classes her mom had forced her to take one summer as a kid - one session of screaming and panic and choking on chlorine-rich water, and the instructor threw her out - but she''d never forgotten the feeling of water pressing all around her, threatening to steal away her ability to breathe.
"Fuck," she spat. Blood shot out of her mouth as she wheezed. Her breathing sounded and felt worse than before, and she clutched her wound. It was still fizzing. Something bubbled and burst against her fingers. Her blood felt sticky and thick, like boiling honey.
There was shouting, but her ears were clogged with blood or pressure, she couldn''t tell. Their words sounded muffled and distant. Her vision had filled with dark spots. A sense of doom loomed over her thoughts even as the pain from the healing spray faded to a dull throbbing.
I can''t heal myself. I can¡¯t fucking heal myself... What the fuck?
That had been her plan. Get someone, possibly Susan, to create a healing potion for her. She''d heal all her wounds and disable the skill and be as good as new. Then she could reap the rewards of all the kills she''d gotten so far. She thought she outsmarted the Guidance System.
But... she laughed. A pitiful laugh of self-hatred. A cackle of misery and woe and holy shit, fuck everything.
It''s my fault, isn''t it? I''d been too brash. Too stupid. Then again... If it hadn''t been for that cocoon causing that explosion, she wouldn''t be this badly injured.
Someone helped her up while the others continued arguing, their voices layered with fear and disgust. Jenny looked up to see Mackenzie grabbing her shield arm. Jenny grabbed her hatchet and let the girl help her stand.
The others gawked at her. Dule seemed worried and afraid, but the other two, their lips twisted with disgust. Eyes bulging with horror. She even detected distaste. Like she''d stepped out of her skin and emerged a slimy mass of muscle and bone. It didn''t help that the babies gathered around her, concern and curiosity on their chubby faces. They nuzzled her legs, and she was too tired to kick them away.
She knew the others didn''t like the babies. She didn''t like them much either, but right that moment, she felt closer to them than she did the humans. They understood her. They couldn''t talk, but their blood-covered faces and wide hopeful eyes tugged on her heart. She wished she could be as innocent and clueless as they were. Blissfully unaware of everything but their immediate desire to feed, and whatever they felt for her. Was that love? Was that need? Was she like a mother to them? Should she care about them?
All she knew was that she didn''t want to be here, being scrutinized like this. She didn''t want to be on display. She just wanted to hide away forever. She could almost feel their thoughts. Monster. Nightmare. What the fuck is wrong with her? Ugly. Fucked up.
Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don''t know.
She wished Susan were here. She wished it so hard that her heart seemed to clench like a tight fist, and she almost choked on the wishful thinking as another pop went off in her chest and she coughed.
Dule was carrying Oliver in his arms. The stumps of Oliver''s legs swung as Dule turned. He was saying something, but all Jenny heard was a ceaseless ringing, like something was screaming inside her head and refused to stop.
Judging by the other''s reactions, they didn''t trust her one bit. They didn''t want her around; they didn''t want to turn their backs on her. Like she might attack them. She couldn''t really blame them. How frightening did she look? Her body was coming apart. She couldn''t heal...
But hadn''t she always felt like this? Even before this nightmare started. That nobody really wanted her around. That she was misshapen somehow, that her presence was unwelcome. Conversations would fizzle out whenever she showed up, in person or online. Groups gave her anxiety, and she''d sit among classmates feeling like a ghost or an ornament or a shadow. Jokes would die down. She''d say something and nobody would react. She hated the way people would turn quiet around her, even though they''d been laughing and cheerful moments before.
People just tolerated her presence until she left, didn''t they? And as soon as she was gone, they''d return to the wonderful lives she''d interrupted.
All Severed Soul had done was bring her truth to the outside. She truly was Tarnished, wasn''t she? What if this was her true form? A toothless rotting creature covered in blood and falling to pieces. She belonged in a coffin buried six feet in the ground away from the living...
Once the screaming in her head died down, she pressed her hatchet against her leg and nodded at Mackenzie. "I can walk."
The girl was vibrant. Alive and fierce in a way Jenny couldn''t be. She didn''t want Mackenzie''s friends to mistrust her for helping Jenny.
But Mackenzie shook her head. She opened her mouth as if to say something. Sounds came out that Jenny couldn''t understand, but she got the sense that Mackenzie wasn''t going to leave her behind. Was this because Jenny was Oliver¡¯s brother? Or because the girl actually cared?
"Alright," said Dule, his voice laced with urgency as he motioned with his head. "We''ll figure this shit out later. Let''s get to the library like she said."
"But what the fuck is in the library? What if it''s another nest ?" said Tara, fury distorting her face. Her helmet was similar to Mackenzie''s, a knight''s helmet. Except she didn''t have the visor. It looked like it was ripped off, and her brown skin was cut in several places. She was missing the tip of her nose.
Mackenzie''s fingers flashed, even as she held Jenny up, and Jenny could feel the girl shaking with anger. Why was she so determined to help?
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But before anyone could respond, a tremor went through the entire lab room, making everyone stumble for balance. A bright blue light blossomed, bathing everything in its unsettling glow before fading, and Jenny''s heart raced, remembering how she''d been lying on the table and the same light shone on everything.
The babies cried out. Some of them started wailing, and the others picked up on that. One of them grabbed Jenny''s leg and refused to let go.
Another tremor jolted the floor. The rubble that had been crushing Oliver shook loose, and Dule and Tara shouted and rushed away as it collapsed. Large chunks rained down like meteors, clattering and crashing, kicking up clouds of dust. The upside-down table, with Oliver''s feet still beneath it, slid, and whatever blood was left in the severed feet gushed out disgustingly as they flattened completely. Tara screamed at the sight.
Then someone shouted, "Run!" and Jenny couldn''t be sure if it was her or not. Mackenzie held Jenny''s shield arm firmly around her shoulders; she was trying to pull Jenny forward.
But what use was it?
"I''m just going to slow you down," wheezed Jenny as another large chunk of the ceiling collapsed behind them, where they''d just been a few moments ago. It burst into countless pieces and exposed metal pipes clanged hard. One of the babies got hit, but it didn¡¯t seem to mind at all. It shook the impact off, then hurried after the others.
But trying to talk to her was no use. Mackenzie couldn''t see Jenny''s lips, so she let the girl help. Dule jumped nimbly over the rubble. He carried Oliver with ease. Tara and Alex followed closely, dodging things falling from the ceiling and trying not to step on anyone. The babies chased after Jenny, all of them crying and screaming.
Blue light surged every few moments, and fresh tremors rumbled. The light seemed to shine longer now before fading away. Mackenzie was gasping and swearing as she pulled Jenny along.
The hole in the ceiling seemed to grow. The edges crumbled and rained down. Jenny heard hissing above and kept bracing herself for a fight, but they''d nearly made it to the other end of the lab room. That was where the pulsing light shone brightest, flooding her vision with bright blue, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut until it faded. That was when she spotted the cocoon.
It lay on its side underneath a fallen closet. The wooden doors of the closet were cracked but hugged the cocoon, securing it in place on the floor. Another upside-down desk, heavy and with the sink spurting dirty water rested on top of the closet at an angle.
She couldn''t see where the cocoon was torn, but the webbed blue outer layer of the sac wriggled. It distorted and moved, like a bug crawling underneath the skin, or like a baby trying to claw its way out of its mother''s belly.
Blue light flashed again, more vividly than any of the pulses before. The entire building seemed to shake, as though the cocoon were a blackhole and everything would be ripped and torn to bits, collapsing onto this central point. Dule was already at the door, struggling to hold Oliver up in all the ruckus, shouting for someone to open it.
But it seemed that only Jenny had heard him. The others stopped to stare at the cocoon, mystified by the light even as debris rained and crashed around them. They almost seemed hypnotized. Even Jenny felt a curious inexplicable tug, like they were about to witness something miraculous. Something otherworldly. As though the sky had split open and a heavenly being was descending.
But this was no heavenly being. There was no sky. They were stuck in a crumbling physics lab covered in blood and dirt and surrounded by the dead.
The babies bumped into Jenny''s and Mackenzie''s legs, coming to a stop. She looked down to see their frightened expressions. A few of them sucked on their thumbs and stared at the cocoon with such palpable dread that a shudder ran up Jenny¡¯s spine.
Wasn''t that thing their mother? But the babies scrambled to hide behind Jenny''s legs. She got the sense that something truly terrible was coming. Something terrible was about to be born, and Jenny desperately wished she could ask Eve about this.
That Desecrated Angel... it was coming. There was no way they''d defeat that thing now. They had to run. They had to get away, regroup, recover, and then...
Another thought struck Jenny as though she¡¯d used the healing spray again. Another horrible disgusting thought. The Desecrated Angel had eyes. Piercing blue eyes that looked so human. That had looked right through her and chosen her blood for a meal. It was just like the babies struggling around her legs. Would light have any effect on these angels?
And if the light didn''t work, they wouldn¡¯t be able to stop the Desecrated Angel, and they''d be leading it right to the others in the library. Right to Susan.
There would be no safe haven. Someone had to stay behind and lead it away. That was the best they could do for now. Distract it until the rest of them could make a plan. Someone had to remain, and Jenny knew without a single doubt in her heart, that that someone would have to be her.
Another pulse of light, brighter than the ones before, burst out of the cocoon in shimmering bubbles, like rolling storm clouds gathering. Energy radiated violently, like shockwaves she''d seen in footage of bomb testings. The floor shook beneath their feet. Debris was blown back, clearing a circular area around the squashed cocoon. The desk above it creaked and fell to the floor with a heavy crash.
Jenny''s eyes widened. The floor would break beneath them, just like it had done on the second floor. The cocoon''s energy was too much. Maybe that was their way out.
The dumb angel would drop into the basement, and they could retreat to the library. But at this rate, they''d plunge right down with it into hell.
It pulsed again. A furious wind slapped Jenny and Mackenzie. Jenny struck a table with her hatchet, keeping them from being blown all the way back to the other side of the room. The babies were knocked about, this way and that, and Jenny lost track of them as loose rubble billowed around everything, as though they were in a tornado.
When it stopped, she heard a slam. Dule had kicked the door off its hinges and stumbled into the hallway, shouting over his shoulder. Jenny was glad that he was prioritizing Oliver''s safety. The other two had been blown onto their backs, and they scrambled to their feet, the hypnotic spell broken. They screamed at Mackenzie to leave Jenny and run.
Mackenzie forced herself up, trying to drag Jenny. But Jenny wouldn''t budge. She had to make sure the stupid cocoon sank. Or she had to be there when the angel emerged. To do what, she wasn¡¯t sure.
The girl screamed in Jenny''s ear.
"It''s alright," Jenny whispered back. She saw the light flaring up again, and she gathered what strength she could and shoved Mackenzie with all her might.
The girl''s eyes went wide. Blue enveloped everything. An ugly crack ran through the floor. And when the next pulse hit, the force pushed Mackenzie away, right through the doorway.
Jenny was flung against the wall, crumpling the exposed bricks with her shield. She cried out as the wind tore at her armor. It was growing fiercer and fiercer, blight light expanding and contracting as it swallowed everything. A table slid toward her, then twisted over another, like a car flipping over, and crashed into the doorway, completely sealing off the exit.
Her scales melted away. She felt her skin burning as she took the full brunt of ejected energy, the cocoon was no longer covered by anything. The closet had eroded away, exposing the dark gash like a lightning bolt through its center from where it had been torn.
Jenny pictured victims of atomic bombs. What radiation had done to their skin and hair, making their blood vessels erupt and boil, the painful miserable way they''d died. At least this didn''t hurt, she thought. It wasn''t like the healing spray.
The biting winds died, and the floor cratered around the cocoon. Dust and debris erupted, and she thought she saw a glistening clawed hand emerge, reaching. She thought she saw the silhouette of something immense and fearsome with wings, with burning blue eyes that glowed in the dust-ridden gloom, rising. Trying to rise. But another pulse of energy blasted her right through the wall into the hallway, as the room buckled.
The last thing she saw was the floor of the physics lab giving away. The glowing blue creature plunged into the darkness as the rest of the ceiling caved in, and the contents of the physics lab, the heavy desks and the bodies, and many of the babies, were sucked into the sinkhole that had formed.
38. Blooded
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39. i trust you (susan)
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40. Strands of Light
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41. Hunger
"Something''s moving down there," came Mrs. Monique''s voice through the clouds of swirling dust. She''d ventured toward the crater to give Jenny and Susan space and shone her flashlight into the depths of the basement.
But Jenny only barely registered what the librarian said. She kept replaying the first notification over and over. Blooded. Blooded. Blooded.
Blooded: You have tasted blood from another world.
+20 Stat points have been awarded.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? The other notifications spurted rapidly, like fireworks bursting uncontrollably before fading away. She''d killed a bunch of angels. Gained a ton of Experience and Energy and had racked up a lot of stat points. But she was too afraid to ask the Guidance System to elaborate, too afraid that she''d done something terrible. That worry was lodged in her thoughts like a thorn. She kept thinking about how that other world collapsed and... hadn''t that strange dark water caught her? She remembered drowning. How was she even here?
Eve, are you there? Are you back in my head?
Yes, Jenny Huang. I never left. Congratulations on your Blooded status.
Am I screwed up now? What happened? She couldn¡¯t shake the unsettling feeling that something horrid loomed inside her. With Susan¡¯s light having dispersed, the ruined lab rooms filled with the eerie gloom of the void. Her best friend lay on top of her, her eyes shut tight.
Susan Brown surrendered much of her spirit to resurrect you. She pulled you back into your body.
Resurrect? Jenny¡¯s eyes went wide. Resurrect? A bead of sweat trailed down Susan¡¯s nose and landed on Jenny¡¯s face. Then Susan started trembling, and that was all Jeny could concentrate on.
"Susan!" Jenny''s breath caught in her throat. Her lungs burned. The hole in her side, now healed and closed, ached. But at least now it felt more like she''d been punched in the gut rather than bore through with a rod.
"I''m alright," she said weakly. "Just feeling really tired." She lifted her head off Jenny and tried to sit up, blinking. Her eyes were bloodshot. Dark bags hung beneath them as though she hadn''t slept in days. Her face was sunken. What had she given up to heal Jenny? What was the cost?
Jenny''s body wasn''t fully healed. She pushed herself off the floor, wincing as her shoulder cracked. She clenched her new fingers into a fist. They were pinker than the rest of her hand, and they felt strange. Like she could feel her old fingers, her original fingers, but she saw these new ones now attached to her palm. The holes in her thigh and side were covered in pale, pink flesh, though the skin around the wounds was still red and angry. Susan had done everything she could; Jenny even had her teeth back. The rest could be taken care of with potions or sprays or whatever else they could come up with.
But what about Susan? What was wrong with her? Susan¡¯s eyes were shut and she was swaying as though she might collapse any moment. Jenny grabbed Susan¡¯s arm and held her steady, searching her best friend¡¯s face and trying to figure out what to do.
But the worst part? The worst part was, even as she fretted about Susan''s exhausted state and what her best friend sacrificed to save her, all Jenny could think about was how much she was starving. Starving. The hunger that throbbed deep within her belly made her left eye hurt. She felt it in every limb, every muscle. Felt the saliva pooling underneath her tongue because Susan¡¯s body looked so soft...
So sweet. Like her flesh would just melt in Jenny¡¯s mouth. And her blood! Her blood would be so warm and filling, and she wanted to compare the taste to the Angel¡¯s blood. Wanted to know how different the flesh would feel ripping between her teeth. Her stomach rumbled, and Jenny recoiled in horror, making Susan flinch as though Jenny had actually tried to take a bite.
¡°Does it still hurt?¡± asked Susan, her voice small. Her eyelids struggling to stay up. She placed her hand over Jenny¡¯s, even though her arm was shaking from the effort.
Jenny bit her bottom lip with her newly grown teeth, blinking away tears. Her jaw ached, but it was nothing compared to the ache of hunger that made her teeth yearn to sink into flesh. What the fuck is wrong with me? No, I need to think about Susan right now. But not like that!
How can I heal her?
I''ve got enough energy. Maybe I can make something to restore her. She reached for the system, trying to shape another potion with her thoughts, something that would restore Susan¡¯s stamina and take away her tiredness. It was trying to use a muscle she hadn¡¯t in a long time, though it couldn¡¯t have been more than an hour since she¡¯d activated Severed Spirit.
I would not recommend this course of action.
Are you just saying that so I don¡¯t waste Energy? Jenny took a deep breath. She had to try something, didn¡¯t she?
Susan Brown''s skill drained her spirit to heal you. Not stamina. Not Energy. Spirit cannot be restored by any means other than sleep.
Frustration built up inside Jenny. So much so that she wanted to use Ignite and burn everything around them down. Feeling helpless, she pulled Susan in for a hug, terribly aware of how close her jaws were to Susan''s throat. But she pressed her cheek to Susan''s, both of them covered with dust and dirt and dried blood, and even though she was naked, she didn''t care. She squeezed her best friend harder than she''d ever hugged her before. ¡°Thank you for saving me.¡±
Susan started to say something, but surrendered and weakly hugged Jenny back.
Why? thought Jenny. Why''d you go so far, you big dummy? Just for me? It wasn¡¯t a question she could voice yet. Maybe after all this was over.
"Fuck." Mrs. Monique scrambled back from the crater and rushed toward them, kicking up loose rubble and dust. "We have to get back to the library. Right now. There''s at least a dozen angels down there."
Jenny sniffled. Her nose felt crooked, but at least she had a nose again. She took a deep breath, and let Susan go.
"Did they see you?" asked Susan, who scratched one side of her face, keeping her eyes on the floor. She seemed a little rejuvenated, her face flushed red.
Mrs. Monique put her flashlight in a pocket and then knelt to help Susan to her feet. "I can''t tell. There''s too much dust and something big." Once she had Susan standing, she turned to help Jenny and froze. "Jenny, your eye!"
Jenny blinked. She¡¯d still been thinking about hugging Susan, but the heat from their embrace evaporated as Mrs. Monique¡¯s face morphed from shock to fear.
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"But it says... No, it says you''re human." Mrs. Monique stepped back and raised her spear, holding it with both hands and aiming at Jenny. The light from her flashlight stuck out of her pocket and made her metallic armor seem to shimmer.
The librarian reminded Jenny of a spooked cat, arching its back and baring its fangs, trying to determine whether an approaching stranger was dangerous. Jenny covered her left eye with her palm, realizing it had been stinging this entire time. She hadn''t noticed because of her nose and her other injuries and the hunger...
She eyed the librarian, salivating at the thought of peeling off her skin and chewing through the exposed muscles and then.... no no no no!
Susan raised her arms, looking between Mrs. Monique and Jenny. She opened her mouth to protest, suggesting this was because of what Jenny did to survive, but Mrs. Monique shook her head. She wasn''t taking any chances.
¡°Eve?¡± whispered Jenny. ¡°Am I still human?¡± She lowered her hand; her palm came away glistening with blood. She was crying blood.
"Who¡¯s Eve?" said Susan, a note of alarm in her voice.
"Eve?" repeated Mrs. Monique, adjusting her grip on the spear. "Something''s not right. Something''s definitely fucked up."
Shit. I said that out loud. Jenny was about to try and explain, but Eve¡¯s words appeared in her head and she hesitated.
Your body remains Human.
But why is my eye still... and only one of them?
When you severed your spirit, you perished, Jenny Huang. You died. You ripped your soul from your body and it had to be ripped back.
Died? Jenny blinked and wiped the blood off her cheek, unable to meet Susan¡¯s eyes. No. I was thinking. I was fighting. I was-
Your brain continued to function. Processing and reacting to sensory data.
The visions of the other world falling apart, of the dark water consuming her, of the hollowed feeling when she¡¯d been Severed... she shuddered violently, then took a deep breath.
"Mrs. Monique," said Jenny when she felt steady enough. She looked at Susan and raised her blood-covered hand. "It''s alright, I can explain." Her head spun as she looked between the two. Her stomach twisted with hunger and disgust and self-loathing. "But right now, there''s something down there that wants my blood. And if I go to the library, it''ll come after me. And if we stay here, you guys will get caught up in it."
"What thing?" asked Mrs. Monique, still holding the spear, still looking angry.
"A Desecrated Angel." Just saying its name made Jenny¡¯s heart race. "It can control the dead. It''s-"
Mrs. Monique let out a frustrated scream. The spear shook. The tip came so close to Jenny''s nose that she could almost taste the metallic point. Could almost feel it plunging through her head.
Susan cried out, but Mrs. Monique didn''t attack. Jenny hadn''t flinched either. She stared right back into the librarian''s eyes. There was no time for this, and she saw Mrs. Monique¡¯s shoulders relaxing.
Mrs. Monique looked at the babies. They were sitting around Jenny, watching everything unfold quietly, sucking on their fingers or toes. Susan''s hand was on Mrs. Monique''s wrist.
Finally, she whispered, "I don''t know what to do." Her voice quivered for a moment, and for that brief instance, Jenny saw a shadow of the familiar sweet librarian who was always ready to help, to talk, to brighten anyone''s day. But that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Replaced by that steel-eyed woman holding a spear pointing in Jenny''s face.
Tears ran down Jenny''s left cheek. She didn''t look away. Mrs. Monique was only Level 3, and she had every right to be afraid. Maybe she even sensed the horrid thoughts coiling around Jenny¡¯s brain. A subconscious awareness that something was definitely wrong.
"So, you''re not one of them? asked Mrs. Monique. ¡°You didn''t turn into one of them?"
Jenny shook her head no. She glanced at Susan who lowered Mrs. Monique''s spear then faltered on her feet. Jenny scrambled to catch her.
"Sorry," whispered Susan. "I''m okay."
Jenny picked up the cattle prod and put it in Susan''s hands. "Where''s your flashlight? You guys have to get back to the library." She figured if they used their lights, they should be fine. Nothing would bother them. The Desecrated Angel only wanted her.
"No," said Susan, mumbling and trying to steady herself. "I''m not leaving you alone again."
A heartbreaking warmth filled Jenny''s heart as she stared into her best friend''s eyes. Susan didn''t hesitate for a second over Jenny''s strange, bleeding eye. Her lips were pressed tight. She looked determined, but what good was determination if she was exhausted?
But before Jenny could say anything, that terrible hunger crawled up her throat again, and all she could think about was Susan''s flesh and... Jenny was the one to look away first. Her strength returned with every heartbeat, and she couldn''t help but remember Susan''s fingers wrapped around her heart, squeezing it. No. Susan could not stay with her.
What if Jenny really was turning into an angel now? Or something worse? Who¡¯d protect Susan from her?
They had to get to the library. Away from her. With the others. Then Susan could rest. They''d be with Oliver and his friends and maybe Susan could even heal Oliver¡¯s legs once she¡¯d recovered.
In the meantime, Jenny could go find Miriam and the others in that room in the chem wing. She sighed. She''d nearly forgotten about Miriam in all the chaos since. Was the poor girl still alive?
A tremor shook the floor. Everything rattled. Mrs. Monique whipped around to face the crater. Susan tripped into Jenny''s arms. The babies cried out and latched onto Jenny''s legs.
Then a beam of blue light shot out of the crater and through the hole in the ceiling. Wind battered them and sent rubble flying, clearing the dust, and Jenny dug her toes into the floor and held Susan tight. Her babies rolled and struggled, but they¡¯d just have to fend for themselves.
The beam shimmered and surged, a lance through the entire building, and then it burst into radiant blue bubbles. Each one floated and sparkled like afterimages before fizzing out. Goosebumps raced up and down Jenny''s body. She recognized the light. Realized what was coming. And that light was much, much stronger than the flash she¡¯d seen earlier.
She stepped forward and grabbed Mrs. Monique''s shoulder and spoke as firmly as she could, "Take Susan and get out. Get back to the library. They only want me!"
The librarian looked terrified. Her eyes wide. "What?" The librarian''s gaze had changed completely. Her anger and steadfastness from a moment ago had vanished, replaced with nothing but abject fear. Did the light mess with her? Her lips were trembling and she looked like she¡¯d burst into tears any second now.
Jenny turned to find Susan petrified. Her arms were wrapped around her chest and she stared at where the blue light had shimmered. It was the same as when the Survival Challenge began; Susan was rooted to the spot, terrified.
Then the rubble shifted. Her babies squealed with fright as the half-waddled half-ran back to her. A nauseating aura of dread crackled through the air. Her heart thundered. All the dead angels, the ones Susan had knocked out with her own light, twitched in unison. As well as all the other bodies strewn about the ruins of the lab room. The bodies of students and teachers. Some of them were crushed by tables and chunks of the ceiling.
Every single one of them opened their shining blue eyes. Their arms and legs jerked, and they groaned, forming a chorus of undead voices that came from above as well as below and behind them. Echoing from the hallway leading to the lobby.
Panic spread through her chest like a whirlwind. Jenny pushed Susan behind her and shouted for Mrs. Monique to get a hold of herself. But whatever that blue beam of light had been, it hadn''t only awakened the dead. It messed with the living too, a sense of dread that felt like a night terror. Her heart pounded as the bodies crawled toward them. There wasn¡¯t a single notification for any of these things.
She thought about rushing into the pit. Would all these undead creatures follow her? They only wanted her, right? But what if they also went after Susan? What if that Desecrated Angel was after all of them now?
She couldn¡¯t take that chance. She''d have to protect her. She¡¯d have to fight to the death. But the undead approached from every direction. What was she supposed to do?
Golden light flashed, and her hatchet returned to her hand. Its new obsidian face glistened, aching to slice. Her next thought was her nakedness. She was just about to spend Energy to create new Medium Armor and possibly another shield when another notification burst through her desperate planning.
Activate Exoskeleton?
Exoskeleton?
Yes, she thought, eyeing the closest pile of undead angels, the ones that tried to drag her into the hole. It was a mess of limbs. She glanced at the dead students... their torn flesh and clothes. They blinked and stared at their hands and wailed. So far, only the angels were crawling toward them. Maybe the humans... maybe they were still in there?
Pressure erupted inside Jenny''s navel. She cried out as the sensation expanded outward, pushing against her belly button and the base of her spine. Like something was struggling to burst through her skin. Her muscles clenched. Her back arched as though she was seizing, and, looking up at the ceiling and making eye contact with another angel, the pressure released all at once.
A gelatinous red substance that looked like thickened blood spurted out of her belly button.
42. Exoskeleton
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43. We Have To Keep Fighting
Jenny smashed into the Wretched Angel with her elbow and knee half a second before it reached Susan. The impact felt like an explosion, and she felt a jarring vibration run through her body. The angel''s green covering cracked: its face where her elbow broke its cheek, and its side, struck by her knee. Then it rocketed away, blood gushing from its mouth, and crashed into the hallway wall with a satisfying boom that dislodged even more debris and dust from above.
Susan had fallen from the impact, the wind battering her. Mrs. Monique stared, holding her spear, unsure what to do. Jenny realized that from their perspective, Jenny had popped out of nowhere covered in blood. Chunks and strands of flesh slid off her crimson covering; blood glistened on her scales and her face. She shuddered, realizing she¡¯d accelerated through the herd of undead students. It wasn¡¯t like attacking an angel. The students were soft human flesh and each one had burst like a water balloon. But her biggest realization?
The Instant Acceleration and the impact hadn''t hurt! Her increased durability was holding up.
The second Wretched Angel screeched as it lumbered toward them, its heavy footsteps thundering through the floor. This one was purplish-black. Strong, but it didn''t matter. Through her tendrils, she sensed the air the angel displaced, sensed its every breath, and Jenny spun. Light flashed in her hand. Her hatchet cut through the creature''s side, and it collapsed in a heap at Mrs. Monique''s legs. Its guts spilled as it writhed in pain, its body nearly split in half. It tried to get up and kept slipping on its blood pooling beneath it.
+2 Energy
Jenny was about to finish it off when she realized Susan and Mrs. Monique should be the ones instead. That way they''d get more Experience and Energy. The other Wretched Angel dislodged itself from the wall, its green covering falling apart where Jenny had struck it, and it let out a weak roar. It rushed Jenny, limping on all fours before pouncing, trying to claw her up. She stepped to the side. Her hatchet snapped upward, disconnecting the creature''s arm with a flash of golden light. It screamed in her ear, but Jenny struck again, removing the other arm at the elbow, and it landed hard, armless and bleeding uncontrollably from its stumps, teeth mashing in desperation.
+2 Energy
+2 Energy
She grabbed it by the hair and dragged it over to Susan. Jenny couldn''t look them in the eyes. She wiped blood off her brow as it dribbled down over her left eye. Something squishy had bounced off her lips, and she could still taste it. "You guys need to kill them so you can get stronger."
Susan didn¡¯t move. She just stared at the angel struggling in front of her. The creature was trying to wriggle forward like a worm, its teeth dangerously close to Susan¡¯s legs, but if it went for a bite, Jenny would behead it. Her tendrils would sense any dangerous movement, and they could taste the desperate hunger in the struggling creatures; it hardly matched her own ravenous cravings, and she had to look away from Susan.
Anger swirled like smoke in her lungs. It sizzled, and the urge to scream kept threatening to overcome her, but lingering between that furious desire, was a strange satisfaction. She hated what she''d become, hated that she''d thoroughly enjoyed cutting the angels apart and rendering them helpless. Strength pulsed through her, and it was such a contrast to her helpless, falling-apart state that it felt euphoric. She knew it was horrid, knew it was terrible. Knew she''d become something truly awful.
She''d rushed through a crowd of dead students, and she hadn''t even flinched even as they burst open. Student blood dribbled over her scales and made her crimson covering shine. She shoved all those feelings down, compressing them into a little cube, the same way she''d do when thinking about her life, her mom, and all the bullshit. Once this is over, once I''m free... I''ll figure my feelings out.
She was much, much stronger now, and even though only a few levels separated her from these Wretched Angels, the difference was astonishing. With her increased stats, her powerful weapon, her exoskeleton, and her skills, she felt unstoppable. But she knew that if she stopped, the dark thoughts rumbling inside her head would become all too real; she had to keep killing and getting stronger.
Susan still hadn¡¯t taken any action. Her cattle prod lay dormant in her hand, and she was trembling. It was Mrs. Monique who finally finished the angels off after a moment of hesitation. She jabbed them through the chests, aiming for their hearts, and the creatures stopped hissing in pain.
The notifications appeared in Jenny¡¯s head:
You have defeated Wretched Angel (Level 22)
Experience has been awarded
+100 Energy
You have defeated Wretched Angel (Level 25)
Experience has been awarded
+100 Energy
"Holy shit," swore the librarian, letting her blood-covered spear clatter to the floor as she clutched her head, her one eye bulging. She looked like she was about to throw up.
Human (level 12) (stage ii)
Jenny almost did a double take. The librarian had leveled up so quickly off the two Wretched Angels. It was like farming high leveled monsters in a game with a newbie friend, but why hadn''t Susan struck the creatures? She could''ve leveled at least a few times as well.
Susan stayed on her knees, averting her eyes and clutching her cattle prod so hard her knuckles looked like they''d burst through her skin. It wasn¡¯t just exhaustion; something else was bothering her, and Jenny couldn¡¯t figure out what.
Mrs. Monique stepped aside to throw up. Her body was adjusting to the rapid leveling, and no doubt she was figuring out her stats and her new skills. Jenny noticed the spear had gotten stronger too. It now registered as Tier 2.
The mass of undead students and angels continued approaching, crawling over rubble, and tripping over each other. Many of them were splattered with blood from Jenny¡¯s Instant Acceleration. But they were hindered by the large chunks of the ceiling partially blocking the hallway and Jenny¡¯s babies. The babies snarled and threw themselves at the students, pushing the crowd back.
Jenny crouched and touched Susan''s shoulder, worry making her chest want to collapse. "We have to keep fighting. Remember? It''s just like a game." She echoed the words she''d told Susan in front of their English class when all of this began.
Susan blinked away tears. The bags under her eyes looked darker than before. Her lips quivered, and she opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but all she managed was a weak choking sob.
Are you sure nothing can help her? Not even that fortification potion I used? Jenny remembered how it had boosted all her stats. If it could help Susan even a little bit, then the cost of Energy was more than justified.
It will strengthen her. But without proper rest -
Jenny''s hand filled with golden light. The vial appeared with the creamy orange liquid, and she pushed it into Susan''s hands, feeling pitiful. Susan had given up so much to heal Jenny, and this was all she could do in return.
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"You guys have to get upstairs," said Jenny finally, searching and failing to find any words of comfort. They were surrounded by their dead classmates. The hallway had collapsed and looked like a warzone. And they were at their wit¡¯s end. There were no words of comfort for this. Only survival. And she couldn¡¯t draw upon healing light in the way Susan had. She didn¡¯t think a hug would be effective either when she was covered in bits of human flesh and looked like a monster.
"Why?" asked Susan, her lips barely moving, her eyes fixed on the glowing orange potion in her hand.
Jenny realized she was smearing blood on her best friend''s shoulder. But there was already so much dried blood on both of them. She helped Susan stand, half pulling her to her feet.
"I don''t want to leave you again," whispered Susan, urgency cutting through her voice. "You need me."
"I need you alive," said Jenny. It was unfair. Unfair. Susan had saved her, found her literally dead and pulled her back from that horrid world, and all Jenny could do was repeat platitudes. "But right now. You need to get back to the library, and the only way there is upstairs."
Mrs. Monique marched toward them. Light flashed in her hand and her spear returned to it, the same way Jenny''s hatchet did. The librarian seemed to be standing taller, her shoulders wider. She nodded at Jenny. Then wrapped her other arm around Susan''s shoulders. "You need to rest,¡± she said. ¡°We need to get you somewhere safe.¡±
Behind them, the crowd of moaning and screaming students was slipping through. Despite the babies¡¯ best efforts, several people pushed forward and fell flat on their faces. Then they raised their heads and began crawling toward Jenny, crying and salivating and not caring where they placed their hands or bodies in the rubble. They moved like lizards, and Jenny¡¯s tendrils shuddered in anticipation. But one of the babies set upon them before it could get close enough. This wasn¡¯t going to hold much longer.
¡°Take that stairwell,¡± said Jenny firmly, pointing to the far end of the physics wing, near the emergency exit that would¡¯ve led them outside. ¡°You can take it to the third floor and cross over.¡± Then Jenny remembered that Miriam was still on the second floor. ¡°But you¡¯ll have to stop by the chem lecture rooms.¡±
"The lecture rooms?" asked Mrs. Monique. She wanted to get to the library as soon as possible and come back with reinforcements.
Jenny took a breath. "I left someone there. Miriam. She''s with some other students too, I think. We got separated in a fight."
Susan finally lifted her head. She was swaying on her legs, holding the cattle prod and the potion to her chest. "Miriam?" she whispered in disbelief. ¡°Miriam¡¯s still alive?¡±
"I found her in a closet," said Jenny, shaking her head. "But she''s safe. I think. I don''t know. It was room 223, the honors chem room in front of my locker."
"What are you gonna do?" asked Susan, looking over Jenny¡¯s shoulder with a miserable look to the wailing crowd.
Jenny knew what her best friend was thinking. How many more of their classmates would Jenny have to butcher?
Human Population Remaining: 21
She forced herself to keep from flinching. She¡¯d ignored that notification for a while now, but almost reflexively pulled it up, and the number had dropped even further. Things were nearing the end. The number was counting down the inevitable. It''d been stupid and childish to ignore it this whole time.
"I gotta end this," said Jenny quietly, half speaking to herself. Then she forced herself to smile because Susan''s face twisted with worry. And before her best friend could ask what ending this would mean, Jenny explained, "I think if I kill the Desecrated Angel that''s doing all this, then it''ll stop. The dead can stay dead."
It wouldn¡¯t end the Survival Challenge, but at least if she killed that thing... not only would she be even stronger, but maybe it would provide enough Energy to figure something out. An idea was brewing, taking shape, something she¡¯d been thinking about since that other world collapsed and Susan had pulled her soul back into her body.
Jenny¡¯s tendrils snapped, and she sensed where the flashlight had rolled to a stop between a chunk of the wall. She picked it up and flicked it on, careful not to point it at her left eye. She didn¡¯t want to say goodbye. Especially not while looking like this. ¡°I won¡¯t let any of them come after you. So, get somewhere safe, okay?¡±
Tears filled Susan¡¯s eyes. She nodded and sniffled. Then she inhaled deeply through her nose and downed the potion of fortification. Color returned to her cheeks and she straightened slightly, though the bags under her eyes remained. She took the flashlight from Jenny¡¯s hand, their fingers brushing. They stared at each other for a long moment, before Jenny turned away.
But Susan tapped Jenny¡¯s chest with the flashlight. The scales clinked like glass. She was breathing hard through her nose. ¡°Stop that thing and hurry back.¡±
Jenny nodded, not trusting herself to say anything more. Then she searched for the nearest baby.
It seemed to sense she wanted their attention, and it waddled over. This one had large yellow eyes and a shock of hair sticking out of its head, making it look like a pineapple. It was round and pudgy, but so caked in dust and dried blood that Jenny couldn¡¯t tell its gender. But it stared at her, eyes widening, waiting for her to say something, and she fought the urge to pick it up and squeeze it.
¡°Keep protecting them, okay? All of you guys.¡± She pointed back at Susan and Mrs. Monique to emphasize it. ¡°Don¡¯t let anything happen to them.¡±
The baby gurgled. Then nodded. And she knew, by some instinctual unexplainable pull that it understood. That they all understood. They peeled themselves off the undead humans wriggling on the floor and away from the herd trying to get to Jenny.
And Jenny stood, squaring her shoulders, preparing herself for what she had to do. She backed away slowly, hatchet in hand, watching the herd''s approach, watching them moan and crawl over one another and cut themselves open on exposed rods.
This is for the best, she told herself, even as her heart threatened to fall apart with each beat. Susan had pumped my heart. But Susan couldn''t fight in her current state. She needed rest. She needed to get somewhere safe. And this way, they could help Miriam too, and Jenny could focus on killing the Desecrated Angel.
After all, Susan was the good one. The sweet one. The one who cared about others and bettering the world, and all Jenny wanted to do was run away and be selfish and break things. Susan was the who one preferred playing support but she would still be the shot caller. The navigator. Wanting everyone else to be playing at their best.
And even in this hell, that innate kindness reflected in her abilities. Her weapon shocked and paralyzed. Her skill was to turn into literal light and heal at the cost of herself. She wasn''t a killer, and there was no way she¡¯d be able to fight the undead students.
Jenny heard the hallway door shut behind her. They were gone, leaving Jenny to face this part of the nightmare alone. She was alone again. But she was stronger; she¡¯d become a monster, hadn¡¯t she? She¡¯d come back from the brink of death, and now she could do what Susan never hesitated to do. Sacrifice herself.
Jenny would sacrifice whatever she had to. She would harness her anger and use it for something other than just crying and self-loathing. She stared down at the approaching students, their moans and sobbing filling her ears like she was drowning in ooze.
So many were covered in blood and viscera, missing limbs and parts of their faces, tripping. They were crying, and Jenny told herself it wasn¡¯t the same. They were already dead. She wasn¡¯t killing anyone. She was setting them free. If they could feel pain, then she''d end it as quickly as she could. She''d end their suffering.
But saying that was one thing. It was much easier to cut an angel who looked like a malnourished human than a student dressed in normal clothes, torn up and battered and wailing. It had to be done. She wanted the Energy, she wanted to set them free, and she needed to get to the Desecrated Angel.
Rage surged through Jenny. Then she ran forward, swinging her hatchet, and slashed through the first student.
A girl with her hair tied back. Her left cheek was ripped open, her eyes wide with tears spilling down her face and mixing with the dried blood. Probably a freshman. Jenny''s hatchet cut through the girl''s head with a golden shimmer. The blue light faded from her eyes before the body hit the floor.
+4 Energy
The undead humans gave more Energy... did that mean they felt more pain? She squashed that thought.
The next was a boy about a foot taller than her. She thought she recognized him from lunch or something. She buried her hatchet in his chest, slicing through his heart. Blood splattered her face, but she kept going, systematically working through the rest of them. Her tendrils snapped and twitched, sensing their movements, making it easier for her to step where she needed to.
She moved quickly and efficiently, slashing and slicing, each time with golden light shimmering and a notification in her head. She was working her way back through the chem lab.
+4 Energy
+4 Energy
+4 Energy
A furious scream built up inside her as more faces she recognized burst open, the moans and wailing surrounded her, and she slashed through children and adults and the undead angels and the confused tarnished ones whose fingernails scraped Jenny''s exoskeleton.
She stomped one of the angel''s heads flat. Its insides gushed out of every orifice. She wanted to explode with flame. Wanted to burn them all to ashes, but she held that skill back. She kept picturing the boy in the stairwell, and she didn''t want to burn a human, even if they were undead, like that.
+2 Energy
¡°Eve?¡± she whispered, pausing as her fellow students tried to grab her, but they didn¡¯t have the strength to move her. Their faces were so close, and she caught her breath, trying to figure out the next step. More gathered from the hall. Still, others rained down from above. She saw more Tarnished Angels and Wretched Angels among them; they registered notifications in her head. ¡°What does the Desecrated Angel want? Why''s it doing this? Why''s it so obsessed with me?¡±
I believe it wants to end the Survival Challenge.
44. Feeding (Susan)
Susan knew healing Jenny had cost her severely. She¡¯d know it as she was pouring her soul into the light, the rainbows twisting and spiraling and encasing Jenny before seeping into her skin. She¡¯d been squeezing Jenny¡¯s heart, and she swore she could still feel her fingers wrapped around it, desperately trying to keep her best friend alive.
And she dreaded to think what might''ve happened if she hadn''t increased her stamina before finding Jenny. Susan kept replaying that moment in her head. Those empty eyes. The gruesome holes in Jenny''s side and leg. Her teeth missing, and those desperate pained whispers as she begged Susan to leave her to die.
Jenny''s transformation, and the look on her face when she''d dragged the Wretched Angels over for Susan to butcher. What was her best friend turning into?
Susan felt like she was walking underwater. Like her feet each weighed a ton. Her muscles burned from the effort as she followed Mrs. Monique through the heavy blue door, exiting the ruined physics wing, away from Jenny. The babies scurried through.
Pressure accumulated on her eyeballs. It hurt to blink. It hurt to turn her head and look at anything. She was thirsty and hungry and exhausted all at once; all she wanted was to climb into a comfy bed, rest her head on a pillow and pull the blankets over her face. She didn''t care how filthy she was. She just wanted to sleep.
Hell, she could lie down in this section of the hallway. It was a small open space that the Muslim Student Association club used for prayers sometimes, a part of the school that was often forgotten. On the opposite end was an emergency exit, and to their right was the stairwell. There weren¡¯t any bodies here, but the walls and the door were stained with bloody handprints and smears.
The orange potion Jenny had made seemed to help. Susan dismissed the notification and drank it, not caring what it was, only that Jenny had made it for her. It tasted sweet and warm and delicious, and Susan almost wished she''d kept the empty flask just to sniff it. But it had restored her strength to some degree. Her heart had steadied. Her body felt denser somehow, and breathing didn''t make her head spin as much anymore. Though she was exhausted, she could at least move.
Susan Brown
Human (stage ii) (Level 10)
Age: 6,870 days
Stats:
Power: 10 (+10)
Durability: 10 (+10)
Stamina: 30 (+10)
Agility: 11 (+10)
Stat points available: (0)
Energy Available: (182)
She could walk without leaning on Mrs. Monique. Which was better than being a complete burden. And it gave them more of a fighting chance if they ran into anything.
While the boosted stats felt somewhat good, there was a notification alerting her that it would be temporary. She didn¡¯t care. Even with the potion warm in her belly, she was still exhausted. But at least she was a little bit stronger, so that in a worst-case scenario, she wouldn¡¯t be totally helpless.
She hated having to separate from Jenny again. She kept seeing Jenny near death, eyes completely white, bleeding all over, buried under a pile of angels. Over and over, the thoughts attacked her, and she had to remind herself that she''d saved her best friend.
But Jenny was... Jenny was...
Susan couldn¡¯t understand what Jenny was. She''d only just begun to get a grip on their situation, the flesh-hungry angels, the school ripped away from the world, and all her dead friends and teachers. But now even the dead were assaulting them? The other students were up and foaming at the mouth and trying to kill them too?
This was too much. Too much. She should still be with her best friend. Should still have her back. Why was she running away and leaving Jenny to fight them all alone?
"Third floor," whispered Mrs. Monique from ahead. She''d taken the lead once they entered the stairwell. She took each step slowly and carefully, as though the stairwell might crack open at any moment like an egg and drop them into the basement below.
That was where that monstrous thing Jenny described was waiting. Echoes of hissing and screams rose from the stairs leading to the basement, and Susan tried her best to ignore them. But her heart was beating so loudly. Surely that Desecrated Angel or whatever could hear it too?
She focused for a moment on the babies, pausing halfway up the stairwell to catch her breath. They were freaking her out less and less, and Jenny had been the one to ask them to protect her. Somehow that made her feel better. She remembered the fierce determination on Jenny''s healed face.
Okay, she told herself. She had a job to do now. Find Miriam and get her to the library. If Miriam was still alright. Susan didn''t want to delude herself.
Miriam always seemed sickly and out of it. For a while, Susan thought Miriam was a snob who pretended like she was better than everyone else, but then realized the poor girl was so used to being picked on and harassed, that she preferred to keep to herself. Which Susan felt sorry for. But still, it was a miracle Miriam was alive. Maybe Jenny found her and kept her safe.
Or maybe Miriam had gotten really strong somehow? Anything was possible with this system in their heads. But then why wasn''t Miriam with Jenny or the others? Susan hoped the girl wasn''t injured or anything.
She thought about Oliver and his legs. The stumps swinging as the larger boy carried him. She sighed, grabbing the guardrail and pulling herself up. She was too weak. She wouldn''t be able to heal anyone else for a while no matter how much she wanted to. She tried to focus and bring out her light again.
But the most she managed was a tiny sparkle, a little tease of a glow that tickled at the tip of her nose and across her teeth, and she knew she was completely burnt out.
The babies seemed to notice her discomfort. One touched her hand, and she almost flicked her cattle prod on. They were tiny. Like little toddlers, but caked in so much dust and dried blood they looked like little monsters. She remembered them moving through the rubble and how they seemed indestructible. Nothing hurt them. She¡¯d seen one bounce off an exposed metal rod without injury. She wondered if that was a biological thing. A natural defense mechanism for infant angels.
Roughly a dozen of them accompanied her. She wasn''t sure about the exact count. They kept moving. They waddled up on all fours, climbing quickly and then waiting for her to catch up. Most of them led the way. Two of them held back and stayed right beside Susan. Three or four of them stayed further behind, bringing up the rear.
Angel babies, she kept thinking. Why weren''t they trying to eat her? Would they grow into Tarnished Angels?
Somehow that didn''t make sense, and she thought about the angel in the library. About how its pupil had shown up and how all these babies had pupils. That couldn¡¯t be a coincidence.
And why were they listening to Jenny? They''d seemed strangely attached to her. Was that because of what Jenny had done? Were they her babies?
No way. That was an insane thought, even considering how insane everything was. But she couldn''t help but remember how that red stuff had burst out of Jenny''s navel the same way the angel in the library had transformed into a Wretched Angel.
"Fuck," she whispered, and Mrs. Monique rushed back.
"Do you need to rest?"
Susan looked into Mrs. Monique''s one eye and knew the librarian was only asking out of sympathy. She must look terrible. She shook her head. It was clear Mrs. Monique wanted to continue as quickly as possible, and Susan couldn''t blame her. They don''t want to get stuck in a tight stairwell if something strong attacked.
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As soon as Mrs. Monique turned away, the babies screeched and rushed ahead. Then they heard footsteps. Lumbering heavy footsteps and thuds.
One of the babies beside Susan gurgled softly. Mrs. Monique clicked on her flashlight and turned the corner, the sudden light surprisingly bright. Mrs. Monique swore under her breath.
The wails that echoed down the stairwell were much worse than the hissing and screeching of angels. Because at least the angels were living things. The bodies of the other students and teachers? Their eyes glowing blue. The familiar faces she¡¯d seen every day for years... that was a horror she couldn¡¯t wrap her thoughts around. How was she supposed to face that?
Mrs. Monique passed her the flashlight and then rushed ahead with the babies. The sounds of violence echoed all over the stairwell, and Susan squeezed the flashlight and her cattle prod tight. It was like they were all Jenny. Beyond dead. Their bodies torn and falling apart. Driven forward by some desire that made no sense. No notifications. No levels. No way to discern them other than their blue eyes.They were actual zombies.
Susan climbed and turned the corner to see Mrs. Monique spear a student through the throat. A boy. Probably a year or two younger than her. His face was already torn, his cheek flapping as he struggled. He clutched the spear feebly, blood gushing down his chin. The blue glow faded from his eyes and he went limp.
The babies dragged the next person down, an adult that Susan didn''t recognize, and they bit through their neck. Susan flashed back to seeing Mrs. Rivera get chewed up in front of her.
She felt useless as they worked their way up the stairwell. Susan kept the flashlight ready in case an angel appeared. Her cattle prod on if anything got passed Mrs. Monique or the babies. They passed by the second-floor door, and Susan couldn''t bring herself to look through the shattered window. They continued climbing.
They ran into four more students and another teacher, a large woman who Susan recognized as the new assistant principal for the Biology Department. She¡¯d only started this year, and Susan didn¡¯t remember her name. She¡¯d been wearing a suit, but an angel had ripped through her chest and her neck.
Mrs. Monique gutted the sobbing woman, swiping the sharp end of the spear horizontally. The former assistant principal screamed in pain as her stomach split open. Glistening intestines spilled out, and she was still trying to grab Mrs. Monique who struck her again.
The woman stumbled backward until her head smacked against the wall. Clutching her sides and gasping for air, crying, she slumped down. Her intestines spilled over her thighs. The blue glow faded from her eyes and she lay still. Susan thought the assistant principal had a kind face that was once rosy and full of life.
She knew it was pointless to feel guilty. They were already dead, but their screaming sounded too real. Their pain seemed too real. And if she could just use Valescent Light, she was sure they''d knock out instantly. That''s what happened with the angels on top of Jenny, and she didn''t want them to feel any more pain. She especially hated their screaming as the babies chewed and ripped them apart, and she cringed at the sounds of the babies chewing and swallowing. She¡¯d almost forgotten they were monstrous.
When they climbed the final flight of stairs, Susan almost slipped on blood and trying not to look at the girl who Mrs. Monique silenced with a thrust through the heart, her breath caught in her throat.
Right next to the doorway leading into the biology wing, a body dragged itself across the floor. And Susan had to scream for the babies to stop just as they were about to set upon the boy. Just as Mrs. Monique wrenched her spear free and was about to attack as well.
Miraculously, the babies listened. They tripped and scrambled and one of them rolled into the boy on the floor then scampered away. Mrs. Monique held her breath, looking ready to strike, and Susan placed the flashlight on the floor.
The boy''s eyes were glowing. His long brown hair, the hair Susan had stroked out of his eyes so many times, covered his face. His muscular build clearly visible through his torn and stained varsity jacket. A chunk of flesh was missing from his shoulder. His legs were chewed up in a nasty way, to the point she swore she could see his bones. His thighs were shredded to bits.
He clearly couldn''t stand, and he was trying to move forward on his arms, leaving behind a trail of glistening blood. One of his arms was bent the wrong way, the muscle of his forearm flapping against the floor. His other hand had no fingers. It was Kevin, and he was sobbing.
Mrs. Monique said something franticly, but Susan wasn''t listening. Her feet moved on their own, bringing her closer to Kevin. She clicked on her cattle prod. The static buzzing snapped soothingly in her hand. She wasn¡¯t sure what she was going to do. But she kept thinking about that angel in the library, kept wondering if people were trapped inside these undead bodies. Maybe she was just hoping. Maybe she was just stupid. But she was going to try.
This was the stairwell that she and Kevin used to sneak off to during free periods together. Where they''d hold each other and he''d whisper in her ear and his lips would find hers. He''d been so warm and confident and comforting...
This must''ve been where he and Leslie were hanging out when the survival challenge started, and she tried not to picture them together. Tried not to picture Leslie letting him feel her up.
The babies watched her curiously. Mrs. Monique touched her shoulder, but Susan dropped to her knees in front of Kevin, staring into his glowing blue eyes as he lifted his chin off the floor. His eyes were supposed to be brown and soft.
She felt the tickle in her belly as she prepared to send electricity through the prod. It wasn''t the same pull she felt with Valescent Light. This seemed to draw on her stamina only, but she knew she couldn''t overdo it. Passing out here would be even stupider than what she was about to do.
¡°I don¡¯t think it works like that,¡± said Mrs. Monique softly.
¡°What if it does?¡± whispered Susan. ¡°What if I can bring him back?¡± But she was speaking mostly to herself. She¡¯d already made up her mind about trying.
Dumb thoughts kept surfacing. How she insisted on waiting till graduation before they got intimate. How she thought she might''ve loved him. How she hated the perverted jokes he and his friends would make about Jenny and other girls. How she was stupid for thinking he was the best guy ever because he''d been sweet to her.
How she was stupid because all she ever wanted was to be held and told she was loved.
She jammed her cattle prod into one of his glowing blue eyes. It burst, and he screamed, and she was pretty sure she screamed too. Liquid rushed down his cheek, and there was a squelch, and the prod slipped deeper inside his skull until she felt a rubbery resistance and let loose.
Lightning burst from the back of Kevin''s head, frying his hair and striking the wall. Blue bolts flashed and crackled and sent shadows dancing all over the stairwell, and Susan stopped screaming as Kevin jerked and convulsed. She held on until she knew she''d collapse, trying to pour as much as she could into the attack, hoping beyond any reasonable amount of hope for another miracle. Maybe she could save others too. Maybe nobody else had to actually die and suffer.
Just before she passed out, she released her attack and let go of the cattle prod, and the lightning stopped. The stairwell darkened. Burnt hair and flesh stung Susan''s nose. She was breathing hard, staring, trying not to cry. Kevin had gone rigid, his head still in the air, his back arched.
The blue light faded from his remaining eye. It was brown again. He blinked, and for a second it seemed like he was about to say something. His eye widened; Susan''s prod was still buried in the other socket. His lips twitched. Tears and the mess of his ruined eye ran down his cheeks.
Mrs. Monique gasped, stepping forward to help and Susan was just about to touch his face when Kevin collapsed. He hit the floor with a terrible bang, hammering the cattle prod deeper through his brain, and went still. No notification had come up at all. The stairwell was as silent as death.
Susan bit her lip. She''d expected as much. She raised his head, thinking how this would now be the last time she''d ever hold his head, and she held him by the forehead as she wrenched her cattle prod free. It was glistening and gooey, and his other eye seemed to follow her, but it was a trick of the flashlight. He was dead. And there really was nothing she could do about it.
"I''m sorry," whispered Mrs. Monique who helped her stand.
Susan shook her head. At least she knew for sure now. Whatever these undead things were, they were completely gone. There was no way to bring them back. A hollow sadness settled in her chest. Somehow this would all end, and everyone she once knew and cared about would be dead... if she didn¡¯t die as well. There was no point in mourning anyone yet. For now, she had to survive. Then she could mourn.
The babies left Kevin''s body alone, and Mrs. Monique held the door open into the third floor. The veil seemed thicker somehow, swirling like mist. An eerie quiet hung over their heads. The flashlight beamed around, revealing bloody stains and chunks of flesh and limbs. There weren''t any more bodies, and they quickly moved down the hall, expecting something to burst out of the bio labs any second. Susan¡¯s breathing grew increasingly ragged, and she was worried now that the potion would run out and she¡¯d collapse. But she didn¡¯t make a sound. She marched forward.
Every once in a while, she thought she saw movement in the corner of her eyes, but it was the light bouncing off one of the babies. One of them picked up an arm and chewed the torn fleshy end, the fingers dragging on the floor. Susan asked it not to, and its eyes widened before it stopped sucking. Then it dropped the arm and waddled ahead.
Anxiety filled Susan''s chest. Something felt off in a way she couldn¡¯t quite explain. This was the floor Jenny and Susan had started on, on the other side of the building. She was trying not to think about Kevin, trying to think about Jenny, and trying to focus on crossing to the other stairwell and getting downstairs to find Miriam.
At the end of this hallway, Mrs. Monique slowly pushed one of the double doors open with her shoulder and froze. "Something''s moving out there," she said in a hushed tone. She¡¯d pointed the flashlight at the floor, but slowly she raised it.
With the door open, Susan thought she heard wind shushing through the halls. She strained to listen. The babies quieted as well, and then she heard what sounded like a faint wail. Followed by whimpering.
¡°Fuck,¡± spat Mrs. Monique.
Susan stepped past the librarian to get a better look. A bubble of green light shimmered on the other end of the hall, near the stairwell they''d planned on taking down to the chemistry wing. It was right in front of the music room. The green light seemed to collapse and expand, as though constantly being generated and absorbed. Susan had to squint to see properly, but she saw someone in the midst of that bubble. When the green light faded for a moment, she recognized the pink helmet. The one she¡¯d given Jenny.
She was sure of it. How many other pink helmets could there be in the building right now? It was on a girl''s head. A girl wearing a denim shirt. She was on all fours, hunched over a body and... It looked like she was feeding. A notification burst through Susan''s thoughts as she grabbed the door for balance:
Human (Level 16) (stage ii)
45. Unsightly Things (Leslie)
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?
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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 move, 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.
46. Like a Nail Hammered into Wood
"What does the Desecrated Angel want? Why''s it doing this? Why''s it so obsessed with me?"
I believe it wants to end the Survival Challenge.
Jenny shuddered like when she was a kid, crawling out of bed in the middle of the night, anxiety making her want to throw up, and the floor would creak. And she''d be terrified she''d wake her mom who was exhausted from work.
Students crowded around her like a tidal wave of sobbing bodies. They scraped her chest, fingernails snapping off on the red scales of her exoskeleton. They grabbed her arms and legs, but couldn''t budge her at all. All they could do was moan and wail and scream in her face, breaths reeking of rot, as though begging her to just do what that angel wanted. So they could rest.
End? End the Survival Challenge? She switched back to thinking the thoughts, too afraid to voice what that could mean. What does that have to do with me? How can an angel end this?
She wrenched her arm away from a boy who''d wrapped himself around it, groaning and grunting and sliding on the floor as he tried to pull her away. But she wasn''t the severed dying person she''d been before. She wasn¡¯t weak and falling apart. When she wrenched her arm away, he went spinning, tumbling through several bodies. His head bounced off a chunk of rubble with an ugly crack. But he didn''t seem to care as blood rushed down his face. He blinked his glowing blue eyes then crawled toward her as others rushed to fill his space.
Your blood flows through the Desecrated Angel. I believe it sensed your potential and your spirit. With enough of your blood, with enough living human blood, it can complete its metamorphosis and become a true contender for the Survival Challenge. Your blood is more potent.
Its what? Metamorphosis? Like a butterfly? So, if it does that... if it finishes that... it can kill us all and win? Jenny flashed back to the cocoon. The blue light surging within it. The way the striped angel kept bringing it more and more blood to drink, all the bodies piled around.
We witnessed this behavior only once before. The very last Challenge, two thousand years in the past. That was how He first entered your world.
A vision struck Jenny like a nail hammered into wood. She glimpsed a man in long white robes. He was bearded, and his beard and hair were dark and long and flowing as he levitated off the ground, arms extended. His skin was gray and metallic and shifting in that gelatinous way her exoskeleton had when it first formed. Two enormous wings unfurled from his back, white and porcelain-like in appearance.
She knew his name. Billions of people knew his name and worshipped him. A pillar of light engulfed him, connecting from the earth beneath his floating feet to the heavens above, and the desert around him erupted.
With that, the vision ended, leaving Jenny shocked even as two notifications surfaced, one after another.
Two Wretched Angels shoved their way through the crowd, launching the undead students over their shoulders or crushing their skulls without a second thought. They didn''t even pause to bite or anything; they seemed to be barreling through without care. Both were covered in dust. One was large and female, with brown hair bouncing on top of yellow-green covering.
Wretched Angel (Level 21)
The other was male and much smaller, but this one was covered in white with blue stripes and bulging with muscle. Its head ended in a large spike instead of hair; it almost looked like a shark fin cutting through a sea of dead.
Wretched Angel (Level 25)
Several Tarnished Angels ducked in and out of the throb of wailing students. They seemed utterly confused, and Jenny licked the blood off her lips, stepping back, pushing through the moaning crowd, toppling whoever was behind her.
Her tendrils snapped, slapping people across the face and shoving them back. Eyeing the approaching angels, she kept thinking about the vision. About Him. She had even more questions for Eve now, but her goal remained the same. She had to stop that Desecrated Angel; if it got her blood, it would kill everyone else and win. It would get to her world.
But even if she dove into the basement to face the Desecrated Angel right now, all the undead students and the angels would just follow her down. And the thought of suffocating under a pile of her undead classmates, sweaty limbs and desperate and wailing, while also trying to fight that powerful creature that wanted her blood...
She inhaled deeply, allowing her chest to expand. Fire swirling in the back of her throat. First thing''s first. Kill the Wretched Angels. They¡¯d be the most trouble.
But just as she readied to launch herself at them, she realized they hadn''t come after her. They moved further inside the ruined physics lab, toward the crater. And she lowered her hatchet arm, dumbstruck as the creatures jumped into the basement.
¡°Christ,¡± whispered Jenny. Then she bit her lips. Could she even swear by His name anymore? Fear struck her. Fear like the sensation she''d felt when the blue light flashed and the dead came back to life. The church. Everything her mother had pushed onto her. The world''s largest religions... Everything she''d learned and researched in history... it was all crashing down. What did it all mean
Okay, she thought. New plan. Clear the hallway. End all their suffering and put them to rest and make sure they can¡¯t keep coming after her. Then kill that piece of shit angel. With that decided, Jenny dove into the throng of screaming students, hatchet swinging, tendrils swishing through the air.
Jenny recognized faces. Each one made her stomach twist, but she refused to look at them longer than it took to slash them. She refused to remember their names; she made their deaths swift and easy, her hatchet flashing gold with each strike, removing limbs and slitting throats.
She could use Ignite and end this quickly. But Eve had advised against that. Her hatchet attacks generated Energy, while killing these undead creatures gave her nothing. She''d need all the Energy she could collect. Begrudgingly, she''d agreed.
Undead humans gave +4 Energy. The angels, either dead or undead, gave +2 regardless. She tried not to think about how she was harvesting pain.
When she came upon Tarnished Angels who were still alive, she didn¡¯t hold back. She slashed them repeatedly, chopping limbs off one at a time before kicking them away to die slowly in the rubble. She wanted them to suffer. To scream in agony, limbless and bleeding out, if only to fill the hallway with something other than the wailing of her fellow students.
She got notifications of their death and received Energy and experience. But she didn''t care. It was the tear-stricken eyes radiating blue light that bothered her. She worked systematically through the crowd as more and more bodies and angels jumped down from above or spilled in from the lobby. She noticed several more Wretched Angels diving below, and her curiosity and dread grew and grew, even as the numbers racked up in her head.
+4 Energy
+4 Energy
+2 Energy
+4 Energy
It felt like the entire school population was wriggling through the ruined hall. Even though she knew that couldn''t be true. Many of them were already eaten. Many of them were ripped apart, their bodies spread all over the building.
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It was a flurry of clothes, colorful and covered in blood. She couldn''t meet their eyes. Their sneakers were easier to look at. And she tried not to think about how they were all really just kids. They''d all been killed already, torn and chewed to death by angels, and here she was, killing them again.
Worse still, she kept thinking about biting into them. Their soft, tender flesh, though dead for a while, would still be delicious. Their blood would fill her body so nicely, would satiate her growing thirst, and with horror, she felt a slurp through one of her tendrils, and recoiled.
The tendril had burst through a boy''s navel, through his hoodie and into his bellybutton, and it had slurped just as the striped angel in the lab room above had with its lips latched onto her ruined nose.
A rippling shiver went through her exoskeleton, as though it was absorbing the blood. Making the blood a part of itself, of her, and growing. A vibration began between her legs that climbed inwardly through her, and it felt good. She tasted the metallic sweetness of blood with her entire body. As though every single one of her cells were drinking it in.
Her knees almost went weak; she couldn''t stop herself. She kept sucking more and more. The blood coursing through her tendril as the boy dropped to his knees, eyes wide with fright, mouth agape as his face thinned out. He couldn''t move at all, and she stood in front of him, her tendril fastened to his navel, sucking. Sucking. Sucking.
Another tendril reached for someone else, and she cried out, grabbing the first and wrenching it free from the boy. The blue light in his eyes shuddered, and Jenny slashed his neck. Golden light shimmered, blood squirted all over, and she struggled with the urge to latch onto more. She could latch onto four people at a time and drink her fill and her exoskeleton would only grow stronger. Shouldn¡¯t she do that? Shouldn¡¯t she make herself as strong as possible before facing the Desecrated Angel?
Before she could react, she caught sight of Mr. Wilkins, her guidance counselor. He was a large, round man who wore colorful, Hawaiian print shirts. His glasses were missing, but even with his eyes glowing blue, even with his nose hanging by loose skin, there was a kindness to him that quelled her rising nausea.
She''d only spoken to him a few times, but she missed sitting in his office while he explained her college opportunities and what she could do. When he''d interviewed her, trying to learn more about her so he could write a proper recommendation letter. He was always smiling, always prepared to figure things out, and now his chest was torn open.
Flesh was missing from his neck and sides. Her tendrils latched onto the wounds even as he stomped closer, moaning and reaching for her. His blood would taste so good... and he was an adult. Surely that was less guilt-inducing? Her tendrils buried into his flesh, all four of them, holding him in place as his arms swung madly for her.
She inhaled noisily through her nose, forced herself to regain control of her tendrils, and tore them off Mrs. Wilkins. She ducked as he burst forward, dodging his arms, and swung upward, catching him on the chin with her hatchet and slicing through his face with a burst of golden light.
+4 Energy
The front of his head split in half as he collapsed. Several students tripped over his large body, and Jenny dashed away from them with a burst of Instant Acceleration to steady herself. To keep her tendrils away from the others.
She was disgusted with herself. Disgusted by how good it felt. Disgusted how she didn''t even feel sick. It was more like she''d just had a delicious meal after a long day at school. And she clenched her fists, her tendrils compressing.
She''d rushed deeper into the collapsed lab room. Rubble crushed into dust beneath her red feet. The undead humans moaned and wailed, clambering and tripping over Mr. Wilkins, trying to get to her. No, she told herself. No! She couldn''t have their blood. She wouldn''t. Not them. Maybe an angel... maybe if she came across another angel...
The hunger and thirst twisted into an ugly feeling. She thought she¡¯d rather have another metal rod or two rammed through her stomach. She had the creepy sensation that her exoskeleton was growing on its own. Did it have its own needs? This thirst didn¡¯t exist when her tendrils first formed. Was this new? Was she still changing or had she just not noticed while Susan was here?
I really am turning into a monster...
The hole in the floor gaped nearby, but the presence she''d sensed down there, that deeply rooted feeling of death, had dissipated slightly. The Desecrated Angel must be on the move, and Jenny still didn''t have a plan.
And there were still so many people left on this floor. The moaning and crying were relentless. She just wanted it to stop.
Someone in a blue uniform stumbled toward her. One of the few adults that stuck out from the crowd. She had a blue hat on. Her face was clawed up, and blood gushed down her legs from the ugly gash across her hip. Jenny didn''t know the woman by name. She didn''t know any of the security guards by name, but she knew their faces.
She knew their smiles as they welcomed everyone every morning and checked for ID. They kept the lines for the buses orderly and neat. And if there was any trouble, they were swift to respond. She''d always heard bad things about uncaring school staff, but she''d never gotten that feeling from anyone here.
Bitter, ugly rage surged through her, and she stomped forward. Her exoskeleton-covered foot cracked the floor, and several chunks around the hole collapsed into the basement, but she didn¡¯t care. Jenny launched her hatchet. Her tendrils snapped backward, generating more force for her throw.
Her hatchet rocketed away from her fingers, and she shut her eyes. She heard the first gruesome crack. Then she heard several more. Blood splattered everywhere. Dropps landing on her face and scales, and she wiped them away with her tendrils without opening her eyes. Her tendrils sucked in the blood, and she shuddered, but without being able to see, she realized something.
She could still sense. She could still feel the movements in the air and track the locations of the undead hobbling toward her. Sound wasn''t just sound that reached her ears. It was vibrations that quivered through her tendrils and into her spine. Taste and smell blended into one sense, and with all that information, a strange image of the hallway formed in her thoughts. The rubble and metal rods and tables, the holes in the ceiling and floor. Even the sweat and drying blood on all the bodies around her.
Jenny threw herself forward, drawing her hatchet back to her hand. Then she swung. And swung and swung and swung. Without vision to distract her, she flexed her consciousness through her tendrils and kept them from latching onto anyone again. No more drinking the blood of innocents.
Breaths and spittle flicked against her face and exoskeleton. Blood splashed her scales, and her exoskeleton absorbed every drop. She worked faster than before. Each step quicker than the last. Each attack flowing into the next. Her tendrils flashed, grabbing arms and pushing students out of balance so she could strike them down with ease.
On and on it went, a cruel and bloody dance. Her lips pressed tight. She hardly dared to even inhale, trusting her every movement to her expanded senses as one by one, the screaming died down.
+4 Energy
+4 Energy
+4 Energy
And she didn''t stop until she was sure not a single pair of eyes were left glowing blue. A stifling silence hung over the hallway, and Jenny finally exhaled properly and looked around her. She breathed in through her nose, a sob threatening to break free, but she shoved the emotions down. If she ever got out of this, she knew she''d spend the rest of her life going through the yearbook over and over, counting every student, every teacher and staff member, she''d just cut down.
It was one thing to fight off angels that resembled humans. But to slaughter an entire hoard of dead children forced back to life? Her classmates? People she''d had lunch with and walked to school with from the train station? What if one of them had been Susan or Oliver? What would she have done if they were the ones with glowing blue eyes?
She spat blood, her head throbbing. Her hatchet struck the floor, and she walked away, feeling dizzy, trying not to step on a severed body part. Golden light filled her hand, and a bottle of water took shape. She remembered Susan''s thing, Hydrate.
That brought her some comfort until she drank too deeply and remembered how it felt when blood gushed up her tendril and into her body. She coughed up water, choking, blinking away tears.
She spotted a girl''s head lying near her, and accidentally made eye contact. The girl had red hair. Tears were still fresh on her cheek, and she was staring unseeingly into the distance. Her brown skin was marred with blood, and she was probably a junior or sophomore, but Jenny couldn''t even tell which of the bodies were hers.
But at least it was finally quiet. No more demented crying. They could finally rest.
But Jenny couldn¡¯t. Now she had to get downstairs. She had to find that horrible creature responsible for resurrecting the dead and put a hatchet through its face.
It wanted her blood, didn¡¯t it? But what if she drank it¡¯s blood? Even as she downed more water, her thirst didn¡¯t quench. Her tendrils jerked this way and that, and she knew she wouldn¡¯t be properly satisfied from just water.
¡°Eve,¡± she whispered... thinking again about the vision she''d seen. Jesus Christ. The way Eve mentioned Him. What could that mean? How was this all connected?
Before she could figure out what to ask, blue light flashed again. Lightly this time. As though from a distance source. But the same dread sank through her chest like ice. She backed away from the crater, glancing all around her, searching with her eyes and her tendrils for any sign of trouble. But surely everyone was too cut up to be dangerous? Surely the angel couldn¡¯t bring them back to life again?
As if in response, all the bleeding body parts wiggled. Warbled screams started up like a chorus, and Jenny¡¯s face fell. Her heart snapped into pieces.
That red-haired girl''s head turned. Her eyes were glowing blue, and she bared her teeth. She spat in Jenny''s direction. Severed arms and legs twitched. Several people dragged what was left of their bodies over each other, over rubble, toward her, and it was more than she could take. Heat blossomed in Jenny¡¯s mouth. Her tendrils whipped through the air as she roared. Ignite!
47. Ashes and Prayers
Flames flickered all around Jenny. Smoke and the sulfuric stench of burnt hair and flesh stung her eyes. She''d stopped screaming, stopped trying to burn down the entire world, and all that was left was ashes and scorched rubble and quiet.
She choked on the air, and her exoskeleton shifted. The red covering slithered up her neck to cover her mouth and nose, forming a mask that filtered out the smoke and ash. All the while, she remained on her hands and knees, trying to catch her breath. Her tendrils, now large and more pronounced, swished overhead, whistling through the air. Her insides ached like she¡¯d just thrown up uncontrollably.
The tendrils had grown. They looked more like tentacles rather than thin extensions of her skin, and she realized there were tentacles now, glistening like exposed flesh, red and dark and ending in sharp points. She was trying very hard not to think about how they''d grown after sucking blood from that boy. And she definitely didn''t want to think about how that had been her desire. These things just reacted instinctually. The same way her covering had shifted into a mask so she could breathe without issue. They were remarkably intuitive.
Jenny was in the hall again. She only vaguely remembered standing in the midst of fire. Only vaguely remembered billowing flames on everything that moved until she''d run out of strength and collapsed again, catching herself with her tentacles before lowering herself to the floor.
Smoldering bits of cloth drifted down and fizzled out. Like a thick blanket of dark snow, ash covered the hallway, the rubble, the melted steel bars, and everything else. Strewn between the ashes were bones. No skeleton was complete. All the bones were blackened and crumbling, and Jenny tried not to picture the students and adults they belonged to. That she¡¯d cut down only moments ago.
A notification reached through the dark clouds of her thoughts, and she sighed, her throat aching, and let it fade away.
Ignite (tier 2): Generate flames from any part of your body.
That''s nice, she thought. But I just set fire to a bunch of people from my school that I chopped into bits so I could get the Energy...
Jenny Huang
Human (stage ii) (level 24) (blooded)
Stats:
Power: 25
Stamina: 15
Durability: 20 (+30)
Agility: 20
Stat points available: (14)
Energy available: (1048)
That was... so much Energy. And she shuddered. +4 for every attack on a human, +2 for every angel. Harvesting their pain. On top of that, there''d been several Tarnished Angels in the mix, and all the numbers and notifications had become a mess in her head.
She only felt hollow. She should feel worse, and she felt terrible that she didn''t feel worse, but there was only so much despair and horror she could feel before it turned to rage. There was nothing left to bury. No real way to assess whose ashes were whose. Nothing to put into urns. Nothing to return to their families. And she thought it was truly sick that the ashes of the angels were mixed into the ashes of the humans.
¡°I''m going to murder that thing,¡± she swore, her eyes shut tight, her tentacles swishing. Fury swelled hot and bright as though she''d used Ignite and swallowed all the flames. Explosions shook the building; distant booms rumbled through the walls and floor, but she couldn''t be sure where they were coming from.
From above where Susan had gone? Or below, where the Desecrated Angel was on the move?
It had to be from below, she decided. Most of the upper floors should be cleared by now with everything coalescing here. And even if something should attack Susan, Mrs. Monique or Jenny''s babies would protect her. Her babies seemed indestructible and she was glad she''d sent them with her. All she had to do now was finish off the Desecrated Angel so it could stop forcing the dead back to life.
She didn''t want to think about Susan or Oliver or one of her babies with glowing blue eyes, their minds warped by whatever the angel had done. Could she kill any of them? Would she let them rip her to pieces?
Was that how the Desecrated Angel planned on winning? Again, she pictured what Eve had shown her: the religious figure worshipped by so much of the world...
It wanted her blood, didn''t it? The angel was trying to win and get to her world, that much was clear. And it had some connection to Him. Some enemy of Eve. The reason Eve was here at all.
Make it make sense.
Light flashed. Her hatchet returned to her hand and she stomped back into the ruined lab room, kicking up ashes. Smoke swirling around her.
Eve wanted Jenny to birth it into her world. The angel wanted Jenny so it could... become more human and qualify to win? Was that similar to how she''d become less human? How she had these tentacle-like things now that responded like limbs? There were so many things she wanted more answers for, but what kept surfacing in her thoughts were thoughts of God, the expansion of the ¡®West¡¯, and all the detrimental effects of colonialism. The civilizations and peoples and histories plundered and lost.
Did it all tie back to Him? For Gold, God, and Glory...
Her heart raced at the thought. She felt like she was back in Sunday school, questioning the lady trying to teach them lessons from the Bible. Questioning how so many things didn''t quite match, even though she''d taken comfort in the good.
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She''d always thought of God not as the disastrous vengeful figure in the texts but as a force for good. As the universe. Even though Jenny had hated the church and her mother''s preaching and how everyone acted so hypocritically. How could you preach kindness and still find space in your heart to hate?
They''d made her feel different. Asking questions about where she was from and what she ate and the language she spoke. But she was born in the same city. She ate the same foods. And she literally spoke the same language. Still, they ostracized her until she questioned herself and was unsure who or what she was supposed to be. It only got worse when she started having feelings for Susan.
But how could she reconcile that with what Eve had shown her? Things sort of clicked into place. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them... It was one of the few lessons that had stuck with her. Mostly because it was creepy and gross and seemed to stick out of the entire message of peace and love.
She wondered if that was why her prayers were never answered. All she''d ever prayed for, cried all night and pleaded for, was peace and love. For her mom to be less stressed. For things to be less hurtful at home. And that had never come true. God had always let her down.
Had she been praying to an Angel this entire time? What even was He? Was He like Eve?
He has permeated through your world for thousands of years. Gaining the most over the previous two thousand. He has rewritten your histories. Scorched civilizations and rooted out their victors and declared Himself the one single truth.
This time, it wasn''t visions that filled her head, but things she''d read and imagined. Important things from history classes. The cultures lost to war and disease, genocides spanning the globe. The explorers claiming lands for themselves and God... Eve had shown her gods and goddesses before, and she realized every single culture''s beliefs were based on some truth. These were the challenges that led to the gods she loved reading about. They had truly existed in her world; they had been humans just like her.
The Survival Challenges existed for millenniums long forgotten. Before Him. Before even the worlds had taken shape.
It is to nurture change and nurture growth. Gods and monsters and all the stories that have shaped and expanded your world. A means for the spiritual to become flesh.
But He has perverted the Survival Challenge. He wishes to rule every world. With your world in His possession, with the material world finally under His control... there will be no end. All will be subjugated to His will...
But didn''t He already win though? The vision you showed me? The last Survival Challenge? She pictured Him again, the flowing hair and beard... the pillar of light as countless bowed before him. He made it to my world. He''s everywhere. People all over worship Him.
The man whose mind he consumed; the man your mother worships pinned to a cross. He fought. He defied Him and sacrificed himself to stop Him.
The part of Him that reached your world was separated from the flesh. Trapped as spirit in a material world. Permeating. Adjusting. Shaping your civilization for two thousand years in preparation for this Challenge.
Shouldn''t He be here then? Is He here? Dread filled her all of a sudden. The same dread she''d get from church, from her mother. That she was doing something wrong. That she had sinned and was being watched.
I am here. I have protected you.
That didn''t really comfort Jenny. She kept thinking about that other world, the one she''d woken in twice. The first time, meeting Eve as the three-headed figure. The second time, when she''d died, and the world had tried to swallow her whole. Eve was only using her too, just as He had used the man she knew as Jesus. It was all a game to them, but there was even more weight on Jenny¡¯s exoskeleton-covered shoulders now.
It was all on her back, wasn¡¯t it? Not just keeping Susan and Oliver safe, but her entire world... wasn¡¯t that too much? She was just a kid! All she¡¯d wanted was to get out of the city and live her life. All she¡¯d wanted was to tell Susan how she felt. But that all seemed so far away and pointless now.
But even if I stop this thing... then what? It only ends when one person is left? So, everyone has to die anyway. But If I die, what happens?
Then we fail and He will reign across all worlds till the end of time.
Our fates are intertwined, Jenny Huang.
But I''m stuck here. That means you''re stuck here. and I''m not just going to.... she''d pictured it. Her tentacles reacted before she could help it, snapping through the air. She''d seen herself cutting everyone down. Everyone in the library. Susan''s hurt face. Oliver who was already nearly dead. It wouldn''t be too difficult to rip them apart. After all, she¡¯d just cut down nearly a hundred students.
She could win. She could emerge as a goddess in her own right, something to rival the legends of the ancient world, something to stop Him. Is that what Eve wanted?
Eve doesn''t respond, and Jenny isn''t sure how to push the question. She''d wasted enough time. I''m going to find a way, she thought to Eve, afraid to voice the words. Afraid she might fail. So, she spoke them to give them more weight. To generate some false confidence that she hoped would turn real. "I''m going to save them. I don''t give a fuck about your challenge bullshit or Him. If Susan''s not there... then fuck the world."
She shook with rage and cold determination. Trembling. The new fingers of her left hand, the fingers that Susan had grown for her and were now covered in the red exoskeleton, curled into a glistening fist. She squeezed so hard, picturing Susan crying as she stuck her shining arm into Jenny''s chest, and Jenny''s fist caught fire. Flames licked up her entire arm, illuminating the ruined lab room and burning hot and ferocious.
This is going to be useful. Jenny glanced back at the hallway, half hoping Susan would come back. That her babies would rush back to her side. She was preparing to jump into the basement and she found herself feeling alone.
There was no point in feeling alone. She focused her attention on her feet, and her exoskeleton shifted. Melted and spread forward till five vicious claws formed around her toes. She did the same for her fingers, the ones curled around her hatchet as well as the ones on fire.
With her tentacles, she tasted the air below. But nothing lay waiting beneath her. The angel had to be up to something. But what? Why had more blue light flashed? Where did the Wretched Angels go? Her babies, the ones that had fallen during the cocoon''s eruption, weren''t down there either. Nor were the dozens of bodies that the angel must''ve woken back up.
All she felt when she reached with her tentacles was her own wants. The twisted mixture of hunger and thirst that thrummed through her muscles and made her belly ache. Her throat was parched, and there was an ache in her tentacles like she desperately needed to work them out. She was glad Susan wasn''t here. The desire to kill. To hunt. To feed. It was nearly overwhelming. And she remembered how soft Susan''s skin had looked... what if her tentacles latched onto Susan?
Would she be able to stop herself?
Kill. Kill. Kill.
She wanted to kill something. Needed to. Not another undead creature, but something living. Something trying to eat her. She could just about feel herself stabbing through an angel with a tentacle and sucking and sucking and slurping all their precious blood... it would be so satisfying.
The cravings threatened to overpower her. If it weren''t for her makeshift mask, she''d be drooling, and stranger still, she found it nearly arousing. Her body seemed to be reacting to her bloodlust, and finally, she understood. Bloodlust Ecstasy. Jenny understood why Eve might have chosen her. Why Eve kept pushing her This was who she¡¯d been all along. A vicious bloodthirsty monster pretending to be human.
She took a step forward and plummeted down into the basement, landing with a heavy crash as she broke through a desk below. She prayed earnestly for something to attack her. So she could quench this thirst.
48. The Basement
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49. Through the Eyes of an Angel
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50. A Morbid Nest
Panic-stricken, Jenny rushed away from the angel she''d just drained to completion. It lay there, an orange, mummified husk. The gym spun around her. The debris. The loose writing. The books and furniture scattered across the hardwood floors. She tasted blood.
Her tentacles swished wildly. They''d grown even thicker and longer than before. A tingling persisted in the back of her head and ran down her spine in a continuous waterfall of sensation; shudders that never quite became shudders. She wanted to throw up.
She wanted more blood. She wanted to die. She''d died. She was sure of it.
She''d lived an entire existence as an angel, fleshless and full of light, with her wings beating and the sun of another world shining on cities hanging from clouds. She''d breathed through her skin; she''d been light.
Then flesh was forced upon her. That life had only lasted a short while before she''d been transformed, mutilated. Sentenced to drown in the ravenous, all-consuming hunger. A hunger she knew all too well.
But she knew what this meant. She knew all the angels in the building had been innocent. Had been creatures of light minding their own business, forced into this survival game.
"Gah!" she screamed, stumbling into the weight room. Her tentacles slashed through every weight and machine, crumpling metal and knocking things away. Breathing hard, and trying desperately to bury the agonizing sadness, the weightful feeling that she''d died, she grabbed a barbell with two tentacles and snapped it in half. She threw the pieces over her shoulder and realized a hole had been dug above. That was how the Desecrated Angel got into the gym. It had cut through the foundation of the school.
But Jenny was only vaguely aware of it. Her world wouldn''t stop spinning; she wasn¡¯t sure if she was real. What if the angel had been the true Jenny? What if she was just some afterthought haunting what was left of her fucked up body? How could this even happen?
Angels exist beyond the parameters of linear time.
Perhaps your actions, your severing, and perhaps the actions of Susan Brown''s healing took advantage of the schism between worlds.
¡°I don''t care!¡± shouted Jenny. Her voice was muffled in the weight room. She wanted to keep screaming. Keep shouting. Just to feel alive. Just to feel like she hadn¡¯t killed a part of herself. And she was sick and tired of Eve¡¯s nonsense. She couldn¡¯t quiet her mind. Everything raced all at once.
The flashes. The students she''d attacked and ate. The way she''d ran into herself. Wanted to eat herself. Was convinced she had to eat herself. How she''d cut her own fingers off. The faces. The hunger. The agony. Susan.
Jenny swallowed the lump in her throat, remembering how the Desecrated Angel had licked her. She could still feel its tongue, slimy and wet, the breath reeking of rot and flesh. It went down her head and her back. But she¡¯d been the angel. It wasn¡¯t this body. Yet the feeling remained. The disgust. The gross feeling that she¡¯d been claimed.
She cried out again, shaking. Sweat beaded on her exoskeleton like condensation before rolling down the scales, gathering dried blood and dust. She leaned forward and grabbed her knees - but she didn''t have fingers like she used to. She had claws that encircled her crimson-covered legs, and that feeling only made things worse. She wanted to touch someone. Wanted to feel someone else just to make sure she was real.
Linear time... She sucked in deep breaths and realized she wasn''t just breathing through her mouth. Her exoskeleton could breathe as well. Her tentacles drew in air, and every little detail was only making her nausea worse.
¡°Fuck,¡± she whispered. Golden light flashed. Her hatchet returned to her hand, and squeezing its handle gave her a sense of stabilization. She¡¯d made that decision already. She wasn¡¯t human. She had to be a monster. She had to be. That was the only way to survive. To keep the others alive.
The others. That angel had the others. She¡¯d seen Dr. Lee and Leslie and everyone else who''d been in the library. Oliver, Mackenzie, and Dule had to be with them too. And Jenny understood why. She couldn''t even blame the creature. It''s exactly the thought that had crossed her mind dozens of times in the pangs of hunger. The library was the biggest source of fresh food left in the building.
If the Desecrated Angel wanted to become "complete", to become wholly flesh, then that was exactly where it should hunt.
She willed herself forward, taking shaky steps, using her tentacles to balance upright. She took the steps up to the gym equipment storage room; it was built higher than the weight room, and she knew it was adjacent to the hallway. Bins with basketballs and volleyballs and footballs were knocked loose. The lacrosse sticks were scattered. Dried blood covered a bunch of things, but she didn''t pay it much attention. There were doors leading to the gym teacher¡¯s office, and she knew she could go through them to get back to the hallway, but there was a quicker way.
She switched the hatchet to her left hand. Then she punched the wall as hard as she could. It crumpled under her blow, and Jenny stumbled through the collapsing debris, and she stood in the hallway again, trying to harness her rage.
Like hell would she let the creature have Oliver after all she''d been through. And like hell would Jenny leave the creature alive to go after Susan.
But just as she was about to wrench the cafeteria doors off the handle, she forced herself to pause. She needed to ground herself, center her convictions. She buried her claws in her palm, struggling to puncture the exoskeleton, and shook with a tumultuous ugly rage.
But she knew it would be stupid to rush in there. She¡¯d done enough stupid things. She¡¯d been unhinged, irresponsible, and downright impulsive, and she¡¯d almost died too many times to count. No. If she wanted to do this, she had to go in with a cool head. She had to be focused.
Jenny straightened up as best she could, squaring her shoulders and shutting her eyes. A static image flickered in her head, and she had a vague outline of the hallway, the doors, and the holes in the wall. But she put everything out of thought and focused on her breath.
"Calm down," she whispered. "Calm the fuck down." Don''t go rushing into another fight. Not this fight. I can''t mess up again."
I have to destroy this thing. I have to figure out what to do. Before it kills everyone else, and this comes down to a one v. one anyway. She didn''t think anyone else in the school would be able to handle the Desecrated Angel. It had to be her.
But an ugly thought throbbed in the back of her mind. Maybe it was her own. Maybe it was Eve urging her to win. But if she let the Desecrated Angel kill everyone else, all she''d have to do was defeat it and win guilt-free. It''s not like she''d killed anyone, right?
No, she thought. No! The guilt would eat her alive no matter what. And ''everyone else'' included Susan and Oliver. She would not allow that. She couldn''t.
But what if it came to that anyways?
Fuck. I''ll figure it out. Right now, I just have to stop this thing. She inhaled as deeply as she could, her tentacles stretching to their maximum, filling her body with oxygen. Her head stopped spinning. Drown everything else out. Focus on this.
She pressed the tips of two tentacles against the cafeteria door, feeling the cold metal. Trying to feel the vibrations, trying to get some sense of what lay ahead.
But all she had was the pit of doom in her stomach. The relentless dread. Her subconscious screamed at her to run. Escape. It was a primal response. Whatever lay ahead was bad. It was wrong.
She couldn''t see through the doors; she''d need to get inside first. Slowly, careful not to make a sound, she pushed the door open the tiniest sliver. The mistiness of the veil was much thicker in the cafeteria. Tendrils of steam curved out like she''d taken the lid off a pot of boiling rice.
Sliding through the opening and holding her breath, she carefully shut the door behind her. If she needed to, she''d tear the doors apart to escape. If she could.
The first thing to hit her was the stench. Rotting foods, spoiled milk, vomit, and blood. Even through her exoskeleton mask, she smelled it. She tasted it through her tentacles, each one swishing, trying to make sense of these disturbing vibrations and the smells and the looming terror that spread through her like ice.
She couldn''t see more than a few feet ahead. The mist swirled thick and congested, and the lighting was gloomy but surprisingly colorful. Spread throughout the cafeteria, as if from multicolored lightbulbs, and made ambient by the mist, were colors. Greens and yellows. Oranges and blues and purples. But the mist swirled, and things faded in and out of her view. The lights grew bright then dulled before brightening again.
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Her tentacles were overwhelmed, and the static image in her mind was hazy, showing only vague silhouettes and the shapes of tables and pillars. Nothing that could be the Desecrated Angel.
On the far left were the large windows of the cafeteria. Most of them were shattered, but they let in the pasty glow of the veil, and as Jenny moved deeper into the lunchroom, she found what looked like spider webbing. Silky, glistening threads stretched between pillars, from the floors to the ceiling. And stuck to them, stuck all over, were wriggling bodies. Humans and angels and even some of her babies. Some of their eyes glowed blue, and they lay silent, blinking and struggling helplessly. There were tables caught in the webbing too, stuck upright and stained with bloody handprints and smears.
She remembered a lesson about spiders. How they sensed vibrations through their webs to know where prey had been trapped. She¡¯d have to avoid touching the webbing.
Stepping slowly, carefully, her eyes and ears and tentacles on full alert, Jenny crossed between tables. She was terrified one of the phones or trays of food or something would crunch under her feet and give her away. Liquid pooled all over the floor. Milk, water, blood, urine. She stepped over them, not trying to splash into a puddle. It wasn''t until she approached the people stuck to the webbing that she saw the sacs.
Enormous sacs, just like the cocoon from the chem lab, wriggling and suspended in the air. She counted almost a dozen near her, her heart sinking with each one. Cause each one came with the notification she''d dreaded this entire time.
Desecrated Angel (level 30)
They''re all dripping blood, glowing with specific colors, and she realized they were the source of the blooming, colorful lights. And they were lighting up the cafeteria just as the cocoon in the chem lab had.
Something crunched beneath her foot. A spilled bowl of breakfast cereal, and Jenny froze. Her tentacles went still. She strained every sense, trying to figure out if anything was on to her. But nothing stirred other than the creatures stuck to the webbing. Nothing made a sound.
She moved slower, creeping around the cocoons and the pillars, and it wasn''t until she neared the center of the cafeteria that she saw it. The world tearing gash, like an open eye in the middle of the cafeteria floor. It was about the length of a cafeteria table and about as wide as she was tall. She''d seen it from the inside before, when she''d surfaced for air and blood, and crawled out of it. But seeing it now, spread across the floor, a swirling, unblinking darkness, her stomach lurched like she''d climbed up very high and was looking at the street below. A part of her wanted to fall. A part of her still remembered that instruction, His will, beaten into her psyche. Fall. Fall. Fall.
An arm burst from the floor. The darkness rippled around it, and Jenny held her breath. The emaciated arm, just skin stretched over bone, reached forward, and the palm slapped against the dark surface. Then a bald head appeared. The eyes as empty as every angel she''d fought. It bared its teeth, saliva dribbling down its chin as it screeched.
Tarnished Angel (level 1)
Jenny remained motionless, hiding behind a pillar as the Tarnished Angel dragged the rest of its sickly form out. It plopped on the darkness, huffing, straining, and she was just about to rush forward and snip its head off when a soft shush came from above.
Too soft. Unsettlingly soft. It sounded almost motherly, nurturing and kind. A soft, gentle shushing that made both Jenny and the Tarnished Angel raise their heads.
Something shifted. Two giant somethings unfurled, and Jenny realized with racing horror that they were wings. Like butterfly wings, transparent and silky, and as they folded back, their tips nearly reaching the floor, wind battered the cafeteria. The mist swirled and cleared slightly. A chill washed over Jenny, and everything stuck to the webs shook.
On the ceiling, it looked like an enormous insect, but the notification in her head confirmed the lurch of fear.
Desecrated Angel (level 44)
A shiver that seemed to go all the into her bones seized Jenny. She couldn''t look away. The angel kept shushing, and it was almost song-like as it raised and flattened its wings again, stirring more air. With the wings flat against the ceiling, it almost vanished into the tile design, and it reminded Jenny of how chameleons or octopi camouflaged.
Every signal in her body screamed danger! The angel had four arms sticking out of its side. Two legs. Twin antennae jutted out from its head where blonde hair shimmered golden and bright. Full of life and energy. Its exoskeleton was no longer shiny and blue; it was strangely metallic, almost fibrous, and it made Jenny think of denim more than anything.
But it was much bigger now, taking up a huge portion of the ceiling with its limbs spread, directly overhead the gash in the floor. When it and its mate had attacked Jenny in the hallway by the library, it might''ve been a foot taller than her. Now it was several feet bigger; she thought each of its arms were longer than she was tall. Definitely thicker.
Most importantly, it hadn''t spotted her yet. Jenny rushed to the side, careful to avoid the webs, and hid behind another large pillar, ducking near a cafeteria table. Chocolate milk was spilled across the orange surface. A crushed tomato lay beneath it. On closer inspection, it wasn''t a tomato. It was a lung or something.
Her tentacles stretched lengthwise up the pillar, and she held her breath, peering carefully from the side, using the table as cover.
The Desecrated Angel dropped slowly. It held onto the ceiling with its upper arms while it reached for the new angel with its lower arms. When its feet hit the floor, its large claws striking the surface of the darkness, everything rippled. The Desecrated Angel stood with the top of its blonde head nearly touching the ceiling above. But now that it had moved, Jenny could see what it had been hiding.
She spotted Dr. Lee first. His blood-stained lab coat ripped open. He was struggling, but his limbs were stuck to the webbing that held him and others to the ceiling. Beside him was Leslie whose eyes were shut. And around them were the other faces from the library. Jenny strained, squinting through the gloom. But she didn''t see Oliver or Dule or Mackenzie. She saw the others from the chem lab, but that was it. Her heart raced. She pushed the terrible thoughts out of her head and refused to check how many humans were left alive.
A humming sound drew her attention. That giant creature was humming, the sound generating vibrations that sent waves of pleasure through Jenny. Her tentacles shuddered; an odd, strange pull wrapped itself around her heart and tugged as if to say, come closer. She clenched her teeth and stayed as motionless as possible, squeezing her tentacles flat against the pillar.
The Tarnished Angel made a raspy hissing sound, and the Desecrated Angel lifted it, a metallic clawed hand on each of the thin angel''s hips. Lifting it up as though it were a baby. As though the Desecrated Angel was a mother raising her newborn to kiss it on the forehead. But instead of a kiss, it put the creature''s head in its mouth and violently jerked to the side, snapping the head right off the neck.
Jenny shut her eyes, swearing silently as blood rained down on the table beside her. There was a crunch followed by chewing. Then she heard the unmistakable slurping noise, and her stomach lurched again, but she kept still. Even as the Desecrated Angel started chewing and swallowing, smacking its lips and eating noisily. She forced herself to look and saw the legs of the Tarnished Angel disappearing inside the larger angel''s mouth. It raised its face to the ceiling and swallowed again, a sizeable lump moving down its throat to its belly. Its middle wasn¡¯t exposed like before when it was a Wretched Angel; it wore the metallic denim-like covering like a full-body suit. Blue light surged from its navels to its wings, lighting up the mist and cafeteria before fading away.
She took the opportunity to dash to the next pillar, using Instant Acceleration out of fright. Once she''d hidden herself behind it, she checked around the pillar to see steam rising from the angel''s face. Two more arms shot out of the darkness below, and the Desecrated Angel lowered its gleaming blue eyes to its next meal.
Jenny searched every inch of the ceiling she could see through the shifting colors and mist. She squinted at all the webbing stretching around her, trying to find Oliver or anyone else. But too many creatures wriggled. Too many things were trapped in the webs, and the danger emanating from the darkness kept throwing her off. Her tentacles kept homing in on the biggest threat, the Desecrated Angel, and the majority of the static vision in her head was just that. Just the oversized four-armed angel as it chewed through the newcomers.
She dashed to the next pillar. Now she''d gone around the Desecrated Angel from where she''d started. There was another exit in the back of the cafeteria, and she could take that upstairs if she needed to escape quickly. But there was still no sign of Oliver. She saw more of her babies, curled up and suspended in a web. Asleep. One of the cocoons was a few feet away, letting off pulsing purple light. She could just make out the silhouette of the creature inside, and she wondered if she could burn it alive while it was still in there. Before it and the others could hatch. Maybe create a distraction.
That was when she realized the Desecrated Angel had stopped eating. The cafeteria was silent. Jenny held her breath, slowly turning around the corner.
It stood there, arms spread, blood dribbling down its front, covering its breasts and spilling over its belly to flow down its legs. Then it turned to face the purple cocoon, and Jenny went completely rigid. It stomped over slowly and crouched down on one knee, bringing its face to the cocoon. Its blonde hair bounced as its wings folded back, glowing brightly.
Jenny could reach out and touch the angel with her tentacles if she wanted to; she didn¡¯t even dare to blink.
It slit a hole in the cocoon using a fingernail bigger than Jenny''s face. A slime-covered purple angel screeched and raised its head from inside, and the Desecrated Angel pressed its oversized lips to the smaller angel''s face. Jenny''s stomach twisted as the retching and swallowing ensued, and she turned away, trying to decide which pillar to rush to next. How best to avoid the webs. She wondered if she could climb up to the ceiling with her tentacles, cut the others free, and get them out.
Or would it be better to fight the Desecrated Angel right now? While it was feeding? To take it by surprise and chop off its enormous head?
What was it even doing here? With all the cocoons and all the angels, undead people, and babies trapped in webbing. It was like a morbid nest. Was this why the Wretched Angels had ignored her and jumped into the hole? Were they called by the Desecrated Angel? Were they all going to hatch and become just like this creature?
The Desecrated Angel made that creepy, gentle purring sound, and once again, Jenny felt drawn to it. Like she wanted it to pick her up and press its lips to her mouth and regurgitate blood and flesh so she could swallow till she was full. It was calling to something deep and primal inside her; it was calling to her angelic needs. It was calling to her like the mother Jenny had always wanted.
Wait. Eve had said this Desecrated Angel was trying to win the Survival Challenge. It was trying to become more flesh, more complete. It was raising all these angels to become Desecrated. It was trying to amass an army.
So that when it won, when the Survival Challenge ended and the school returned to New York, it could surface with an army. And Jenny knew all too well the will that pulsed inside the creature¡¯s head. His will. His desires.
That wasn¡¯t even the worst thought in Jenny¡¯s head. She pictured her city. Pictured the millions of people that walked its street and clogged its buildings. An endless supply of flesh and blood; something that might finally quench the hunger.
51. Beyond Help (Susan)
Susan bounced in Mrs. Monique''s arms, feeling like a useless ragdoll as the librarian carried her, rushing down the third-floor hallway. Behind them, the walls erupted with dark green energy. Another bubble of light and sizzling heat blew up the lockers, battering them with debris.
Mrs. Monique ran, her face strained with Susan held to her chest. She''d dropped her spear somewhere in the chaos, and Susan felt awful weighing the librarian down. She should just leave Susan and escape; Susan was just dead weight.
They reached the central area where Susan and Jenny had found Harry Kim''s dad, where they''d fought the first Wretched Angel. Those bodies were nowhere to be seen. A series of cracks caught up with them, and green light exploded right over their heads.
The explosion threw the librarian forward, and Susan tumbled out of her arms. Both of them rolled across the bloodied floor before coming to a stop near the double doors of the English department.
Her vision blurry, pain radiating through her side and up her neck, Susan squeezed her cattle prod, blinking over and over to get the dust out. Down the hall, hunched forward and limping, came Miriam. She sauntered slowly, grinning maniacally with her eyes bulging. Maybe it was the pink helmet, but her head seemed too heavy for her body, lolling to the side, and the grin was too wide. It showed all her bloodied teeth, and it looked like the corners of her lips would rip.
"C''mon!" called Miriam. Her voice echoed all over the hall as debris rained down from the scorched ceiling. Crumpled lockers slid off the walls and clattered to the floor.
Susan glanced at Mrs. Monique, trying to figure out what to do, but the librarian was out cold.
Human (stage ii) (level 12)
But at least there was still a notification, thought Susan, wincing again as she grabbed the wall and pulled herself up. She focused what strength she had left. Harnessing it into what felt like a coiled spring inside the cattle prod. There was no use trying to reason with Miriam anymore; the girl had completely lost it.
Two of the angel babies emerged from the destroyed hallway they''d left behind. Screaming, they threw themselves at Miriam who turned to face them and screamed right back, a demonic ugly scream. She swatted them away like flies. Susan guessed Miram had put all her stat points into speed and strength because the crazed girl moved so quickly. And each smack sent a baby smashing into a wall.
Miriam stumbled closer once she¡¯d knocked the babies away. The entire front of her shirt was stained dark with blood, and she was drooling uncontrollably. To that point that fresh saliva ran down her chin, glistening over dried blood.
The sound was the worst part. Shlip. With every inhale, she sucked up the excess saliva. "Fresh," she said. "Fresh, fresh, fresh. I have to eat you while you''re fresh. That''s what the voice says. Fresh is best. I''ll get really strong. I can win!"
Susan braced herself, but Miram whirled around with rage when more babies emerged. The pink helmet flashed; Miriam''s arms swung. A fist broke one baby''s face, breaking its little nose. Susan blinked, and Miriam kicked one more baby into the ceiling before opening her mouth and releasing another dark green bubble.
It exploded like a supernova, blinding Susan for a moment, and she cried out hearing the babies scream in pain. Bits and pieces of the ceiling splattered the hallway. She pushed herself off the wall and stepped toward Miriam, readying her cattle prod as another baby attacked the girl''s legs.
I have to kill her. An ugly thought. She hated it. But the girl was unhinged, and she kept mentioning Jenny.
And Susan had already tried talking to her. When they found Miriam, she''d been eating the undead body of the music teacher, his rib cage torn open and a chunk of flesh slipping from her mouth.
Susan had called out that it was alright. They could help. She wasn''t alone. This could stop. But even as she said those words, even as she tried to do the right thing, she knew the girl was too far gone. And even though the notification said human, even though Miriam looked human, she scared Susan more than any of the angels so far.
Even the babies seemed completely unsettled. They hid behind Susan''s legs, holding onto her, all of them shaking. Like wild animals sensing a terrible presence. The horrid feeling in Susan''s gut twisted; something was definitely wrong, but she tried again anyway, hoping Miriam could be reasoned with.
"Miriam? It''s me, Susan. I don¡¯t know what happened but-¡±
Miriam wiped the blood from her lips then raced down the hallway, laughing. A green bubble burst from her lips, and the hallway erupted. The floors, the lockers, the doors; it was a storm of debris. Miriam rushed right through the mess and attacked Mrs. Monique before either of them could say anything else.
The librarian had fought, exchanging blows. Miriam''s arm bounced off Mrs. Monique''s reflective armor, and she''d even taken a slash to one arm. But it hadn''t been enough. Miriam laughed and kicked the librarian away.
"I have to stop her!" screamed Miriam, manic glee twisting her once pretty face. She was covered in so much blood. Her eyes glistened green. "I have to stop her. The voice... it''s the voice! I swore I''d stop her. Jenny''s going to ruin everything!"
"What the fuck?" said Mrs. Monique, clutching her side and backing away as Miriam stared at both of them, as if trying to decide who to eat first.
Susan shook her head. "What are you talking about? Why are you doing this?" She readied her cattle prod. If she could stun the girl, Mrs. Monique would have the upper hand.
"It''s Jenny," said Miriam quietly, hunching over and staring at Susan. She licked blood off her arm. "Jenny''s going to ruin it. I have to stop her and win or we¡¯re all fucked."
"Ruin what?" said Susan, but that was all Miriam had to say. The pink helmet flashed, and Miram was barreling down on Susan. The babies pounced and threw the unhinged girl to the floor.
Miriam screeched as they bit her thighs and her hand, kicking and punching and trying to throw them off. Another bubble formed inside her mouth, the light pulsing as it grew. Mrs. Monique had grabbed Susan and rushed off right as another explosion took out the entire section of the hallway. Roofing collapsing. The tiles on the floor were ripped apart, and it felt like they were rushing out of a warzone.
But the librarian was out cold now, and Susan couldn''t run. She could feel the potion Jenny had given her fading. Fatigue spread through her with every heartbeat, and she knew she''d only have one real shot. She couldn''t miss. One burst of lightning to the head, and Miriam would be out for the count.
As the smoke cleared, Miriam picked something off the floor. A baby. And she held it with both hands like she might throw it in the air and catch it, like it was an innocent game. The girl smiled even wider, then turned to catch Susan''s eyes. Her smile showed off all her bloodied teeth.
The baby struggled and wailed. It was scorched from the explosion, and, before Susan could even cry out, Miriam sank her teeth into the little creature''s neck.
An ugly crunch, followed by a slurp. The baby let out a squeak, its pudgy arms and legs wriggling desperately before going rigid. Holding the baby to her mouth, Miriam dropped to her knees, sniffling and sucking and moaning.
"So good!" said Miriam loudly after one long, final slurp. She dropped the limp baby and raised her hands in prayer. Blood gushed from between her teeth. Tears ran down her face. "Thank you..."
Lightning burst out of Susan''s cattle prod. It rippled through the air and hit Miriam in the chest, blasting the girl back. Electricity snapped up and down the blood. The pink helmet puffed up and shattered.
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Miriam spasmed uncontrollably, her limbs twisting as more and more bolts of lightning struck her. Susan stepped forward, overflowing with anger and disgust and horror. She''d seen enough horrible things. She''d seen enough people attacked and eaten by the angels, but to see someone she knew do that? To a baby, no less?
Susan held the cattle prod with both hands, feeling the drain as surge after surge of lightning shot out, flashing and filling the hallway with crackling blue light. But even as Miriam spasmed and her shirt caught fire, she laughed.
Miriam was laughing and screaming, and several green bubbles spread from her lips, rising. Susan''s lightning curved toward them as if drawn to the bubbles. The instant they touched, there was a flash of light and another explosion.
The walls and floor around Miriam fell away, and she plummeted to the second floor. Susan was flung backward, and she fully expected to slam into a wall or something, but instead, it was Mrs. Monique who caught her, softening the impact. Her cattle prod had been thrown from her hand. She coughed loudly, leaning on Mrs. Monique for support and blinking away tears as smoke and dust stung her eyes.
What was left of the lockers peeled off the walls to crash loudly below, and a portion of the roof had come down, blocking the central stairwell. The thick mist of the veil swirled overhead and seeped into the building. It was like looking up at a stormy sky, except there was no rain or wind, only an endless empty feeling.
Light flashed, and Susan flinched. But it was only Mrs. Monique summoning her spear. The librarian had blood running down the side of her face from a nasty wound, and she opened her mouth to say something, but a bloodcurdling scream rang out from the second floor.
"Please!" screamed Miriam. "I need to find her! Where is she?"
Susan looked frantically through the rubble trying to find her cattle prod. Her head ached and pounded, but fear throbbed through her limbs. Jenny had enough to deal with; if the crazy bitch attacked Jenny while she had to deal with the undead... It was Mrs. Monique who found the cattle prod and placed it firmly back into Susan''s hand.
"The babies..." whispered Susan. She forced herself to take deep breaths. If she passed out, it would be over.
"I don''t see any of them," said Mrs. Monique. She sounded just as exhausted as Susan felt. The librarian stumbled, touching her forehead, her fingers coming away with blood. "Why does that girl keep screaming about Jenny?"
"I... I don''t know."
Mrs. Monique shook her head. "This is all sorts of fucked." She motioned for the stairwell in the back. "Let''s go down that way and get back to the library or something. We need backup."
Susan couldn''t argue with that. The two of them didn''t stand a chance, and she wondered about the kids who''d been with Oliver. They were strong. Maybe together, they could stop Miriam and help Jenny.
She let Mrs. Monique lead the way, glancing repeatedly over her shoulder. But all they heard was Miriam screaming and crying and the impacts of a fight that must be the remaining babies struggling. She shuddered, trying to suppress the image of Miriam sucking the baby¡¯s blood.
As they crossed down the hall, she noticed the puddle of dried blood from when the first Wretched Angel had chewed through her leg. She saw the cracks in the walls and the floor from Jenny''s battle with it. And when they walked past the boy''s bathroom, her blood froze; she heard banging. Multiple people banging on the door, moaning and crying, trying to get out, and she almost went to help. To push it open. Before she realized they must be the undead. Undead who couldn''t figure out how to pull the door open and kept trying to push through. The librarian glanced at her, and Susan shook her head.
When they got to the stairwell door, Mrs. Monique grabbed Susan''s shoulder. Her one eye frantic and bloodshot. More blood ran down her dark face. "Susan. How do I use my ability?"
"What?" asked Susan, taken aback by the sudden ferocity.
The librarian was breathing hard. She licked her lips and glanced toward the rubble again. "When I killed those angels Jenny wanted me to, I leveled up and got an ability. I don''t understand, but it says Barrier."
Susan blinked, finally understanding what the librarian meant. It was just like how she had Valescent Light. But she wasn''t sure how to explain it. It had felt so natural to her. As easy as breathing or extending her arm and making a fist.
Then she remembered that not everyone had even noticed the system right away. Maybe it''s more difficult for some people.
"You just...." she hesitated. "You kind of just focus on it. You imagine what it would feel like, and it''s like exhaling. You bring it into existence."
Mrs. Monique nodded, clenching her teeth as if thinking hard. "I''m trying," she said. "Fuck. I''m trying." She opened the door, and they spilled into the side stairwell and headed down for the library.
They moved quickly. Going downstairs was easier than climbing, but Susan held the railing tightly and wished the babies were with them and not fighting. She didn¡¯t want any more of them to get hurt or worse. Mrs. Monique stopped abruptly again, and Susan glanced around her to see why.
Ashes covered the entire stairwell. Scorch marks stained the walls, and part of the stairwell was collapsed, as if by some terrible impact. Skeletons of various sizes lay on the floor, all the bones blackened, and many of them piles of ash. The tiny ones gave Susan pause, and she shuddered. But past them, wriggling and crying and struggling down the next set of steps, were about a dozen bodies with glowing blue eyes. Humans and angels, and someone was rushing through them.
A girl, slashing and screaming, cutting the creatures down with a knife. It was the girl from downstairs. The deaf one who''d told Susan about Jenny, and behind her came the tall boy in boxing gloves, Dul¨¦, carrying Jenny''s brother on his back. Oliver''s face was red and drenched in sweat.
"Why aren''t you at the library?" Mrs. Monique shrieked, She stepped forward and plunged a spear into one of the undead. Before long, all of them were motionless, the blue light faded from their eyes, and blood trickled down the steps. She helped Susan climb down till everyone stood near the second-floor doorway. Through it, they heard faint screaming, and the walls shook from another explosion.
Mrs. Monique stepped toward the other kids and touched Oliver''s forehead. "The boy''s burning up." She glanced back at Susan, worry and concern twisting her face.
But Susan didn''t know what to do. Would Valescent Light work on a fever? She could maybe regrow his legs if she had a chance to rest, but...
She stepped forward, ignoring every single ache in her body and trying not to trip on an arm. Another explosion rocked the floors, and the deaf girl signed something at Dul¨¦ who asked, "What the hell is that?"
Susan didn''t pay attention as Mrs. Monique explained the Miriam situation. She pressed her glowing fingers to Oliver''s flushed face, her hand shaking uncontrollably from the effort. She shut her eyes, concentrating, willing every ounce of her spirit to flow from her chest and through her arm to gather at her fingers. There wasn¡¯t much left, but maybe it could help. Maybe it would be just enough.
Someone gasped, and she relaxed slightly. It must be working. But the drain proved too much, and after a few seconds, her head tilted back. She would''ve collapsed if someone hadn''t wrapped an arm around her waist and caught her. When she opened her eyes, she noticed Oliver''s face seemed less troubled. He wasn''t that sickly color anymore and he was breathing easier.
"I''ll restore your legs as soon as I can," she promised quietly.
Dul¨¦ shot her a look like you can do that? But then he noticed the deaf girl signing and nodded at Susan. "Mackenzie says thank you. And so do I."
Susan returned the nod weakly, leaning against Mrs. Monique.
But Mackenzie shook her head. She was trying and failing to speak, distorted syllables coming from her mouth. She let out a frustrated sigh, and Dul¨¦ continued for her. "The library collapsed. Something..." he shook his head. "Something¡¯s down there, and....¡± He stopped again and took a breath. ¡°And we have friends on this floor." He motioned toward the second floor with his chin. "Martin, Janice, and Anna. They were hiding somewhere in the chemistry hall, and-"
Mrs. Monique cut him off. She exchanged a glance with Susan who shook her head sadly. Then the librarian explained: if they were in the chem wing with Miriam, they were dead. She left out the part of them being most likely eaten.
Dul¨¦ didn''t say anything. He stared at the bodies on the floor. Susan recognized the look on his face. He was studying each one, trying to find someone he knew. Students and teachers he''d shared classes with or seen around school, how normal everything had been only a few hours ago. He was trying to bury the news he¡¯d just gotten. Mackenzie looked furious. The knife shook in her hand, and she kicked one of the dead angels.
"What happened to the library?" asked Susan. She got the sense that they were beyond terrified.
Dul¨¦ shook his head. Mackenzie touched his shoulder, then Oliver''s face. And then finally, Dul¨¦ spoke. "It''s gone. Something came from underneath and..."
Susan''s eyes went wide. "From underneath?"
Mrs. Monique exhaled loudly. But before anyone could say another word, another explosion rocked the building. Dust rained down from above, and chunks of stairwell clattered all around them. Then they heard Miriam''s voice. Loud and shrill, coming right from the second-floor hallway.
"I can smell you out there!"
"Run," hissed Mrs. Monique. She was the first to react, readying her spear and taking a defensive stance. "We can''t fight her in here. You guys go. I''ll hold her back."
"No," said Dul¨¦, adjusting Oliver''s weight on his back. "Whatever''s down there... We have to go up." He tried to push by Mrs. Monique, his feet sliding on blood. But before he could make any headway, another explosion burst through the wall above. The stairwell cracked, and a large chunk struck the floor beside Susan and broke to bits.
Mackenzie shouted something incoherent and held up her knife. Susan glanced at the door; they heard laughter, growing louder and louder. She didn''t know how the deaf girl could sense what was coming, but there was nowhere to run.
All of a sudden, there was quiet. Heavy and thick. They all held their breaths, except Oliver who was still unconscious. Dul¨¦ took a few steps back, carefully descending the stairwell with Mackenzie standing in front of him, facing the doorway to the second floor.
Mrs. Monique motioned for Susan to leave, but she couldn''t even bring herself to move. The cattle prod shook in her hands.
The door creaked open. The pink helmet, the plastic melted and peeled and curled upward, appeared first. Miriam''s eyes were next, gleaming a bright green, Bloodied fingers emerged to wave. "Found you.¡±
52. A Fire in the Cafeteria
The thick mist of the veil was suffocating, seemingly threatening Jenny from every angle, obscuring her view. All her senses were on high alert, but the static image in her head was useless. Her tentacles homed in on the Desecrated Angel''s presence, and the gut-twisting feeling emanating from darkness in the center of the cafeteria only confused her more. The enormous angel held the purple cocoon with two arms, retching for the angel inside to drink through a revolting kiss.
Desecrated Angel (level 44)
It was almost twenty levels higher than her. Stronger, with abilities she didn''t know of yet, and gigantic. How had it managed to grow so big? It hadn''t been that much bigger than her when it came out of the cocoon.
The Desecrated Angel focused on size in a similar manner to your tentacle¡¯s growth. Converting blood and flesh into physical growth.
Sickened, Jenny slid away from the cocoon as the feeding continued. Purple light radiated through the mist. She was careful to step over a puddle, careful to avoid the webbing that glistened inches away from her face, and careful not to make a sound when the Desecrated Angel shushed the angel in the cocoon back to sleep.
A shudder traveled down her spine, and she ducked under a table to watch. The giant angel''s body convulsed. It let out a hiss. Then something gooey shot out of its navel and slapped around the cocoon. That was how it produced its webbing, and Jenny couldn''t help but find it eerily similar to her exoskeleton spurting out of her belly button.
Trying to keep from throwing up, Jenny shut her eyes and strained her tentacles. The humans on the ceiling were the only other living humans in the cafeteria. One of them was fading fast, and she knew there was no time to waste if she wanted to help them. The Desecrated Angel seemed to be saving the humans for itself while feeding newly born Tarnished Angels to the angels in the cocoons.
What she needed was a distraction. Something to lure the Desecrated Angel away so she could get closer to the ceiling. It didn''t take long for it to feed a cocoon, and when the large creature turned to face the darkness again, more Tarnished Angels hissed and emerged.
Brown napkins covered this side of the cafeteria floor. The dispenser had been smashed, and the napkins spread across an area, soaking up spilled milk and blood. Jenny crawled over them, until she emerged from the opposite end of the table, and nearly stepped into a web, headfirst. But she caught herself and straightened up, coming face to face with one of her babies that had fallen through the physics lab.
It was limp. Suspended, stuck to the webbing, and caked with dust. Its eyes were wide open and lifeless. Its belly was torn open, the insides hollowed out like a hole in a tree.
There were no notifications; none of them stirred. A pang of sadness filled her as she counted almost a dozen babies. Some of their eyes were wide and unseeing, some shut tight. Mouths open. Pudgy arms and legs stuck to the web stretching between two pillars. All of them with their insides ripped out; the Desecrated Angel had given birth to them to eat them. It hadn''t been like the mother angel in the stairwell that had clawed out its eyes to fight Jenny.
Following the web, Jenny stopped when she reached a green cocoon attached to the metal kiosk where students inserted their student IDs and filled their balances with cash. Up ahead, attached to the other end of the webbing and stuck to a pillar, was another cocoon. This one emanated a white glow that she couldn''t tell apart from the mist without being close.
She heard the Desecrated Angel retch on the other side of the cafeteria. Her heart pounding, she glanced again at the dead disemboweled babies and remembered the ones she''d burnt to death before they could hatch. She walked slowly, her face right next to the webbing so that when she exhaled, droplets of condensation stuck to the silvery sticky stuff. She wondered if it was flammable; she wondered if the cocoons were flammable.
Only one way to find out.
Keeping low to the floor and trying not to slip on a napkin, Jenny crouched behind the closer cocoon. Its green light shone brightly as she drew nearer; she could see the gestating Desecrated Angel within, curled up in a fetal position. Waiting to be fed.
She passed a mess of wriggling undead angels and humans, their eyes glowing blue, their limbs stuck to another web. They were quiet unlike the moaning and crying hoard she¡¯d fought above.
When she got to the green cocoon, she hid behind its bulk as the giant angel lumbered around the cafeteria. The kiosk for refilling lunch cards was busted open so that cash covered the floor beneath the cocoon. It was odd staring at all that money, odd thinking how she''d always wanted and needed more, but here, in this hell, money held no value at all.
She readjusted her hatchet in case the fire wasn''t enough, and the angel inside burst free to attack. Praying this would work, praying it would draw the giant angel''s attention and cause a big enough distraction, she inhaled deeply through her nose. Then, once her lungs were fully expanded and she''d slid a few feet away from the cocoon, she let it out. Ignite!
She was careful this time, controlling the fire. Softly and gently, the burning sensation in the back of her throat grew hotter and hotter. Then the flames blossomed, curling and blooming before engulfing the green cocoon.
It began to glow vibrantly, reminding Jenny of burning copper over a Bunsen burner in chem lab, and she had to shield her eyes with a tentacle as the light flashed brightly. She stopped using her skill and watched as fire covered it completely. Flames licked up and spread across the webbing, lighting up the space between the kiosk and the pillar and catching the dead babies. Jenny didn''t stay to watch. She dropped on all fours and moved away. Behind her, white light flashed just as vibrantly as the green cocoon had, and she knew it was on fire too.
A scream tore through the cafeteria. The floor jolted from heavy steps; her spectacle was working. She dashed away with Instant Acceleration, turning to hide behind a pillar by the windows as flickering orange and red and yellow flames turned green and white, a show of light illuminating the back half of the cafeteria. The giant angel stood in the midst of it all with its four arms spread helplessly.
More webs caught flame. Screams echoed all around; the undead were on fire now too. Jenny held her breath as the angel moved through the burning webbing, hunched over and reaching for the white one. The haze cleared from the flames, and Jenny could see the cocoon''s covering running like molten glass. The Desecrated Angel clawed it open, and the angel inside slumped out, limp as the dead babies. Its body was covered in molten white covering, still gleaming from the heat, oozing like thick liquid.
You¡¯ve defeated Desecrated Angel (Level 30)
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Experience has been awarded
+500 Energy
The giant angel howled, and Jenny covered her ears, wincing. It beat its wings furiously, air rushing through the cafeteria, causing the fire to spread. The napkins burst into flames, lighting up along the floor, and fire jumped to other webs. The angel roared, swiping at the burning webs and shooting more webbing like fishing nets. These muffled the flames for a moment, and Jenny imagined that they were wet when the angel produced them, but the new webbing caught fire within seconds, and the blaze continued burning. She couldn¡¯t help but grin; fuck you, she thought.
Her other guess had been correct too. The Desecrated Angels were vulnerable while cocooned. Their insides must not be fully developed, and whatever change they were going through, whatever the purpose was, all Jenny had to do was set them on fire before they hatched.
As the giant angel screeched and tore at the burning webbing and bodies and cocoons, Jenny rushed for the center. Without thinking, she ran over the darkness and only realized when a hand burst from it and she nearly tripped.
Tarnished Angel (level 1)
Before the new Tarnished Angel could fully emerge, Jenny shoved a tentacle into its mouth. The tentacle shot out the back of the creature''s head. Its body slid, as though suddenly it was no longer allowed to cross through the darkness, and its upper body slumped forward, blood and insides gushing. Whatever hadn''t made it across, was lost.
You¡¯ve defeated Tarnished Angel (Level 1)
Experience has been awarded
+20 Energy
Jenny flicked her tentacles even as they sucked up the blood. But there was no time to feast; the Desecrated Angel would only be distracted for so long. She leaped onto a table and then launched herself at the top of a pillar, her tentacles slapping around it. From the other side of the cafeteria, smoke swirled through the mist, cloaking her even more. But she could still see the silhouette of the giant angel amidst the flames, screaming with rage.
Using her claws, she climbed up the pillar and then slammed her tentacles into the ceiling so she could hang from it. Dr. Lee stared at her with wide, bloodshot eyes. His glasses were gone, and his arms and legs were spread, stuck to the webbing like a helpless bug. And the distinctly sharp odor of urine emanated from him.
Beside him was Leslie, lying face up with her cheek against the ceiling. Her breathing was shallow, and blood dripped from her back. Blood. Warm and fresh and delicious, making Jenny''s tentacles twitch. Her core tightened. She could suck them both dry; they''d never even know. Surely, she looked just as monstrous to them as the Desecrated Angel had? And why should it be the only one to feed?
Leslie''s blood smelled so good... Jenny shuddered, remembering her time as the angel. Remembering how Leslie had spoken to her. Had tried to protect her from Dr. Lee. And how the science teacher had stabbed Leslie. The girl was about to bleed out judging by her faint heartbeat. There were several other bodies wriggling about, as well as a few faces from the library that remained motionless, eyes wide and unseeing.
She grabbed Leslie first, and, after a quick glance to make sure the Desecrated Angel was still distracted trying to stomp out the fire, Jenny dropped. Smoke and mist swirled around her. She cradled Leslie against her red exoskeleton and took the impact of the fall with her tentacles. She lowered her feet gently so that Leslie wouldn''t feel a thing; she didn''t want any more blood spurting out; she didn''t want to lose her mind. Jenny didn''t even dare breathe.
She carried Leslie over to the janitor''s closet. The door was bolted shut, but a locked metal door wasn''t going to stop Jenny. She pried it open with her tentacles and carried the unconscious Leslie inside. It smelled of ammonia and cleaning fluids, and it wasn''t a big space. There were buckets and mops, a sink, and an extra janitor''s uniform.
With Leslie resting on the floor, leaning against a shelf of rat poison, Jenny focused. Golden light took shape in her hand, and then she held a Major Potion of Recovery to Leslie''s lips. The dark red liquid matched Jenny¡¯s exoskeleton, and Leslie drank it greedily.
Perhaps it would be best to end her suffering. She is weak and you can harvest her Energy and experience and secure your victory.
You want me to kill her? thought Jenny, already struggling with her bloodlust. There would be no witnesses. And Leslie would die anyway if Jenny failed to stop the angel. Why not take her strength and use it?
But no. She bit her lip and stopped that train of thought. It was only Eve trying to end the Survival Challenge. It wasn¡¯t Jenny. She repeated that over and over. It¡¯s not me. I¡¯m not going to kill someone who¡¯s innocent. Because where would it stop?
Steam rose from Leslie¡¯s torso, and she slumped back, eyes fluttering. As soon as she saw Jenny, she opened her mouth to scream. But Jenny was prepared for that. She wrapped a tentacle around Leslie''s face and held her till she stopped squirming. Jenny could taste the wound healing, and as much as she wanted to kneel and tear through Leslie''s neck and suck and suck and suck, she forced the urge down and kept her tentacles in check.
"It''s me," she whispered. "It''s me, Jenny. It''s okay." Yeah, she thought. Totally okay. Every muscle in my body isn''t straining from the effort of not eating you.
Leslie stared for a moment, eyes wide and brimming with tears. Her usually flawless skin was caked in blood and dirt, and any facade of the perfect girl was gone. She started sobbing and shaking, and Jenny slowly unfastened her tentacle.
"It kept licking me," whispered Leslie. Her eyes went out of focus. And she touched the bloodied hole in her shirt where the wound used to be. "It was licking me right here." Then she turned over and threw up, and Jenny looked away, feeling like she might be sick herself.
"You''ll be safe here," said Jenny, turning. ¡°Just be quiet.¡± She rushed back to where the others were. The flames were still raging, but the Desecrated Angel was stomping them out. Jenny was running out of time.
You¡¯ve defeated Desecrated Angel (Level 30)
Experience has been awarded
+500 Energy
Leveled up!
Jenny Huang, Level 25 -> Level 26
+3 Stat Points
The angel in the other cocoon must be dead now too. She climbed back to the ceiling, scanning the rest of them. Other than Dr. Lee and two people from the library and the boy who''d been with Oliver and the others, everyone else was dead. Holes in their chest, their faces sunken as though they¡¯d been hollowed out. A part of her was relieved that Oliver wasn''t among them. But that only left her with the worry of where was Oliver?
Eve confirmed that he was alive. But it couldn''t seem to locate him. Or Susan. Or any of the others. What had happened to them? But she couldn''t stress about them. Not till she''d cleared the immediate danger.
She carried the students to the janitor¡¯s closet two at a time. She didn''t say anything to them, and they were too terrified to resist. She let Leslie explain that they had to be quiet and hide.
In the back of Jenny''s mind, they were just an emergency food supply. At best, she was preventing the Desecrated Angel from getting any stronger off them.
She¡¯d saved Dr. Lee for last. She wasn''t sure if she even wanted to save him. What if he went after the others? But it didn''t matter. The flames were dead, the flickering light gone, and the smoke was dissipating. As though the veil''s mist was clearing it away.
The cafeteria was quiet and unnerving, and the mist thickened, threatening Jenny once again. Another hand burst out of the darkness, and a new Tarnished Angel clambered out, hissing. Jenny held her breath as the Desecrated Angel approached.
A series of tremors went through the floor. Jenny slid away, darting behind the pillar near the ceiling, and trying to keep out of sight.
The angel held the half-melted cocoons in its arms. It set them down, and one of them crushed the Tarnished Angel below. Its blue eyes seem to shine more brightly than before. Rage, like waves of heat, emanated from the Desecrated Angel, an invisible force that squeezed Jenny¡¯s chest and made her heart pound. It was pissed, and it spread its wings and raised its head, a cry of rage gurgling in its throat.
But stopped mid-fury. It noticed the ceiling and the missing people. It looked right at Dr. Lee and blinked, the blue light of its eyes vanishing for a moment before reappearing brighter and sharper than before.
Jenny held her breath, clinging to the pillar with her claws, trying to find an opening. Should she attack? Should she grab Dr. Lee? The angel stretched till its nose was pressed to Dr. Lee, and it sniffed. Then it sniffed again, deeply.
It knows. It knows I''m here.
The creature plucked Dr. Lee from the webbing and brought his wailing face to its mouth.
53. Face Off
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It was feeding time.
54. Fight Fear with Fire
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55. Collapsing Stairs (Susan)
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56. Revenge
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57. Lasagna
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58. Broken
Wretched Human (Level 24)
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59. To spread your hideous wings
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60. Facing the Darkness (Susan)
One moment, Susan saw Jenny struggling on the strange cafeteria floor with Miriam. The next, hideous wings unfurled with a furious snap. Wind slammed Susan back with enough force to knock her against the partially melted cafeteria doorway. Jenny and Miriam were gone. All that was left of them was a new hole in the ceiling.
The cafeteria was a disaster. So much of the walls were burnt through. Pillars collapsed. Tables upended. And several places, like the cluster of tables by the large windows where Susan had breakfast just this morning waiting for classes to begin, were covered in little hills of rubble.
The worst was the floor. It looked like a black swimming pool in the shape of an oval or maybe an eye. When she¡¯d run over it, her feet didn¡¯t sink, so she was sure it wasn¡¯t actually liquid. But she¡¯d gotten the sensation of wading into water: a tightness in her chest, the sudden feeling that she was heavier, and the threat of plummeting to some dark bottom and running out of air. All her instincts screamed that it was evil.
Susan knew it was evil with every fiber of her being, and the more she looked at it, the more it looked like an ugly gash. A festering wound. The darkness sloshed inwards and wriggled and rippled... And as she stood in the entryway, trying to make sense of it, a bony hand burst out and splashed onto the surface. She couldn¡¯t help but yelp as a head followed.
Tarnished Angel (level 1)
This one was red-haired, its pasty face as skeletal as all the others, and those empty eyes glistened before locking onto Susan. The angel screamed as it pulled itself out.
This was where they all came from, thought Susan, backing away. Then she saw something even worse. Something enormous with a head of blonde hair and a torso that was mostly bones, meat stuck to an exposed ribcage. It was a gigantic angel crawling out of a pile of rubble. Sharp blue eyes glistened with menace, and when it hissed, steam rose from its lips.
Desecrated Angel (level 44)
The name burned through Susan''s mind, and she almost cried out. Her legs trembled, and she held onto the doorframe; she couldn''t look away from its gaze as it crawled toward the Tarnished Angel. Several other arms burst out of the darkness, and more angels pulled themselves into the cafeteria.
Susan stepped back, horrified. How many more would surface? How many more would they have to fight?
And that Desecrated Angel... How was it still alive? It looked like a dinosaur carcass. Like the ones she''d seen in documentaries, of a stegosaur after the raptors had their fill. The creature was wheezing, eyes shining blue and bright, and when it reached the much smaller angel, it clacked its teeth.
With large, dark blue fingers, it grasped the first Tarnished Angel. The thinner creature hissed and screeched, and slowly, the Desecrated Angel lifted it off the floor.
Despite its size and the shiver of terror running down Susan¡¯s spine, the angel was so badly injured that it seemed weak. Fragile almost. Like it was on the verge of death. Its movements were slow, its arm shook as the Tarnished Angel struggled. For a moment, it looked like the smaller angel would slip out. But then the Desecrated Angel''s mouth opened wide, and Susan turned away.
She didn''t want to see. She couldn¡¯t bear to see any more of that. She dashed back up the hallway, but she still heard the sickening crunch resounding behind her.
The Desecrated Angel roared in triumph, and Susan clapped her hands over her ears. Jenny fought that thing? And Miriam... Miriam ate it?
Then she remembered what Jenny was doing before Miriam attacked. How Jenny''s tentacle things were ripping open the angel''s stomach; the pleased look on Jenny''s face... No. I can''t think about that right now. She''s doing what she needs to win.
What can I do to help right now?
I have to stop that thing. Her heart thudded with hope. She glanced back through the holes in the wall and saw Tarnished Angels hissing and scrambling toward her. The Desecrated Angel lay on its back, still feeding off the angel it picked up.
If she killed it, Jenny would level up, wouldn''t she? And Susan would level up too. They''d level up a lot considering how high leveled that thing was. She''d have more Energy and more stat points, and she''d be strong enough to help Jenny with her idea to save them all. They could all get out of here.
I need a weapon. She didn''t have enough Energy, and her body was on the verge of shutting down, but she felt a surge of willpower, like a second wind. I can do this. I can do this.
Having a goal, a purpose, something that she could do, to help Jenny, to help everyone... it forced her forward. I can do this. Cause if I can¡¯t... we¡¯re all fucked.
With every breath burning, Susan rushed back to the others, trying to dodge chunks of the wall and slipping on blood. Mrs. Monique and Dule stood in front of the unconscious Oliver and Mackenzie who were resting against the ruined door of the collapsed stairwell. Sitting beside them was Leslie, drenched in blood, her clothes torn. She stared blankly up the hallway, staring right past Susan.
Dule had questions, but Susan just pointed toward the cafeteria, shouting that angels were coming.
¡°Fuck,¡± he swore, and his boxing gloves materialized around his hands.
Susan nearly tripped, coming to a stop beside Leslie as a screech echoed up and down the hall. Mrs. Monique launched her spear at the first Tarnished Angel to emerge. The tip went through its chest, and the angel flicked back, twisting in a spray of blood as the librarian called her spear back with a flash of light.
"Leslie," whispered Susan, squeezing the other girl''s shoulder. "Do you have any Energy?"
Leslie''s face was gaunt. Looking almost like a fish with her mouth open, she stared at the angels as Dule and Mrs. Monique fought them off. Her lips moved, but she didn''t utter a sound.
When Susan had found her in the janitor''s closet, she''d been lying on the floor in a pool of blood pretending to be dead. The other students around her had been very much dead, torn apart by Miriam with limbs, intestines, and bones strewn around in a sloppy mess. Leslie was barely responsive as Dule carried her back to the hallway. All she kept saying was "Dr. Lee did this," but he was nowhere to be seen.
Susan turned around, breathing hard out of frustration. She grabbed Dule''s arm as he stepped back, and he flinched, his boxing glove glowing.
"There''s something worse in there," she said quickly. "It''s almost dead. And if we kill it, we can... we can... I just need something to kill it with.¡± She¡¯d thought about bashing in its head with rubble or something, but she knew it wouldn¡¯t be enough. She needed something definitive.
Blood and sweat trailed down the side of Dule''s dust-covered face. His lips were busted, and his eyes were glazed with exhaustion. He shrugged. "I''m sorry. I''m barely getting anything from these things, and I used up too much to heal Mackenzie." He wiped his brow nodding toward Oliver and Mackenzie. "I''m not gonna leave their side."
Something hissed, and he turned as an angel rushed them on all fours, hissing, long black hair trailing. His glove made contact with its chin. There was a flash of light, and the angel blew apart as though it had been struck by a cannonball. Bits of flesh and bone splattered everything.
¡°Sorry,¡± he whispered gruffly. ¡°Put too much into that.¡± He shouted and stepped away as another angel slipped by Mrs. Monique.
Mackenzie! Susan whipped around and pushed Leslie out of the way. The girl collapsed and curled into a ball shaking and mumbling something incoherent, and Susan felt a pang of guilt, but there was no time for guilt.
"Where''s the dagger?" she shouted, hoping Dule would answer her. "Where''s Mackenzie''s dagger?"
"I don''t know!" said Dule over his shoulder. More and more angels erupted through the collapsing cafeteria wall, screaming and hissing. Mrs. Monque thrust her spear into one''s back then kicked another.
Susan patted Mackenzie''s body down, whispering apologies as the deaf girl''s ruined armor crumbled away. Then Susan spotted the handle sticking out from under her arm.
Straining, Susan lifted Mackenzie so she could pull the dagger out. Trying to be as gentle as she could, she lowered Mackenzie back onto the floor, then collapsed, arms and legs burning from the effort. She was breathing hard, and she almost wanted to laugh. What chance did she have against that angel? It was eating the other angels. It was healing. And once it recovered...
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But she had the dagger. It almost felt wrong to touch the dagger. I didn''t make this. This came from Mackenzie''s thoughts. There was a strange magnetic field to it like it was gently repelling Susan''s hand. She almost felt like she was touching Mackenzie''s bare skin without permission. A strange tingling heat.
Like she was doing something wrong. But her fingers curled around it. She could wield it. And she would just have to apologize to Mackenzie when this was all over.
No stats appeared for the dagger. She didn''t have access to whatever skills Mackenzie had imbued it with, but it would do the job. She glanced at Oliver. Once, I kill that thing, maybe I can regenerate your legs and heal Mackenzie.
But I''m exhausted. Her head throbbed with fear. She was terrified of what might be happening to Jenny now that Miriam had transformed into something so grotesque and monstrous.
But Jenny''s just as monstrous. I have to have faith. She took a deep breath. We just have to survive. Just like a video game. She was the support, and this is what she needed to do right now. This was the best way she could support her best friend and keep herself alive. Otherwise... otherwise she was just useless dead weight.
And she would not be dead weight.
As Mrs. Monique and Dule fought to protect their little haven by the stairwell, she rushed up to them. ¡°I¡¯m gonna kill the thing in there. Help me!¡±
¡°What?¡± shouted Dule, but Susan was already moving past them, focused on her one singular purpose. A Tarnished Angel leaped in her direction. The spear flashed, striking the creature in the side and slamming it out of her way. She rushed through a hole in the wall, into the cafeteria, trusting them to have her back.
More angels crawled from the darkness. And the Desecrated Angel picked up another, dragging it across the floor to its lips where its enormous teeth snapped through the smaller angel''s torso.
It was glowing. Shimmering blue light mixed with golden flashes as the angel¡¯s flesh regenerated over its bones. Her terrible feeling was right; the angel was healing.
Mrs. Monique hurried in behind her. "Susan, what the absolute fuck do you think you''re-" But then she caught sight of the Desecrated Angel, and her voice caught in her throat.
"I have to kill it," said Susan. Tears slid down her cheeks. Her legs were trembling so much that she couldn''t decide if it was fatigue or fear. But it didn''t matter. This had to be done. If that thing recovered completely, they were screwed.
Mrs. Monique didn''t say anything more. She ran in front of Susan, taking out the Tarnished Angels as they sprang forward, hissing and salivating. Susan slashed one''s arm as it reached for her. Its fingers scratched her thighs; she clenched her teeth to keep from screaming and drove the dagger through its thin chest.
With a cry, Mrs. Monique launched her spear at the Desecrated Angel. The tip bounced off the dark covering of its cheek, and its blue eyes turned toward them. Legs stuck out of its mouth as the giant creature lay on its back. Its navel was taking shape, glistening with golden light as dark, metallic covering spread across its skin. They weren¡¯t gonna be able to break through that.
"Shit..." said the librarian, summoning her spear back. "We have to get closer."
There was still exposed flesh left. On the other side of its face. On its chest. The muscles were still forming, and Susan recognized the healing pattern from when she''d used Valescent Light on her leg. There was still a chance.
The angel noticed her right as she stepped onto the darkness. Susan stood near its enormous head feeling like she was staring down a school bus. Light crackled like electricity, and that blue covering spread slowly over its nose. The exposed muscle of its cheek moved disgustingly as it chewed and swallowed.
Susan recognized the blonde hair. It was the angel that nearly killed them. It and its mate. She wondered if Jenny had killed the dark-covered one, and she couldn''t help but smile coldly. This is for Jenny.
It slurped the rest of the Tarnished Angel down, feet scratching the Desecrated Angel¡¯s lips before vanishing, and swallowed. Blood and a mess of meat and bones oozed down a hole in its stomach, and Susan wanted to retch. But she knew what she had to do. How to kill it.
She raised her arms, spreading them wide and hiding the dagger in the sleeve of her ruined armor. Take me, she thought. I''m a much better meal than these skinny monsters. Eat me and you''ll recover completely.
"Susan! Susan, what are you doing?" Mrs. Monique screamed behind her.
But it was too late. The angel lunged, twisting its body to grab her by the waist. Just as she planned. Her armor cracked against her ribs. She winced in pain, but as the Desecrated Angel brought her to its mouth, as Mrs. Monique screamed her name, Susan raised the dagger with both hands...
And slammed it down into the creature''s face. She''d aimed for the eyes, but the dagger point bounced off a patch of dark covering and sliced deep into its cheek, right into its mouth. She jerked to the side, and the dagger split the skin all the way through the corner of its lips.
It screamed, releasing her so that her feet landed on its neck. She almost slipped off, but she held onto the dagger tight, metal against its teeth. She pressed her knees on either side of its throat, bracing herself with its chin between her thighs as it screamed and screamed, the vibrations jostling her bones. The sound making her ears bleed.
But she was screaming too. And she was remembering the first angel she''d seen, the one Jenny killed with a hole puncher, bashing its head over and over. Susan stabbed the angel''s face the same way, and each time, the dagger slid deep inside with a hideous squish. She cut through its tongue. She stabbed the back of its throat and cut the roof of its mouth and knocked away teeth.
Whenever the dagger got stuck, she yanked it free and raised her arms to bring it right back down again. She made a mess of each eye, slicing through the gooey liquid spilling down the sides of its giant head. The angel lay limp on the floor, its breath gurgling in its blood-clogged throat, but no notification of its death appeared.
"Just die!" she screamed frantically. She turned around. The golden bursts of light had stopped, and there it was. A patch of exposed chest, translucent skin glistening with sweat right between its breasts. She could just about see through the layer of healing skin; she could see the heart pumping away within.
Susan fell forward and plunged the dagger into the creature''s heart. Blood spurted out, and she twisted the dagger, grasping the handle with both hands as the angel writhed beneath her.
It pierced deeper and deeper. There was the slightest hint of resistance when the tip found the heart, and Susan thought she could feel the tremors of each heartbeat racing up her arm. But then the dagger struck bone on the other side.
The Desecrated Angel let out one final, monstrous scream. Its entire body spasmed as its heart struggled to beat against the blade. Then it went quiet.
You have defeated Desecrated Angel (level 44)
Experience has been awarded
+500 Energy
Level up!
Susan Brown, level 10 -> level 21
+33 stat points
Susan whimpered. She was lying breathless on the angel''s chest, still clutching the blood-soaked dagger, only vaguely aware of Mrs. Monique cutting down another Tarnished Angel before rushing to her side.
"You did it," whispered Mrs. Monique, looking at the giant carcass and wiping blood off her face. "Holy shit."
Susan grinned, breathing hard as the adrenaline faded and fatigue surged through her insides. Her muscles felt so weak. Her head felt too heavy. She was going to collapse.
She drew up her stats before she passed out, figuring she could throw a lot more into Stamina. She gave it 25 points. The remaining 8, she applied to Durability.
Susan Brown
Human (stage ii) (level 21)
Stats:
Power: 10
Durability: 18
Stamina: 55
Agility: 11
Stat points available: (0)
Energy available: 502
When the points hit, relief surged through her. Her muscles relaxed. Her lungs stopped burning with each breath, and the exhaustion faded to a dull ache. It was still there, but her baseline Stamina was now far greater. She slid off the angel''s body and stood, leaning against its side, staring at her blood-covered hands. I can do so much now...
Jenny! Jenny, where are you? Please tell me you got stronger too.
She turned back to retrieve the dagger. Blood spurted when she pulled it out, but she wiped it on her leg, wondering if it had gotten stronger too from killing the angel. But there was nothing about that in her head.
Rainbow light flickered to life in her hands. The blood evaporated, and the blisters and scratches on her palm vanished. She grinned. I can heal them. I can heal everyone. I feel so strong.
She looked past her shimmering hands at the pool of darkness beneath her feet. Maybe I can... maybe... Was Jenny''s idea that this thing was a wound? Some tear between worlds that pulled their school into the Veil?
So if I can heal it... can we go back? But how? Susan knelt and touched her glowing hand to the darkness. But before her fingers could make contact, it slunk back and inward, recoiling away. No matter how she moved her hand, the darkness swished out of reach. Frustrated, she tried with both hands, trying to grasp a handful, but an arm burst out in front of her, and Susan fell back in surprise.
Mrs. Monique''s spear pierced the back of the creature''s skull, and its body never made it all the way through. The head toppled to the side, blood pooling from its neck, and it looked like whatever hadn¡¯t emerged had been cut away. So there was some requirement to pass through. A lightbulb went off in Susan¡¯s head; she remembered Jenny¡¯s nearly dead state. How she¡¯d held Jenny¡¯s heart in her hand. And how when Jenny came back, she¡¯d looked more and more like one of the angels. Maybe that was the key. That and her Valescent Light. She was sure Jenny was thinking along those lines.
"Did you hear that?" asked Mrs. Monique, wicking away the blood and looking up at the ugly hole in the ceiling.
Susan shook her head. "No, I just...." All she''d heard was her heart pounding and the angel screaming and...
"HELP ME!" screamed someone from above. It echoed all around, shrill and desperate, and Susan''s heart thudded against her chest. It was a girl''s voice, twisted with pain and fear.
Was it Jenny? She wasn''t sure. She couldn''t be sure. It might be. Oh god, please don''t let that have been Jenny.
She squeezed the dagger, biting her bottom lip, staring at the hole in the wall as though she might be able to see through it if she tried hard enough.
"HELP M-"
The scream cut off, and Susan cried out.
Another hand burst out of the darkness beneath her and grabbed her leg. She jerked her foot reflexively, and when the angel''s head emerged, her heel struck it on the nose. Its face crumpled in a splatter of blood, and Susan stepped away as it hissed and gurgled. She bumped into the corpse of the Desecrated Angel.
She glanced back at the hole in the ceiling, wishing she could fly up there, trying to figure out the quickest way up to the first floor.
"Something''s coming," whispered Mrs. Monique.
The ceiling rumbled. Debris rained down from the hole. The cracks around it spread and grew. Something was burrowing back down to the cafeteria, and she prayed it was Jenny.
61. Desecrated Human
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62. Valescent Love
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63. The Penultimate Cloud (Jibrail)
Jibra''il would be punished, his feathers torn out and nailed to the eyes that covered his back and arms and chest. How was he to face the other Archangels? He had failed.
He would be the last to reach the Monument. He could sense the presence of the other three above him, yet he slowed his ascent through the clouds, wings flapping at a hesitant pace. In the world of light, he''d reached such altitude that the only remaining light was not the light of the world, but the silver light emanating from his muscular form. His six wings flapped in turn, and the countless eyes that covered his body blinked and wept. Tears fell away like raindrops. His heart was heavy, for he had failed. And his failure would not go unpunished.
One hundred Survival Challenges had been issued at his command as they always have been. Every two thousand years when the worlds stood in order, in perfect harmony, he would rip one hundred puncture wounds in the fabric between worlds. One hundred Victors should have emerged as they have always emerged.
Though all hundred punctures were closed, only ninety-nine Victors returned to the material world. Only ninety-nine Survival Challenges ended.
One challenge remained in effect. This challenge had reached beyond the Veil and now threatened the very existence of the material world. The proper world. The world in which He was meant to emerge, truly victorious, inheritor of creation, the harbinger of destiny, to bring forth a Golden Age until the sacred trumpet was finally blown and all the worlds would kneel.
But now?
Jibra''il''s mighty wings beat nervously as he burst through another layer of cloud and emerged in a spray of glistening moisture. His long dark hair swished, and several feathers fell away, dissolving into vapor; he always shed when he was anxious.
The four archangels had been summoned; they had not met like this in tens of thousands of years, not since the inception of the Great Work.
Time used to roll forward slowly, from Challenge to Challenge, and Jibra''il had worked his best, instigating messiahs and guiding civilizations and harnessing rulers, but now, for a reason he could not explain or comprehend, he was certain time had accelerated. Time was no longer inconsequential. It was slipping through his feathered wingtips, and he was terrified of running out.
He was terrified the universe would end before the Great Work finished and they''d achieved perfection. It would''ve all been for naught. But these weren''t thoughts he was willing to share with the other archangels, so he prayed instead to Him, hoping He would share some guidance, some adjustment to the plan that would remedy everything. It was easier when orders came from Him; much less worrying on anyone else''s part. The Almighty''s will was absolute.
As he neared the Penultimate Cloud, the cloud before the Throne, it darkened and grew stormy as if the cloud could sense his conflictions. He had another reason to be hesitant; she was there. His once beloved. He wasn¡¯t ready to see her again.
One hundred thousand years had not been enough to dull the pain, but this was a summon he could not ignore.
Jibra''il retracted his exoskeleton. His was dark gray, metallic in appearance, and as it peeled back from his face, his silver light bloomed. Headfirst, he soared right into the dark underbelly of the cloud, and it welcomed him with a clap of thunder.
The raging storm battered him every which way, and he flapped his six wings furiously. Lightning crackled at his presence, curving around him, shooting through him, but other than a slight tickling sensation, it could not hurt him for how does light harm light? When he pierced the surface and emerged, he came to a stop with one final flap of his wings. Whisps of the cloud trailed away from his naked form, fading, precipitation dripping off his light, evaporating in hissing tendrils of steam.
Jibra''il smoothed his long dark hair back, away from his face as he took in the awe-inspiring view. The cloud wasn''t mighty in size as Jibra''il could''ve flown across it within moments, but it was higher than anything else in the worlds, save for the Throne, so it was called the Penultimate Cloud. The cloud closest to Him, closest to eternal paradise.
At its center stood the Monument, a black, box-shaped structure made from a material found nowhere else in any world. It produced no light or warmth and had absolutely no color, so its darkness was rather the absence of any light, any feature. Some called it the nothing box. Others called it the everything box. But most called it the frequented box, as hundreds of thousands of angels made pilgrimage to worship it every single day.
High above, like a multicolored halo, the worshiping angels flew in circles. This was the daily prayer; every day a new assortment of angels would rise to the heavens and worship Him.
As Jibra''il stepped carefully across the cloud, he could feel their radiating warmth. The vibrations of their prayers, their desperate cries for love and forgiveness, for perfection and glory, offering themselves completely in supplication to Him.
This was once Jibra''il''s favorite place. To sit up here by the Monument, to bathe himself in the light of countless prayers, to submit himself to prayer. Except now, he knew the other Archangels awaited him inside. And she was inside; his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again, though a part of him would rather tear his wings off and throw himself from the cloud.
He marched up to the Monument and passed through its front wall. The darkness sucked in his light and form, reverberated through him like an echo, scattering him before he emerged, whole again, on the other side. This was a privilege awarded only to the Archangels and select beloveds of the Almighty. No one else would survive the threshold.
The inside was an intimate space, small and cramped. Golden circular patterns glistened across every wall, including the ceiling, and they turned rhythmically, thrumming with light as he entered. The floor was the cloud itself, dark and storming.
Standing in the center of the space was a tall voluptuous figure shimmering with green light. His heart skipped a beat.
She wore a sheer emerald gown, the neckline cut so deep, it showcased her pale-green bosom and navel, and there were slits along the bottom that revealed her long legs. She had long, silvery hair, a high forehead, and piercing eyes that were all black, set on a face as green as her gown. She was the archangel, Rafa''el. The Flower. The Scribe. The Trumpet Blower.
Angel (stage v) (level 200)
"You took your time, beloved," she said, her voice as clear and gentle as a ritual bell on an early spring morning. Jibra''il averted his eyes, unable to hold her gaze, and certainly not able to look at her form. Though none of them wore their exoskeletons in the Monument, she wasn''t like most angels; she preferred human attire and always wore exceptional garments that accentuated her form. It was pleasing, she''d say. For her own eyes, and His, and, she''d add with a shy smile, Jibra''il''s.
On either side stood the other two archangels. The one to the right was Mika''el who radiated with blue and purple light in turn, sometimes as bright as the sky just before sunrise, sometimes as dark as a bruise.
Angel (stage vi) (level 741)
She leaned against a swirling golden pattern, her arms crossed and her eyes shut. She was slender and lean, not as tall as Rafa''el, but she preferred to be small. She''d presented as male for centuries until deciding it wasn''t right for her, slimming down to a more streamlined presence that was better suited for war. Even her wings were minimal, growing between her arms and her sides like webbing. Mika''el was the Warrior. The Relentless Storm. The Inciter.
On the left was Azra''il, the archangel of death. His form was muscular and wide; he took up quite a bit of space inside the monument, and his light was charcoal colored, like the ashes after the flames had burned out.
Angel (stage vi) (level 332)
Four enormous wings curled inwards on his back, countless eyes shining across them. He was the largest of the archangels. With a necklace of skulls over his broad chest, his hair a colony of miniature red and black serpents, each one undulating and moving of their own free will. Their scales shone like rubies stained with blood. Azra''il was the Guide. The Hellfire. And the Warden. Around his waist was a strap of leather that covered his modesty, but the leather was cut from the skin of the Tarnished, a new one every day, and Jibra''il had always found that unsettling.
Like Mika''el, Jibra''il much preferred to come naked, unashamed, for it was not his body that ever brought him shame. It was his failures. The messiahs he''d failed to save from evil whispers, the challenges he''d overseen. Neither of the other two angels spoke. They must be furious. They didn''t even look at him as he approached, taking careful steps over the cloud floor. It reacted with his every step, electrical energy sizzling up his toes and curving around his silver legs.
"Kneel," said Rafa''el, raising her voice to that grand splendor Jibra''il had once loved so dearly. It was her commanding voice. Her powerful voice. She held out her hand and unfurled her slender, green fingers to reveal a bright, red fruit.
Jibra''il knelt on the storm cloud, his arms at his side, lightning tickling his knees. He picked the fruit off Rafa''el''s hand with his teeth, unable to stop himself from glancing at her body. It made him jealous, knowing the other two had knelt here as well, had eaten the fruit off her beautiful hand, had seen her chest and hips from this angle, but jealousy was a sin.
Staring into her eyes as she stroked his hair, his lips closed around the fruit, and he crushed it between his teeth. Blood, hot and thick, gushed into his mouth and ran down his throat. The heavy fluid spread through his silver body, the redness curling and blooming before fading, and he shuddered as he absorbed it.
"Rise," she said in her grand voice, and Jibra''il stood. He came up to her chest where her gown split open, and she held him to the green warmth of her bosom. "It has been too long since I''ve seen you last, my beloved one." This she spoke quietly, in the private, whispered voice shared only between angels who''d known the other''s light intimately.
He shut his eyes and sighed, the fruit¡¯s blood still streaming from his lips and absorbing into his form as he basked in her glow. She was the light of life itself, he liked to think. Like the plants that covered the material world; he wanted her to cover him. To grow all over him and into him. Her embrace was so soft, so welcoming, and he longed for the days they''d been lovers. But so many years had passed since he''d held her in the privacy of their cloud chambers, their light blended into one, silver and emerald, like treetops shivering in moonlight, that he felt he had no right to overstay his welcome.
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He had loved her more furiously and more passionately than any star in any universe could ever dream of burning. And he loved her still, and he knew he''d always love her, all the way to the end of time, when all the lights of all the worlds had run out of Energy, and all that remained was darkness. He would love her through eternity.
But it had been easier to love her before, when it hadn''t hurt, when Jibra''il had been Jibra''el, and their eyes and wings would blink in unison, inseparable as salt in the winds of the sea. Then the Almighty had chosen Rafa''el as the scribe, to carve the ruminations of destiny onto the ancient Tablet with her ability, Veridian Scripture. She''d been claimed by Him, and they''d realized that they loved each other more than Him. That was the gravest sin of all, and she had made her decision.
In grief, Jibra''el transformed into Jibra''il. Taking the shape of a man, untangling himself from Rafa''el because it only hurt. It always hurt.
Stepping away, Jibra''il took her hand and kissed the fingers that marked down time itself, and she touched his cheek, a longing, mournful gaze in her eyes that asked countless questions. Are you alright? I miss you. I hope you are well. But she turned away with a swish of her gown, and he stepped back, the customary conditions satisfied for the discussion of holy matters.
"Have you heard the news?" she said.
Jibra''il looked at the others. He''d expected admonishment. Anger. They''d already known that a Survival Challenge hadn''t ended. Mika''el sighed and didn''t say a word, but she met Jibra''il''s eyes and glowered, her skin more purple than blue.
Azra''il picked at the teeth of one of his necklace skulls with a long fingernail. "Mortals have awakened abilities to challenge our own," he said in a deep, gravelly voice. His brows were furrowed. They were serpents too, their heads meeting at the center where their tongues darted between his blood-red eyes. "There were two, in fact."
Jibra''il dimmed with confusion. "The count stopped at ninety-nine. The work has not been completed. Isn''t that why we''ve gathered? I have failed."
Azra''il shook his head. His serpents whisked about. "You haven''t failed, dear brother. You orchestrated the Challenges as you always do. This crime was the work of interlopers."
"What?" Jibra''il. He simultaneously felt relief and anxiety; relief that he wasn''t to blame, anxiety for what he didn¡¯t know.
"Interlopers," repeated Rafa''el. ¡°The Antithesis has made its presence known.¡± She sank to the cloud floor, her emerald gown spreading like the petals of a flower. She looked so beautiful, it ached to stare for too long, but Jibra''il realized it was her way of ordering everyone to sit. She was the weakest in level, but Rafa¡¯el was the closest to Him. She held authority over all angels, all creation.
The others slid to the floor as well. Azra''il squatted, the leather cloth flapping between his thighs, his broad chest presented proudly. Mika''el sat with her legs folded beneath her, her hands folded neatly on her lap, her webbed wings nearly invisible.
Jibra''il completed the circle, his fingers digging into his palms, his legs crossed beneath him. He saw Rafa¡¯el¡¯s gaze flicker toward his manhood, but he didn¡¯t move to cover himself. "I thought it was me. I thought my sins... I thought my abilities had failed. I thought I had failed."
Rafa¡¯el smiled at him, her green eyes shimmering as she shook her head. "No, my beloved, you could never fail. You have always been dutiful in carrying out His will."
He knew that if she could, she''d reach out and touch him, not in the welcoming way she''d embraced him before, but the deeper way, where their lights would merge. He knew that he would let her, despite the sanctity of the Monument, and he knew that that was why she would never.
Rafa¡¯el continued. "The Challenge could not conclude due to the actions of two young mortals. Their love..." She paused on the word ¡®love¡¯ and glanced to the side. "It was their love, foolish and naive love that bound them together. One actualized an ability to reconstruct reality. The other severed her ties between spirit and form, becoming as the Tarnished do. Together, they circumvented the Challenge and returned to their world alongside other mortals whose sacrifice was foregone. No true Victor emerged, and thus the Survival Challenge continues within the material world itself. Our Guidance System has already responded to these circumstances."
Jibr¡¯il shook his head. His wings stretched by reflex, all his eyes opening and shutting across his body, and he saw Mika''el¡¯s large eye, the one on her chest, spring open in shock. But she regained her composure quickly, and Jibra''il tried to do the same. He put his face in his hands.
"Do you need a moment?" asked Rafa¡¯el.
"No," said Jibra''il through his fingers. "I just do not understand. This is not how humans behave. In every Survival Challenge issued to humankind, they have never... they always, without fail, surrendered relentlessly to their needs." His wings flickered again, and it took more willpower than he was proud to admit to fold them back into place and shut all his eyes. He knew why she''d asked him and the others to sit. Had they been standing, he would''ve paced back and forth, and the storm beneath them would have responded in kind.
"It seems we have underestimated them," said Azra''il. He clucked his tongue. "You should see them in Hell. Filthy creatures."
"Hold your tongue," said Rafa''el coldly. "We do not speak ill of the dead. They serve their purpose."
"No, but they speak plenty ill to each other." Azra''il snorted. "Come listen to them when I administer the divine punishments. How they beg. How they scream. They would sell their own mothers, their own children to avoid it."
As they went back and forth, Jibra''il''s mind spun. Humans. He''d lived among their kind for so long. He''d watched civilizations emerge and fall. Rulers and ravagers, it was always the same. Brief moments of kindness and love, followed by tremendous strings of tragedy.
Humans always ruthlessly sought one thing: to meet their desires. Whether it was food or rest, mating or violence, humans were ruled by the needs and wants of their bodies. It was why sinful angels were punished, Tarnished, forced into physical flesh, forced to succumb to such madness, and prevented from ascending to divinity. To be material was to be sinful, and that was the nature of the Great Work. To eliminate all sin. To eradicate the cravings of the flesh. For all to be clean and holy.
He almost wanted to reject Rafa''el''s news. But he knew she could not lie. She was unable to. She could not so much as even bend the truth, for since becoming the Scribe, she only spoke of things written on the Tablet.
And for the survival challenge to be in effect in the material world... effectively Rapture... this was the final war, whether they liked it or not. Whether it had been part of the plan or not, and he knew Rafa¡¯el was shaken by this. It had not appeared on the tablet. It had not been projected. It had not been ordained. She would¡¯ve informed all His angels if that were the case.
The final war was here, and if they waited too long, there would be nothing left. The material world would devour itself; humankind would end before they could be saved. And if they failed here, it would be the end of the Great Work.
He sat quietly, ruminating, as Rafa''el told the rest of the tale once Azra''il''s distaste for humanity had quieted. Mika¡¯el stood once as if she had something to say, but she stared at them blankly, crossed her arms and shook her head, and sat back down. Lightning coursed through her blue and purple glow, and Azra''il had only laughed. Rafa''el squeezed Mika¡¯el¡¯s hand, and she shot Jibra''il a worried look before continuing.
She explained the ending of the unfinished challenge. Jibra''il was curious. It was obfuscated for some reason, and he''d sensed something powerful was at play. Which was why he''d fled. He''d assumed he''d sinned. He''d assumed he''d be punished severely, but as Rafa¡¯el explained the details, and even Azra''il leaned forward to listen, Jibra''il''s feeling of unease grew monstrous.
One of the mortals had slaughtered her beloved in a Desecrated state of mind, and this confirmed his belief that humans were beyond sense, but the other, the mortal¡¯s beloved, had openly sacrificed herself. Offered herself to save the Desecrated, to absolve the Desecrated of all sin. And her ability to reconstruct matter flowed into the severer.
"What of them?" asked Azra''il. His red eyes burned brightly as he raised his voice. "The dead one has been collected. She''d come peacefully. We should find the other."
¡°She has moved beyond our view,¡± said Rafa¡¯el.
Jibra¡¯il was speechless. Did the mortal know what she was capable of? Did she know the threat she posed? Despite this, he had the horrible foreboding that Rafa¡¯el had even worse news to share.
"The worst," spoke Rafa¡¯el, lowering her gaze, her hand raised slightly, fingers moving as though she were marking the Tablet as she spoke. "The worst is what the severer did upon rejecting Victory, rejecting the challenge, and returning to the Material world."
They all held their breath, their lights shimmering. The golden patterns on the walls turned quickly, as if they too were disturbed by the news.
Rafa¡¯el took a deep breath, her green light shining brilliantly before fading. "She''s become the Second Mary and given birth. The Antithesis now has material form.¡±
"NO!" shouted Azra''il. Lightning shot through his enormous form, transforming into vicious red shades before crackling all around him. Every single one of his serpents hissed.
Mika gasped. They had waited two thousand years for a new Mary, to birth the Almighty into the world. And now even that was undone. This Mary, this second Mary, had plunged all the worlds into chaos. She''d birthed the Antithesis. The Antichrist. The Unbecoming.
They had known the Antithesis would emerge one day. It was written on the Tablet by Rafa''s hand. The details had remained obscured, but this? This was... this was madness. Birthed by a Mary? Birthed from a Survival Challenge? The Great Plan had always been to bring Rapture about themselves after the conclusion of the final Survival Challenge. For Him to reawaken in the material world and forge an army of light from the victors. So that when the Antithesis arrived, the worlds would be well prepared to protect creation.
But here they were. This was the present. The now. This was what had come to pass.
"Will He see us?" asked Jibra''il in a low voice. He longed to see the Almighty, to stand in His presence, to bow his head in shame and beg forgiveness. To seek guidance. It had been two thousand years since he¡¯d seen the Almighty last as only Rafa¡¯el was permitted to fly up to the Throne. Another pang of jealousy struck his heart. Jealousy that Rafa¡¯el could see Him. And jealousy that the Almighty could keep Rafa¡¯el all for Himself.
Azra''il scoffed. Mika¡¯el bowed her head. It was Rafa''el who answered him. "The Almighty does not wish to be seen until He has procured material form once more and the work is renewed. A suitable candidate must be found, for whom you must be the guide, my beloved."
"A third Mary?"
"As it will be," said Rafa¡¯el. She blinked and reached for the air. "It has been written, but the Mary has not yet been decided. Fate seeks her out. And the actions of the mortals... everything in such confusion, such disharmony."
Jibra''il shook his head. So much uncertainty. Rafa''el only wrote what she saw, inscribing destiny into the tablet, but everything was always shifting, winding and unwinding, until it was done and set in stone. It must be agony for her; here he''d been lamenting his failures and lamenting what was to come without consideration for what Rafa''el must see. What Rafa''el must bear as the ending approached.
"The Antithesis will build an army," said Azra''il. "We have always known this. Why are we alarmed? The dead are prepared. Our angels are ready. The humans will fall in line."
"And we shall rain blood and storm on all who oppose Him," said Mika quietly, speaking for the first time. "We shall wage war in His name and bring perfection to all creation."
Azra''il laughed. "You have waited long and patiently for the bloodshed, my sister. It will be glorious seeing you in action again. We shall be victorious, and He will ascend-"
"-for he is the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful," they finished in unison.
"And what of the severer?" asked Jibra''il after a solemn moment of silence. It was a struggle to even think of such a mortal. The power to sever. The power to reconstruct. Only the Almighty possessed such duality, even Jibra''il himself could only open wounds between worlds. He could not heal them, only shut them once the challenges had ended. He hadn''t known it was possible to heal them.
Rafa''el smiled sadly, a smile that made Jibra''il''s heart twinge. He wanted to pick her up. Wanted to hold her in his arms and press his lips to the crease in her radiant forehead and assure her that whatever she''d written, whatever she''d foreseen, they would be together.
"That we do not know, my love. She slipped through the worlds, beyond our reach. But she is vital. The Tablet has reached its final lines, I can feel the ending approaching, and her name appears so many times, I have memorized the shape of her. She will go on to commit such a crime against the Almighty, against destiny itself. But this has not been affixed. It remains in flux, obscured from my sight. The words shift with unease. She must be stopped at all costs. We must stop her at all costs."
A crime against the Almighty? Jibra''il''s wings shuddered, but he managed to hold his composure as Mika''el smacked her thighs with her fists, unable to suppress her rage. Azra''il crushed one of the skulls on his necklace, the bone shards scattering in all directions. The Penultimate Cloud responded with the booming roar of thunder.
"And what is her name?" asked Jibra''il quietly. He couldn''t understand how a mortal could do anything against Him. Against destiny.
"Jenny Huang."
64. Among the Pillars
What delusion am I convincing myself of right now to pretend I''m okay?
She''s dead.
I killed her.
Jenny blinked away tears, trying to stop them, but even with her eyes tightly shut, the tears kept coming, kept bubbling off her cheeks into the radiant golden light she was falling through. I''m going to find her. I''m going to find you, Susan.
Then I¡¯ll be okay.
I''ll fix this.
Streams of color swirled around her. She bit down hard on her hatchet as she waded deeper through the light, trying to swim, trying to sink. A river of orange weaved and curled around her body. Dark blue streams mingled with the sky-blue of her new armor, and greens danced across the edge of her hatchet and her face like liquid emeralds. She kept sinking, falling ¨C she couldn¡¯t tell which. All she knew was that she had to get away from the school, from the cafeteria, from Susan''s cold body.
I''m okay. I''ll find her. I''ll be okay.
Am I okay? Am I delusional?
I''m not - I''m not - I''m not!
I KILLED her. I tried to eat her. She''s dead. She''s dead. She''s dead!
I''m not okay. I can''t be okay. I never have been. How the fuck can I-
I''ll find her.
She sobbed, grinding her teeth on the hatchet¡¯s handle, and the light responded. Golden ripples reverberated through everything, through her. Her dark hair streamed over her head, and she stretched out her arms. This was Susan''s light, after all. Valescent Light. It was Susan''s light that brought them home, Susan''s love. But how? How had they accessed this space between worlds?
Is it cause I''m Desecrated?
The notifications from earlier still filled her mind: Severed Spirit. Existential Error. Natural Order Corruption. Rapture.
I''m broken. I''m broken. I''ve always been-
This golden rainbow light was something wonderful. Something miraculous. Something that made no sense; how could light be liquid? How could she wade into it, swim through it, sink deeper and deeper? She knew she was between worlds, but this was nothing like the eerie, sickly glow of the Veil. This was something more...
All she remembered was Susan using Valescent Light. And the state Jenny had been in. I was a monster; I am a monster. And how the darkness beneath them had reacted, convulsing as though Susan was healing it. Had she healed the wound between worlds? Was that how they''d escaped the Veil?
Wasn¡¯t that what Eve told her?
They''d fallen through the light, the same light the high school and everyone inside had fallen through, to get back to New York. They''d pulled themselves out of hell, but...
Rapture has commenced.
The Final Challenge is in effect.
All they''d managed to do was throw themselves into another nightmare. And now Susan was dead, and Jenny was... She¡¯d run away.
Why did I leave?
I didn''t run. I''m going to find her. The world of death. That''s where Susan had to be. Eve had shown Jenny the worlds; she knew the world had to exist, that death couldn''t just be the end. There had to be something more; even if it was only something she remembered from her vague memories of Sunday School at her mother¡¯s Church. Heaven and Hell. The Hereafter. The eternal soul. She just had to get there and find Susan and bring her back and then everything will be okay.
Why are you deluding yourself?
There is no world of death. You just didn''t want to stay and fight anymore. You''re a coward. You gave birth to that thing. You plunged the world into Rapture and you ran. You killed your best friend. The girl that you love. You ate Miriam alive. You almost ate your brother.
You''re a failure.
You¡¯re a monster.
You¡¯re disgusting.
SHUT UP! She spat the hatchet out of her mouth and stopped trying to swim, stopped trying to move. The lump in her throat hurt so much she swore she would choke. Floating, trying to be as still as possible, Jenny sobbed. The hatchet hovered gently in front of her, twirling slowly as it waited for her. I don¡¯t know where I¡¯m going; I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing. Can the light hear me? Can it guide me?
I want to find Susan. Please help me.
Is there a world where people go when they die? There has to be. Take me there!
Please.
A bright splash of yellow engulfed her. Then several blue rings swum around, slowly turning green as they mixed through the yellow. Then came orange. Then red. A dark, crimson curtain that smothered the golden light and swallowed every other color. Her new armor, fashioned after Susan''s favorite color, the one she''d made after sinking into the light, glimmered with the blood-red hue, and she remembered the exoskeleton that had gushed out of her belly button. She remembered how she''d transformed. Red tendrils of color stretched around her, and Jenny grabbed her hatchet and swung at them.
Her limbs moved slowly; everything was so slow, like she was underwater, underlight. But the red looked like the tentacles she¡¯d had, and when the hatchet¡¯s obsidian edge cut through them, they shimmered and dissipated like ink in water. Whatever Susan had done back there, she¡¯d done more than just heal Jenny. Her tentacles were gone, and the exoskeleton no longer grew out of her; I¡¯m not a monster. I¡¯m not a monster. I¡¯m not a monster!
But I am!
She flung her hatchet as far as she could; Get away from me! She clawed at her face. At her eyes, she could almost feel how empty they were. Lifeless. Inhuman. Just like the angels. But even as they burst and gushed beneath her fingernails, as she scraped her sockets, clawed at bone, even as she peeled the skin off her cheeks, the light caressed her like cooling rain. It healed her injuries in seconds, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to hurt.
As if upset by her actions, the light stopped holding her up. A scream tore through the lump in her throat, and she kicked and struggled as she fell, plummeting like a meteor into a golden ocean, burning up a million colors. Then, like an eye closing beneath her, the light and all the swirling colors between worlds snapped shut.
Jenny collapsed face-first onto cold, hard ground. Her hatchet landed beside her.
Something like sand, or maybe ash, tickled her nose when she inhaled. The taste was sharp on her tongue, salty and metallic, and she coughed violently. Everything burned inside. She was exhausted. She was beyond exhausted. She¡¯d been fighting nonstop since the Survival Challenge began.
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Jenny pushed herself onto her knees and looked around. Was this another world? It felt... it didn''t feel like she was somewhere else. There wasn''t that unsettling sensation of weightlessness that she''d felt in Eve''s world. And the ground felt like ground. The gravity was the same as Earth''s. Heavy storm clouds clung to the sky. It was dark, but there was a soft, pale glow that came from somewhere beyond the clouds, and it was enough light for Jenny to make out the crudely shaped pillars that stood in front of her.
The pillars were spread out, about an arm''s length of space between them, and they reminded her of trees, like standing on the edge of the woods. She almost thought they were rock formations, but they had to have been manmade. Or maybe angelmade. There was something uncanny about them that she couldn''t explain. Something in their shapes that seemed carefully chipped away to form specific grooves and patterns. These might''ve been ancient statues of worship or something like Stone Henge.
As she stood, she realized it was some kind of forest. A forest of strange rocks. Countless pillars stood in front of her, and to her right and left, there were even more, spreading like a coastline that seemed to go on indefinitely. Behind her, the world was flat. There was no wind, no hills, no roads, or anything. It was a vast, endless expanse of nothing but dark ground with clouds rolling overhead. Jenny turned to face the line of pillars again, and, almost right beneath her armored feet, the ground shifted.
The grainy, dark earth cracked, and Jenny stepped back, summoning her hatchet with a flash of golden light as something jutted out from the crack. It expanded upward like a rapidly growing tree, and it took her a second to realize it was another pillar.
She lowered her hatchet, breathing heavily, staring at this new pillar that stood right in front of her. The rock was dark, almost glassy, and she held up her hatchet against it to find they were very similar. Was it also obsidian?
To her right, another one sprang out of the dirt, slightly different from the one before, a bit shorter. Further along the pillar-tree line, Jenny saw more and more pillars growing out of the ground. They were expanding into the emptiness, like a forest claiming more land. Jenny wondered how far the pillars went, how many of them there were. Why did the light bring me here?
Or had she brought herself here?
Wasn''t that how they left the Veil? Guiding everything and everyone back home? She shut her eyes again and inhaled deeply. The salty air stung, but she didn''t care. Everything flashed through her thoughts, from the first angel that had attacked her English classroom, whose head she¡¯d smashed in with a hole puncher, to the Desecrated Angel and its nightmarish blue light, to Miriam. Miriam who Jenny had hunted across the school and ripped apart and eaten. Then Susan.
Susan. How could she have done that to Susan?
It wasn''t me.
It wasn''t me!
That''s what she wanted to believe. Had to believe. It couldn''t have been her. Someone else had been in control. She''d been Severed. She''d been out of her mind. An anomaly. Existential Error.
Another scream burst out of her throat and when a new pillar erupted from the ground, Jenny struck it over and over with her hatchet. The impacts drew sparks, and the clinks and clangs rang all around her, echoing, bouncing from pillar to pillar. But each time she struck it, golden light shimmered across the obsidian edge of her hatchet, flashing over and over.
Through her tears, through her rage, she thought she saw something inside the pillar. A glimpse of something terrible, so quick, she couldn¡¯t recognize what it was, but fear surged through her limbs and notifications streamed into her head:
+100 Energy
+100 Energy
+100 Energy
Her angry cries broke. She held her breath, not even daring to swallow as she stared, trembling. She felt her heart pounding in her throat. There was no change in the pillar¡¯s appearance, no indication that she''d even attacked it. None of its glossy rock face had so much as chipped. No cracks. No sign of damage. But she was afraid. Like she¡¯d done something horrible again.
And she¡¯d gained Energy. She remembered her hatchet¡¯s new ability:
Hatchet (Tier 3): Your weapon now harvests Energy with every attack that invokes pain.
Shaking, she lowered her head and studied her hatchet. The obsidian face, dark and metallic and sharp, looked as it did since the moment it hit Tier 3. And the wooden handle, stained by dried blood, smudged fingerprints, the ridges and grooves where a floral pattern had been... It had once looked so pretty. But she''d hurt the pillar. She¡¯d harvested Energy from that pain.
The hatchet dropped from her hand. The edge sank into the dirt so that its handle jutted out. She stared at the pillar, even as two more grew beside it. Was it... could it be? Alive?
"Hello?" she whispered, her voice hoarse from all the screaming. What was inside these things? Why was she scared of the answer?
Would the pillars hatch? She could''ve sworn she''d seen something when her hatchet had flashed. Maybe these things were like the angels'' chrysalises, and she shuddered as more memories filled her head: the angel couple in the stairwell, the boy she''d burnt to death; the blue chrysalis in the chem wing where she''d nearly died, where she''d found Oliver and other survivors, where an angel had sucked her blood out through her broken nose.
She took another step back, glancing at the other pillars, squinting at them in disbelief, trying to quell the dizziness. They just looked like rocks. What was going on? How could she hurt them? What could be inside them? They didn''t even register as anything in her head. There was no notification. No indication that they were anything other than strange rocks that came out of the ground.
Maybe she needed more light. Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand. Her blue armor peeled back from her fingers and hand, revealing pale skin, and, with a snap of her fingers, she used Ignite. Fire flickered across her knuckles. A flame took shape, flickering and growing. Her arm had become a torch, and an orange and red glow surrounded her like a bubble of warmth and light. It cast shadows, her own and that of the pillars, tall and looming, but the warmth felt pleasant on Jenny''s face, and she felt like the only thing that was alive in this eerie, absent world. A thought crossed her mind: if there were predators in this world, they might see the fire and come for her.
Good, she thought, her skin prickling. Let them. Some part of her still ached with bloodthirst. She really, really wanted to hit something, but she shuddered at the thought of another fight. She wasn''t sure why. Maybe her body could sense something. Maybe she was just hungry. Maybe she was just afraid.
As Jenny walked up to the pillar she¡¯d attacked, the dizzying fear response struck her again. It hit her in the chest, harder this time, taking her breath away. Maybe she shouldn¡¯t do this; maybe she shouldn¡¯t look. She wanted to hide. It would be better not to know.
But why?
Her foot had frozen midair, just before the final step. The orange glow of her flames reflected off the pillar¡¯s surface, and, if she squinted, she could just about see the silhouette of something inside. A person? An insect? What could it be?
Why was she sweating? Her heart stammered. Her knees went weak. Why did she feel like she was doing something awful; as though she were sleeping on the floor again, a kid, praying for God¡¯s forgiveness, terrified that she¡¯d done something wrong and would be punished. Praying her mother wouldn¡¯t come hit her.
Fuck this.
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to compose herself, trying to bury the fear response. She¡¯d fought much worse, seen much worse, and whatever this thing was, she had to know. That was the only way to deal with fear, by exposing it.
She forced herself to put her foot down. Forced herself to come face to face with the pillar. Forced herself to bring her nose right up against it, her burning hand raised overhead. As the inners of the dark pillar became clear, as her eyes focused on what was inside, Jenny''s jaw dropped.
Death (Level 0)
She clapped both hands over her mouth and stumbled back, choking on a cry as her fire went out. The person inside vanished from view. It was a man.
She was sure of it. A middle-aged man, trapped inside, his face twisted in agony as he stared back at her with strained, bulging eyes. And his guts... Jenny¡¯s stomach heaved. She¡¯d seen so many people and angels cut open, but this? This sight seared itself into her mind. She forced herself to look again. Just to be sure.
But without light, the pillar was just dark, just a rock. With a shaky breath, she used Ignite again, but she kept the flame smaller this time, focused on her fingertip as though she¡¯d lit a lighter. The man came back into view, his wide eyes shining in the firelight; he was so close that it was like he was just on the other side of a window. His face was maybe a few inches from Jenny¡¯s, and she had a clear view of his insides.
The man inside the pillar was split from his ribcage to his groin. His arms hung limp, shoulders drooped, and he stood unmoving, as though his limbs were stuck to the pillar, but his eyes followed her. His intestines spilled out like enormous, glistening snakes, and they latched onto the pillar. Something moved through them, bulging up and down the length of each intestine. She could see his lungs expand and contract, could see his heart beating rapidly, each beat threatening to force his heart out of his exposed chest. She could see the whites of his ribs, jutting out like monstrous fangs, and when she caught sight of tears watering from reddening eyes, when she realized he couldn¡¯t blink and her fire¡¯s light must be agony to someone so used to the dark, her entire body convulsed. Jenny stumbled, bumping into another pillar, and glimpsed a young girl trapped inside.
She shook out her flame and cried out; she couldn¡¯t take it anymore. Was there a person in every single one of these? She doubled over and retched.
Vomit splattered the ground. Chunks of half-digested meat rolled across the salty dirt, and the sight of that, the acrid stench of it, and the ugly realization that she recognized where the meat had come from made her retch again.
65. What am I supposed to do?
There were no other names for the people encased by the pillars. No other notifications appeared in Jenny''s head. It was only when she shone light over them that they became translucent and Jenny could see the whites of their eyes, and the notification filled her head:
Death (level 0)
Some of them looked around her age, teenagers and young adults. Some were older with gray hair and wrinkled skin. She even found children; the worst were the toddlers and the babies. Their pillars were the smallest, barely coming up to Jenny''s shins. She could''ve easily mistaken them for random stones, but when Jenny knelt and held her flames to them, she could see the young ones, standing just like all the others, their chubby arms and legs, their bellies open with their guts attached to the pillar like umbilical cords. She could see their hearts beating, their organs glistening, and their eyes... wide and expressive and so, so afraid and moving. Every single one of them was responsive; she knew they could see her.
She was careful not to make her flames too big or too bright, cupping her burning hand with the other to dim it as much as she could. A few of their lips moved, as though they were talking, but Jenny couldn¡¯t hear them. They couldn¡¯t raise their arms or turn their bodies, but their eyes followed her. Jenny tried to smile, tried to reassure them somehow. But what was the use if they couldn¡¯t hear her? Could they even understand her?
Her stomach quivered from her retching, and she placed a hand over her navel. The children in the pillars reminded her of the angel babies that had followed her through the school; how they''d imprinted on her. What had happened to them? Were they okay? The last thing she remembered was sending them with Susan... they must''ve tried defending her from Miriam. Had any of them survived?
Jenny sighed and wiped her lips. She tried to relax her shoulders. Where am I? she asked with her mind. System? What is this place? Can you tell me?
After a moment''s hesitation, when nothing responded, she added, out loud, "Eve?" It was a faint whisper, a faint hope. But again, there was no response. Eve was gone.
There was no trace of it left in Jenny''s head. And why would there be? Eve now had a body, an exact copy of Jenny''s; her body, her face, her eyes. And what did Jenny have? She¡¯d escaped the high school and the Survival Challenge, but what did she have? She was alone, her eyes were empty, and she was surrounded by... these things. Swallowing hard to keep from throwing up again, she took a breath, trying to steady herself. But she couldn¡¯t stop the scream, "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"
Her voice cracked. Her lungs burned. She dropped to her knees and punched the ground as hard as she could. Tears welled up, and she struck the ground again and again. As the dust clouded around her and she tasted it on her tongue, she realized it wasn''t sand at all. It was salt.
"Is someone there?"
It was a whisper, a soft sigh moving through the air, and Jenny summoned her hatchet back with a flash of light. She was done with hearing strange voices, done trying to solve mysteries, but she was sure that someone had spoken. Out loud. It wasn''t something else in her head. This sounded like a man''s voice.
"Are you alive?" came the whisper again like a gentle breeze. "Can you help me?"
Shivers ran down Jenny''s spine. She didn''t recognize the voice at all. It had to be someone from this world. But why did they need help?
"Who are you?" Jenny whispered back. She wasn''t sure why she was whispering. There was no wind here. No warmth or coolness, only the salty pillars and the gloomy sky, but somehow, being alive, felt strange and wrong.
"It''s been so long.... Find me, please. Follow my voice. I will sing for you."
Sing? Why would anyone want to sing in a place like this? "Why can''t you just come to me?" asked Jenny, turning around and around, trying to pinpoint where the whispering was coming from. All she could see were the pillars. "Who are you?"
But as she searched every direction for any sign of anyone, half expecting an angel or a ghost or something worse, she heard humming, a deep, low humming. It was a tune, something sad and lonely. Long drawn-out notes followed by words. But these weren''t words that Jenny understood. It was in a different language, something ancient or alien. She''d never heard anything like it before.
Forcing herself to calm down, Jenny took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and listened intently to pinpoint the direction of the singing.
She would have to venture into the pillar forest. Jenny glanced behind her at the flat expanse of land again. It was so empty, not even a hill or a sand dune in sight, just barren flatness as far as the world went. But more and more pillars spurted out of the ground. More and more kept taking shape, and she knew each one had a person inside.
She listened again for the song. It sounded so pained, and a deep sorrow and anguish shifted inside her even though she couldn''t understand the words. Touching her hatchet¡¯s obsidian face to her forehead and squeezing the handle, she wondered what to do. She wished Susan was here; Susan was good at languages. Good at helping people. Susan would help whoever was singing, because if they were singing to get her attention, it might mean they were stuck. They couldn''t come to Jenny. And they''d asked for help. There was no way Susan wouldn¡¯t find a way to help them.
"Okay," whispered Jenny. Then, with conviction, "I''ll help you."
Her mind made up, she stepped forward, moving carefully and deliberately to sidestep each pillar and not accidentally brush up against one. She didn''t generate any flames; she didn''t look too closely at the pillars. Her skin crawled as she walked. She could almost feel every single set of eyes on her, so she tried to focus on the voice, the ebb and flow of their song. Their voice went low and high and low again, slowly and purposefully, as though they were singing something religious, something from the Church. She reminded herself to breathe every time the singer paused to take a breath.
The pillars loomed, and she tried not to study their shapes and ridges. Each one looked like arms wrapped around someone from certain angles. Sometimes she swore she recognized the outline of someone''s shoulders. Maybe their elbows. Maybe their hips. Without any fire or light, she didn''t have to glimpse the person inside, but her imagination kept running wild. The deaths inside were just too creepy.
Why were these things even bothering her? Shouldn''t she be desensitized to the horror? How many people had she seen cut open and bleeding? How many people and angels had she cut open? She''d lost track, but the more she tried to remember, the more she was salivating.
I''m salivating.
Jenny paused and sucked in a breath through her teeth, spittle dribbling down her chin. She rubbed her eyes with her palms, her arms itching to try ripping her face off again.
Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!
She kept seeing flashes of Susan''s face, her smile. Her dust-covered blue hair as she''d held Jenny. As Jenny''s teeth sank into Susan''s throat and that taste. The burst of sweet madness, more delicious than anything she''d ever known before-
Stop!
Swallowing hard, Jenny straightened her shoulders and lifted her face toward the sky, as though she was trying to hold back tears. The tears came anyway. Susan had healed her so thoroughly, but what had been the point? Susan was dead, and now Jenny had her ability, Valescent Light.
As if in response, the rainbow of colors shimmered around her arm and climbed her hatchet. Reds and purples and oranges, curving and forming circles and rings, loops that faded in and out as her arm took on a golden hue.
Could I open another passage between worlds? Could I leave this place?
But she grimaced. Her multicolored light revealed the bodies in the pillars, more clearly than the fire did, and every single person around her seemed drawn to it. Their eyes wide and staring. Jenny felt a strange itch. A strange itch that seemed to shoot right into her mind and get stuck, and if only she could scratch it... if she could... maybe she could...
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It was like a thought just out of reach, but with all these trapped people staring, with the singing, she couldn¡¯t quite grasp the thought. Frustrated, she pressed her glowing hand to the nearest pillar. It was an elderly woman, so ancient her wrinkles hid her eyes, but the light did nothing. The woman stared back, tears streaming down her cheeks, her lips moving silently, her intestines glistening.
Maybe I¡¯m doing it wrong, thought Jenny bitterly as she shook her hand free. An ugly shudder went up her spine, and she felt bad for exposing the old woman to more light. Taking a breath, she listened for the song again.
The tune had changed, and there were new lines. These words weren''t in English, but somehow, she understood them:
Save me from this despair,
I have been here so long, forsaken.
Take me from this wretched place.
Such sweet, exquisite pain.
Father, make me whole again.
Mother, tuck me into bed.
With a sigh, Jenny continued in that direction. Her heart ached; she wasn''t sure why. Somehow the song pulled on something familiar... some horrible, miserable pain, and flashes of her rapid pregnancy flickered through her thoughts. She remembered how her belly expanded so quickly, ballooning as the glowing, monstrous baby gushed out of her. The way her ribs cracked and her insides expanded and how she could''ve sworn her entire soul was trying to escape. She shuddered and switched the hatchet from one hand to the other.
Too many thoughts. I''m thinking too much...
Sometimes, the singing stopped. Jenny would stop as well, as once or twice, she''d tried to keep going but only managed to turn herself around. Then the song would pick up again, and Jenny would course correct. Whoever was singing must get tired. It was better to just wait in the gloomy dark.
She kept expecting something to hiss. Something to leap out from some dark patch of salty ground. Unease clung to her so fiercely, and she wasn''t sure if it was the world or something from within or both. Salt stung her lips and throat and lungs; she wished she had her tentacles. They would make finding this strange singer so much easier. And if anything else was lurking, her tentacles would''ve sensed them. Sometimes she reached for them with her mind, trying to flex muscles she no longer had. She swore she could feel them, could feel their thirst. Where had they gone?
She touched her navel, her blue armor peeling away to reveal the pale skin of her navel, flat and muscular. The armor responded too her so easily, it almost felt like her exoskeleton and not armor she''d created using the System. Blue. As blue as Susan''s hair had been.
Why?
Jenny had grown so strong, but what was the point? She squeezed her hand against her stomach. She dug inside her belly button, scraping the inside with a fingernail, searching. Where had the exoskeleton come from? Where was it now? She was a Desecrated Human, so where was it?
Where is it?
Was she supposed to build a chrysalis and- Well, she didn''t know what the Desecrated Angels had been doing.
What the fuck am I, Guidance System?
She shuddered as lingering notifications flicked through her thoughts; she¡¯d felt them at the edge of her consciousness. They must¡¯ve gotten stuck when she¡¯d...
Ranking Bonus! Stage ii -> EXISTENTIAL ERROR
Wretched Human -> Desecrated Human
Congratulations on GUIDANCE SYSTEM ERROR
+50 Stat Points have been awarded
A second Energy Core has been awarded
Natural Order Corruption
Awaiting Metamorphosis
You have defeated Wretched Human (level 24)
Experience has been awarded
+1200 Energy
You have defeated Human (stage ii) (level 21)
Experience has been awarded
+1600 Energy
Dismissing each notification, trying not to linger on how much Energy she¡¯d gotten from Susan, Jenny pulled up her stats, hoping it would give her some answers:
Jenny Huang
Desecrated Human (level 30) (existential error)
Age: 6,802 days
stats:
Power: 30
Stamina: 25
Durability: 20
Agility: 25
Stat points available: 62
Energy available: 4806
Bloodlust Ecstasy
Energy Cores (2)
She focused hard on the numbers, all her stat points and Energy. Everything from Existential Error to Bloodlust Ecstasy... she wanted to cry. She wasn¡¯t Severed; she¡¯d been Severed right up until Susan pulled her out and healed her thoroughly. But then? Eve had taken Jenny¡¯s eyes and left her Desecrated anyway. So, what was she?
How did any of this make any sense? She tapped her forehead with the flat of her hatchet. It felt cool against her overheated skin. She was thinking too much again.
But I have to think about this, don''t I? I have to figure it out.
No. I have to figure out where I am. I have to find the world of...
It clicked for her all of a sudden. The notifications for each person inside each pillar was Death. Slowly she lowered the hatchet and stared at the pillars again. Were these people''s deaths? Was this the world she was looking for?
Was Susan''s death here?
An impatient trembling spread down her spine. She wanted to set her entire body on fire and check every single pillar - but then what? She''d be hurting so many of them, and there could be billions, and what would she even do once she found Susan? She didn''t want to see Susan like that: split down the center with her insides hooked up to the pillar. How was she supposed to get Susan out?
What will I even say to her?
She wanted to scream with frustration. The singing had steadily grown louder and louder, and it was once again in a language Jenny didn''t know, but whoever they were, they might know what to do. If Jenny helped that person, maybe they could help her too. Maybe they knew what these pillars were. Maybe the person singing had gotten out of these pillars.
Picking up the pace, half wanting to use Instant Acceleration, Jenny ran toward the singing. She dodged and whirled around pillars as though they were enemies trying to attack her, and she focused intently on the song, so intently that she almost didn''t notice when the pillars gave away and she stumbled onto flat land. The singing stopped.
"Here," whispered the voice.
The pillar forest was behind her now, and ahead stretched the same empty flatness she''d seen before. To her right and left, more pillars burst out of the ground. She wiped the sweat off her brow and squinted, scanning the view for any sign of anything.
A red burst of lightning drew her attention to a patch of darkness on the horizon. That was when she saw it: an enormous T-shaped, shadowy thing jutting out of the ground in the distance. In the dark, it almost blended in with the flat emptiness and the sky, but when her eyes focused, she could see it.
It seemed so far away. How did the whispers and the singing reach her? She took a deep breath. Since the land was flat now, she could make it across quickly, but as soon as she was about to break into a sprint, the world rippled.
Everything shook, a tremor reverberated through the air, and Jenny felt a strange breeze as the flat ground and the storm clouds seemed to fold inward, almost like an accordion. The distance between Jenny and the shadowy shape closed, as though she was being tugged toward it, and that was when she realized what she¡¯d been looking at. It was a cross.
A cross with a naked man nailed to it, his arms spread wide, nails through his palms. Long dark hair fell forward to hide most of his bearded, brown face and cover his bony chest. His body looked sunken, as though someone had sucked out every bit of his insides. His knees were bent slightly, one foot placed over the other, a single nail driven through both. A crown of thorns glistened on his head; there was no mistaking who he was.
But that couldn¡¯t be Him, could he? There was no notification in her head, just an unsettling feeling of recognition. Besides, Eve had shown her a vision of Him already, so who was this? What was this cross doing here?
Jenny had seen so many crosses growing up; she''d seen statues and endless depictions of Jesus, and she''d always wondered what that must''ve been like. How it must have felt to have nails hammered through her hands and feet. To be left out on display in agony. She shuddered as she stared at the man, her hands shaking, unsure what to do.
"Greetings," whispered the man, his lips barely moving. He raised his head and smiled softly. Up close, his voice had more texture; he sounded so strained, so hurt. "You''re not supposed to be here," he said. Then he laughed, a gleeful, awful laugh that started small and muffled before bubbling into heavy laughter that became a coughing fit.
His shoulders and his chest shook violently, and Jenny winced, thinking about the nails ripping and tearing through his flesh. Red lightning crackled around his hands and feet before fading away.
"A desecrated human..." said the man slowly, still wheezing. "Level 30. Aren''t you something spectacular?"
Jenny bit her lip. Why can''t I see what he is? What does he want from me? Why does he feel so powerful even though he''s nailed up to a cross? Fire flicked down Jenny''s arm as she used Ignite and raised her hand to get a better look.
The man squinted. He was old. Very old. His brown skin was taut and ashy, stretched thinly over his skull, almost like the Tarnished Angels had been. He was just as fragile, just as delicate looking, like he hadn¡¯t eaten in ages and desperately needed medical attention. Jenny got the sense the man had been here for a long time.
"Let me see your eyes," said Jenny firmly. What are you?
"Do you think I''m like you?" The crown of thorns glistened across his forehead. His genitals were shriveled, like dehydrated fruit clinging to a dying branch. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Brown pupils stared back at Jenny, glistening shiny and bright in the fire''s flickering light. "Aren''t you just delicious? And you only respond to the language of light. Yet, you question my sanctity?"
Jenny''s eye twitched. She inhaled deeply. "What do you want from me? Who are you?"
"My name?" hissed the man, and Jenny realized he''d just been hissing and shushing this whole time. He''d sang in a different language but spoke with the same sounds as the angels. "My name was... I was called Yeshua. And I very much wish to die."
¡°Yeshua?¡± said Jenny, blinking. She¡¯d expected something very different.
¡°I want you to kill me. Please,¡± he said, tears streaming down his cheeks, getting caught in his dark beard. Then he started laughing, a small laugh that grew louder and louder until he was roaring at the sky. Lightning sizzled across his emaciated body. ¡°You finally sent someone! You finally sent someone to deliver me from this!¡±
66. Stand clear of the closing doors (Nancy)
The underbelly of New York City was filthy. Maybe that was why Nancy preferred praying in the subway. She''d tried the church, the library, and even near the crater where her children''s school once stood, but underground was the only place she felt safe enough to pray. It was the only place she felt God might hear her. Or maybe it wasn''t God she was reaching for; she didn''t know anymore.
The subways felt amniotic with its retched odor, the bustle of busy people, and the screech of metal every time a train roared in and out of the station. It was difficult to breathe too deeply, and the stench of piss or trash or rot clung to everything. Nancy clutched her purse, her jaws clenched, her eyes on the dirty tiled wall. A homeless man lay beside her on the bench, covered in a filthy brown blanket. Beneath him were piles of dirty clothes and shoes of all sizes and colors. She''d sat down and counted the curious stains on his brown blanket - twenty-four. Some she identified as food stains, and a good wash or two might get those out. Some of it was dried blood or smeared dirt. Other stains were things she''d rather not wonder about.
People kept shooting her concerned or curious looks as they walked by. She couldn''t blame them. After all, who would purposefully sit beside a vagabond whose stench surrounded the bench like a toxic cloud? Nancy would; she deserved it. She inhaled sharply through her nose, disgust crackling her lungs. Her stomach tried to compress and contract, to force her to expel this rancid odor. Throw up, said a voice in her head. Throw up, urged her body. Just get up and move somewhere else.
But where? Every inch of the station was filthy, and it wasn''t like this was the homeless man''s fault. Maybe he had debilitating medical issues. Maybe he''d been dealt a bad hand in life. Maybe he got cheated. Or maybe he was evil and he deserved this. Isn''t that what her parents had raised her to believe? What she''d tried to instill in her daughter? That the sinful were punished
And all Nancy had ever done was sin.
She buried her fingernails into her palm and squeezed her eyes shut as tears trailed down her cheeks. I lost my children. They''re gone. They''re gone. God took them from me. I''m a bad mother. I''m a terrible person. It should''ve been me! God, please. Take me. Take me! Bring them back. Please!
"Lady," grumbled the homeless man, lifting his blanket to squint at her with sleepy eyes. Her sniffles must''ve woken him up. He had terrible bags beneath his eyes, bags that matched Nancy''s. A scraggly beard crawled over his chin and his cheeks; he was bald beneath his wool hat. "What''s wrong, beautiful? You''re really good-looking. Do you have any food?"
Nancy reached into her purse, heart pounding. Her fingers closed around her pepper spray, but the man wasn''t trying anything. He wasn¡¯t being weird. He smiled almost apologetically, or maybe he was just grateful someone would sit next to him.
She returned a strained smile and pulled out a wad of cash. The man''s face lit up and he flashed a toothy grin and reached for it. But his hand came too close to her navy blue skirt, and Nancy stood abruptly before placing the handfuls of fives and tens on her seat and briskly walking away. She kept her eyes on the tiles beneath her sandals as the man praised her from behind.
She didn''t glance back, and instead waited by the yellow line at the edge of the platform. The yellow line meant danger, anyone standing on it risked getting hit by an oncoming train, risked falling into the tracks. A rat skittered across them, and she stared at its long pink tail before it vanished into a drainage pipe. A short while later, the station rumbled. A train screeched out of the dark tunnel and rushed in front of her, and a violent gush of wind lifted her hair and ruffled her skirt; windows and flashes of all the people inside went by, and Nancy grimaced. She must look like a mess.
With a shaking hand, she tried to smooth down her hair. How long had it been since she''d washed it? She hadn''t washed her face in a while too. No makeup. No moisturizer. Not even lip balm. She forced herself to smile as the train slowed to a stop and she caught sight of her distorted reflection in the doorway window. Three days. It''d been three days since that earthquake, since God took her children away, since she''d last eaten. Her stomach had no space for food; it was too filled with worry and disgust.
Once the doors slid open, she flowed inside with everyone else and grabbed a pole. A moment later, the announcer came on, "Stand clear of the closing doors." The doors shut, the train groaned back to life and pulled out of the station. Through one of the windows, she could see the homeless man counting the money she''d given him. He looked like he was about to cry with joy.
She studied the ads splayed across the train''s sides. There was something for breast surgery, something for trade schools, something for designer watches. There was a sign saying, if you see something, say something in bold white letters. New Yorker''s keep New Yorker''s safe.
Her lips twisted. She was aware of people moving away from her, not making eye contact with her. They got up from their seats to find another place to stand. They leaned against the door. They didn''t want to be near her. Nancy sniffed her armpit; she reeked. Maybe she''d sat too long on that bench. Or maybe it had been too long since she''d washed. She didn''t care; she got to sit down. A bench had cleared out in front of her.
Nancy sank into the seat and rested her head back as the train bumped and jostled. She looked at the other passengers as they side-eyed her.
They seemed nervous. On edge. The city was haunted; nobody knew what to do about the buildings that had vanished. So many people were gone, and almost everyone knew someone who''d disappeared. The news had run the list every single hour. The first night and for most of the second day, Nancy sat on the living room floor, reciting as many names as she could, hoping, praying, even as Henry tried to pull her away, to kiss her and give her food, she kept hoping Jenny''s and Oliver''s names wouldn''t appear.
Please, please, please, please.
Just before she''d left the apartment this morning, after telling Henry she didn''t want any breakfast, that she didn''t want anything but her children, she''d punched the television. The screen had cracked, and she''d stormed out, and now she sat on a train staring at the red patches of skin. Her knuckles were already bruising; she could barely open and close her fingers, but she forced herself to anyway. Just to feel the pain radiating into her wrist and climbing the veins right into her brain. Oh, it felt good. It felt really good, and she deserved so much worse.
Why was she on the train? She''d gotten out of the apartment; she had to. She couldn''t stand going up and down the stairs anymore, hoping to hear Jenny''s voice, her biting sarcasm, or Oliver popping his head out of his room to ask what was for dinner. Her husband Henry had become a shell as well. He wasn''t eating much, but he kept cooking. Kept making breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and setting the table for four. Except now he kept his handgun on the counter. "Just in case," he''d say.
"In case of what?" Nancy would ask.
He''d look at her with those sharp brooding eyes that had won her heart over and say, "I don''t know."
His ex-wife would call sometimes, Oliver''s biological mother. She''d screech on the phone about her precious boy, about how Henry was a failure, about how she would kill Henry for failing. She was a horrid woman; Nancy had always wondered about her. Jessica Spencer. She''d kept Henry''s last name, but it was all a strange mess, something Nancy was afraid to untangle.
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Henry had been adopted from Korea. He''d grown up in the Midwest, and he¡¯d tell Nancy about how he constantly felt like an outsider, constantly bullied for being different. He''d joined the navy to see the world and find his purpose, and Nancy hated all the things he¡¯d suffered through, all the racism and toxicity, and she''d tried her best to make his son, Oliver, who was her son now too, feel welcome and loved. His shock of red hair was from his mother, but his face and soft skin came from his dad. And his kindness, his sweetness, that was all Oliver''s. So, she didn''t care what features came from where; she just loved him as her own. But I couldn''t love Jenny like that.
I tried my best!
I should''ve done more; I could''ve.
More tears slipped down Nancy''s cheeks, and she licked them off her face. The train rattled through tunnels. Small lights flashed by the windows. At the next stop, more people piled in, took one look at the sobbing mess she''d become, and scrambled away from her. She didn''t care; the world was broken, falling apart. How was everyone else so normal? How could everyone pretend things were okay? Everything was crumbling, and all it had taken was a few buildings going missing.
She could''ve laughed. The news that day when she''d come home, her feet bleeding, her heart broken, the newscasters were going on about the stock market crashing.
Who gave a flying fuck about the economy? The world was ending!
She''d collapsed in Henry''s arms and all they could do was follow along as people and news outlets and social media twisted this in every way possible, as they tried to make sense of it: The reckoning. The end of times. Sinkholes. Rapture. Sin. It had to be aliens. It''s because of the gays. It''s because of the immigrants. It''s because of the monsters in power. Everyone found someone to blame, even Henry who blamed God, but Nancy blamed herself.
That first day, it felt like the world stood still. People held their breath, waiting for the sky to burst open. But by the second day, the trains and busses were running again with reroutes and delays. Coffee shops reopened. The business district filled with men in suits. Everyone was expected to go back to work; it was a bizarre nightmare that made no sense.
Riots broke out in the evenings. Marches and violent protests, but what were they for? What did they expect would happen? A curfew was instilled. Everyone was to be home before 9 pm. Anyone caught outside without permission would be arrested. But Nancy didn''t care about any of that.
"Oh, that''s right," she said out loud. She laughed and touched her injured hand to her forehead. "I''m going to their school."
Several people glanced at her. One asked if she was alright. Nancy smiled and shook her head. She was on the N train. A few stops more and she''d arrive at Jenny''s and Oliver''s high school, to the crater in the ground that had filled with muddy rainwater. She''d have to walk back later. She''d given all her money away and she hated using her credit cards at the kiosks. Maybe she''d call Henry. Or maybe he''d come looking for her again.
She tried to relax. She straightened her blouse and smoothed her skirt. She wasn''t sure why she was trying to make herself look nice for a hole in the ground but she ran her fingers through her hair and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve, and just as she was about to fish for deodorant in her purse, the train bounced violently, throwing Nancy forward onto the floor.
Everyone who''d been standing got slammed against the windows and the doors and each other. Several bumped their heads on the seats and collapsed. A roaring scream of people and metal whirled around her; the lights flickered; the ground shook so violently, rumbling and shaking, everything bounced as though the train was trying to vomit them all out. But Nancy recognized these tremors, recognized this chaotic rumbling of the world; it was the same earthquake that had taken her children away.
It was the same. Much stronger, and much more impactful, but it had to be the same. She wasn''t sure how she knew, but she felt it in her bones as someone''s boot struck her ribs and her knee banged against a pole. The train screeched to a halt, sparks flying and flashing by the windows, and then the earth stopped shaking.
After a long, quiet minute, one of the lights flickered, but most of the train was stuck in near darkness. Someone turned their phone''s flashlight on, and light glistened across the mess inside.
Everyone was a pile of limbs. Many were bleeding, and people kept asking one another if they were alright, helping the elderly stand and get to a seat, trying to assist the unconscious.
Static blared over the intercom, and the conductor''s voice crackled through. Nancy could barely understand him. It was a mess of white noise, but she caught a few words. ¡°Remain calm - don''t move between - inspection - wheels and rails - emergency services.¡±
Nancy felt herself all over. She''d hit one of the seats with the side of her face, and her cheekbone was sore to the touch. She was sure one of her ribs was broken, and she winced when she tried to extend her leg. But she grabbed the nearest pole and forced herself upright and groped around for her purse. A man was lying on top of it; he was out cold but still breathing. Shaking, Nancy yanked her purse free and then pulled out her phone.
Would she even have a signal this far underground? She typed in her PIN, and yes! She had a bar! They must be close to the next station. She could access the internet. Her heart pounding with adrenaline, the threat of several prayers on her tongue, Nancy flicked to the news as someone tried to wake the man beside her. She ignored them both as she scrolled through reports of the earthquake, tapped her phone hard enough to chip her nails. The connection kept dropping, but finally, a site loaded.
There, on the front page, was the headline she was looking for. A video tried to autoplay, but her signal was too weak. and it couldn¡¯t load. Fresh tears streamed down her face. A cry of happiness and hope broke free of her throat. She¡¯d been right. Breaking News: The missing buildings have returned!
Something wet and hot ran down the side of her head. She scratched it absentmindedly and her fingers came away with blood. It glistened in the tunnel lights. She was dizzy. Someone knelt in front of her, a face full of concern, mouthing something. Nancy just shook her head. It took her a few moments to understand; they were asking if she was okay.
"I have to call my children," she said in a choked voice. The person gave her a strained smile and moved on to check on someone else. Nancy shut her eyes. She couldn''t stop shaking.
The school was two more stops away. And the train seemed to be upright. Maybe they could get moving again. Or maybe she could run to the next station and get back to the surface. Slowly, she became aware of the other passengers helping one another up, crying, calling loved ones, calling for help. As she searched for Jenny''s name, her screen lit up with a call from Henry, and her heart lurched. For a moment, she thought it was Oliver''s face in the icon.
"Hello?" It was Henry''s voice, but the line dropped and she couldn''t hear what he''d said next.
The train announcer came back on as well, his voice crackling overhead. "Emergency services are en route to escort everyone out. Please remain where you are. Nobody should move between... between...." There was a burst of static. "What the fuck is that thing?"
Nancy blinked at the ceiling. Then she glanced at the other passengers who were staring up in confusion at the intercom as well. Another light flickered, and they heard more static. There was a shout and then a strange hissing sound, almost like a snake or a radiator, but it triggered every danger-sensing cell in her body.
It was followed by a thud. The intercom cut off abruptly, and the train fell silent. Nobody spoke a word or made a sound. Her phone crackled.
"Nancy? Nanc- are you-?"
"I''ll get off at the next stop," she whispered into the phone. She was trembling, but she told herself that was just cause she''d hit her head. "Emergency services are on the way."
"They''re not- pick- up, Na-" he said, breathing heavy. "The traffic''s so- run- -ning, and-" The line cut again, and when it came back, Nancy couldn''t understand what he was saying.
Before she could whisper frantically, a strange sensation, like a headache, moved through her head, from behind her left eye to just inside her ear, and a shudder went down her spine. Someone cried out. Words appeared in her head:
Rapture has commenced.
The Final Challenge is in effect.
The faithful shall be rewarded. May His light guide your way.
Humans remaining: 7,885,246,104
Her phone fell from her hand. Her breath caught in her throat.
Rapture... humans remaining? The final challenge? She could hear something faint, something echoing down the tunnels. Was it sirens? The wind? Was it the emergency services coming to help them?
She reached for her phone but her injured hand found her purse instead. She grabbed her pepper spray and remembered what Henry told her about his handgun. Just in case.
Then the door on the far side of the train car slammed open. Nancy flinched. People rushed into their car, scrambling over one another, the flashlights from their phones bouncing all over the place. Countless shadows flicked across the train, and as they rushed toward her, as she caught the glimpses of sheer terror on their faces, Nancy realized what she¡¯d been hearing. It wasn''t sirens or the wind. It was screaming. It was people screaming.
67. (NULL)
"I''m not going to do that," said Jenny, staring up at the crucified man, eyeing how his chest and ribs jutted out like a fucked-up pair of wings. The cross towered over Jenny, with Yeshua nailed to it several feet off the ground.
"What do you mean?" he asked, eyes wide. He swallowed hard and shook his head vigorously from side to side, straining against the nails, his long hair bouncing in every direction as his shriveled-up balls flapped against his bony thigh. "No no no no no! I prayed so much. So much. For Him to send someone...to come and... why? Why? Why won¡¯t you help me?¡±
Red bursts of lightning shivered up and down his body, as though he was statically charged, but Jenny recognized what was happening. She could almost taste it in the air: Yeshua was in a constant state of agony and healing. His flesh was always trying to heal around the nails, always trying to close those holes.
Yeshua started crying and pleading. Or at least Jenny thought that''s what the man was doing because he switched from hissing and shushing to sputtering in a language Jenny couldn''t understand.
"Wait," started Jenny, hoping to find some answers. Hoping the man would calm down and stop hurting himself. "Can you tell me where are? What are you doing here? I''m looking for my-"
But Yeshua wasn''t willing to listen. His eyes bulged, bloodshot and crazed, and he spat at Jenny. "I want to die. I want to die. Please just let me die. Why else would He send you?" He screamed and struggled against his restraints, ripping open wounds that healed almost instantly with bursts of red light. He bared his teeth and hissed, appearing completely feral, almost as mindless as the Tarnished Angels. Spittle clung to his beard as he snarled at her. Yeshua wouldn''t listen no matter what Jenny tried to say.
She offered the man water and food, clothes. "I can make you whatever you need," said Jenny trying to sound calming, trying to sound reassuring. "Let me get you down from there and then we can talk."
"Just slit my throat. Please. Haven''t I done enough? Just do it. I don''t want to be here anymore."
It broke Jenny''s heart, the sheer desperation in Yeshua''s voice, the constant wriggling, the fidgeting, as though he were tossing and turning in bed, desperate to wake up from a nightmare. But this was infinitely worse. He¡¯d been crucified. "I don''t want to kill you," said Jenny. "I thought your singing was beautiful. Please let me help you."
Yeshua let out a pitiful cry, raising his face up to the clouds as a sob broke into a deafening cry of anguish. It echoed all around the flat salty lands. Then he slumped forward so that his brown hair covered his face and chest, and went still.
Jenny held her breath, expecting Yeshua to have another outburst, but the man seemed to have fallen asleep. Exhaling loudly, exhaustion tugging on the edges of her thoughts, she figured it would be a good idea to get some rest as well. It didn''t seem like any other creatures were alive in this world. Besides, what was the worst that would happen? She''d get killed in her sleep? At least that way, she''d find the world of the dead right away.
That''s silly, she thought with a grimace, but Yeshua''s screaming words kept echoing through Jenny''s mind: I want to die. I want to die. Please just let me die.
Her head ached with questions, with fears and thoughts. Where was this place? What was Yeshua doing here? And why did he think Jenny was sent here to end his misery? For a moment, Jenny considered getting the man down while he slept. Maybe I can pry the nails out; maybe he won¡¯t be as frantic once he¡¯s free. But exhaustion made Jenny reconsider.
He needs serious help, and he wants to die. I can''t help him like this.
And what if he¡¯s dangerous?
What if there¡¯s a reason he¡¯s contained here?
Her head spun with gruesome images: the angels, Miriam, Susan, Oliver, everyone. She waited a while to make sure the man was actually passed out. It might''ve been a dozen minutes or so, but then Jenny sat down and raised her hand to make a bottle of water. But that Energy... she''d gotten so much of it from Susan, from Miriam. Is it right to use that? She''d already used some to make her blue armor but... She''d done that almost instinctively whilst in the light. She didn''t want to go somewhere else naked and her first thought had been the color of Susan''s hair. But was it alright to use the Energy now?
Of course it is. You have to survive. You have to find her.
I don''t know if... she stifled a sob and slammed her hand against the course ground. It was like sitting on the beach, except the air burned slightly and everything tasted like salt. There was no breeze. She stared at Yeshua''s body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and wondered how he''d folded the distance between them. It almost reminded Jenny of her Instant Acceleration, but this seemed to warp everything around her and...
"Are you there?" whispered Yeshua in angel-tongue.
Jenny nodded awake. She must''ve fallen asleep, her chin resting on her hands, her hatchet flat in front of her. She cleared her throat. "Yeah?"
Yeshua''s eyes remained shut, his head raised. "Oh Lord, deliver me from evil. Guide me. Preserve me for I take refuge in you..."
Brushing the salt from her armor, noting how it seemed to drain color from the blue scales, Jenny stood and approached Yeshua again, cautiously. How long was I asleep? She felt somewhat rested, but now her stomach rumbled with hunger. A rumble that went straight to her throat; she didn''t want to throw up again.
Red lightning flashed around Yeshua''s palms and feet. His gaunt face relaxed as though she were asleep, but his thin lips moved. He was singing again. This one sounded like a hymn, and Jenny was about to sit back down and try resting some more, but his eyes flung open.
"Which one are you?" he hissed menacingly. "An angel? What do you want from me? I have nothing. Nothing! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"
"I''m not..." started Jenny, blinking at the sudden enraged outburst. "I don''t want anything. I''m human, remember? A Desecrated... Human."
"A what?" spat Yeshua before unleashing a tirade of words in another language. These sounded vicious and ugly, as though he was cursing Jenny up and down. Then he fell quiet again. His body shook; he was crying, sputtering, "Please, my lord. Please, deliver me from this. Please just.... they''re coming. They''re coming. Just kill me. I can¡¯t do it again, please...¡±
"Who''s coming?" whispered Jenny, glancing around. It was nothing but flat ground as far as she could see. In the distance, she could barely make out the pillar forest, and the sky overhead rolled with the same storm clouds. Was it just her imagination or had everything become darker than before?
"My children," said Yeshua, his eyes glazed over. He looked right through Jenny, staring at the ground, eyes darting from side to side, as though he was searching for something, some possible way out of this. "I died for their sins," he said. "I died for their sins. This is my body, given to my children...I died for your sins. I died for your sins. I died for your sins." He repeated it again and again, over and over, his voice rising in pitch, in franticness, until it was a shrill screech. Red lightning snapped and popped, this time around his throat too, and he slumped forward again, breathing heavily.
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He died for our sins? Jenny started forward to soothe the man somehow. Maybe I can take the thorns off his head. Or maybe I should just make a water bottle and force him to drink. Can I get those nails out? But Yeshua''s head snapped right to Jenny. His brown eyes piercing and bright, and Jenny froze, shocked by the abrupt motion.
"Don''t move," hissed Yeshua slowly, emphasizing each word. "Don''t make a sound. Don''t move a muscle. Don''t even blink. Let them come. My children always come. But I do this for you. For you. For them. So don''t move. Don¡¯t even breathe. Don''t do anything. It will be over soon. My Lord will protect me."
Something sickly warm, like a stranger''s breath, crawled across the back of Jenny''s neck. She whirled around, ready to face whatever had Yeshua terrified and out of his mind, but there was nothing there. Just the salty, dark flatness of this world. Was she imagining things? She rubbed her neck and wondered if she should just get Yeshua down and figure out the rest later. But when she turned to face the cross again, she saw the ground around it shifting and bubbling, coming alive.
Round white shapes surfaced from the salt, wriggling and gelatinous, in the same way the exoskeletons of the angels had been before hardening. Thin limbs stretched out from the shapes, like a creature unfurling, and then there was its head. It expanded like a balloon until the creature resembled a bald, genderless human. Except they were all white, ghostly white, with no discernible features other than five-fingered hands and five-toed feet.
Ghoul (NULL)
Null? Each one was roughly the size of a small adult, each one the color of exposed bone. Their bodies jiggled and wiggled, and countless more Ghouls surfaced from the ground like bubbles rising to the top of a glass of water. They stretched their limbs and shook their heads. A few brushed up against Jenny''s legs and sides as they stood, just a few inches taller than her, and a cold, ugly sensation traveled up her spine. She didn''t move, remembering how intently Yeshua had asked her not to. But she was surrounded. She felt like she was in a crowded train, holding her breath, the underground closing in.
The creatures'' eyes opened. Jenny expected them to be like the angels, white and empty, but these weren''t just blank. They were hollow. It was like staring into holes in the ground. Smoke or vapor, she couldn''t tell which, swirled inside the sockets. They had two narrow slits for noses, and then the ghouls opened their mouths and spoke.
They spoke in shrill, high-pitched voices, in languages Jenny recognized: Spanish, Cantonese, French, and even English. These were human languages, and even though she didn¡¯t know them, she recognized what they were doing: the ghouls were crying for their fathers.
"Ot¨san!" one of them screamed.
" ¨¦g er hr?dd," said another.
"Dios m¨ªo, cond¨²ceme a tu luz."
Every single ghoul turned their round white heads toward the cross, and as they spoke, Jenny noted their mouths were too big for their faces. Drool, glistening, spilling down their chins. And the flurry of languages swirled around her.
¡°Father! Father save us!¡±
¡°Bab¨¡, ¨¡m¨¡k¨¥ b¨¡m?c¨¡''¨!¡±
¡°Ich habe zu viel Angst, Papa!¡±
The words grated the inside of Jenny¡¯s head; she wanted to cover her ears, but she didn¡¯t want to move. She almost couldn¡¯t move, because Yeshua was laughing.
He was roaring with laughter, his head thrown back, his shoulders shaking, drawing the attention of all the ghouls. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes as his laughter died down. He shook her head and whispered, "Don''t move, desecrated human. Don''t move at all. Or they will come for you too.¡±
The ghouls, some of them shrieking in high-pitched voices, some of them muttering, all of them begging for their father, moved in unison, rushing toward Yeshua like a nightmarish stampede of mannequins. Their round heads bobbed up and down, they looked so much like cartoon creatures, that Jenny didn''t know what to even expect until they reached the cross and began to climb. One latched onto Yeshua''s feet, stretching up to grab onto his ankles as it sucked his toes into its oversized mouth.
With a series of ugly pops and cracks, blood sprayed all over the other ghouls, staining their pristine bodies. The first Ghoul tore off his toes, and Jenny almost cried out. But it was the look on Yeshua''s face that kept her frozen; the grimace, the sadness, the way his lips were pressed so tight, his eyebrows squeezed together. He was used to this. The only indication of pain was the way his thin body stiffened against the cross. I died for your sins.
The blood sent the others into an even more crazed frenzy, and Jenny knew exactly why. She could smell it, could taste it in the air. his blood was delicious. The metallic tang, that sweet promise of warmth, the taste of fresh blood in the air.
Another ghoul climbed onto Yeshua''s thigh where it bit into his brown flesh and tore away a chunk, revealing glistening bone. This time, Yeshua howled in pain, and the ghouls howled in solidarity around him as they continued. More and more climbed up his legs and found new places to bite. Some nuzzled against him, as though seeking warmth, as though seeking nurture, but then their teeth found his skin. They bit into his sides, his ribs, his shoulders. Some climbed onto the top of the cross and chewed on his fingers. Some clung to his elbow and ripped into his armpit.
Some made it to his face, where they cut their hands on the crown of thorns and cried as he cried.
¡°Father, I need you.¡±
"Je t''aime!¡±
"Anqithna min hatha al-makan al-raheeb."
Red lightning sputtered and sizzled each time, sometimes muffled by the wriggling bodies of the ghouls, but it was always present. It repaired Yeshua''s body, so that after every bite, there was always a new place to bite down on, new skin to tear off, new flesh to rip away.
The first ghoul let out a shrill cry. Blood ran down its white chin, and its round head seemed to have swollen. The smoke in its eyes stopped swirling, and, with a heavy sigh, it fell away from Yeshua''s body, bounced off several ghouls, and lay trembling on the ground.
As Jenny stared, the ghoul melted into a puddle of white and pink liquid that the other ghouls mindlessly splashed through. More ghouls joined the first one, splattering on the ground, and slowly the liquid seeped into the salt and disappeared. It was like the Ghouls were returning to the dirt.
Did they die once they got their fill? Jenny stared at the entire ocean of Ghouls that now covered the flat land; they came from every direction, like some brutal pilgrimage. How long was this supposed to go on? How long would Yeshua scream and suffer? And hadn¡¯t he called them his children?
Jenny held her breath when she could, trying not to inhale too deeply, the scent of blood almost intoxicating, but she listened as Yeshua cried. As Yeshua screamed. As Yeshua sang until a Ghoul bit through his bottom lip and chewed off his beard. Lightning flickered and flashed so often; Jenny felt like she was staring into the heart of a demonic thunderstorm.
What do I do?
Why am I hesitating? I need to help him. But how?
Why did he ask me not to move? Were the Ghouls that dangerous?
The lightning. The healing ability... Jenny swallowed hard. Something was clicking into place, and maybe it was part of the answer as to why Yeshua was here, nailed to a cross. The World of Death. The man on the cross. The Ghouls feasting on him... Yeshua had to be important, had to be powerful, had to be. How else could he heal like this? Jenny inhaled deeply, loudly, expanding her chest and making herself feel bigger.
A ripple moved through the crowd of ghouls. Their white forms paused in unison. Yeshua looked up, blood streaming from his torn cheeks and exposed teeth, and shook his head. He must¡¯ve tried to talk; Jenny could see the man¡¯s vocal cords glistening and moving.
She raised her hatchet slowly and cocked back her arm. The Ghouls responded in unison, all of them falling quiet, their round heads turning to face Jenny, to stare at her with those smoky eyes. The entire world was suddenly silent, and the mass of Ghouls stood still. She exhaled slowly through pursed lips, eyeing the ones nearest to her. They were slumped forward, arms swinging, but they weren¡¯t attacking. Maybe they were confused.
¡°I told you to kill me,¡± hissed Yeshua weakly as light cracked up his neck and his mouth healed. ¡°Don¡¯t pity me now. This is my purpose.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll do you one better,¡± said Jenny, sliding one foot back till it bumped against a Ghoul. She grimaced, but when it didn¡¯t react, she figured it was now or never. She took aim, stomped forward, and launched her hatchet as hard as she could. Savage Throw!
With a satisfying clunk, the edge cut through the Ghoul holding onto Yeshua''s arm and sank into the wooden beam of the cross, completely severing his wrist from the rest of him. Blood sprayed horribly from the wound, but Jenny had freed that arm.
Just as the Ghouls started screaming, an enormous bolt of red lightning, far stronger and brighter than any of the lightning before, sparked out of the bloody stump. Jenny caught a glimpse of his widening eyes, his blood and spittle-soaked beard, and then all the Ghouls leaped into the air. Summoning her hatchet back, she threw herself into the fray, praying desperately she made the right decision by freeing that man.
68. I have redeemed you
Like water balloons, the Ghouls burst into liquid as soon as Jenny struck. With either her hatchet or her fist, it didn¡¯t matter which. She just had to hit them hard enough. But the hatchet¡¯s edge cut through them swiftly, so she swung it repeatedly at each creature that rushed her with their arms outstretched, mouths open in wide grins.
The Ghouls had little resistance; it was like their entire body was an empty shell, a white casing that splattered as soon as it was compromised. It didn¡¯t matter where she struck them. Their arms, their sides, or their head, as soon as anything cracked, their entire bodies turned to liquid and splattered. Jenny didn¡¯t know what to make of that, so she did the only thing she could do: relentlessly attack.
Kill. Kill. Kill.
She moved quickly, darting backward and forward, sidestepping the ones trying to grab her. They were slower and clumsier than Wretched Angels, but they had her completely outnumbered. Fortunately, the Ghouls kept tripping over themselves in their mad scramble. Their legs tangled. They grabbed one another by mistake. Or two dove for her at the same time, and their head clunked together like two coconuts, and Jenny would finish them off with a rapid strike.
Many kept losing their footing, falling face down on the ground while the other Ghouls trampled them. Jenny stomped hard on their heads, splashing from body to body in her efforts to dodge. The only thing she had to watch out for was their hands. They had virtually no defenses, but their blows cracked her armor, and the impacts hurt. But the worst was their grip. It was vice-like, impossible to slip out of.
A Ghoul caught her arm and forced her to the ground by throwing its weight at her. Fingers dug into her armor, and Jenny nearly dislocated her shoulder trying to break free. Another Ghoul slammed into her chest and clawed at her face, but she punched it square in the chin, cracking it open so that the Ghoul burst right on top of her. Its remains, that thick white liquid, tasted almost like salty milk.
Trying not to swallow, trying not to gag, Jenny let go of her hatchet, caught it with her other hand, and chopped off the hand threatening to break her arm. Without skipping a beat, she buried the hatchet in the next Ghoul''s head. Its smoky eyes went wide, its grin faltered, and the creature exploded into white droplets. Before another could jump her, Jenny rolled away and got to her feet, huffing for breath, already sweating way too hard. She wiped the milky substance off her face and spat.
A Reinforced Helmet will cost 400 Energy. Sufficient Energy.
Susan would approve, thought Jenny as golden light swirled around her head. The light made the Ghouls pause, and they blinked in confusion, gasping and making sounds of amazement, like children at a fireworks show.
A blue helmet materialized on Jenny''s head, metal curving forward to protect her face. It covered her hair. There was a horizontal slit in the front to see through, but before the light faded away, the Ghouls snapped out of their daze and rushed her again.
She glanced at Yeshua who was still on the cross ogling his new hand, that arm no longer stuck to the wood. He turned it every which way, inspecting his palm and his knuckles. He licked his forearm. All the while, he kept laughing and crying, even as the Ghouls ripped away chunks of his legs and bit into his stomach. One even clung to his chest and suckled on his shoulder. His old hand remained nailed to the cross, blood dripping from where the hatchet had severed it, and several Ghouls waited below, mouths open expectantly.
Now if only he''d do something. The Ghouls kept coming, kept swarming, and she lost sight of the cross in the gaggle of salivating white bodies. With a shout, she used Savage Throw again, launching her hatchet into the crowd.
Pop, pop, pop! A row of them burst into liquid, raining down all over her and the others as Jenny kicked and punched the Ghouls closest to her. She struck one in the stomach and another in the eye, but one managed to grab her arm again, nearly snapping her elbow. She grimaced and summoned her hatchet back and sliced the Ghoul''s head open with a flick of her wrist. It burst into liquid, and Jenny spun away.
They were easy to kill, but they gave her no Energy, no experience, not even a notification. Her hatchet didn''t flash with light to indicate any pain; she wondered if their being Null was the reason. Maybe that was why they didn''t have a level or anything. But then why were they so strong? They could rip her limb from limb if she gave them the chance.
Fingernails chipped off scales. Punches and smacks left cracks and dents, impacts that rattled her bones. One Ghoul even managed to peel away a chunk of armor, exposing her back. She buried her hatchet in the creature¡¯s chest and rushed out of reach, gasping for breath. She was sweating profusely now; her head pounded with exhaustion. Whatever nap she''d taken before hadn''t done anything, and she cursed herself for not assigning her stat points sooner. Having a boost in Stamina or Durability would''ve been perfect right now. Maybe she could make a potion.
Fuck it, I need space. Jenny inhaled deeply and roared, Ignite!
Flames streamed from her throat and out of her armor as she turned herself into a walking bonfire. The Ghouls raised their arms to shield their faces from the sudden brightness and heat, and they all stumbled back, clumsily bumping into the ones still trying to come after her. Their mad rush cleared enough space for Jenny to-
Beneath her, on the ground around her, she saw the salty surface bubbling. Puddles of gelatinous white liquid glistened in the orange and red glow of her fire. It was all the Ghouls she''d cut down. All their liquid was still on the ground, bubbling and merging back together, taking shape again, much more quickly this time. Hands reached out from below to grab her, and she hopped back to stay out of reach.
Jenny shut her mouth in frustration, extinguishing her flames and the light. She thought she''d been killing them, but they''d just been reforming this entire time. Then she had a sickening thought: Was feeding them the only way to stop them? The ones that turned pinkish-red after feasting on Yeshua''s body had drained into the ground. The white ones seemed to get stuck on the surface.
I need to get out of the crowd; maybe if I run as fast as I can... Jenny dashed forward with Instant Acceleration, bursting through another row of Ghouls, her hatchet extended to catch as many as she could. Their hands kept reaching for her, kept trying to grab her, no matter how many elbows and throats she cut through. She needed to breathe. She needed to get away from the milky stench, the air was suffocating. She needed space.
She paused for a second to catch her breath, dropped down to dodge a swinging arm, and slashed one of the creatures in the stomach. There were still too many Ghouls. She couldn¡¯t even see the edge of the crowd. With a cry of frustration, she used Instant Acceleration again, but she tripped.
There was a sudden jolt, a horrible crack, and she was flung forward onto her face and arms. She bounced off the ground before crashing forcefully into a pile of Ghouls, kicking up clouds of sat.
Some burst upon impact. Others, she knocked down, their teeth gnashing, their arms scrambling, but there were so many of them, that they grabbed onto one another, grabbed onto her, and it was a suffocating, screaming mess of limbs.
She had to blink away tears. Salt had gotten through the slit in her helmet, which had come askew, but it was like all the strength had left her body. Pain surged up her left leg. Grunting, she elbowed one of the Ghouls in the teeth and glanced back, trying to see what was wrong.
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She''d left her foot several paces behind her.
Blood squirted out of the stump of her knee, and she cried out. The sight of it was somehow so much worse than the pain, and Ghouls were already pouncing on her foot, pouncing on the splattering of blood she''d left in her wake, and pouncing on her.
She summoned her hatchet back, but powerful hands clamped down on her arm. Several Ghouls pinned down her legs, teeth sank into the exposed flesh of her leg, and some of their white heads turned pink. They sighed in relief as a scream tore through Jenny''s throat, lighting her entire body on fire again. Ignite!
Flames blossomed from the wound, and tears ran down her cheeks as her blood sizzled. But the sudden light had shocked the Ghouls off her. The ones that had gotten bites were already melting into the ground.
Jenny sat up, breathing hard, staring at the flickering fire rising from the stump of her leg and trying very hard not to think about how she was running out of fuel. I''m going to pass out.
But I can''t. Not like this.
They''ll rip me to pieces.
Pain shot right up to Jenny''s throat, closing around her windpipe like the hand of a Ghoul. Exhaustion pinched the corners of her vision. She just wanted to sleep. I just want to rest. Just for a little bit. But even though her fire kept them at bay, she could see the ground bubbling around her, could see the Ghouls trying to reemerge from the salty ground. Even the puddle she''d splashed into was starting to move beneath her.
A hand reached up and coiled around her thigh. A head rose right beside her. Jenny jammed her burning fingers into its eye sockets and pulled up her stats quickly, preparing to pour all her available points into Stamina. Another Ghoul dove on top of her burning leg, as though trying to snuff out the flame, and shoved its face into her stump. Teeth made contact with her torn muscle, but before Jenny could react, a furious drum roll of thunder shattered the entire world.
It sounded like the sky was coming apart. As soon as it settled down, ringing in Jenny¡¯s ears, the Ghouls stopped what they were doing and stared up at the sky.
Lightning struck. An enormous red bolt zipped straight down from the storm clouds, crackling and splitting into several trails before crashing right onto the cross with another thunderous roar.
The impact was like a bomb going off; a violent gust blew the Ghouls away, many of them crying out as they burst into vapor. The winds blew out her flames, rattled her helmet, and threatened to blow her away too. In the center of the red glow, as more and more bolts of lightning rained down onto the cross, she could see Yeshua.
All the Ghouls on him and around him had completely vaporized. He was tugging on his other arm, trying to rip it free even as the lightning healed his palm around the nail. He jerked with his entire body, ribs and shoulder bones threatening to burst out of his skin, until finally, with a cry of anguish, his face red, spittle flying from his mouth, the nail tore through the gap between his fingers, and he yanked his arm off the cross with a spray of blood.
Shouting with triumph, he held up his freed hands, blood streaming down his arm as the lightning worked its magic around his fingers and his palm. Then, panting for air, he knelt forward so suddenly, Jenny thought he''d passed out. But he clung to the cross with one arm and reached down with the other to yank out the nail holding his feet in place.
But his fingers must''ve slipped or something, or maybe his strength had given out, because Yeshua collapsed forward while his feet remained stuck to the cross. His face hit the ground, legs outstretched, his flat ass in full view as lightning rained down on him.
Jenny adjusted her helmet and tried to get up. Clearly, she had to help him. He was powerful, he had to be. That lightning was insane. But she needed to help him up. To get his feet free. Then maybe he could fight and put these creatures down permanently.
But she could barely move.The Ghouls were reforming around her and scrambling back now that the wind had died down. She had to be quicker.
Gritting her teeth, groaning from the pain, she grabbed her injured leg and squeezed it as hard as she could. Golden light shimmered out of her hands. Blood gushed between her fingers as she used Susan¡¯s ability, but something was stuck. Her mind lurched away from Valescent Light, and the ground seemed to spin. Rainbow light crackled across her wound, but she didn''t have enough stamina for something like this; she was losing too much blood. Her head felt too heavy for her shoulders.
A white hand grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. The scales of her armor cracked as that Ghoul yanked her to the ground. Another grabbed her helmet, and she struggled to get out of their grips, but it was no use. She risked breaking her neck. Breaking her arm. But they were going to eat her alive.
Then a shout echoed, and the Ghouls stopped trying to peel off her armor. The winds stopped blowing, and everything went still. It felt like even the sky was holding its breath.
One by one, the Ghouls let go of Jenny and straightened up in silence. They stood around her, ignoring her, staring at a source of golden light that seemed nearly as bright as the sun. And Jenny felt it too. Deep inside, an immense sense of holiness. A gravity she¡¯d felt a few times before, crying in prayer, begging God to help her. A solemn stillness, a reminder that she wasn¡¯t alone.
Her bones aching, Jenny dug her elbows into the ground and lifted her head, trying to see between the Ghoul''s legs, trying to find the source of this feeling. It was Yeshua.
He stood in front of the cross shining so brightly, he was like a beacon in a storm. His long brown hair and beard billowed as another, gentler breeze stirred, and he spread his arms wide. Behind him, nailed to the cross were what was left of his torn feet, blood dripping from the mangled flesh and bone.
"Behold!" he shouted. Lightning raced up and down his emaciated body; he looked so much like a Tarnished Angel. He bared himself completely, shriveled and bony, his face sunken in. A purple robe materialized around him, and he inhaled deeply before bellowing, "I... AM... FREE!"
Another burst of wind blew through the world, and another giant bolt of lightning flicked down from the sky and erupted around him, into him. The Ghouls stumbled forward, arms swinging, all of them muttering. Smoke swirled in their eyes as they bumped into one another, but they seemed hypnotized. Completely taken. Like a crowd of people consumed by worship.
"Father," whispered a ghoul behind her. Its foot struck her elbow, but the creature didn''t seem to notice. They marched right by Jenny, their voices growing louder and louder, filling with desperation and need:
"Tunapenda wewe, Baba!¡±
"Ham ¨¡pk¨ py¨¡r karte hain! "
"Ji¨´ w¨¯men tu¨l¨ª xi¨ng''¨¨!"
"Come to me!" called Yeshua, his booming voice echoing all around. Golden light shone even more brightly from his body. Red sparks crackled, curving and twisting around him.
He stood nearly as tall as the cross. He raised his skinny arms, the sleeves of his robe falling away, to grasp the crown of thorns. He raised his chin, chest expanding with a deep breath, before lifting the crown off his head. Another bolt of lightning shivered across his forehead, healing the patchwork of wounds.
"Come to me," he repeated, in a gentle voice that Jenny felt rumbling deep inside her chest. She felt a pull on her heart, and if it wasn''t for the agony of losing her left foot, she would''ve gotten right up and marched toward him. But why? Something about his voice, something grand and immense and powerful...
Human (stage v) (NULL)
What? She squinted at him, trying to make sense of the notification in her head. What was he? How was he stage v? What level did he need to reach... why is he NULL like the Ghouls?
"I am reborn," said Yeshua, raising his voice again. "Come to me, my children. Find salvation in my arms, for I am nearer to you than your soul." He was grinning, a wide toothy grin, his beard, his hair, his purple robe flowing in the wind.
¡°Hallowed be thy name...¡±
¡°Elth¨¦to ¨¥ basile¨ªa sou...¡±
¡°Metool ddeelokhee malkootho...¡±
Despite her exhaustion, despite the agony, Jenny sat up, staring, her heart pounding. She couldn¡¯t believe what she was seeing. Could he really be who she thought he was?
No. He couldn¡¯t be.
He can¡¯t!
She¡¯d fought against her mother¡¯s faith for so many years, rebelled against the stories, the lectures, the nonsensical rules that always seemed to put down girls in favor of men... but here he was, glowing with golden light. He¡¯d been crucified, and yet there he stood, alive and powerful, and Jenny had set him free. He even looked like Him too. There was a firm, powerful kindness about him, an aura she couldn¡¯t explain, and Jenny found herself completely baffled. Should she be praying too? Was everything her mother tried beating into her true? Was that man really...?
Once one of the Ghouls got close enough, the rest surging forward, each of them trying to be the first, their arms outstretched as if coming in for a hug, Yeshua lunged. He grasped one by the sides, fingernails digging into its white flesh. He scooped it into the air.
¡°I have redeemed you,¡± said Yeshua with an enormous grin as the Ghoul kicked and struggled midair, squealing as it failed to escape his grip. Lightning sparked around his hands, around the creature, and his golden light seemed to envelop everything. The other ghouls stood frozen, all of them silent and staring, and Jenny held her breath.
Yeshua pressed his lips to the Ghoul¡¯s face, and Jenny heard a wet, sucking sound she¡¯d never wanted to hear ever again.
SHLURP.
69. Pepper spray (Nancy)
Nancy didn''t know if she should scream too, if she even could. The train car, mostly dark but with flashes of light from people¡¯s phones, had erupted into chaos. It was almost like another earthquake. She stood in the midst of the stampede, as elbows and shoulders knocked into her, as someone screamed into her face to run, surrounded by the thunderous roar of footsteps. As though the fear was infectious, people left the injured behind and followed the panicked crowd through the exit behind Nancy. That door led into the next train car where she imagined the panic would swallow up everyone in there as well. How many cars till they reach the very last one? Where would they go? What were they running from?
Was it a fire? It couldn¡¯t be a fire, she reasoned. If it was a fire, then there''d be more light in the dark tunnel. Everything seemed dark outside the cracked windows. Why had the conductor screamed?
She held onto the pole with both hands, standing as still as possible as the stream of people raged past her. Eyes wide with confusion and terror, sweat glistening in the bouncing phone lights. Most of them were adults, some were teens with their headphones around their throats and oversized bookbags. There were even children, crying as their parents held them close or tugged them along by the hand. Nancy got shoved and tussled, but she held as firmly as she could. Nobody glanced at her twice. This was worse than the crowded subway stations on busy summer morning commutes, people in a rush to pack themselves into a train, desperate to get to work on time.
Sweat drenched her back. Her blouse was torn from the earthquake, and blood ran down the side of her face. She wiped it with the back of her busted hand. Should I run too? Her lips trembled; Jenny and Oliver were ahead. Their school was two stops ahead; why would she turn back and run now?
Besides, where were all these people going? Once they scrambled out of the last car, they''d be stuck in the dark, disgusting tunnel between stations, and it was a long way back to the previous stop. If help was going to come, it would come from ahead.
She wasn''t the only one waiting. There was a kid, a dark-skinned boy in a bright orange jacket who was clutching the handrails of a bench tightly. An elderly woman lay on the floor beside him, her head beneath the seat, unconscious, blood pooling from her mouth.
There were others sprawled across the train car floor, some of them groaning, most of them quiet. She wondered how many had been injured during the earthquake and how many were trampled in the mad rush. Screams still echoed all around, drifting up and down the tunnel outside, and a stale breeze blew through the shattered windows. Nancy hobbled toward the boy. He¡¯d started prodding the woman; she must¡¯ve been his grandmother.
Nancy¡¯s legs nearly buckled as she moved from pole to pole, eyeing some of the unmoving bodies, stepping over one or two, until she could lean against the door beside the old woman. Words filled her thoughts like a notification when she looked at the boy.
Human (level 1)
But there wasn''t anything like that for the woman, and her head hurt too much to figure out what it meant. There was just enough light to see them both. Someone''s phone had been left behind on the other side of the bench, its flashlight still on. Nancy knelt, half collapsing on her knees, to press her fingers to the woman''s throat. There was no pulse. "I''m sorry," she whispered, looking up at the boy''s wide eyes. He might''ve been three or four, she wasn''t sure. His orange jacket was zipped halfway up, and the colorful t-shirt underneath depicted some superhero blasting a beam of light. Oliver would recognize the character; she had no idea.
"Nana?" the boy asked, his busted lip moving slowly.
She didn''t know what to say; she was all burnt out on empathy, but when the boy pointed at the woman again and said something that sounded like "hospital," Nancy nodded and said, "Yes, hospital. People are on the way. They''ll help us."
"It''s going to be okay," said the boy, eyes quivering with tears. He rubbed his lips, smearing blood across his face. ¡°My dad is hospital.¡±
"It''s going to be okay," repeated Nancy. Did the boy¡¯s dad work at the hospital? Was he a doctor? Or was he a patient and they¡¯d been on the way to visit? Her heart broke imagining that, and she reached out to wipe the boy¡¯s chin but then noticed her own blood smeared all over her hands and thought better of it.
On the opposite bench across the aisle, underneath a wide window that had remained intact, lay a man about Nancy''s age. He was on his side, clutching his ribs and glaring at her . He had unruly long brown hair and a mean look, and he puffed out his sweaty cheeks with every shaky breath. His black shirt was torn, revealing a round hairy stomach. "This is all our fault," he wheezed. "All this nonsense with phones and money."
Human (level 1)
Nancy didn¡¯t know how to respond to that. "It¡¯s nobody¡¯s fault," she said. ¡°Help is on the way.¡±
The man closed his eyes and coughed, his entire body jiggling. "Immigrants," he said. "Always asking for help. You know? Those other folks who dress wrong. Them queers. Illegals. Dirty people. God is angry with us. He is punishing us."
Okay, there''s no point talking to this man. Nancy pressed her lips tight and leaned back against the door. The boy still clung to the chair, he was holding his grandmother''s hand, and he kept looking at Nancy like she might stabilize him somehow, might save him from this. The echoing screams grew quiet after a while, and Nancy wondered if that entire crowd had gotten away. And if there was a fire, what would she do? She''d pick up the boy and run too. "Help me," she whispered, blinking away tears, trying to ignore the pain, trying to pray. Help me.
Unless this was God taking her away. She¡¯d asked for this. She''d gotten her children back after all. Wasn''t that the bargain she''d made?
Not till I can see them, she thought furiously. Not till I can hold them. Only then can you take me.
She knew she was being greedy, but she had to be sure. Were they safe? Were they alright? As if in response to her prayer, a shrill scream sounded way too close for comfort, raising the hairs on her back. This one didn¡¯t sound human. It almost sounded animal, like something enormous and hungry. One of the phone lights flickered out, casting the far side of the train car into darkness. Even the bigoted man went quiet, and the little boy cried out and rushed into Nancy''s arms. Her ribs cracked and popped, and she grimaced, but she held him tight, one hand on his curly hair.
¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± she asked, trying to keep the boy calm. ¡°My name is Mrs. Huang.¡± It was a trick she¡¯d learned dealing with young children at one of the old restaurants she¡¯d worked at. If you make yourself sound like a teacher, sometimes they listened.
¡°Amir,¡± said the boy in a muffled voice.
¡°We¡¯re going to be alright, Amir,¡± whispered Nancy.
The man made a gagging sound. He looked disgusted, his face half lit he as muttered about the ethnicities he couldn''t stand, how morally corrupt society had become, how the rapture was finally here to purge- a hand smashed through the window over his bench, and he erupted into squealing as shards of glass rained down.
Nancy held her breath and squeezed Amir as a skeletal arm reached into the train car. It was so thin, just bone with skin stretched over it, but a face emerged next. A shock of white hair and sickly skin, there was just enough light to see it had no pupils. Its eyes were empty and white. Looking into them sent shivers of fear through Nancy¡¯s chest, and all she wanted to do was scream. It was some kind of monster. Like something from those violent video games Jenny played all the time.
The creature pulled itself through the jagged glass of the broken window and coughed up blood. With a hiss that sounded like a snake, it pulled itself over and collapsed right on top of the kicking and crying man, and words filled Nancy''s head:
Tarnished Angel (level 3)
¡°What?¡± whispered Nancy as the man wailed, struggling to push the creature off.
"Not me!" he cried. "Not me! You don''t want me! Take them! They''re the sinners!" He pointed at Nancy.
The angel grabbed the man''s head and slammed it against the bench. A choked cry escaped the man''s lips. He looked utterly shocked. Blood ran down from beneath him onto the floor.
Nancy held her breath as the angel hissed, revealing stained teeth. It looked like a person, someone whose body had been dug up after months of rotting. Its skin clung so tightly to its bones, that even though its body was poorly lit in the dark, away from the phone lights, Nancy could see every bump of its ribs, the ridges of its hips. Long white hair bounced as it knelt forward, as its teeth found the man''s throat.
He was still crying softly that he''d always been a good servant of the Lord, that he''d gone to Church as often as he could, and that he''d always... his desperate pleas ended with a crunch.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The angel chewed through the man''s neck, and Nancy shut her eyes, unable to watch. The sounds were even worse, the chewing and crackling of bone, the wet sloppy smacks of flesh, the blood splattering the floor as the angel grunted and slurped and swallowed. Wet and hot droplets landed on Nancy''s face. The angel was making a mess. She flexed all her muscles, going rigid as she held the boy tightly, keeping him from turning around, trying her best not to flinch or make a sound of dismay.
More glass shattered around them. Nancy opened her eyelids as little as she could, trying to see in the dark, wishing one of those phones had slid down this way to light up the space. Or maybe it was better not to look. Did she really want to see these people-eating creatures so clearly?
The angels threw themselves into the car one after another, their skin scraping on broken glass. Nancy tried to count how many bodies she heard bounce off a bench or land on the floor with a thump, but the stench of death, the metallic stench of blood and meat, filled the entire train car. She held her breath. Slowly, as slowly as she could, she reached into her purse with her injured hand, holding the boy with the other. Her fingers curled around her pepper spray. Her knuckles protested, but adrenaline dulled the pain.
Once she had that, once she''d thumbed the cap off, Nancy sat as still as possible, thankful that Amir wasn''t moving much either. Every time he tried to turn his head toward the sounds of footsteps and handsteps, Nancy held the boy''s head tight and kept him against her chest. She didn''t dare whisper to him. Didn''t dare breathe too loudly. The creatures moved on all fours, from body to body, sniffing and chewing and tearing off limbs. A few people cried out, but that was followed by a hiss and a choked scream, and then the disgusting sounds of feeding. It reminded her of pigs on a farm, lapping up wet food from a trough.
Above, thuds and scrapes and dragging sounds went along the ceiling. The angels must''ve climbed on top too; more screams echoed up and down the tunnels and into the train car. The hissing cut sharply through her thoughts, leaving her with nothing but gut-wrenching fear. Nowhere was safe.
Wanting to throw up, Nancy forced herself to look. She counted four shuffling bodies moving. Four, counting the angel chewing through what was left of the horrible man. The angels looked so painfully like people; it confused her. She''d never imagined angels like this; she''d always pictured them as beautiful beings of light and brilliance. Shining servants of God with gorgeous feathery wings. That was how she''d imagined them all her life, standing beside her, protecting her.
These creatures looked completely wrong. Extremely underweight, moving as though they had no minds, almost animal-like. Sniffing and eating like vultures or raccoons. Their bodies glistened from the phone lights, and their shadows crawled all over the walls, then one of the angels screeched, and this time Nancy couldn''t help but flinch. She banged her head against the train door and Amir wriggled in her arms.
The angel was clawing at its eyes, wailing as it scrambled over a body. It spat blood and hissed, and then its foot kicked a phone. A flashlight bounced all over, causing one of the other angels to hiss in pain too. It smashed itself against a seat, and the entire train car jolted.
The other angels shuffled around, hissing and crying, and Nancy squinted at the first angel that screeched. It was on its elbows and knees, almost like an injured dog. As it clawed its face, blood dripping from the scratch marks on its forehead and cheeks, Nancy realized what had hurt it.
The light.
Someone''s forgotten phone, still beaming its flashlight. The angel had walked over it and looked down, and that must be their weakness. Direct light. Their eyes couldn¡¯t handle the light!
Hope clawed its way down her throat. Shaking, Nancy let go of the pepper spray bottle. It took tremendous effort to release her fingers. She had to shut her eyes and inhale slowly to relax. She felt around slowly, sliding her palm over her purse¡¯s velvet lining. Her fingernails bumped against some cards, some cough drops, and the wrapper of some candy bar she''d forgotten about. She winced as it crinkled, but the sound was muffled inside the purse. Where is it?
The first angel finished feasting on the man across the aisle, his wide-eyed face frozen in permanent horror. His throat and chest had been hollowed out, and his ribs stuck out of the fleshy red mess. Bits of him slid off the seat and landed splat on the floor. Another angel came from Nancy''s left, sniffing the air, its empty eyes scanning the bodies and searching.
Tarnished Angel (level 2)
Glass crunched beneath its hands. Its shoulder blades moved grossly as it crawled closer to her. It''s caught her scent. Her''s and Amir¡¯s, she was sure of it.
Come on. Come one! She couldn''t find her phone; she was trying not to panic, trying not to let it overwhelm her, but her breath came shallow and brisk. Her lungs refused to work. She couldn¡¯t tell if she was shaking or if that was the boy.
This angel had short hair. It was thin like the others, hunched over and hissing softly. Then its empty eyes met Nancy''s. It locked onto her. She felt it in every single one of her bones.
Baring its teeth, the creature hissed sharply and launched itself, arm outstretched, grotesque fingernails reaching for her.
Nancy gave up trying to find her phone. She grabbed the pepper spray and, with the scream she''d been forcing down this entire time, sprayed the angel right in the face.
The burning mist caught it straight in the eyes and mouth, and the creature''s head bounced off the arm rail with an ugly thud. It collapsed to the floor on top of Amir¡¯s grandmother, its skinny, horrible body wriggling in agony as it clawed at its eyes and screeched at the top of its lungs. Its feet jerked blindly, catching Nancy''s wrist and knocking the pepper spray from her grip as she slid across the floor to get away, holding the boy tightly.
There was another thump as the angel that had eaten the man slumped onto the floor. Glistening blood rushed down its throat. It opened its mouth and burped. Then it cocked its head, sniffing.
Tarnished Angel (level 6)
Its number had gone up. It ate the man and its level went higher and now it was eyeing her like dessert. She glanced quickly for the pepper spray; it was rolling away from her as the other angel thrashed in agony, but its thrashing had knocked her purse in her direction, and she could see the glossy casing of her phone sticking out.
The angel pounced. She grabbed her phone. Her fingers trembling, panic shuddering through her every movement, she tapped the screen furiously. She found the button for the flashlight and, just as the angel yanked Amir from her embrace, just as the boy cried out and grabbed her blouse, tearing the cloth further, just as the angel''s reeking breath wafted over Nancy, she flicked her phone up, and aimed the sudden burst of brightness into its face.
For a horrid, twisted instance, she got a clear look at the angel: the taught, stretched-out skin, the red strands of meat stuck between its decaying teeth, the glossy emptiness of its all-white eyes, the thin hairs of its eyebrows. It released Amir and fell away, screaming in agony. It writhed and splashed in a pool of blood.
Nancy stood, shaking, adrenaline pumping through her injured body. She had a way to protect herself. She shouted for Amir to get behind her as she held the phone in front of her, armed with light. The other two angels moved closer, perched on a bench, grasping a pole and hissing. She shone the light in their faces, and they scampered back, arms raised, hissing angrily. They couldn''t attack her as long as she had light, but where was she supposed to go?
She figured the footsteps above meant the angels were working their way down the train. They must¡¯ve come from ahead, so they¡¯d be going after that crowd of people earlier.
What the fuck is even going on?
How had she fallen into a zombie horror movie? Was this a dream? A stress-induced nightmare? No, it couldn¡¯t be. She was awake. She was sure of it. Everything hurt, and the stench of blood was too thick in her nose. She had to focus right now. She was breathing too hard, trying to calculate, trying to figure out her next step. What were these angels doing here? Were they connected to the earthquake? Were Jenny and Oliver alright?
That message in her head... it had said Rapture. Was this it?
Is this Rapture?
She bit her lip. That didn''t matter. She had to get to the surface. If the angels couldn''t stand a little flashlight, then surely, she''d be safe above ground. At least until nighttime.
Amir had scampered behind her legs, staring wide-eyed at the angels. She almost told him not to look, but there was no point. He''d already seen them all, and he was shaking too much, and he clung to the back of her legs, crying silently. She had to get him out of here, but they were stuck in a stalemate. A stalemate that would end violently once her phone''s battery died.
"Okay," she whispered as the angels hissed. The first two she''d blinded had recovered, but they stayed back, like alley cats on high alert, waiting for an opening to pounce. The one she¡¯d sprayed was bleeding profusely from its eyes, its face red and blotchy. "It''s going to be alright," she said loudly, for her own sake as well as the boy''s. She tried to sound confident. "We''re going to move to the front of the train."
The boy whimpered, but he didn''t protest. She''d done the math quickly. She''d been on the train for a while before the earthquake, and they had to be closer to the next stop than the previous one. Everyone who''d run back was probably doomed. Going forward made the most sense, and if help was coming, she could meet them before they got to the train and warn them about these monsters. She swallowed hard, her mind made up.
She stepped back, knelt, and picked up her pepper spray. The boy grabbed something from his grandmother''s bag, and, after a moment of tapping, another source of light shone from it too.
"Good," whispered Nancy. "We have to hold them back at all sides, okay? Just like a video game. The flashlight keeps us safe. We¡¯ll go to the hospital and find your dad."
The boy nodded fervently, his brows furrowed, an intent expression on his little face. He held the phone with both hands, turning this way and that, and the angels hissed and screeched and scrambled out of their way, bounding across the benches and running into poles with hefty thuds to escape the light. One brushed right past Nancy in its mad rush, and she cried out and stumbled back. But it didn¡¯t have a chance to hurt her; the light had flashed in its eyes, and the creature bolted to the far side of the train car. Breathing hard, Nancy led Amir slowly up the aisle until they got to the heavy door.
She told him to keep his eyes and the light on the angels as she struggled to slide the door open. Beyond it, through the cracked windows, she could see the bloody mess in the next car. One of the overhead lights was flickering, and she grimaced at the sight, but at least there weren¡¯t any angels in there.
¡°Okay,¡± she said, her voice strained from the effort, her knee throbbing with pain. She turned back and making sure none of the angels had gotten too close. ¡°We¡¯re going to cross over into the other car.¡±
¡°Nana says we should never do that,¡± said Amir, clutching his phone with both hands. His back was to the angels, and she clenched her teeth out of fear. She stifled the impulse to snap at him.
¡°This is an emergency,¡± she said firmly. ¡°Nana wants us to do our best, right?¡±
He nodded.
Keeping her light on the angel, Nancy motioned for him to go across. ¡°Watch your step. There¡¯s a small gap.¡± Then she hurried after him, glancing at the train tracks below before shutting the door. All the angels screamed and bolted toward them. Just as she opened the next door, just as she managed to hobble inside, she heard a series of thuds and shattered glass. She looked back to see two angels struggling to crawl through the door¡¯s window, their heads and arms thrashing against the other.
end of year update, goodbye 24, and stubbing announcement
hello everyone
tldr:
depression swallowed me whole - lots and lots of hospital stuff
im back, finishing angels book 2, posting a few chapters today (scheduled to come out every few hours), then the rest on a scheduled basis so i can keep up with things
angels book 1''s official release soon (so excited for the audiobook!)
love you very much
im sorry for being ghost again. i crashed. i crashed and burned and somehow crashed and froze too. then i crashed and got waterlogged.
my father''s cancer swung its ugly head again. they were trying new medications - there was also a big thing with the insurance, hilarious given recent events - and then there were complications. we thought this was it. game over.
it wasn''t. but it also kind of is. it''s just counting down the months now and thinking about a whole bunch of "lasts."
last thanks giving? last christmas? last new years? last what else?
it burnt me out. i was so burnt out. i still am. this was the cycle i went through a few years ago and now i have to go through it again for a loved one.
the worst part is that it really seemed like everything might be okay for a while. and there''s a pattern to my life that i just can''t with. trying to do better, achieving something, then having things spiral out. im so tired of the having hope and feeling wrecked and the back and forth of that.
i have been seeing a therapist. ive been doing a lot of work on me. i''ve cried a lot. been facing the sources of my guilt, shame, fears, and the negative voices i constantly allow to burrow in my head.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
and i did come out of the gloom a few weeks ago. things are still trucking along, the whirlwind of hospital appointments and checkups and family bs and everything else.
but i did not want to delay my publisher''s deadline for book 2 again - they''ve been so kind and supportive throughout this year, and more importantly, i did not want to delay getting more chapters to you. i didn''t want to delay working on this story and somehow losing the threads and giving up. so ive been working diligently.
i have a bunch of chapters to come out today. forgive me if they''re not as polished, and always feel free to call out typos and things. i may not get around to them right away, but i appreciate them immensely.
after today''s five chapters, i''ll be posting regularly on Monday''s and Thursdays. scheduled a few chapters/weeks ahead as i work on the rest, and im excited. i will be holding my self accountable and i want to use that pressure to be more ON IT.
2024 got away from me when i thought it would finally be a year i could be happy
but thinking like that is like shooting ourselves in the foot right? difficult things always spring up. the best we can do is try to be present and open and have a willingness to try
that''s what ive been working on. maintain my willingness to try, cause at the end of the day i wanna write. i wanna tell a whole buncha stories
and in the spirit of that, i can announce that ALL HIS ANGELS ARE STARVING (book 1) is officially coming out in February!! the ebook, paperback, and audiobook!!
im very excited for that, and looking forward to finish out angels 2 and 3 and ending the series with what i hope is a cathartic ending.
due to it coming out soon, i have to stub angels book 1 with the new year, so almost literally January 1st. i''ll be removing most of angels book 1 chapters from the listing here.
if you are wondering about Samiya and what''s happened with that story - i just can''t right now. that story was my processing my own health issues and horrible things, and it''s like........
i will finish that story. i love it too much to let it go. but i think i''ll need a bit more time. cause i feel like i can''t even heal yet. it''s just waiting for the thing to happen and then i gotta heal and im tired of that.
and i want to finish angels out and see it through to the end. i don''t think i''ll ever juggle two series again. maybe a series and some short projects on the side like my grandma/goblin honey story that i love so much.
we''ll see
new year, tougher me.
thank you so so so much for waiting so patiently
your support has meant so much, and means so much, and i will forever be grateful
yours,
tess
70. Foot
The cries for Father quieted as a hush shivered through the crowd of Ghouls. Hundreds of them stood, seemingly dumbstruck, around Yeshua as he pulled deeply from the one he''d captured.
Jenny stared through their legs, through the entire crowd of them, at the source of golden light, as unmistakable sucking and slurping noises cut through the air. She couldn''t see Yeshua clearly, just his silhouette in the golden light holding onto the Ghoul. The robe fluttered around him. She pictured him either kissing the creature or sucking from its eyes, and she couldn''t decide which was worse. Maybe he was just biting its neck like a vampire.
One of the Ghouls let out a choked cry, and, all at once, chaos erupted.
Sobbing and screaming, they rushed away from Yeshua, hundreds of white mannequin forms scrambling, their toothy grins erased from their faces, their wide eyes trailing smoke.
She curled up into a ball as they stepped all over her in their mad frenzy to escape. Several of them fell, hands reaching wildly for anything to grab. Their palms slapped her helmet, fingers cracked the armor around her arms. Several stomped on her injured leg and slipped in her blood. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out, hugging her knees to her chest.
A shout came from Yeshua''s direction, and another massive bolt of lightning struck the ground. Everything shook as thunder rolled violently across the sky, across the world. Through the chaos of rushing Ghouls, through their white limbs, Jenny caught glimpses and flashes of Yeshua snapping from one Ghoul to the next. He was like a bolt of golden lightning zipping through the crowd, pausing every time he caught one, making that horrible slurping noise again.
With his flowing long hair and beard, he reminded Jenny of a lion hunting down a pack of beasts, all of them too frightened to make a stand or fight back, running mindlessly in every direction as he picked them off one by one. All the while, he was laughing.
Laughing loudly with manic glee, a deep, booming laugh, his purple robe billowing behind him as he ran. Milky liquid dripped from his beard, and his chest seemed to be widening, shoulders and arms filling. He was growing bigger. The Ghouls he attacked didn''t burst into liquid like the ones Jenny cut down. These clattered to the ground, lifeless and limp like mannequins tipped over at the mall. After a while, piles and piles of them spread all around Jenny as Yeshua bolted back and forth through the crowd.
Once most of the Ghouls had gotten away, another lifeless white corpse fell from Yeshua''s embrace, he faltered like he was drunk. He swiped his hair back with both hands, sighing deeply, and Jenny wondered how long it had been since he''d touched his hair, his face. Then, hunched over and wiping his lips, Yeshua turned his head and looked right at her.
Panic struck her chest like a drum, and she blinked away the salt the Ghouls had kicked up, trying to clear the cloudiness that blanketed her thoughts.
I need to heal. I need to use my stat points. He''s going to...
Yeshua sauntered toward her, his body swaying left and right. He was shaky on his feet, but golden light bloomed and radiated from his skin. Jenny''s vision kept blurring in and out of focus; he looked like a star had taken the shape of a man and was coming for her.
She released her injured leg, flinching from the pain as she summoned her hatchet back. Light flashed, and she blinked away tears, trying to keep her focus on Yeshua, trying to slide away from him. But even that took more strength than she had left, and her hatchet, now too heavy, slipped out of her hand, bounced off her armor, and landed on the salty ground. What was the use? Even if she poured all her stat points into Strength, there was no way she''d keep up with someone two stages higher than her.
In the blink of an eye, Yeshua towered over her, breathing hard. His chest, though fuller than before, was still scrawny and she could see his ribs jutting out when a breeze swirled around him. It ruffled his long hair and beard and the purple robe so that she could see his thin thighs and his sunken belly; he was clearly still hungry.
Was he going to suck on her too? Was he going to drain her just like the Ghouls? Was he a monster too?
Should I pray to him?
She wondered as he stood there, catching his breath, his golden light brightening and waning. No. The ghouls had been praying to him this entire time... or were they? She couldn''t tell. But they''d been eating him, they''d been hurting him, and it''s not like she''d done anything to hurt him.
Well, I did cut off his hand.
She was trying to be brave, trying to brace herself to fight back, but when Yeshua took another step, when his bare foot landed inches from the bloody stump of her knee, she almost choked on a scream. Her lungs twisted like wet towels.
Don''t come near me. Don''t!
No, no, no, no!
Her insides rebelled; she kept flashing back to the chemistry wing, lying immobile on the table in too much agony to fight back, and how that Wretched Angel had knelt over her, pinning her down with its weight as it pressed its lips to her broken nose and... Shhhrrrlp.
The sound still snaked through her ears and filled the inside of her skull with fear. Not again. Never again.
No!
I''d rather slit my own throat.
But Yeshua held out his arm, palm facing down, over her. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. Don¡¯t cry, she told herself. I deserve this. I deserve this. I killed Susan. I killed Miriam. I deserve this.
He''ll grab my hair and lift me off the ground and-
Red light shot out of his hand with several small bolts of lightning. Crackling and snapping, they rained down on her injured leg, and a furious hot pain once again tore through her leg. This time, Jenny couldn''t hold back the scream.
Agony seared across Jenny like a ferocious storm wind. If she''d had the strength, she would''ve chopped off what was left of her leg, would''ve attacked Yeshua, but pain wracked her body. She writhed on the ground, twisting, her arms and legs jerking involuntarily as she screamed into her helmet till her throat was about to collapse.
Then, all at once, it stopped. The bolts of lightning blinked out of existence, the pain vanished, and Jenny collapsed, breathing hard. Her insides felt scraped out. Yeshua stood over her, smiling kindly, his arms folded in front of him.
She saw flashes of imagery: paintings and statues and stained-glass windows, all of them depicting Jesus, his kind eyes and smile, his powerful presence. Coughing, Jenny slowly pulled off her helmet and turned to her side to push herself up. Both her feet responded.
Wide-eyed, Jenny glanced down to see her foot had grown back, pale and brand new and coming out of her armored knee as though it had always been there. She shot Yeshua a look. Then slowly lowered her head and stared at her new foot. She wiggled her toes; it felt like her foot. She tried to get up, but her elbow gave away, and she almost collapsed again. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Yeshua knelt. "You need to rest," he said. In her exhaustion, all Jenny heard was a series of hisses and shushes until Yeshua repeated himself.
She shook her head, but she couldn''t bring herself to speak. There was a lump in her throat, but now that the pain had subsided, now that someone else was holding her, maybe she could rest. Maybe she could allow herself to rest. And Yeshua wasn''t just anyone. His presence, though she''d just witnessed him butcher a bunch of Ghouls, their lifeless bodies left scattered around the flat land, she found herself trusting in him. His aura, menacing and imposing as it was, was kind.
Bracing her back with one hand, Yeshua raised his other arm and shook it free of his robe. He presented it in front of her face. "You should eat," he said. "You need your strength. You have to maintain your Blooded status or it will consume you."
Saliva flooded Jenny''s mouth as she stared at the fleshy bit of forearm. It was inches away from her teeth. She could smell him: sweet with a hint of savory, salty. Drool spilled over her lips. His soft, light brown skin... it would be so nice to sink her teeth into it. To feel the burst of his blood in her mouth. The delicious warmth. And he was just offering it to her! For free! All she had to do was put him in her mouth and-
It had to be a trick. She''d already been tricked once.
It wouldn''t happen again.
"Eat," repeated Yeshua, making a fist to flex his muscles. "It''s alright, my child. This was how I saved my people once. My flesh is yours. My blood is the covenant, given willingly for the forgiveness of sins."
His voice was too reassuring, too warm. Jenny grabbed his arm, digging her fingernails into his wrist. Red lightning flickered across, as if promising that no matter what she did, what she ate, he would heal right away. Her heart pounded; she could feel it pounding in her jaws, in her throat. Just one bite. Just press my lips to his skin and feel his blood pulsing and...
Her breath came short and quick. Hunger clenched her ribs like a roaring beast. The taste of him was so close, she could already feel his skin tearing open, could already feel his flesh moving down her throat as she swallowed. The warmth that would fill her belly would radiate through her. The strength that would return to her limbs. She would feel whole again; she would feel alive again.
Then she remembered the last time that had happened, and more tears welled up. Tears of hunger and anguish as she pictured Susan''s warm smile. Susan had welcomed Jenny into her arms and she''d....
I have to maintain my Blooded status. So I have every right to eat.
That''s what he said.
But what does that mean?
How does he know about that?
I''ll become that thing again...
But I am already...
Desecrated Human
Susan healed me. At the cost of her life. I don''t want to lose control again.
But what about the fights ahead? What about stronger and stronger enemies? Look how powerful Yeshua is.
I need to get stronger.
And besides. I don''t have to kill anyone for this. Yeshua can regenerate. I could eat as much as I want!
But that would make me no different from the Ghouls. And what if Yeshua is playing me? Just like Eve... Eve promised me victory and power and, in the end...?
I won''t squander Susan''s sacrifice. Not over this.
Her stomach growled, threatening to rip through her skin and latch onto Yeshua, but Jenny shook her head firmly and released his arm. The movement made her head spin, and she lurched to the side.
Yeshua caught her. "My child," he whispered soothingly. "Perhaps then it''s time to rest. But know this, you are forgiven."
She squinted at him, struggling to stay awake, raising her head to ask him what he meant. But his hand hovered over her. His fingers gently touched her forehead. There was another burst of light, and then everything went dark.
--
Jenny awoke beneath the cross, eyes opening to see the severed hand and torn feet still nailed to the wood. Dried blood stuck to the skin. For a dizzying, horrifying second, she pictured herself crucified, her arms spread, the pain of it all as she bared herself to the world. Then she lurched back into her body and sat up gasping. She felt as though she''d been underwater, and she stared at her fingers and palm, peeling her armor back just to make sure there weren''t any holes in her body.
Then she grabbed her feet. The armored one was still intact. The new one, pale skin and smooth, was bare. When she touched it, she shuddered, and her toes curled. She slid her hand down and squeezed her calf muscle, peeling the torn armor back further up her leg, looking for a scar or any indication that her leg had been ripped off. The only difference was the new foot was lighter, cleaner. The rest of her was filthy.
To her side lay Yeshua, facing away from her. She noted that he didn''t have his golden aura while he slept, but he''d piled several more Ghoul bodies around them. Jenny''s nose curled. Liquid leaked from their empty eyes, and their slack-jawed mouths were left open, their heads cracked at the cheeks. Yeshua must''ve been sucking their juices out through their eyes. She shuddered again as she got the ghost of a feeling: his teeth scraping her eyelids as he sucked and sucked...
"Gross," she whispered.
How long was I asleep?
She rubbed her face with her palm before looking around for her hatchet. The sky seemed brighter, or so she thought. It wasn¡¯t sunlight or moonlight; did this place even have stars? There was no way to tell what time of day it was.
Her hatchet was right beside her. The dried blood had been cleaned away, and the flower patterns inscribed into the wooden handle looked beautiful again. The obsidian face almost seemed to shimmer. Her helmet, dented and cracked, rested on the ground next to it, but something else caught her eye. Her severed foot lay waiting behind her helmet.
Armor clung to it, the scales chipped and broken in several places where the Ghouls must''ve chewed. A mangled bone jutted out the top, the bone that once connected to her knee. She suppressed the strange twist of disgust as she stared at her old foot. She was no stranger to having bits of her restored.
Jenny flexed her fingers. An angel had chewed them off once, but Susan grew them back for her. She touched her chest and her side. She''d been impaled by a steel rod then later eaten alive by Miriam. She shut her eyes and sighed, remembering the dumb philosophical dilemma Oliver once told her about. It was an excuse to engage her in conversation, and it had worked on Susan, but Jenny ended up ignoring them both while half-listening. She didn''t remember it exactly. Something about a boat and all its parts being replaced over the years. The old parts were used to build an identical boat, and the riddle asked, which one was the real boat?
Am I still the real me? Jenny tried not to think about that. Don''t we lose cells and stuff every day? We grow back every day. Every day we are someone else... She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. All I ever wanted was to wake up feeling new.
All she¡¯d ever wanted was to get away from home, to get away from her mother¡¯s clutches. She¡¯d wanted to figure out who she was, but now? The only answer she¡¯d found through this nightmare was that she was a bloodthirsty, flesh-eating monster, so consumed by her inner ugliness that she¡¯d killed Susan.
With the damp, weighted feeling of having slept too much dulling her head, Jenny reached over and grabbed the severed foot. It was cold and clammy. The armor had turned dull gray, no longer blue, and some of it curled back. Scales crumpled from her touch, reminding her of dried, dead plants in autumn. She remembered something Dr. Lee had said about their armor being organic. But that all seemed like a lifetime ago. And what about her exoskeleton? That had been organic too, hadn''t it? It had come right out of her.
She peeled and brushed away the dead scales, flakes drifting down like ashes, until a dirty and blood-smeared foot remained. She forced herself to look at the exposed flesh on top, the spiky remains of her bones. Her toenails were too long. The big one had chipped, and she smiled, remembering that she''d bumped it on her dresser table the day before... her smile faded. It had been the day before the earthquake.
She rubbed her ankle, taking note of the brown patch of skin, darkened by endless hours of sitting on her bedroom floor. It was dry and as dark as the bark of an aged tree, and when she ran her thumb over it, the skin seemed to slide right off. Taste yourself, urged something inside her, and Jenny realized she was salivating again.
Her new foot flexed involuntarily, toes digging into the salt, and she glanced down. The new ankle wasn''t dark at all, but pinkish. The nail wasn''t chipped. Even her toes seemed better, less crooked, no longer misshapen from years of walking. Her skin was pale and soft and there were no dry patches on her sole.
But the foot she held in her hand? Its sole felt plump and tender, and she scratched at the nearly hard-as-a-rock dead skin, already picturing herself biting into her heel and... With a frustrated cry and activating Savage Throw, Jenny threw the foot as hard as she could, launching it through the dark, miserable world until it vanished from view.
"Probably should''ve eaten that," said Yeshua from behind her, and she nearly jumped, turning around to face him, ready for a fight. He was sitting up, one arm resting on a knee as he stared intensely. "You are hungry."
Anger crackled up Jenny''s spine. She knew she should be grateful. He''d gotten rid of the Ghouls and healed her leg, but she couldn''t help it. She forced herself to take a breath, to lower her arms. "Who are you?"
As if I don¡¯t already know.
Yeshua stroked his beard. He seemed so different from the desperate, shriveled-up man she''d found nailed to the cross begging to die. He smiled warmly.
"I am who I am," he said after a weighty pause. "He who takes the sin of the material world."
71. Feet
Get away from him, was Jenny''s first impulse.
Get away. Get away.
Leave me alone.
Thoughts bubbled up the back of her head, each one worse than the one before. Flashes of Sunday school, of sermons, and being told who to worship and how to obey. Of her mother slapping Jenny''s face and telling her that Jesus will be ashamed. Of those miserable nights where she''d prayed on the floor till her knees hurt, begging the lord for forgiveness, terrified of what sins she might''ve accumulated by accident, terrified that she was being punished already. After all, good people are rewarded, and she would get punished by her mother, would have to go hungry, would cry herself to sleep.
She''d begged the lord to save her. Studied and read verses from the Bible. Kept trying to find the strength everyone kept saying there would be. She knew the words, or at least once knew, and now here this guy was. A guy she¡¯d found nailed to a cross in another world, looking the part and saying the things she¡¯d grown up hearing. The one who took the sins of the world...
He''d said she was forgiven.
Jenny inhaled deeply, her fear-response making her head spin. She didn''t know what to say. She felt young again, standing in a church that felt like a palace, her small footsteps echoing as she turned around to admire the tapestries above. It was the middle of the night, and her mother was hoping to find shelter and... Jenny had walked up to the enormous statue of the man on the cross and felt this sense of awe, this tremendous fear that her younger mind couldn''t figure out, a pressure that a foot was hanging over her head just waiting to come down and crush her like a bug.
That same feeling came back to her as she looked at Yeshua. That was how she knew who he was.
"May I ask you something?" he said, one leg folded beneath him, his arm resting on the knee of the other. "Why didn''t you kill me?"
Jenny bit down on the inside of her lips. "I don''t know. I figured if you wanted to die, you could die after you got off that thing." She remembered her decision. Throwing her hatchet. Slicing through Yeshua''s arm. The red bolt of lightning. Why had she set him free?
Wasn¡¯t it to save herself? She¡¯d been surrounded by the ghouls, and she figured he was powerful. And that healing ability... was that where the stories came from?
Could he... resurrect the dead with that ability?
She smushed her new big toe against the sand, bending the toenail, feeling the flex of her muscles. Was this how he¡¯d done it? In the stories? Healing the ill, restoring the disabled, giving strength to those who couldn¡¯t walk or take care of themselves?
Ideas and memories spun. Stories from the past. Readings of the Bible. The fish and the loaves of bread... Had he just using the system to produce mass quantities of food? And what about walking on water? Did he have a skill that allowed him to cross over the waves without sinking? But most importantly... healing and resurrecting the dead?
Susan.
Yeshua had been quiet. It was a solemn, weighty quiet. "I am glad to be alive. Being alive is a very good thing." He shut his eyes, raised his head as though in prayer, and swallowed hard. Jenny saw his Adam''s Apple moving up and down. Then he straightened up and walked over to the cross. He touched the feet he''d left nailed to the wood and glanced at Jenny. "Are you sure I can''t interest you in something to eat? You and I... We have to eat a different kind of food now. And the System can no longer create the sustenance we require.¡±
"What?¡± asked Jenny, squinting at him. Her stomach twisted and rumbled with furious hunger as she watched him touch his torn feet. It was like he was inspecting vegetables growing on a vine. ¡°What do you mean?¡±
He shot her a tight-lipped smile then turned back to his feet. It was one foot over the other, both of them ripped at the shins, almost exactly where Jenny¡¯s foot had broken off earlier. A nail with a round head, driven through the center of each foot, held them in place. Dried blood stuck to the skin, blood from when he¡¯d struggled to break free.
Yeshua grabbed the cross with one hand and braced himself. Then, with a grunt, he grabbed his feet and yanked them upwards.
There was a gross tearing sound, a series of cracks as the nail moved through a series of bones. Then, with a final soft cry of effort, Yeshua popped his feet free.
Thick, dark blood oozed from the gash between his toes where the nail had ripped through. He separated the feet, toes and loose skin flapping, and Jenny couldn''t help but be reminded of jelly-filled donuts.
Something flickered in Yeshua¡¯s expression. Hunger. A fierce, violent hunger that Jenny recognized. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and he smiled at Jenny. "Go on," he suggested. "Give the System a try. Make some food. Anything. The only way to learn is to try."
The sight of the feet made Jenny feel weak. She wanted to snatch one from Yeshua¡¯s hands. Wanted to bite off the toes one by one. Wanted to sink her teeth into the wrinkled pink flesh of the heel. His feet looked so much more appetizing than Jenny''s had; they were larger, fleshier. More of a meal. More meat. Yeshua wanted her to create food using the System, and she... she wanted the foot, yes, but what had he meant before? The system can no longer create the sustenance we require... The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
What does that mean?
I can¡¯t eat... normal food?
She placed one hand on her stomach, trying to quiet the restless hunger, holding out her other hand in front of her, palm facing upward. She kept reminding herself she wasn¡¯t a monster anymore. She didn¡¯t have an exoskeleton. She didn¡¯t have tentacles. She wasn¡¯t....
Give me a banana or something, she thought, turning away as she focused her mind on the Guidance System in her head. A shudder of uneasiness crept up her side; she kept expecting Eve to respond whenever she used the System.
A banana will cost 100 Energy.
Sufficient energy
Golden light shimmered on top of her palm. Blossoming and stretching, elongating and curving like a rounded crescent moon before hardening. The light remained yellow and bright, and after a moment, it faded away and Jenny held a perfect banana in her hand, just waiting to be peeled.
"Ah, a banana," said Yeshua over her shoulder, and Jenny flinched.
But before she could snap at him, she caught sight of him chewing, the blood oozing down his chin and into his beard. That queasy twist of hunger wrung out her insides, and she swallowed what she was going to say.
¡°I used to love bananas,¡± he said thoughtfully before putting the big toe in his mouth. His teeth connected with a crunch, and she watched him chew and swallow. Then he nodded toward her banana. ¡°Tell me how that tastes. I hope it¡¯s good.¡±
Is he... Is he antagonizing me?
Saliva gushed in her mouth. She tried to convince herself it was because of the banana. She could smell its sweet, fruity aroma, and she hadn''t eaten in so long... Why shouldn¡¯t she be salivating?
But that wasn¡¯t true, was it? She¡¯d eaten Miriam. She¡¯d taken a chunk out of Susan. She¡¯d eaten angels. She¡¯d eaten plenty, yet she was starving.
Desecrated Human...
She punctured the top of the banana with her fingernail before pulling the peel down. Strands of banana fiber stretched as she turned the banana around, peeling carefully and slowly to reveal the curved white flesh of the fruit. She fought the urge to shove the entire thing into her mouth, but her hands shook as she stared at it. White and creamy, and the fruity scent so strong in her nose. She tore a sizeable chunk off the top.
The banana felt cool between her thumb and fingers, and she held it in front of her, her eyes flicking toward the half-eaten foot in Yeshua¡¯s hands, the toes now gone, the bones exposed in a grizzly sight. Again, saliva filled her mouth, and she met Yeshua¡¯s intense gaze.
"Eat," he said. "Then you will know."
Okay, okay. Jenny forced herself to relax her jaws. What was going on? Her entire body was hesitating, and a ballooning feeling of dread filled her chest as she brought the banana chunk to her lips. Tingling raced up and down her legs. Her lungs contracted; what the fuck?
As soon as the banana touched her tongue and she closed her mouth, she understood. The rest of the banana fell from her shaking hand and landed with a soft splat on the ground.
It tasted like vomit. It tasted foul and bitter and rancid. The squishy texture felt like a chunk of mucus. Her bottom jaw ached. Her entire body convulsed, every signal firing: spit it out!
But Jenny¡¯s trembling fingers kept her lips shut. She was trying to force herself to eat. She looked up at Yeshua who smiled sadly, before turning away, as if averting his gaze to give her privacy. Jenny took a shaky step forward, still trying to keep the banana down, trying to swallow. She glanced at the cross, hopelessness welling up inside her like a cavernous beast as she fought against the terrible feeling. She was shaking. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shut her eyes and clenched her fists. And then, when she couldn''t withstand it anymore, she threw up.
She dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach as she heaved again. There wasn¡¯t much left in her stomach. Mostly water and blood and bile. But it splashed onto the sand, and in the middle of it, sat the glistening chunk of banana, her teeth marks visible in the gooey white flesh.
When it was over, when her body had calmed down enough, Jenny flopped onto the ground, breathing hard as spittle stuck to her chin. Her mouth tasted acidic, bitter and burning.
I can¡¯t eat normal food anymore...
"I am truly sorry," said Yeshua gently. His voice drifted down to her as though he was speaking from the sky. "Once we become Blooded, even if the status disappears, our internal systems are forever changed."
Blooded. That notification... Jenny remembered when she¡¯d first gotten it. When she should¡¯ve died as countless angels pulled her battered, falling apart body toward the Desecrated Angel. She¡¯d taken a bite out of one of them, desperate to fight, desperate to get out of their clutches.
She remembered how wonderful it felt. The way flesh had given way to her teeth, and saliva gushed in her mouth even though her tongue burned from the banana she¡¯d tried to eat. It overflowed, escaping her lips and running down the sides of her face toward her ears. She sat up quickly and wiped it off.
Yeshua placed the foot he hadn¡¯t eaten in front of her. ¡°For when you are ready,¡± he said, sitting beside her on the ground. ¡°I would like to hear about how you came to this world. How you became Desecrated, especially when are you so against consuming flesh.¡±
Wanting to cry, Jenny reached for the foot. Her fingers closed around what was left of the ankle and she brought it toward her, holding it as though it was a sandwich and not a man''s foot. She couldn''t look at Yeshua. Couldn''t take her eyes off the meal. Her stomach felt twisted and gross from throwing up again, and her throat felt scraped raw, but she knew beyond a doubt that Yeshua was right. She would have to eat; she so badly wanted to eat.
Turning the foot over and bringing the heel to her lips, she braced herself. It was cold. Cold and bumpy, and she held her lips against the weathered skin for a while. The metallic sweetness of dried blood rose from the torn skin and exposed muscle and bone. The scent filled her nose and her lungs; she inhaled deeply. Her thumbs pressing into the sole, she sank her teeth into the heel and fresh tears slid down her cheeks.
This is my body. This is my blood.
She''d been so hungry. She''d been so, so hungry. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, shoulders shaking as she ate. As the word filled her mind again:
Blooded.
She expected her exoskeleton to burst out of her belly button, red and viscous and thick. She expected the tentacles to surge from her back, transforming her into an uncontrollable monster again. But after the first bite and the second, after she¡¯d nibbled on the heel and flesh filled her stomach and nothing changed, her shoulders relaxed, she shuddered and stifled the urge to cry. She ate more readily, snapping and crackling through the elongated bones of the toes.
Maybe I have more control over it than I thought... Maybe there¡¯s still hope for me.
She wiped away the tears. And then she told Yeshua everything, starting with the earthquake, the first angel she¡¯d seen, and ending with the rainbow light that brought her to this bleak world.
72. Eema
The bottom of the cross dragged along the ground, the scraping sound a steady constant as Yeshua carried it over his shoulder. One end of the crossbeam stuck out like a shark fin, and Jenny followed quietly, feeling as though the dark emptiness of the world had brightened immensely since she¡¯d told him everything.
Hissing and shushing in the language of angels, she¡¯d spoken at length about the Survival Challenge. About the angels she¡¯d fought, the people she¡¯d seen die, the nightmarish scenes she¡¯d stumbled into. She''d described the blue-colored angel who¡¯d become Desecrated and about the babies that had followed her around. She¡¯d spoken about her brother, about Ms. Monique and the others, and Susan. She¡¯d said a lot about Susan: her kindness, her bravery, her abilities, her sacrifice. Yeshua looked a little amused when Jenny described Susan¡¯s blue hair.
¡°A girl with blue hair? I¡¯ve never seen such a thing among humans,¡± he¡¯d said. He¡¯d spoken as though he was trying to lighten the mood. ¡°You must care greatly for this friend.¡±
¡°Yeah... as a friend,¡± she¡¯d said, unsure how to explain how she really felt. And she was about to let it go and carry on describing her tentacles, but then she couldn¡¯t help herself. ¡°I think... I think it¡¯s more than just as a friend.¡±
¡°I see,¡± he¡¯d said, stroking his beard. Jenny thought he¡¯d admonish her, denote her feelings as sinful and condemn her, but he was smiling. ¡°Love is truly a radiant thing,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Blessed are the ones who love, for they bring warmth to the worlds and shall receive love in return.¡±
His words resounded like a prayer or a sermon or something, something more than just a mere phrase, and Jenny felt a sense of weightlessness. It felt good. It was nice listening to him speak, but the feeling faded as quickly as it had come. Jenny fumbled her next words as she described everything else. She told him about Eve and the promises it had made, how she¡¯d used Severed Spirit, and about Miriam.
She described the weird memory of life as an angel, the darkness on the cafeteria floor, about how she¡¯d pulled everyone through the light. How they¡¯d avoided the end of the Survival Challenge. How there was no true victor. How she¡¯d brought about the apocalypse.
Then she told him about giving birth to Eve, and Yeshua was quiet again. For a while, the only sounds were Jenny¡¯s chewing, finishing up the foot he¡¯d given her. She¡¯d crunched through bones and toenails and veins, not wasting a single bit of flesh, and it wasn¡¯t till she¡¯d finished that she realized she¡¯d eaten all of it. Her hand went to her stomach, thinking she¡¯d be sick, but her body made good use of the meal. Strength returned to her muscles and limbs, and she felt satisfied. She felt restored.
She¡¯d eaten.
That was when Yeshua stood up, his purple robe billowing about him as he twisted from side to side. He looked at her, a faint smile on his face, and said, ¡°Follow me.¡±
He hadn¡¯t said another word since. Jenny trailed along, sometimes a few paces behind him, watching the wooden beam bounce along the dark sand, watching the muscles of Yeshua¡¯s broad back roll as he lumbered forward. He kept a steady pace despite the apparent weight of the cross. Jenny wanted to help him, but he¡¯d given her an intense look earlier when he¡¯d struggled to hoist it over his shoulder. It was a look that said: this is my burden to bear.
Sometimes she walked beside him, thinking about all the stories and sermons she''d heard about ¡°walking with Jesus.¡± How Jesus carried people during their hardest times even though most people assumed they were alone. Forsaken by God.
She wasn¡¯t sure where they were headed but she didn¡¯t mind the quiet. She¡¯d spoken for such a long time that her throat hurt. With a small flash of golden light, she made a water bottle for herself. Don¡¯t forget to hydrate. Susan¡¯s voice floated through her thoughts, and it brought her warmth.
Love is a radiant thing, he¡¯d said. Why wasn¡¯t that in the old texts? Why wasn¡¯t that written and expressed everywhere?
After a long while of walking, the pillars came into view, and Yeshua spoke in a strained voice. ¡°I have been thinking very hard about what you have shared with me. I would like you to know that I am very sorry for your loss. I too have lost many, and it was my fault, for I had asked them to follow in my footsteps.¡± He kept walking forward, his sweat-drenched hair bouncing, his robe fluttering around his knees. The cross only seemed to get heavier, and he hunched forward a bit more.
Jenny didn¡¯t respond. She knew all the stories of the apostles and how they¡¯d died in horrible ways. She knew of the persecution, and then she thought of how their words reached the eastern edges of Asia. How there¡¯d been turmoil as her ancestors either rejected the faith or embraced it, and the bloodshed that followed. She didn¡¯t know what to make of that.
Yeshua continued. ¡°My eema liked to say that all things have their time. And then she¡¯d say, ¡®If not now, when?¡¯ And for a long time, I did not understand. But she was a very strong woman, and I think you are like my eema.¡±
¡°Eema?¡± echoed Jenny. This word wasn¡¯t spoken in angel tongue. It wasn¡¯t hissed through teeth. It was said lovingly, in a language she¡¯d never heard before, but even though she¡¯d asked, she already understood what it meant.
¡°My mother,¡± he said. ¡°My mother, Myriam. The First Mary.¡±
At his words, a shiver tangled itself around Jenny¡¯s spine. Miriam?
¡°Myriam was a common name in my time. I had many friends who went by that name, and they even adopted the name Mary.¡± He chuckled a little bit, pausing to catch his breath. A raspy wheezing sound had snuck into his voice. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his head, clung to his beard, and dripped off. His arms and legs were shaking, but he turned to smile at her over his shoulder. ¡°It was the cause of much confusion. But Mary wasn¡¯t just a name. Mary was a title bestowed upon my eema. Mary, Mother of God they called her. But as you can see, I am just a man.¡±
He fell quiet again. Jenny got the sense that a lot of heavy emotions and memories were going through his mind, and she felt similarly. Questions burned holes in her thoughts, but she listened patiently, just as he¡¯d listened to her.
"My eema was the victor of a Survival Challenge. Like you, she was sought out by a voice. Ushered. Guided. And she slaughtered endless numbers of angels and humans alike. She was young too, and she recognized who the voice belonged to. Whose will had taken root in her mind.¡± Yeshua sighed deeply. ¡°At first, as many of us would be, she was ecstatic to be host to the Lord. After all, how many generations of her family had prayed to Him? Had begged Him for guidance? And now there He was, in the midst of hell, guiding her. Granting her the strength to fight. Pushing her forward when she wanted to collapse. She believed she was chosen. Blessed. Acting out the will of Adonai. El Shaddai. Elohim.¡±
Jenny slowed her steps. She remembered that train of thought, remembered how she¡¯d felt when Eve had shown her visions of powerful people. Victors of past Survival Challenges. Of Gods and Goddesses and their many powers. Eve had promised her that strength. It had fueled Jenny with want. With need. If only she could be so powerful, then she¡¯d solve all her problems.
But Eve had only used her. She¡¯d just been a means to an end. And as Yeshua went on, she learned that his eema had been similarly used.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
¡°Why she was chosen, we will never know,¡± continued Yeshua, sweating more and sounding upset. ¡°But in the blood and horror, as she herself became powerful, she realized what He was. He wasn¡¯t a force for good. He wasn¡¯t what her fathers and mothers had prayed to. He couldn¡¯t be. He wasn¡¯t love. He wasn¡¯t truth. He was nothing but despair and anger. My eema made many mistakes. She¡¯d hurt people. She¡¯d slaughtered so many... Because of His presence and promises, she¡¯d prioritized victory and His will over all else. He¡¯d declared everyone else sinners, that she was exacting divine justice.¡±
He stopped, breathing hard. He gently straightened up, placing the cross down before letting it go. She wasn¡¯t sure if it was an ability or something, but somehow the cross stood on its own, and Yeshua stumbled forward.
Ahead of them were the pillars, the misshapen things that stuck out of the ground like a bizarre forest. Was this the same areaJenny had been before Yeshua pulled her toward him? She wasn¡¯t sure. All the pillars looked virtually the same. Does Yeshua know what they are?
¡°The Deaths,¡± he said as if reading her mind. He wiped his brow and bowed his head, his wet hair falling forward. ¡°This is the world where it all began. With Death. This was why my eema made her sacrifice.¡±
Jenny tried to speak but the words felt too thick. She cleared her throat, unease slowly unraveling in her belly as she eyed the pillars. ¡°What happened to her?¡±
¡°My eema had a very powerful ability,¡± he said, straightening up and raising his face to the sky again. Red lightning flickered across his arms and down his legs. ¡°A healing ability that even He could not stop. She emerged from her challenge after seven nights, returning to her home covered in blood, her belly swollen.¡± He turned to face Jenny and held out his hand.
She blinked at it in confusion. The sheen of sweat had vanished from his face. The strain of carrying the cross was gone, and he had that healthy glow about him again.
¡°Take my hand,¡± he said. ¡°Allow me to show you my eema.¡±
¡°Okay?¡± whispered Jenny. She hesitated, but that earnest expression on his face made her want to trust him. Besides, if he''d meant harm, he wouldn''t have let her sleep in peace earlier. She reached out and placed her hand onto his much bigger hand.
He closed his other hand over hers and shut his eyes. For a while, nothing happened. She only felt the warmth of being encased in his hands, but then he uttered one word.
¡°See.¡±
And everything, Yeshua, the pillars, the dark sand, and the cross, faded away from view. A series of images filled Jenny¡¯s mind. It reminded her of the visions Eve would show her, but this was different. She lost all sense of self. She was a disembodied viewer observing as a young woman with brown skin and long dark hair stepped into view.
The girl wore red and golden armor. She carried a helmet in one hand. A long feather stuck out of it, but as she stumbled forward, the cracked parts of her armor, around her legs and her shoulders, broke away and fell. She was covered in dried blood, and she looked like she hadn¡¯t slept in days. She was Mary.
As people in flowing robes rushed to help, others pointed and shouted at the cluster of collapsed houses behind her. Her challenge must¡¯ve involved a bunch of homes, not just one building like Jenny¡¯s high school. But Mary fell to her knees, her eyes wide with fear, and a blood-curling scream tore through the vision.
The imagery stirred, and Mary was in a private room, lying on a bed on her back, her belly so big it looked like a whole person had crawled inside her body.
Women fretted all around. Priests in dark robes chanted as Mary shrieked at the top of her lungs, clawing at the sheets and the blankets, kicking aimlessly with her feet. Her legs were spread open, her tunic stained completely with blood. Red lightning flashed violently between her thighs, flickering over and over as the midwives and the other women cowered, as the priests tried chanting louder and louder, shaking sprigs of various herbs and sprinkling holy water.
But the lightning, red and intense, only lashed out more dangerously. It flickered across the entire home, and Jenny thought it would shatter everything around them. That it would leave scorch marks and burn the women and the priests to ashes, but there was no fire, no damage, nothing. And it went on for what felt like forever, all the while the woman screamed, her eyes bloodshot, her face ghastly, sunken in. She almost looked like a tarnished angel.
The midwife fled. The other women ran away. The priests cowered outside the home where a desperate-looking man paced back and forth. He was angry and terrified and shouted at the priests. He was the only one brave enough to go back inside. He held Mary¡¯s hand and stroked her sweat-drenched face as her body convulsed. As her legs kicked. As more red bolts of lightning erupted from between her legs. She only slept when she passed out, but the lightning continued to work. The man, who must¡¯ve been her husband, brought her water and bread, holding it to her lips, trying to get her to eat. Lightning sparked up and down her entire body, and Jenny understood what was happening.
Mary was refusing to give birth. She¡¯d emerged from her Survival Challenge, victorious and powerful, and she¡¯d become pregnant just as Jenny had. But Mary had been stronger. She¡¯d held on, using her ability to heal herself continuously, refusing to give birth to Him.
The images flickered with the light, and Jenny got the sense that days went by. Weeks and months and maybe even years. All the while, Mary struggled on the bed, screaming and screaming. Red lightning danced, her face contorted in pain, her legs kicked. She remained bedridden the entire time, her swollen belly rippling as the creature inside tried to tear its way through. The screaming. The crying. The pleading.
She could¡¯ve given in. She could¡¯ve just let it end. But she held on.
Why?
One night, Mary stopped screaming. She rose from the bed as though something had grabbed her by her swollen torso and lifted her up. The lightning flickered softly, and her husband called for the priests and the healers and the midwife. Anyone who might be able to help. But all they could do was watch as Mary¡¯s body levitated. Her eyes rolled back into her head. Her belly rippled violently. It almost looked like she¡¯d give birth, but something smoky, something shadowy, plumed out of her bellybutton instead.
It gushed out like the smoke billowing from a volcano during an eruption. Lightning crackled and sizzled and popped, and a face appeared in the smoke. A face that screamed and howled, as though trying to escape the smoke, but a wind blew through the home, and the smoke dissipated. The face faded away, and all at once, everything stopped.
Mary collapsed in bed. There was no more lightning. The priests and their dark robes looked in awe. The midwives rushed to her side. She cried out again and a deluge of blood gushed between her legs.
And there, curled up and red-faced and still attached to his mother by the umbilical cord, was a baby.
The images started fading as an exhausted Mary struggled, her eyes flickering to stay open, her body ragged and worn down and broken, her swollen belly deflated as more blood gushed from her insides. She held out her hand. One of the women wiped the baby down with a cloth. It wasn¡¯t crying. It looked bright and alert, its little hands and feet kicking as it turned its head every which way.
Mary nuzzled the baby into her arms. Wrinkles had formed deep grooves on her face. Her hair had turned gray and ashy. And even though she was bleeding, her lightning no longer worked. She held the baby to her chest and spoke in a raspy, choked whisper, ¡°Yeshua.¡±
With a shudder, Jenny came out of the vision. Her hand slipped out of Yeshua¡¯s, and she took a step back. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Yeshua was smiling. ¡°My eema was a strong woman. The First Mary.¡±
¡°Did I make a mistake?¡± whispered Jenny. She was shaking. ¡°Did I make a mistake by giving birth to Eve?¡±
¡°I do not think so,¡± said Yeshua. ¡°Eve and Adonai are not the same. Opposite forces maybe, but... we shall see. Our actions are irreversible. Right or wrong isn¡¯t the question anymore. We must focus on what we can do now.¡±
Jenny sniffled, her heart torn by what she¡¯d seen of Mary. ¡°Does this make me... the Second Mary? I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±
¡°You want to find your Susan, yes?¡±
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
¡°Then help me, Jenny Huang. Help me save Death and I will help you find your Susan.¡±
"How?" She looked at the pillars behind Yeshua; she couldn''t look him in the eyes. Her mind still swam with images of Mary, pregnant and engulfed in red lightning. It was the same lightning that Yeshua had. And what was that shadowy face that came out of Mary? Was that... Him?
And am I really the Second Mary?
What does that mean?
Her hand went to her belly, her fingertips pressing against skin through the chips and cracks in her armor.
Yeshua took a deep breath. "You have told me of an ability, an ability so rare that I believe it is unique in its expression. Unique in the woman manifesting such power for I have never seen or heard of such an ability in the hands of a mortal."
Jenny wiped her nose and sniffled. "Do you mean?" She raised her hand and used Valescent Light. Colors flared to life around her fingers. A golden aura emanated from her skin, and Yeshua looked at it with his eyebrows raised.
His lips twitched with the hint of a smile, but he shook his head. "While that is a very beautiful and warm blessing, something I have not seen in such a long time, it is not the ability I am referring to. This power is all your own."
She shook her hand free of the light. She knew which one he''d meant, but she''d hoped she was wrong. Her insides twisted. Fear crawled along the back of her neck.
"I believe you called it Severed Spirit."
73. The next stop is... (Nancy)
Every ounce of instinct in Nancy¡¯s body was screaming at her. This couldn¡¯t be real. This couldn¡¯t be happening. But even as her muscles and her limbs refused to accept the bodies and blood, the broken glass crunching beneath her feet, she felt a strange, cold sharpness. A clarity she¡¯d never felt before. There was no anxiety, no panicking, just a burning desire to get to the front of the train while keeping Amir safe, and getting outside.
She wanted to get to her kids. Jenny and Oliver. Were they safe? Were they in danger? The earthquake had to have brought them back. This was an act of God. But what are these angels? Were these things attacking her children too?
And her damn phone. It didn''t seem to be connecting now. She''d gotten a warbled call through before. She''d heard Henry''s voice. But nothing would load now. No texts would send. She couldn''t call for help. There was no more signal. Was that because of the earthquake? Was there a power outage on the surface too?
But these worries wouldn¡¯t help her, so she didn¡¯t worry. Her mind emptied of everything but her surroundings, and she put one foot in front of the other.
She tried not to slip on blood. Tried not to notice the carnage. Opening the heavy doors at the end of each train car was painful; it took too much arm strength to slide open. Then she had to hold it for Amir to get out, and her hands were injured already. The crossing between cars wasn¡¯t easy either. Once she¡¯d shut one door behind her, they were stuck in between cars, in the sweltering heat of the underground tunnel, in the dark, as all the train lights had finally gone out. If it weren¡¯t for their phones, they would¡¯ve been helpless.
There was a tiny gap between each car that they had to step over. She¡¯d been worried about Amir¡¯s legs being too short, but he¡¯d crossed well enough. Though he kept looking down in fear. After the second car they¡¯d gone through, an angel tried to attack from above as they moved into the next car.
Nancy spritzed the creature in the face with pepper spray then ducked as its arms swung blindly, the hissing and screaming hurting her ears as she pulled the next door open, hurried Amir inside, and followed as quickly as she could. Each breath was strained. Her ribs hurt so much, she was barely upright, but there wasn''t a moment to rest.
An angel was already in this train car, feasting on a man crying softly for help. Amir flashed it in the face with his phone''s light, and the creature scrambled to the far side of the car, screeching in pain, moving on all fours like some sort of demented zombie. It crawled out through a window, glass cutting into its hips and thin legs.
Footsteps followed along the metal ceiling. More hissing noises echoed around the tunnel, and Nancy stepped over bodies, making sure not to trip. If she fell again, she wasn''t sure she''d be able to get back up. She ignored the man who was crying softly and told Amir sternly to keep moving. The man wore a dress shirt and tie, and was lying on his side, eyes glossed over. The angel had torn into his side, exposing much of his guts, and Nancy knew he didn¡¯t have much time left. There was nothing she could do for him.
She tried to move quickly, but there was too much blood, too many bodies. And Amir was struggling to keep up. Their lights shone on torn chunks of flesh, teeth marks, and exposed bones. Streaks and hand prints of blood on poles and door windows and benches. But that wasn¡¯t even the worst part. It was the eyes.
People¡¯s eyes stared at nothing, glistening in every flicker of light. And the smell. It smelled like metal that had been sitting in the sun too long. She got the sense that the angels had attacked so quickly and suddenly. But there were too many people, too much prey, and they pounced from one to the other trying to gorge on as many as possible. Or were they just hunting for sport? Killing just because they could.
Some bodies had been trampled to death, shoe prints on their backs or faces. Others must¡¯ve gotten hurt in the initial earthquake, easy targets for the angels when the onslaught began. She wished she could cover Amir¡¯s eyes. She wished she could scoop him up and carry him out of this nightmare, but she needed his set of hands. They both had to be alert with their phones. That was the only thing keeping the angels at bay, and her pepper spray was almost out. She wished Henry was with her. Henry and his gun. Was this the ¡°just in case¡± he¡¯d had in mind?
It helped that Amir was quick. Even though he trotted along slowly behind her, whenever a ghastly face appeared at a broken window, he¡¯d cry out and shine the light right into their eyes. The angel would tumble off in a fit of screaming, shards of glass raining down in and outside of the car. The boy didn¡¯t seem too bothered by the bodies. Or if it did bother him, he didn¡¯t say anything. Maybe he thought it was a video game. Or a movie. Kids grew up watching much worse these days, she told herself. Or was she just trying to convince herself that things weren¡¯t as bad as they were?
What would happen once their phones died? Batteries didn¡¯t run forever. And what if the angels realize they could just shut their eyes or cover their faces? In a face-to-face fight, those things would tear Nancy apart.
Don¡¯t worry about that now. Calm. Stay calm.
They made it to the last train car, the very front of the entire train. But this final door wouldn¡¯t open no matter how hard Nancy shook the handle and yanked. It was locked from the inside. She shone her light through the window. This one was denser and darker than the other windows on the train, but Nancy could see the conductor.
A uniformed body lay slumped against the controls. He was missing most of one shoulder and arm, blood dripping from the wound. Nancy grimaced. Beyond him was the shattered front glass of the train; she¡¯d been hoping they could get into the conductor¡¯s room then out through his door.
Exasperated, she tried turning the handle again, but it wouldn¡¯t budge. She glanced to her right and left at the sliding doors. Could she pry them open? With her hand as injured as it was? With how weak she was? And all that noise would surely attract the angels right to them. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Her plan had come to a dead end, and her clarity was falling apart. It was too hard to think.
She was too aware of the footsteps above and the hissing echoing around the tunnel. At least the angels weren¡¯t inside the car with them. But... She wondered if she could crawl out through a broken window. If she could get the boy out that way. But it was no good. The glass would cut into them, and they¡¯d be an easy meal for the angels.
Did she really have any chance of surviving this? She squeezed her phone and glanced around the train car again, trying to find any possible escape route. They just had to get to the station ahead. Then they could get to the surface. To sunlight. And there¡¯d be more people there. Police officers. Firemen. Rescue operatives. Maybe even the National Guard. She just had to get there.
Maybe... an idea lit up Nancy¡¯s thoughts as her light shone on the opposite side of the train car. Between each car was that tiny gap, and it was a little more of a gap on either side of the hooks that connected the cars. There were large cables that prevented them from just stepping off the sides, but that gap beside the hook... they¡¯d have to squeeze through, but she was sure she could fit. She was thin and small, and the boy was even smaller. That was their best hope.
¡°C¡¯mon,¡± she said, hobbling briskly back the way they¡¯d come. Amir hurried after her, one hand on her skirt, the other hand aiming the phone behind him. A hand emerged from a window and squeezed jagged glass, drawing blood. The sheen of a forehead appeared next, but Nancy put it out of her mind. Her heart was pounding so hard, she felt it in her throat, and she focused as intently as she could on the door. Get to the door.
She slid it open, forearms straining, just as that angel climbed into the train car and went sprawling over a bench. ¡°You first,¡± she whispered, holding the door for Amir. Once they were in the gap, she shut the door before the angel could realize where they¡¯d gone. She held her breath.
Amir looked up at her with wide eyes. He puffed out his cheek and glanced at the doors. ¡°Are we moving back to Nana?¡±
She shook her head. ¡°We¡¯re going to drop down here. See the gap?¡±
She shone her light on the space between the two cars. A large metal hook and binding went across the center, but on either side of the hook was space. Glass clinked in the train car, and she hoped more angels had gone inside. She nudged the boy forward with one hand and gave his shoulder a squeeze. In the sweltering heat, it was difficult to breathe, and Amir kept clinging to her leg. He glanced down at the dark tracks below and shook his head.
¡°It¡¯s going to be alright,¡± she said, trying to stifle her own pounding sense of dread. She scanned the ceiling of the tunnel, keeping the light focused on the floor. That gave her enough visibility to make sure nothing was above them. Nothing would pop out from the train tops. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll go first. We¡¯re going to duck down under these cables, see? Then edge along the tunnel.¡±
The gap looked even tinier now. Shaking, she lowered herself till she was sitting on the metal ledge, lowering her feet into the space below. She ignored the horrifying image of getting stuck halfway, her head and upper body a buffet for the angels as her legs kicked uselessly. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Were there rats down there?
Filthy, disease-ridden rats?
Did rats really matter right now?
She sucked in her belly, wincing at the sharp pain in her ribs, then glanced assuredly at Amir. Holding onto train with her good arm, lowered her hips through the gap. She went lower and lower until her shoe felt the metal hardness of the railing. Never touch the third rail, she remembered. That¡¯s where the electricity ran, but she had no way of knowing which one was the third rail, and either way, nothing responded to the bottom of her shoe. Slowly, she let go of the train and stood on the rail.
She tried to smile encouragingly at Amir, most of her body beneath the train now. He shone his light into her face, and she squinted.
¡°Don¡¯t look,¡± she whispered, holding out her hand. ¡°Come one now. Nearly there.... yes. I got you.¡± He sat down on the edge just as she had. But instead of letting go, he held on. And she realized he couldn¡¯t jump. He was too short. He¡¯d trip on the rail and... She repositioned herself so he could slide off the train and onto her.
But as he threw his arms around her, his phone slipped from his grip and cluttered down to the bottom. She clutched his head to her chest as she knelt into the dark space, her heart pounding so hard, terrified the angels had heard the nose. The phone had landed face down, its light shining upward and illumining the metal underbelly of the train. She kicked it away, so that its light wouldn¡¯t be as visible, then she ducked beneath the cables, suppressing a groan as her bones protested, and made her way to the side of the train.
She wished there was enough space for them to crawl beneath the train. Even if it meant being on her hands and knees, crawling over the filthy railing. But there was no time for what ifs, and she slipped into the gap between the side of the train and the tunnel wall.
¡°I¡¯m setting you down,¡± she whispered as quietly as she could. The boy shook his head, but she had no choice. They couldn¡¯t move in this space if she was holding him; they had to flatten themselves against the wall.
Once she¡¯d set him down, she showed him her plan. She tucked her phone into her coat pocket, obscuring the light so that only a soft glow illuminated the metal skin of the train in front of them, and flattened herself against the tunnel wall. She ignored the crawling sense of filth, how dirty it must be, how she was ruining her hair and the back of her coat, but what did that matter. She stepped forward, the train in front of her, its unmoving metallic body looking like a gigantic insect.
Sucking in her breath, she heard a soft crackling in her lungs. Her knees burned as she extended her leg to the side before sliding her body forward. She motioned for Amir to follow, and he did the same as her. Flattening himself against the tunnel side and moving sideways, shuffling his feet with careful steps. If there was just a bit more space, the two of them could walk facing forward, but at least the windows were too high up for them to peer into the train car. She could hear angels scrambling inside. Could hear them hissing and sniffing.
Could they smell her?
Could they smell her fear?
She heard a loud thud somewhere behind them. It must¡¯ve been two train cars down. Were the angels leaving? Had they found someone else to eat? That didn¡¯t matter.
They moved slowly. Carefully. Continuing their sideways shuffling. One step to the side before the other foot slid over. The movement made her hips ache. Her hamstrings tightened. Her ribs were ready to pop out of their cage. But bit by bit, they made their way.
The angels must not know the two of them were off the train. Maybe they didn¡¯t understand. Or maybe the thick, disgusting stench of the tunnel, the pallid hot air, was masking them. As long as Nancy and the boy remained quiet, they could go. They could slip away unnoticed!
Her back and hips ached from their awkward movements. Her lungs burned. But they got to the front of the train car again, right below the conductor¡¯s window, and the tunnel opened ahead of them. They could face forward again and move...
She held her breath, too afraid to step out from their little compact space between the train and the tunnel wall. It was claustrophobic, but at least it was safe. The empty space ahead looked daunting. It was hardly visible, and the darkness opened like an enormous mouth. The tracks led to nothing.
But with every passing moment, every bead of sweat dripping down her back, she knew her phone was running out of battery. They were down to one phone now. They had to keep going.
She reached for Amir¡¯s hand, wincing as she tapped the tunnel wall twice before finding Amir¡¯s sleeve. Then, pulling him with her, she stepped out into the open space and sped away from the train without looking over her shoulder. She was careful to step between each of the tracks so that there would be no tapping sounds against the metal, and she hobbled as quickly as she could, forcing Amir to keep up.
His breaths came quick and shallow, and he was half running, but adrenaline pumped through Nancy¡¯s limbs. Her exhaustion and pain faded to a dull throbbing. They were going to make it. They were going to be just fine.
A short while later, after they¡¯d put five or so minutes of distance between themselves and the train, she heard a hiss that sent a chill shooting down her spine.
Her hope fell apart, and she froze. Amir bumped into her leg. This hiss was coming from up ahead.
Then there was another. And another. And Nancy pulled her phone out from her coat pocket, careful to cover the flashlight so as to not give away their position. She shook her pepper spray gently, trying to measure how much was left.
Not enough. There wasn¡¯t enough. Amir clung close to her, and she dragged him along, holding her breath as the hissing sounds grew louder, as another sound became terribly clear.
Chewing. Chewing and tearing and swallowing.
A dim, eerie glow came into view. She¡¯d hoped the station would be more brightly lit, but it must¡¯ve lost power too. The rock face of the tunnel walls gave away to cold, white tiles. A strip of green tiles ran along the center stating the station¡¯s name in big, bold letters. 57th Street, Lexington Avenue. Her phone vibrated, and she almost dropped it. Her eyes went wide. Her heart pounded in her ears as she realized she had a connection again.
She tapped on the screen, struggling to unlock it as the notification bar kept popping up.
Where are you???
Are you okay?
Nancy!
Nancy pick up
What ix going on:?
There were dozens like that from Henry. But then, the worst notification, and it flashed by so quickly she wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d seen it: Ollie¡¯s at the hospital. Heading there right now.
The trains are stuck. The mta¡¯s not updting shit.
Nancy!
We¡¯re at Mnhattan hope fgeneral
NAncy, please respond
They wn''t let me insde
There were endless miss calls from Henry, from coworkers and friends and family, from numbers she didn¡¯t recognize. But tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision, and the light and colors on the screen blurred into a meaningless blob.
She blinked them away. I can¡¯t cry yet. I have to get out of here. Oliver¡¯s safe. And Jenny... Jenny. Where¡¯s Jenny?
Trying to recompose herself, she lowered her phone, ignoring the vibrations and the oncoming notifications, ignoring the desperate need to call Oliver¡¯s number and then Jenny¡¯s and then Henry¡¯s. She stepped forward.
As the station came into view, she spotted an angel on the tracks ahead. It was on all fours, feeding on someone. Two more angels were on the station platform.
Blood dripped steadily onto the tracks, but Nancy eyed the little service stairwell on the side. They¡¯d have to climb that, cross the station platform, and get through the turnstiles. Then they could bolt up the main stairs to the surface. She could almost feel the sunlight on her skin. The lungful of fresh, clean air. Then she could respond to her messages. Then she could call her husband and her children. And she could help Amir find his family.
They were so close.
So close that it ached. She took Amir¡¯s hand and whispered, ¡°We¡¯re gonna run for the stairs.¡±
He nodded, looking determined. If only he had his phone, she thought.
She swallowed hard and went up the steps, counting each one to keep her mind focused. One... two... three... at twelve, as soon as her feet were on the platform, she shouted, ¡°Hey!¡±
The angels whipped their heads around, most of them on all fours, the whites of their eyes focused on her. They bared their stained teeth and hissed, all attention on her. Perfect.
She raised her phone, bringing the flashlight up, shining it right into all those bony, blood-covered faces.
The result was immediate shrieking. Hissing and screeching echoed all around as the angels scrambled to get away. Nancy led Amir up the stairs, picking up her pace, keeping her light pointed forward. Two of the angels ran up the tracks, to the safety of the darkness ahead. The other went for the turnstiles, spilling over it and onto the other side.
She swore silently; it was blocking off their exit. Its thin limbs flailed as it ran headfirst into the metro card kiosk with a loud crack. It scrambled away on all fours, clawing at its face, nearly tripping as it bounded over several bodies before hitting the stairwell. A shout came from above, a human shout.
Three shots rang out, nearly in unison, sounding like claps of thunder, and the angel screamed. Nancy dropped down and pulled Amir against her, holding him tight until her ears stopped ringing. She glanced behind her, making sure nothing was sneaking up on them, then glanced at the angel that tried to go up the stairs.
It lay on the steps, a bullet hole in its forehead and another in its shoulder, oozing blood.
Hope, warmer and more powerful than before, filled Nancy¡¯s chest as she stood up, still holding Amir. Adrenaline surged through her legs as she ran for the stairwell. She could already hear hissing echoing in the tunnel behind her. But that didn¡¯t matter. There were people up there. People with weapons. They were safe.
Amir shouted something she couldn¡¯t fully hear. She ran as fast as her legs could go. She stepped over the bleeding angel and looked up at the long flight of stairs, at the top where sunlight was leaking through the entrance, when another shot rang out.
¡°Hold your fire! Hold your fire! She¡¯s a civilian!¡± roared a voice. Everything blurred and echoed around her. The light dimmed. Shadows darted around her. She turned instinctively to the side, trying to shield Amir with her body.
Nancy felt like she¡¯d been punched in the thigh. Amir cried out, and she fell to her knees, still holding Amir. Something hot and wet ran down her leg.
I¡¯ve been shot...
I¡¯ve been shot!
Something grabbed her foot and yanked. Nancy let Amir go as her chin and elbows bounced on several steps. She screamed, trying to grab onto something, as the pain in her leg felt like something was ripping her in half. Amir reached down and grabbed her arm, and she screamed at him to run.
The shadows from above swarmed closer and closer. Blue uniforms. Frightened faces. Flashlights. More shots rang out. Like cannon fire echoing in the stairwell. The static of walkie-talkies rang through her head like electricity. Crackling voices. Urgent call outs.
Whatever had grabbed her foot let go. Screeching and hissing and shouting erupted at the foot of the stairwell; she couldn¡¯t tell what was human or what was angel, but she grabbed the collar of the nearest officer as they tried to help her.
¡°Manhattan Hope,¡± choked Nancy. Her vision faltered. Her ears throbbed from the loud shots. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was screaming or whispering. She wasn''t sure if her leg was still attached. ¡°My son... take me to him right now.¡±
74. Cracks in the salt
¡°Place your hand on the pillar,¡± called Yeshua from somewhere behind Jenny. He was keeping his distance. Not much, but there was enough space between them to make her worry. What was he expecting would happen?
She stared at the pillar. It was dark and glassy, its edges and faces sculpted to encase a body. She wondered who was inside. Were they an adult? A teenager? Old and wrinkled? It didn¡¯t really matter. Whoever was inside would register as ¡°Death¡± and they¡¯d be terrified, their guts twisting out of them, attached to the pillar.
What was she even supposed to do? Yeshua had noted her Severed Spirit, and she¡¯d tried explaining that all it did was turn off pain. Well... she¡¯d fumbled the explanation as she hadn¡¯t completely understood what it did, only that she didn¡¯t feel anything. And that she stopped being a normal human. And that no matter how much damage to her body, she could keep moving, keep fighting. It was just a monstrous defense mechanism.
Except she was already a desecrated human. What would the ability do now?
¡°You¡¯ll understand once you try it,¡± was all Yeshua had said. ¡°Push the usage outward. Beyond yourself. Sever something other than yourself and let¡¯s see what happens.¡± He was so determined, she couldn¡¯t even snap at him. There was an almost childlike hope in his eyes, and the wrinkles around them, the smiling wrinkles... she¡¯d almost forgotten the emaciated man who¡¯d begged her to kill him on the cross. He stepped away and motioned for her to approach a pillar as several more burst out of the ground.
She got the sense that Yeshua enjoyed teaching. He¡¯d rather watch people try things than tell them outright. Like how he¡¯d told her to attempt making food with the system instead of simply explaining.
That way, you can¡¯t deny what happens.
It¡¯s a trick.
Jenny clenched her jaws and shut her eyes. Her thoughts were spinning and spinning, and fear flickered between her lungs like a breath of cold air. Her palms were sweating; she didn¡¯t want to touch the pillar.
But that was all she had to do. She didn¡¯t need to use light or fire; she didn¡¯t have to see what was inside. It would just be like touching a rock. She inhaled deeply through her nose as Yeshua called encouragingly to her. Again, she wondered why he was so far away. Why not come and watch? This was his idea after all.
Is he afraid of something?
Is this a trap? Why am I listening to him anyway?
He promised to help me find Susan.
Jenny raised her hand, her arm trembling. She stared at the cracked blue scales covering her forearm and shoulders. Chipped and dirty, patches of pale skin poking through. She reached for the pillar.
¡°You have to use both hands!¡± called Yeshua. ¡°Place both hands on either side of the pillar and cast yourself out of your body.¡±
She dropped her arm and looked back at him. ¡°If you know so much about this, why can¡¯t you do it yourself?
¡°My healing ability, my Eema¡¯s gift, while powerful, cannot do what you can. But I promise you. You can do this.¡±
¡°Why are you so far away then?¡±
¡°Death is a scary thing!¡± he called back.
Is he... is he making a joke at a time like this? Jenny bit her lip and turned to face the pillar again. Another one burst out to her left like a swiftly growing tree made of dark rock. Just get it over with.
She stepped forward and brought both hands to the pillar¡¯s sides. It almost felt like she was touching someone¡¯s face, cupping their warm cheeks. She tried to picture Susan. Her blue hair and her soft smile, but all she saw was Susan¡¯s corpse lying lifeless on the cafeteria floor. Jenny recoiled and stepped back.
Her hands shook as she stared at her fingers. They tingled with warmth; the pillars had that strange warmth that made them feel alive.
¡°You¡¯re doing great,¡± said Yeshua.
She knew he was trying to be helpful, but his words were not helping in the slightest. Fear unfurled in her belly. She couldn¡¯t shake the memories of looking inside the pillars, using her light, and seeing the Deaths. She couldn¡¯t get Susan¡¯s body out of her head. But she¡¯d felt something when she touched the pillar. She was sure of it. Trying to tune out all her thoughts and Yeshua¡¯s voice, Jenny tried again.
She placed her hands on the pillar again, this time determined to hold on and try what Yeshua wanted her to try. Her armored foot slid back so she could brace herself. Salt crunched between the toes of her bare foot, but she tightened her core and held onto the pillar. She shut her eyes and concentrated.
This time, she didn¡¯t picture Susan. Instead, Jenny visualized the person inside the pillar. How they must feel. Alone, trapped and miserable. Feeling completely stuck with no chance of anything better.
Jenny knew those feelings all too well. ¡°I¡¯ll help you,¡± she promised softly. ¡°I don¡¯t know how, but I will.¡± She leaned forward and rested her forehead against the pillar. She wasn¡¯t sure if that was instinct or some subconscious thing she wanted to do, but she relaxed. Warmth radiated through her, and she sucked in another deep breath before reaching for the skill she never wanted to use again.
Last time, she¡¯d snapped. She¡¯d completely lost control of herself. Something had burst open inside her and taken over and all she could do was surrender to blood lust. Would that happen again?
No, she assured herself. Not this time. It was just like with Yeshua¡¯s foot. How she¡¯d gotten the Blooded status again. How she¡¯d love the taste of flesh. She was desecrated and didn¡¯t have an exoskeleton. She didn¡¯t have those tentacles. She didn¡¯t have to lose control. Didn''t have to be a monster.
It won¡¯t happen again.
This time... this time...
She remembered Yeshua¡¯s words. To focus outwards. Project her Severed Spirit outwards. But how?
How?
For a long time, maybe it was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours and hours, Jenny kept her forehead against the pillar, her hands on its sides. Her palms and fingertips hurt from how hard she was gripping it. And then it came to her. How to do it. How to use it. How to set the Death inside free.
Severed spirit, she thought with a quiet sigh. Her focus shifted to the tactile senses of pressing against the pillar, the warmth of it.
Out of my body, she repeated under her breath. Out of my body. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
It started as a tingling sensation, as though she¡¯d been sitting on her hands for too long and they¡¯d fallen asleep. She didn¡¯t make a sound. She maintained contact, maintained focus. An ache formed between her eyebrows, like someone was trying to shove something sharp into her skull.
Then it spread. She was cracking. Her face was cracking open, and she was terrified of what would come out. But she inhaled deeply and tried to maintain composure. Yeshua said something, but the sensation was overbearing. Her brain felt like a wet towel being wrung out. Her mind twisted. She got the horrible sense she was cutting something ancient. Something sacred. But it was an easy movement. It was something natural. Something that longed to be separated. Something that was never meant to be stuck.
And then the sensation spilled outward. Her knees almost buckled. The sensation came out of her, flowing into the pillar, and bright light blossomed inside it. She could see the light through her eyelids, but she didn¡¯t dare open her eyes. Didn¡¯t dare lose concentration. Whatever this was, it felt fragile and delicate. If she stopped focusing for even the slightest moment, it would reverse and shatter her instead.
Severed Spirit: (tier 2)
System Warning: Severed Spirit (tier 2) is a restricted skill.
(Guidance System Error)
Existential Error
Existential Error
Severed Spirit (tier 2): Sever the metaphysical bonds -
Existential Error
Natural Order Corruption
A shudder went down her spine so violently, she almost collapsed. A whimper struggled in her throat. Her thoughts filled with a series of notifications, but she¡¯d had something like this before. Back when she¡¯d lost herself. Back when she¡¯d become Desecrated. Back when she¡¯d...
CRACK!
It sounded like a tree splintering. Like the earth splitting open. But it brought her back to focus. The notifications faded away. Her breathing came quicker, shallower. Her heart pounded in her chest as sweat trailed down the sides of her temples. Then she felt warmth, a strange, jubilant warmth concentrating right above her eyes.
Her forehead was pressed against something warm. It wasn¡¯t as hard as the pillar, but there was a fleshy kind of firmness... she knew without looking that it was someone else¡¯s forehead, except it was too hot. It was burning hot. Did they have a fever? Did she have a fever?
The pillar cracked and fell away from her hands. After another series of cracks and the sounds of falling debris, Jenny opened her eyes to find the pillar had opened. Half a person stuck out of it, their lower body was still encompassed by the dark rock, but their intestines no longer stuck out. They were whole. Jenny¡¯s forehead was pressed against theirs, and she looked them in the eyes.
Death (level 0)
It was a girl. Older than Jenny and with dark brown skin, her eyes swam with tears. Her lips quivered as though she so badly wanted to speak. Their noses touched, and Jenny blushed, stepping back as the rest of the pillar fell away from the girl¡¯s hips.
Jenny¡¯s forehead throbbed. Her nose stung. Her fingers and arms ached as though she¡¯d been hanging from a pull-up bar for too long. The girl stood in the crumbling pillar, breathing hard, not even trying to cover her nudity. She raised her tear-stricken face to the dark sky and let out a wail before sinking to the ground.
She grasped a fistful of salt, the powdery salt that had once encased her in a pillar, and slumped forward. Her long hair hid her face as her bare shoulders shook. As she clutched her stomach and cried.
In a hoarse voice, a voice that sounded so torn and pained, the girl whispered, ¡°Thank you,¡± before breaking down into loud, gut-wrenching sobs.
Yeshua bounded toward her. He kicked away a few large chunks that remained of the pillar, disintegrating them with each blow. Then he knelt beside her, placing a hand on her head. He shook his other hand free of his sleeve and held out an exposed forearm, the same way he''d offered his flesh to Jenny before. ¡°Eat,¡± he whispered in a gentle voice. ¡°Eat and you shall be free once more.¡±
The girl looked up, tears streaming down her face. Her bottom lip wobbled as she clutched Yeshua¡¯s arm with both hands. She glanced at him again, as if asking permission, and when he nodded, she sank her teeth into his flesh as though she was biting into a corn cob.
Jenny turned away, hugging herself. She was shaking too, the urge to cry simmering beneath the surface of her thoughts. She didn¡¯t want to just cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to wail and lash out and destroy everything around her, but tears didn¡¯t escape her eyes. She bit down on her lip.
Something felt wrong inside her. Or did it feel right? She couldn¡¯t tell. Something had changed when she used Severed Spirit like that. All those notifications... The skill had even reached a new tier. She¡¯d gotten... stronger? Was this strength? And what had she severed? What was it that she felt between the pillar and the girl inside, the Death who was now level 1? To sever metaphysical bonds.
Jenny pulled up her stats, trying to see if anything had changed:
Jenny Huang
Desecrated Human (level 30) (existential error)
(blooded) (awaiting metamorphosis)
Age: 6,802 days
stats:
Power: 30
Stamina: 25
Durability: 20
Agility: 25
Stat points available: 62
Energy available: 4706
Bloodlust Ecstasy
Energy Cores (2)
Nothing. It was the same except now she had the Blooded detail. She hadn¡¯t changed at all. She was still a Desecrated Human.
But she¡¯d hoped. A small part of her had hoped that this would¡¯ve reversed what she¡¯d become, and as she struggled with that hope, there was a flash of golden light behind her.
She turned back to find Yeshua helping the girl to her feet. She wore a purple robe of her own now, and her brown face seemed to shine with warmth. A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her lips, but she either didn¡¯t notice or she didn¡¯t care. She was smiling. ¡°Thank you, Mother.¡±
¡°I¡¯m not your...¡±
¡°She means your title,¡± said Yeshua gently, placing a hand on Jenny¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You are the new Mary. And notice now you are not speaking the language of light.¡±
Jenny was about to respond to the Mary thing, but she sputtered. She licked the back of her teeth. She touched her throat. He was right. She hadn¡¯t been hissing. Neither did Yeshua or the girl. But what language was this?
¡°This is the Language of Death,¡± explained Yeshua. ¡°As the angels have their language, so do the Deaths, born into this world a blessing.¡±
¡°What are they?¡± asked Jenny, cutting him off. ¡°What is she?¡± She almost apologized for being so blunt when the death looked up, but the girl bowed her head.
¡°I am Death,¡± she said.
¡°I know that,¡± said Jenny, trying to remain patient and not snap at the girl who¡¯d been trapped inside a pillar for an eternity. ¡°But...¡±
¡°Perhaps I can shed some light on that,¡± said Yeshua. ¡°What is it that people, our people from our world, fear the most?¡±
Jenny bit her lip. How was he answering her question with another question? She watched the girl move around. She was trying out her legs. Swirling her purple robes and then hopping in place. Jenny rubbed her forehead. ¡°I guess people are afraid to die. They¡¯re afraid of death.¡±
¡°Very much so,¡± said Yeshua. ¡°And what is the promise of faith? Of obedience?¡±
¡°That...¡± Memories of Sunday school flooded her mind again. ¡°That we will be rewarded with an eternal life. Paradise.¡±
¡°Exactly,¡± he said, an intensity shining through his voice as he raised a finger to highlight his words. ¡°Eternal life. That is the false promise made to those who believe His will. But do you know what I say to that? Folly. Folly upon those who accept such foolishness as an antidote to their fear. And what do they fear? Death is not something to fear. Death is a part of who we are. Why are our people taught to fear themselves?¡±
Jenny stared. Her mother would hate this guy. Everyone at her parent¡¯s church would hate this guy.
Yeshua was about to speak again, but light drew both of their attention. The girl knelt by a shorter pillar. She pressed her brown hands to its sides and pressed her forehead against the pillar, just as Jenny had done earlier. And the salt began to glow.
The salt brightened the same way her arm did when she used Valescent Light. Streams of reds and yellows, vibrant greens and purples seemed to shiver through the pillar and then there was another loud crack. A series of cracks, and with the light, Jenny could see inside the pillar, could see the little boy whose intestines curled back into his body. As the salt crumbled away, as the skin across his belly healed, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the girl¡¯s, and started to sob loudly.
Jenny shuddered as the girl hugged the boy. She remembered how hot the girl¡¯s skin had been. Was the boy just as warm? Were all the Deaths this warm? For some reason, she thought they should¡¯ve been ice cold, like the ghosts she¡¯d always hear about in stories.
"Humans are beings of three parts, Jenny," said Yeshua, rolling up his sleeves. "Our Vessels, which contain our beings in material form. Our Deaths, through them we return to the source. And our Souls."
"Souls?"
"Our Souls," he said, walking over to the boy. "Our expression of self. What makes us people. That is what they''ve stolen from us. And that is what we must fight to reclaim."
75. Enhanced Armor
As Deaths awoke other Deaths, golden light blossomed around Jenny, brightening the gloomy world. Tendrils of colors, bright reds, vivid blues, yellows and purples and greens, and every color in between, unfurled from each pillar and reached toward the sky. The pillars crumbled and fell away, and, one by one, Deaths stumbled out from their containment, crying and shouting and needing to be consoled. Jenny couldn¡¯t keep watching. Her mind spun with what Yeshua said about Deaths and Souls, and the light made her heart ache.
Why? She didn¡¯t really know. Why did she want to cry? Why did she want to scream? She thought it might¡¯ve been because she¡¯d used Severed Spirit again, but this felt deeper. A primal urge to claw her emotions out of her chest and... was it the light? Was the light making her feel like this?
It was similar to Valescent Light, but that couldn¡¯t be the reason. There was something else to it. Something that called to every single hurt Jenny had known since she¡¯d been born. It called to the helpless feeling a baby might have, crying and screaming into the unknown, hoping someone would pick it up.
Jenny turned away from the spreading light while Yeshua fed each newborn Death. Her shoulders were trembling, and there was a feeling in her throat she didn¡¯t like. A salty bump she couldn¡¯t swallow.
She decided it would be a good opportunity to finally go over her stats and apply her waiting points. Why she¡¯d been procrastinating on them, she didn¡¯t know. But she supposed she¡¯d always been like that. Playing games on hard mode. Playing life on nightmare. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Saving up potions or points or whatever, so that by the time she got to the final bosses, she¡¯d have way too many things and nothing to really show for it. Even Eve had called her out for it.
She¡¯d gone through her entire life with a voice snarling in the back of her mind: Why try? Look at you. Why try?
And now that voice had a face. It was her own. A monstrous, ugly face that only wanted to consume, consume, consume, and she swore she wouldn¡¯t let that come out again. She¡¯d been afraid of that happening, losing control and¡. But she¡¯d eaten the foot. She¡¯d used Severed Spirit. She¡¯d set free a Death.
Why was she able to do that anyway? The Death had woken another pillar. And then each Death went on to wake up another. How were they doing it? They couldn¡¯t also be using Severed Spirit, could they? Or was there some similarity between Severed Spirit and something that came naturally to Deaths? Or was it because she¡¯d been so close to death herself?
Let¡¯s not go there.
Focus on the numbers.
She had 62 points waiting.
62.
That number seemed way too high, but she¡¯d leveled up several times, and she¡¯d ranked up. Or at least¡. She should¡¯ve been human stage iii. What would the notifications have looked like if she¡¯d reached that level without severed spirit? Things would¡¯ve been clearer. Easier. Jenny sighed.
15 into each stat. That seemed like the most even way to split everything. That gave her 2 remaining points that she could use later. This time, remembering how it felt when she¡¯d added a large number of stat points, she braced herself for the changes.
Jenny Huang
Desecrated Human (level 30) (existential error)
(blooded) (awaiting metamorphosis)
Age: 6,802 days
stats:
Power: 45
Stamina: 40
Durability: 35
Agility: 40
Stat points available: 2
Energy available: 4706
Bloodlust Ecstasy
Energy Cores (2)
Her muscles flexed; her entire body clenched. A tingling sensation shot up from her fingers to her elbows as though she¡¯d hit her funny bone, and warmth blossomed across her back. What felt like a cramp ignited in her sides, and she cried out softly. But then her toes readjusted on the salty ground. Her stance shifted slightly, and she stood taller. This wasn¡¯t the dizzying, intense reaction she¡¯d experienced before when increasing her stats.
As quickly as it had started, the tenseness faded away, and she exhaled. Maybe she¡¯d gotten used to it. Or maybe the changes would be more subtle now. She placed her hand on her stomach, feeling the taut firmness of her abs. Then, after taking several deep breaths, she opened her eyes to find the world even brighter than before. It felt like the sun was rising behind her. Golden light made the dark barren expanse seem much less imposing, and her shadow stretched far ahead. It was strange seeing her shadow, and all the light behind her, the darkness ahead, it finally hit her that she was in another world. She wasn¡¯t on earth.
She rubbed her face. Her armor responded almost instinctively. The dirty blue scales rolled away from her knuckles and her wrists, revealing her dirty hands. Salt and dried liquid and blood stuck to her skin, but she didn¡¯t care. They shimmered in the golden and colorful light. She let the armor peel away further, exposing her pale forearms and her elbows. Ever since she¡¯d had an exoskeleton, it felt like she had better control over the things she made. All she had to do was picture it, and it happened.
Looking down at her arms, brushing aside the bits of dead armor ¨C and it was dead, she realized, remembering how the armor was organic. The parts that had been cracked and broken by the Ghouls died on their own, losing their blue luster and feeling like crumbling autumn leaves She peeled the armor off to admire the outline of her muscles. Her forearms, her biceps, even the way her arm moved in her shoulder socket felt so strange. She remembered nearly failing gym one term because her class was doing weight training and she couldn¡¯t do a single pull-up. Her gym teacher had been so disappointed. Jenny shook her head, balling her fingers into a fist and staring at the way her tendons moved.
She didn¡¯t feel much of a size difference, but she was definitely stronger. Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched out her arms and rolled her head from side to side. She straightened her shoulders back and focused on her breath. Away from the hell of the high school and the nonstop chase by the angels, she could appreciate how her body had changed. Had she ever felt this good? Had she ever felt so capable? When she took a step, everything just felt right. Like she could be more purposeful. Like she could do anything.
Her skin was tougher. Her flesh firmer. Her body felt light and free. Maybe if I¡¯d been this strong earlier, everything would¡¯ve ended differently.
Maybe if I¡¯d just listened to Eve and¡
And what? Killed the other kids? Got more experience by hunting other people? Like Miriam?
No¡
Groaning, she rubbed her face. Her breathing had quickened; her head was hurting. Something felt wrong inside of her, but she didn¡¯t know what. It started when she¡¯d used Severed Spirit while fighting Miriam. When she¡¯d lost control. She¡¯d felt it the entire time, hadn¡¯t she? That urge to kill. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Kill. Kill. Kill.
A shudder twisted its way up her spine, and Jenny tried to shift her thoughts. She had to make new armor. She¡¯d been hesitant to address the system this entire time. To use her stats and her Energy. They felt ill-gotten. Like she¡¯d stolen them or done something worse. But Yeshua pushed her to try making food, and the memory of that made her want to wretch again.
But she couldn¡¯t keep wallowing in the despair. She couldn¡¯t keep feeling sorry for herself. If the Ghouls attacked again, or whenever something attacked again, she didn¡¯t want to be caught off guard again.
Enhanced Armor will cost 1500 Energy. A full body armor that mitigates impacts and is resistant to pressure.
¡°Sounds good,¡± she whispered as more sobbing and crying erupted in the distance behind her. How many Deaths were they going to set free? And there must be millions¡ billions of Deaths. Could Yeshua even feed them all?
Golden light of her own shimmered around her limbs. It sparkled and shone, enveloping her torso and her chest, spiraling down each of her legs. The crumbling blue and gray armor dissolved away, and light danced across her pale skin. She glanced down to see she hardly recognized her body.
She couldn¡¯t see her ribs anymore. Her legs weren¡¯t thin and fragile-looking. Her shoulder felt wider, her hips looked wider, and her muscles glistened with strength.
It made her head spin to see herself like this. She had the body of a movie star or a model; it felt unreal. How many times did she promise herself she¡¯d eat better? Cut down on the chips and chocolate. Go for more walks. Work out. She¡¯d been saving all that for when she moved out on her own, when she got to university. There, away from the suffocation of her home life, she¡¯d be able to progress. That was what she¡¯d told herself.
If there was any good that came from this whole nightmare, at least she¡¯d finally gotten into better shape. The light hardened, flashing with green light before turning blue. And this was a darker shade of blue than before. Red mixed into the color, and Jenny wondered about her Exoskeleton. It was still there. When she focused on her belly button, she could just about feel a strange tickle as though it was just waiting to burst out.
Activate Exoskeleton?
The notification made her want to spit. No.
She pushed the thought away and continued forming her armor, imagining it firmly in her mind, bringing it to life. How the red would go beneath the blue armor, giving it an almost purple look. How the scales would be smaller but layered, the entire armor streamlined.
And another memory surfaced. Why Eve had found her in the first place ¨C how Jenny created half a minor potion to heal Susan¡¯s leg when she didn¡¯t have enough Energy for a full potion. Eve said that had been remarkable, bending the system to her will, but she hadn¡¯t really done anything like that since. Unless¡ unless she counted Severed Spirit. That skill had triggered such a bizarre response from the system after all.
Natural Order Corruption.
But she didn¡¯t feel as though this was something special or even unique. If the system could create anything that could be imagined, then why couldn¡¯t anyone imagine half of anything? Why couldn¡¯t they create any kind of skill or ability?
Or was it just that most people didn¡¯t bother trying?
Blue scales spread across her skin, covering nearly her entire body. It came up to her throat and the bottom of her jaws. It reached her ears and went up the back of her neck. It came down to her fingertips and her toes, fitting snugly around her legs and between her thighs. It hugged her waist and ribs tightly. The armor almost felt like a layer of thermals, except it was dense. Dense and solid, and it reminded her of that desecrated angel¡¯s exoskeleton. That bluish metallic thing that she¡¯d had to break through before she could hurt the angel.
When the light dimmed, Jenny turned to see a small crowd of people gathering. Well, her first instinct was to think they were people, but their notifications, and each one was the same, Death (Level 0), gave them away.
Looking at them now didn¡¯t give her that frightening, run away feeling anymore, but it was still odd. Some of the Deaths were on the ground naked, crying and sobbing. Others held them as Yeshua went around offering his arm as sustenance. He created purple robes for them to wear, and he went from Death to Death, reminding Jenny of a hummingbird flitting in a flower garden.
But something about him felt off. He didn¡¯t bound across the ground anymore. He was limping. Jenny took a few steps closer, aware of the clearing they¡¯d made in the pillars, aware that more pillars were rising around them, but something about Yeshua was wrong. And when she got close enough, she saw what it was.
Yeshua was shrinking. He was losing weight, deteriorating with each Death that he helped. His face was gaunt again. His eyes had sunken in and bags weighed down on his cheeks. But he smiled when he noticed her.
¡°I like the new look. It suits you.¡± He sounded breathless.
Jenny nodded, feeling a tiny bit bashful. The new armor was darker, more conforming to her body. This one had been designed with less emotion and more tact. It hugged her muscles tightly and made her feel like a spy in a big-budget movie and the new color was sleek. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, but she was more concerned about him. ¡°Are you okay?¡±
¡°Me?¡± He wicked back his sweaty hair. ¡°I am exactly where I want to be, and this is all thanks to you, Jenny. For freeing me. For freeing death. Existence owes you a debt it cannot repay with a thousand worlds. I should very much like to see the look on Azra¡¯il¡¯s face when he realizes what has happened.¡±
¡°Azra¡¡¯il?¡± The name sounded evil to Jenny, like it was something she ought to know, and a weird creepy sensation crawled along her sides. It was the same feeling she¡¯d get when looking at skeletons; disturbed.
¡°Azra¡¯il is the Archangel in charge of the Afterlife,¡± said Yeshua, his lips curling. ¡°He is the reason Death has been sequestered to these pillars of salt. He rips Souls as they pass from the Material World to the Garden, ensuring that the cycle of our lives can never reach completion.¡±
Jenny¡¯s head was hurting again, and fear laced her every heartbeat. The archangel of death? There was an angel assigned to death? And something about the way Yeshua spoke of him made her think that this Azra¡¯il was powerful. ¡°Is he like... Is he what comes after a Desecrated Angel?¡±
¡°No,¡± said Yeshua, shaking his head. A Death came up to him, a young girl, and pulled on his robe. He smiled kindly at her, lowering his shaking hand to pat her head. ¡°He¡¯s much worse. The tarnished are angels are distortions of their true selves. True angels cannot advance in stages like you or I through trial and triumph. They are light. They are not meant to grow. So, what do they do?¡±
Jenny didn¡¯t need him to explain. She knew by the sick feeling in her gut. ¡°They eat people.¡±
¡°They eat people,¡± he repeated solemnly. The young girl Death dashed away, her purple robe billowing. ¡°But this way, they can maintain control over their minds. They can harness the ability of their light and the Energy of the worlds and¡¡± Yeshua slumped, teetering like he was about to collapse, and Jenny dashed forward. She placed her hand on his chest to catch him.
He even seemed shorter now. Only a bit taller than Jenny. He looked ill. Jenny tried to steady him as she glanced at the Deaths. A crowd of them, maybe thirty or forty people, stared at Yeshua with concern on their faces. There was a cost to this. That was why they¡¯d stopped. Yeshua couldn¡¯t go on feeding them forever without rest. His healing ability wasn¡¯t free. How had he fed so many already?
Jenny helped sit Yeshua down before conjuring a bottle of water. He blinked at it, his eye twitching, and she realized he¡¯d probably never seen plastic before. What did they use to carry water back in his day? Did that really matter now?
¡°Drink,¡± she said, mimicking how he¡¯d commanded her to eat before.
He smiled gratefully, the wrinkles around his eyes so deep, the expression looked like it hurt. Then he drank deeply, the bottle crinkling in his grip, and Jenny took the pause to ask the question burning a hole in her mind.
¡°Will I find Susan¡¯s Death here?¡±
Yeshua lowered the bottle, water dribbling into his beard. He nodded as he swallowed. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°She has died so her Death is here somewhere. But her Death will not recognize you.¡±
Her heart sank at his words. ¡°So, I have to find her Soul?¡±
¡°Her Soul houses all her memories,¡± he said. Once he¡¯d finished the water, he remained seated, taking in a deep breath. Color returned to his skin, but he still looked hungry. Weakened.
Should she¡ should I offer a bit of my arm? Would that help?
¡°Azra¡¯il is the one collecting the Souls. We must find¡¡± He trailed off. Before Jenny could ask what was wrong, his eyes went wide, and he grabbed her arm. The bottle fell to the ground. ¡°They¡¯re coming.¡±
¡°What?¡±
¡°Again! They¡¯re coming again!¡± He snapped his head toward the Deaths as he used Jenny to pull himself up. ¡°Nobody move! Don¡¯t move one bit. Just stand still! Just stay right there and they won¡¯t harm you. Let them come to me. I will¡¡± His voice broke.
He turned to grab Jenny, dropping his voice to a horrible whisper. ¡°I can¡¯t protect them all like this.¡± Saliva flicked out with his words. He looked crazed. Upset. He wasn¡¯t blinking at all, and redness spread across his eyes. A sob had snuck into his voice.
He sounded the way he had when she¡¯d first met him on the cross. When he¡¯d begged her to kill him. And she knew what was coming. The Ghouls.
Jenny swallowed hard. She glanced at the Deaths who were exchanging frightened glances. There were too many of them. Some of them old. Some of them just kids. One even was a toddler, held in the arms of the first Death that Jenny had freed. They looked helpless. And all of them were level 0. They wouldn¡¯t be able to fight.
The ground began to bubble. It was frothing and rolling, like an angry ocean on a stormy day. There must be more than before. Everywhere around her, the white liquid seeped out, and it would be a matter of moments before those bubble-shaped heads emerged, those empty eye sockets, and the high-pitched voices.
She shook Yeshua. He was still holding onto her, his fingers curled tight around her armored arms. ¡°Can¡¯t you frighten them off again?¡± she asked. ¡°Can¡¯t you just¡ drink them?¡±
He shook his head. He was trembling. But he released her arms as the liquid bubbled around both of their feet. He pointed toward the sky with one finger.
Jenny looked up and her hopes sank. The clouds were bubbling too, almost mirroring what was happening on the ground. But instead of white liquid, this was red. Dark red. The sky bubbles ballooned and expanded and burst. Then it began to fall as rain.
The Deaths cried out, and Yeshua splashed through the bubbling white liquid, churning pink as the rain grew heavier. And this rain wasn¡¯t anything at all like rain. It wasn¡¯t water.
It was hot and sticky. There was a thick metallic stench to it, and Jenny knew what it was with each heavy breath she took, each beat of her heart. It was blood.
It was raining blood.
76. Its Raining Blood
The blood was hot and sticky, and the downpour was relentless. Thick globs of it soaked through Jenny¡¯s hair. It ran down her face and new armor in ribbons. Every breath she took was stained with its heavy metallic stench, and she felt like she was drowning.
It coated her lungs, her insides, and she felt the blood with every pulse of her heart. Shielding her face with one hand, she tried to blink it out of her eyes. To keep it from dripping down her face. She really wanted to swallow; she could tell just by the scent, by the aroma, that the blood was delicious. That it would hit better than any meal, any drink. She wanted to stick out her tongue and catch every single drop. She wanted to cup her hands and gather a mouthful and slurp it all up and-
Unable to resist, she stuck her tongue out and lapped up what it could off the sides of her mouth. The flavors, rich and savory, coated her tongue, and she felt a wave of dizziness as her body adjusted. No new notification came up. Nothing changed. Of course it wouldn¡¯t; she was already Blooded.
The ghouls hadn¡¯t come out of the ground yet, but everything was bubbling. It felt like they were taking their time, or maybe the blood was making them thicker, heavier... She splashed through some of the liquid, blinking over and over to clear her eye lashes, too aware of the blood dribbling down her back and down her arms. Yeshua was urging the Deaths to gather.
¡°Stay close!¡± he shouted. ¡°Stay near to me. I will protect you.¡± He was gesturing wildly with his arms, like he was trying to herd a flock of sheep, and the Deaths, all their faces frightened and covered in blood, did as he instructed. But as the rain grew thicker, as the blood fell heavier and wetter, it grew increasingly difficult to see.
Jenny fashioned new head gear, dark blue to match her new armor. It covered her hair and the sides of her head ¨C blood dribbled down behind her ears and she suppressed a shudder. She¡¯d included a raised visor to keep the blood out of her eyes. To keep the blood from filling up her nose with every breath. And it was just in time.
Hands reached out from the frothing liquid. Arms stretched upward and out, fingers curling as though the Ghouls were in agony, as though they were drowning in their own substance. A rounded head emerged amidst all that, the two eye holes filling with vapor, filling with blood, and one by one, more heads appeared. They looked like pinkish-reddish flotation devices bobbing on the sea; their limbs could¡¯ve been pool floaties.
But there was something wrong with them. Something different. The first head that appeared was the first ghoul to fully form. On all fours it rose from the bubbling water, blood streaming down its entire body, staining its once white coloring. This creature wasn¡¯t like the ghouls she¡¯d fought before; it was as red as the blood, darkening with every drop of rain.
Blooded Ghoul (NULL)
Blooded? It didn¡¯t cry out. It didn¡¯t call for its father. It didn¡¯t say anything. All it did was groan, moaning and mumbling incoherently ¨C if it was trying to communicate, Jenny couldn¡¯t understand what it was saying over the drumming pitter-patter of blood splattering her armor, splattering the ghouls¡¯ heads and shoulders, and running into their empty eye sockets. Several of them turned their heads upward with their oversized mouths open, even as they struggled to fully emerge. Their teeth glistening as their throats collected blood.
Steam swirled out of their eyes. She hoped they would collapse the way the ghouls who¡¯d eaten from Yeshua¡¯s body had fallen to the ground, becoming pink puddles that drained away. But more and more crawled out of the bubbling puddles. More Blooded Ghouls stretched their limbs and turned their empty eye sockets toward her.
This was going to be a fight. Messier and uglier than before. The first ghoul opened its mouth to reveal two rows of stained teeth. Blood ran down its chin. She half expected it to say something, to call out for its father again, but it scrambled toward her. It batted away reaching arms and legs, kicked its fellow ghouls; it was coming straight for her.
Her hatchet flashed to her hand. More and more Ghouls climbed out of the frothing liquid, and now it felt like she was wading through a flood that came halfway up to her ankles. The first ghoul stumbled, reaching for her, eyes swirling with steam that trailed behind it. Jenny sliced through its elbow with one swing. There was a muted flash of light that made all the rain drops around them glisten, that made the ghoul¡¯s grotesque face shine for a quick second.
+64 Energy
It didn¡¯t burst into liquid. Instead, there was a crack and the arm splintered like wood. And this time, she got Energy from the attack. She was causing pain. The ghoul slipped, clutching its arm and howling, howling so loudly that Jenny wanted to cover her ears. But she was already stepping back, sloshing through the liquids, trying to keep out of reach of the other hands climbing out of the ground.
A wild thrill flickered up to her throat. This was what was missing during her first encounter with these creatures. With a renewed wild frenzy, she struck over and over as more ghouls got to their feet and came after her.
+64 Energy
+64 Energy
+64 Energy
Were there more ghouls this time? She couldn¡¯t tell. Their bodies glistened like shiny red plastic, and in the blood rain, she could hardly keep track. Each of their faces looked the same. Hollowed out eyes. Large mouths filled with blood. Their moans and whimpers swirled around her as she struck. But this wasn¡¯t like before at all. She¡¯d rested. She¡¯d eaten. And she¡¯d invested her stat points. She wasn¡¯t going to be on the defensive this time.
But too many bodies crowded between her and Yeshua and the Deaths. And no matter how many she struck down, more Ghouls kept coming. All the while, the relentless rain pummeled her with blood, making her feel sticky and bogged down. It thickened the air in her lungs, her breath burning with the metallic aftertaste of blood. But the scent egged her on; she wanted more.
The ghouls shrieked like banshees every time she struck them down. They didn¡¯t die, but they¡¯d clatter to the ground, clutching their wounds and wriggling and screaming. She¡¯d wince if they were too close to her ears, but even then, their sounds of agony felt justified. Rage thrummed through her limbs. Rage at how they¡¯d feasted on Yeshua for who knew how long. Rage at what the Deaths had felt trapped in their pillars. Rage at herself. Rage at the worlds. Rage at everyone and everything.
This was almost therapeutic, beating down on the Blooded Ghouls without a care. Their bodies didn¡¯t have bones or flesh or veins. If there was any more liquid coming out of them, it was meaningless in the rain. And they didn¡¯t even die. It didn¡¯t matter if she slit their throats or left a deep gash in their faces or lobbed off their arms. They didn¡¯t die. Most of the injured fell to the ground, others stood helplessly in the swarm, crying like children lost in a crowd before another ghoul knocked them over. It was pathetic. And all the while, she harvested their pain through her Hatchet. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
+64 Energy
+64 Energy
+64 Energy
She punched one in the face, her armor covered knuckles making a satisfying thwack as the ghouls¡¯ face caved in. It collapsed to its knees, fingers digging into its new orifice, and Jenny spun to attack the next ghoul with her hatchet. This was almost too easy, she thought. Was she really that strong?
As far as she could tell, the only difference between the Ghouls and the Blooded Ghouls seemed to be their dark red color and that they no longer burst into liquid when struck. But how was that an improvement? Now they writhed in pain and felt pain. She¡¯d been afraid they¡¯d advanced to a more powerful form, how the angels had gone from tarnished to wretched to desecrated. So, what was this? But the more she fought, as the ghouls closed in and bumped into her shoulders and arms and back, as they threatened to suffocate her, she realized what the issue was.
Before, she could strike down several of them with a Savage Throw or Instant Acceleration and make space. But now she had to be even more careful when she dodged. The ground was cluttered with fallen bodies shrieking and wriggling. If she fell, the ghouls would pile on and she¡¯d never get back up.
Hands grasped her shoulders. Red fingers curled, and she felt a few of her scales crackle, but the new enhanced design held up a lot better than her previous armor, and the blood rain made her slick and wet. She slipped out of their grip and shoved her hatchet into a ghoul¡¯s chest. It fell away with a gasp, the steam swirling violently in its eye sockets.
Another ghoul¡¯s fingers curled around her leg, and she fought the urge to kick it off. An elbow struck her in the back. Hands grabbed at her helmet, trying to yank it off. It forced her head back and blood rained down on her face. Jenny used Ignite.
Flames roared to life from head to toe, boiling the blood dribbling down her armor and scorching the ghouls who¡¯d grabbed her. She seized the opportunity, flipping her hatchet as she turned, striking them down in a wide crescent, each one lighting up with a brief flash of light. She shook her leg free, a hand still curled around her calf. She¡¯d cut the arm off.
Jenny was stronger now. Their grips weren''t as painful or effective, and with her increased power, each strike cut through the ghouls with ease. And each strike gave her more Energy, and slowly she found her rhythm, slashing off their arms or their heads, letting their bodies topple to the ground. She stomped on them like she was crushing red pots of clay. She whirled around, slashing and shoving, swiping arms that reached for her when she didn¡¯t have an easy swing, punching faces or throats.
Screams and groans assaulted her ears, but her enhanced armor, her tougher body, took their attacks like they were nothing. In the frenzy, she¡¯d almost forgotten her plan to fight toward Yeshua and the Deaths, but then a powerful gust blew away the ghouls swarming her. They rolled by, arms and legs flailing like they¡¯d been sucked up by a tornado. The rain curved and flicked around Jenny, swept away in the same direction, a brief break from the downpour before the blood came pouring down again.
Red lightning ignited in the sky, illuminating the rain and the boiling clouds, and Jenny saw Yeshua standing in front of the deaths, his soaked robes billowing, his hair stuck to his face as blood ran down his forehead and cheeks.
But he also stood behind the Deaths as well as at their sides. Seven or eight of him in total, all wearing the same purple robes, all hunched and looking exhausted, but he¡¯d formed a perimeter around the Deaths as they huddled in a compact circle.
Each Yeshua punched and kicked the ghouls that swarmed them, but when their hands and feet made contact with a ghoul, the creature completely disintegrated into a fine red mist, and the impact blew away the surrounding ghouls.
He must have an ability that let him duplicate himself. Jenny rushed toward them with Instant Acceleration, taking advantage of the momentary cleared space to catch her breath. She caught up to the crowd of Deaths, blood dribbling down all their frightened faces and soaking into their robes. They all looked almost as red as the ghouls.
¡°This won¡¯t end,¡± said the Yeshua bodies in unison, his voice echoing and booming all around. ¡°They will come endlessly. They are the world responding to change.¡±
Jenny held her breath, trying to ease her heartrate and watched as the ghouls struggled to get past the many Yeshua. He struck them over and over, using his fists to generate enough wind to disintegrate the closest creatures and push back the rest.
The younger deaths were sobbing as the older ones tried to console them. But the rest of them were crying too, frightened and meek, and Jenny didn¡¯t know what to do. She remembered Yeshua warning that he couldn¡¯t protect them all, and judging by how weakened he looked, how the ghouls kept coming despite how afraid they¡¯d been earlier, she wasn¡¯t sure how long this would hold out. As she prepared to jump back into the fight, one ghoul slipped past a Yeshua to her left.
Its red limbs flailed as it leaped toward the Deaths, teeth gnashing, empty eyes swirling with vapor trailing behind its head. Jenny turned on her heels and ran toward it, pushing through the crowd of Deaths. The ghoul had grabbed the little girl death, the one that came up to Yeshua before. It was holding her in the air as she kicked and cried, as rain battered her face.
The closest Yeshua turned, his face strained, teeth bared. But several ghouls grabbed him by the neck and shoulders and brought him to the ground. Neither he or Jenny were going to make it in time, but then the girl squirmed out of the ghoul¡¯s grip.
How? Jenny barely registered what just happened. Was it just because of the rain? Did that let the girl slip away? The ghoul scrambled before grabbing her again, this time pinning her to the ground as it bared its teeth, ready to take a bite from her shoulder. But that was enough time for Jenny to catch up, and she didn¡¯t bother slowing down. At full speed, she kicked the ghoul in the face.
The tip of her armored foot connected with one of its eye sockets. There was a hideous crack, and the top of its head flew off as though she¡¯d just popped the lid off a jar.
Its body fell limp to the ground as the girl wriggled out and ran into the arms of one of the other deaths. Jenny turned, tossing her hatchet with Savage Throw to strike down the angel chewing off Yeshua¡¯s nose.
But more ghouls broke through the line of defense, and despite Yeshua¡¯s multitudinous cry telling them to stand still, the crowd of Deaths scattered. They ran in every direction, and in the frenzy, in the bloody downpour and the ghouls swarming, everything became a mess of red limbs and screaming. Shouts and cries erupted all around her, and she knew neither she or Yeshua could attack with ease. They¡¯d risk hitting a Death.
Red lightning surged and Jenny used the flat side of her hatchet, parrying blows and trying to knock creatures away from her. She saw Yeshua¡¯s splitting, each one separating into three or four more Yeshua, but the new ones looked even thinner and weaker. Strained. They were being overrun, and in every direction, there were only more ghouls, more blood-colored mannequins moaning and whimpering and scrambling over each other. And the screaming!
Shrill screams of agony that she knew were the deaths. She found the girl, the first death that Jenny had freed, lying on the ground, wriggling and shrieking as three ghouls feasted on her arms and legs, splattering blood and flesh. With a scream of rage, Jenny lodged her hatchet into their heads. She beheaded one. She snapped through another¡¯s skulls. She kicked one off the girl.
But before she could help the death up, several more ghouls grabbed at Jenny. Fingers curled around her wrist. Hands latched onto her sides. Something struck the back of her head so hard she saw sparks.
What did they want?
What did they get out of eating the deaths? Could the deaths even die?
What do I do? Ignite? Savage Throw? Instant Acceleration?
Valescent Light?
That¡¯s it!
She elbowed a ghoul in the face and struck down another. She pushed a Death, an old man, to the side and struck down the ghoul that had nearly gotten him. Her mind spun, trying to connect thoughts as she evaded ghouls and blinked blood out of her eyelashes.
She could open another portal. She could get everyone out of here. But how? And where would they go? She didn¡¯t know how she¡¯d opened it last time. She¡¯d just made use of what was already there.
How did I do it?
An arm grabbed her shoulder, and this grip felt too firm, too powerful, and she swore out loud, twisting her body to attack, afraid her arm would pop out of her shoulder. But it was one of the Yeshua. He¡¯d had the same idea as her. He shouted in the chaos, blood dripping down his face and beard, ¡°Open a passage! Open a passageway to the World of Demons. We can lead these abominations right to Hell!¡±
77. Opening
Before she could register Yeshua¡¯s words, a hand smashed into her face. Jenny couldn¡¯t tell if it was a ghoul or another Yeshua or a Death, but fingernails scratched her lips, scraped her teeth, and she reacted. Her hatchet swung, and the hand was separated from whomever it belonged to.
She stumbled back, yanking the hand out of her mouth, unable to tell if it was bleeding in all this terrible rain.
+64 Energy
It was red all the way through and felt like plastic. It was a Ghoul¡¯s. She hadn¡¯t hurt one of the deaths, but her momentary relief was cut short. Another ghoul rammed her side, clawing at her scales. Two more ghouls grabbed her shoulders and tried to pull her down, but she turned her heel, grounding herself firmly, swearing loudly as she tried to shake them off. Her joints ached from their grips, but she wrapped an arm around one¡¯s head, its jaws snapping against the armor that protected her armpit, and she struck another in the eyes with her hatchet.
But more hands grabbed onto her legs and her waist. Blood rain splattered over everything, and the ghouls¡¯ whimpering and moaning were making it too hard to think. With a cry of rage, she used Ignite again.
Fire burst out of her shoulders almost like two wings unfurling. The ghouls cowered, the sudden brightness shocking their systems. Every single drop of blood around them glistened tantalizingly, hissing as they struck Jenny¡¯s burning body and evaporated.
The ghouls recovered almost immediately, swiping at her face, but the split second was all she needed. She swept around quickly. Slashing through each ghoul before sidestepping their collapsing bodies. They fell to the ground screaming and clutching their wounds, and Jenny twisted her arm, snapping the head off the ghoul she had in a headlock.
As she moved away from them, she expanded her helmet, stretching the metal forward to shield the front of her face, leaving only a slit for her to see through. This limited her visibility, but it was better than having her mouth ripped open. Her lip bled from where it¡¯d been scratched, and she licked at her own blood. It tasted sweeter than the blood rain.
The Yeshua¡¯s shouted around her, and a thunderous burst of wind blew past, knocking away the rain and an entire group of ghouls and deaths alike. Jenny managed to stay on her feet, but she could tell this blow was weaker than his earlier attacks. He was worried about hurting the deaths; they couldn¡¯t fight like this.
¡°You must hurry!¡± shouted the Yeshua in unison. Two of him wrestled with ghouls. Another Yeshua was twitching on the ground, crying out in agony as ghouls snapped off his limbs and one chewed a hole through his side. And still another Yeshua was helping one of the deaths up.
She didn¡¯t know who to help. The deaths were in the same situation, being eaten alive. Teeth gnashed. The ghouls moaned and whimpered and ate, and the deaths screamed and cried out helplessly. Jenny kicked ghouls in the ribs. She slammed her hatchet down on their heads like she was splitting firewood. She elbowed and punched and roared flame, but it didn¡¯t matter. For every ghoul she disabled, two or three more took their place.
What had Yeshua said? This was the world responding to change?
Jenny started this. This was her fault. She¡¯d set Yeshua free. She¡¯d awakened the first death. And now all of these poor people... a ghoul tore the head off one of the younger deaths, swallowing it whole. Jenny screamed, using Instant Acceleration to burst through the crowd. She punched the ghoul so hard, the scales covering her knuckles cracked, and it spat out the head. It rolled across the ground, spraying blood as the ghoul collapsed.
She grabbed the death¡¯s headless body, shaking. This one was just a kid. A little boy. But even as she held the body, a warm light seeped out of the gruesome neck and solidified into a new head. A new face with clear skin and pretty hair and big brown eyes. The boy blinked at her for a moment, then the rain splattered his face, and Jenny couldn¡¯t tell if the kid was crying or not. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was crying or not.
Two more ghouls leaped toward them, and Jenny thrust the boy away as hard as she could. Another ghoul struck her in the face with its arm, its hand rattling her helmet. More grabbed her, and they piled on top, wriggling, teeth scraping against her scales, palms striking her helmet and her back over and over.
She twisted carefully to avoid dislocating her shoulder or her leg, then swiped to the side, burying her hatchet in one ghoul¡¯s hip. Another leaped right onto her head, knocking her forward and down, her face smashing into a bloody puddle.
With a muffled scream, she tried to crawl out of the wriggling pile. She couldn¡¯t help but swallow blood. Blood ran down her face and dripped from her helmet. She slammed her hatchet into the ground, trying to will herself to get out. Trying to focus on Ignite again, but that was when it came to her.
Back in the high school, that eye shaped pool of darkness, like a wound in the cafeteria floor. That was the opening that allowed the angels to come through, and she and everyone else had only been able to get back because of... because of Susan¡¯s light. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
The healing! The light had healed the opening between worlds, and that was what Jenny had done later. When she¡¯d wanted to leave. She¡¯d reopened it with light. But for her to use Valescent Light like that... there needed to be a wound in the first place. A tear between worlds.
Her heart pounding, aware of all the horror around her, Jenny stopped struggling. She tried to relax. A foot struck her helmet and smashed her face into the puddle again. Teeth and fists and screaming pummeled her as blood rained down on everything. She touched her fingers to the ground. Concentrate.
Both hands, even as fingers curled around her forearms, even as the ghouls tried to pry off her helmet. She touched the ground the same way she¡¯d done with the pillars, and she realized that Yeshua had also been showing her how to do exactly this. It had to be beyond her body. Something outside of her. Severed Spirit.
Immediately, the ground responded. She felt it open. Felt something shift. And a horrible feeling coiled around her stomach and squeezed tight.
Then it kicked. Like a baby kicking inside of her. It spurted out of her bellybutton. Her exoskeleton.
A scream tore through her throat, gurgling in the blood she¡¯d swallowed. The armor on her back cracked and split. Her six tentacles burst out of her flesh and -
You are overjoyed. You are reborn. You are alive again. The blood! It¡¯s raining delicious, precious blood. You can feast all you want. You don¡¯t have to stop. These creatures can feel pain and you can harvest every last drop of Energy.
Look how powerful you can be. Look how powerful you are.
You don¡¯t have to be alone anymore.
Your tentacles whirl about, soaking in the rain, slapping the ghouls into dust with a single blow. They are nothing creatures. Empty. Hollow. Your tentacles crush them. Curl around them and fling them into the air like dolls.
They¡¯re not on top of you anymore.
You can get up.
You can feast.
Yeshua has already offered his flesh. The Deaths don¡¯t die either. They grow back. You can eat all you want. How delicious will they be? Your mouth is already watering. Your stomach is already grumbling. All you have to do is -
With a violent shudder, Jenny snapped out of it, breathing hard. Everything was dulled. Everything had slowed down. She was lying in the puddle of blood as it bubbled and churned, but the bubbles burst in slow motion, and the rain was gentle. The ghouls moved in slowly, running toward her. People were screaming. Shouting. But their voices were faint and far away. Her vision felt faded like she¡¯d just woken up.
She was lying on the ground, but her arms, stretched out above her head, were covered in red. It was her exoskeleton, covering her belly and her sides, coming up to her jaw. It was growing over her armor, but it hadn¡¯t grown completely. It hadn¡¯t covered her completely. And her tentacles.
She could feel the precise location of every drop of rain falling from the sky, soaking into the ground, dripping down the bodies around her. Her tentacles ingested as much blood as they could, but she forced her attention away, down to her chest, her body. To her hands and fingers. To where she was touching the ground.
It was almost like instinct. Or like sticking her hand out the window on a freezing day just to feel the biting chill of the wind while the rest of her was safe and warm inside. Focus. Breathe. Swallow.
I want to leave this place.
I want to take the deaths away from here.
I want to save them.
She pictured Susan again. It wasn¡¯t like last time when she¡¯d thought of Susan and lost focus while trying to sever the death from the pillar. This time it was memory. This time it was longing, as though Susan was her guiding force. As though the hurt of what Jenny had done could push her forward.
Open me up!
Cut me open!
Get it the fuck out of me!
A silent scream blossomed inside Jenny. Rising, slowly and slowly, as everything around her shifted into motion again. Her tentacles swirled. The ghouls grabbed and tore at the deaths. Yeshua struck blow after blow. All the while the blood rained down on everyone and everything.
She kept her mind on Susan¡¯s smile. When Susan had still been alive, standing on the darkness in the cafeteria, her arms out stretched to welcome Jenny. She¡¯d run toward Susan. She¡¯d ran right into her arms, the hunger uncontrollable, the need beyond any urgency she¡¯d ever had before. Jenny felt Susan¡¯s throat between her teeth. The squish. The crunch. The burst of flavor, the warmth she¡¯d always wanted.
She saw Susan¡¯s corpse. Her lifeless eyes. And the hurt. The heart wrenching, rib shattering hurt that made her want to bury her fingers in her bellybutton and claw herself completely open so that all that pain, all that self-hatred and disgust and hurt could burst out of her and break free, shoot from her fingertips into the fabric of the world itself. And everything ripped open beneath her.
It felt like she¡¯d punctured something. Darkness gushed out from the ground, swallowing the bubbling liquid and the rain; it was the same horrid darkness she¡¯d found on the cafeteria floor where the angels had surfaced from. The many Yeshua yelled something. The ghouls screeched in unison like a thousand fingernails scraping her ears, and the darkness tugged on Jenny. It tugged on her exoskeleton, drawing out more of her monstrous side.
You must give in to yourself.
You must break free.
You must-
Jenny knew what to do next. How to make it work. She kept her mind on Susan. Kept her focus on how she felt. Hurt. Regret. Love.
Want. Need. Hope.
I¡¯m going to find you.
Golden light surged from her hands. Colors, all the colors of the rainbow, flowed into the light like ink bleeding into a page, and warmth radiated from her hand. All the darkness shimmered away, turning golden and colorful, illuminating the world just as the deaths had done before as they¡¯d woken each other up, just as Susan had done when she and Jenny had left their survival challenge.
Jenny stared into the blinding light, tears streaming from her eyes as she sank like a stone. A sea of golden light welcomed her. Streams of color, swirls of glistening reds and threads of vibrant greens curled around her limbs like tentacles or underwater plants, tangling her, pulling her further into the depths, and Jenny relaxed all her muscles. She let go. She surrendered to the light and felt all the others, the many Yeshua, the deaths, and the ghouls, sinking in with her.
Where am I going?
78. Seeking through the light
Her breathing eased. The aches from the ghouls¡¯ attacks faded away and, when she blinked, tears bubbled off her cheeks alongside the blood from the rain. Her sweat, the salty dirt of the world, all of it was washed away. In a few moments, her enhanced armor, which had several cracks and many scales missing, was clean. The light cleansed and healed her, but it did nothing for the hurt that filled her heart to bursting.
The front of her body was covered by her red exoskeleton ¨Cher chest, her arms, her navel, and most of her thighs. Rough and uneven, it jutted out in every direction like a strange rock formation. It hadn¡¯t even settled completely. She''d stopped it before the gelatinous substance could completely spread, but it covered her arms up to her wrists. A bit of it even covered the underside of her jaw.
As she sank through the light, she touched the covering on her chest. The sensation shuddered through her; it was like touching the salt pillars, like touching someone else. A strange warmth. A misshaped hardness. At least the exoskeleton hadn¡¯t completely taken over her face, and it hadn¡¯t made it all the way around to her back ¨C she tried to tell herself she hadn¡¯t reverted back to her monstrous form, but she could feel the tentacles swirling behind her.
She turned to look at them over her shoulder. They¡¯d grown. They were thicker and fleshier than before, partially covered with the dark blue of her enhanced armor like a thin layer of fish scales.
All sorts of colors swirled around them. Greens and oranges, purples and pinks, silvers. They formed floating rings that spiraling along the length of each tentacle before dissipating and fading away and coming back. Jenny turned slowly as she sank through the thick golden light to see hundreds of bodies trailing behind her. It reminded her of a school trip to the aquarium. The dark, underground room that had a glass ceiling. She remembered looking up at the beautiful sea creatures and plants above, wishing they could all be free. Wishing they weren¡¯t trapped in a glass cage for people to come see. How was that fair?
The blooded ghouls looked like red mannequins. They clutched their heads, wriggling and struggling as though they had piercing headaches. No color reached out to them. No swirls of color enveloped them. And no sound escaped them; she couldn¡¯t hear their moaning or screeching.
The deaths fell almost gracefully, their arms spread wide, their torn robes fluttering in the light as purple and pink streams curled around their waists and limbs. Enveloped in oranges and yellows. Some of them held hands. And to Jenny, they looked more like the angels she¡¯d always grownup reading about and picturing whenever she prayed ¨C they looked perfectly at ease in the passageway.
And then there were the Yeshua. All of them had their eyes closed. Their beards and long hair drifting, their robes billowing. Every one of him seemed like they were resting, and all signs of damage were gone, healed away by the light. He was still emaciated. Too thin, too tired looking. But just like with the ghouls, no colors encircled Yeshua. She wondered if that had to do with him being NULL too.
Where am I supposed to go? she wanted to ask him, but when Jenny opened her mouth, air bubbled out, melting into the golden light. Panic didn¡¯t strike her. She didn¡¯t need to breathe. This was the air she¡¯d held in her lungs. Spittle floated away from her lips. Spittle and blood, and she let go of whatever bit of stale air she had left.
Her mind emptied. She tried to concentrate on the colors, on the light. She turned away from the falling bodies, maneuvering with her arms. She caught sight of her hatchet floating nearby, and she swam toward it. Once she had it in her hands, she held it to her exoskeleton covered chest, her tentacles reaching in every direction, trying to sense, trying to make sense of things.
She was leading the others. Taking them somewhere. Yeshua had mentioned the World of Demons. He¡¯d called it Hell. But she hadn¡¯t been thinking about that when she opened the passageway. All she¡¯d wanted to do was open it. But now that it was open, how was she supposed to decide where to go?
Think.
How did I get to the world of death?
By wanting it. By wanting to find Susan. She didn¡¯t know of deaths and souls or anything like that; she¡¯d only wanted to find Susan. She¡¯d focused on the thought of death, and the light had guided her through it.
She shut her eyes, trying to ignore the pressing worry of what happened when she used Severed Spirit. When that voice took over.
Was it a voice?
Or was it her true self?
She¡¯d felt so separated from her body. Like she¡¯d been watching herself through a movie screening, like she¡¯d been feeling everything through a story she was reading. Like she wasn¡¯t real.
Doesn¡¯t matter.
Find the Demons. The world of Demons.
Find Hell.
Then Jenny felt it. A gentle push, like the light was pushing against her. Like feeling a breeze nudging her from behind. Something pushed against her, pressing her away.
And something else pulled, as though trying to reel her in. It reminded her again of fish, something from biology about how fish had a strip of special organs along their sides. That was how they sensed movement and current around them, and that was how they truly ¡°saw.¡±
She kept her eyes closed, focusing on the pulling and pushing sensation. Guide me. Show me where to go. Please. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
There was a current to the light. No, multiple currents in four distinct directions. Her heart skipped a beat as recognition filled her chest. The biggest pull was toward what felt like a ¡®center¡¯. A core. The sun of a solar system. Her body turned toward it.
This pull felt familiar. It felt right. It was... that was the world she belonged to. Earth. What had Eve called it? The Material World. That was at the center of everything.
From above came a push. It was pushing her down, away from it, deeper into the light. That was the direction she¡¯d come from; that was the world of Death.
If she¡¯d wanted to, she got the sense she could kick, swim or fly upward, and break the surface again, returning to that bloody rain and bringing everyone with her. That wouldn¡¯t do much good. And she couldn¡¯t go to Earth. Something told her it would be a mess to bring Deaths to the material world, a violation of natural order.
Ahead of her was... light. It was cool and misty, and she¡¯d felt this world before too. This one pulled, tugging on her; she¡¯d seen this world when she¡¯d lived through the eyes of that orange covered angel. She remembered the clouds and the shining towers and the flocks of other angels.
There was something dark there. Not just in her memory of the world, but right now. Something horrible and heavy, something she didn¡¯t want to see. Something she didn¡¯t want to be found by. And even if that thing wasn¡¯t there, even if that thing wasn¡¯t trying to invite her, she couldn¡¯t take the Deaths there. She wasn¡¯t sure if there was any land; would they all plummet to their... well, she didn¡¯t know what would happen if the Deaths fell.
Jenny turned away, toward the remaining pushing/pulling sensation. This one was tugging on her tentacles but pushing against her body, like it couldn¡¯t decide what it wanted. It was cold, ice cold, and a shiver spread through her. If she''d had breath, it would¡¯ve taken it away, like she¡¯d been splashed with ice water.
But it felt right somehow. It felt like the world she was looking for. Besides, process of elimination ruled out all the other directions she could go. That left this icy world, and Jenny opened her eyes. She grabbed at the light, fistfuls of it, trying to propel herself and the hundreds she was dragging behind her.
What¡¯ll happen to the ghouls?
She didn¡¯t care. At least in another world, they would have more space to fight. No more blood rain to fuel the blooded ghouls. And no more bubbling liquid for more ghouls to emerge from. Was that what Yeshua had in mind?
Did he know of the other worlds she could¡¯ve gone to?
Why had he been so specific?
The colors responded. The greens and blues faded to pale white and silver, and the golden light shimmered around her, drawing her in. She¡¯d found the current. The pushing sensation gave way to a fearsome tug, sucking her toward it.
She was flowing into it, moving without kicking her legs or flapping her arms, letting the light guide her. She trusted it. She surrendered to it. And this time, the light didn¡¯t just snap shut below her. It parted in front of her, and Jenny stepped through.
When her armored foot touched down on the other side, it crunched on ice. A cold wind blew through the gap in her helmet, and when she exhaled, steam rose from her face.
With a shudder, she stepped into another world. Something inside her relaxed, and her tentacles wriggled violently, swirling as they emerged from the colors and light, snapping back into Jenny¡¯s shoulder blades and spine with a shlurp.
Like a rubber band snapping, she cried out and fell forward onto the snow, a cramp burning a hole in her navel as her exoskeleton retreated beneath her Enhanced Armor. It drained back into her bellybutton, returning back inside her, and she coughed violently, spitting blood as the trembling eased.
Freezing wind blew through the gap in her helmet. Her armor protected her from the worst of it, but the cold seeped right into her bones. As her visioned adjusted to this new world and she blinked away tears from the biting cold, she saw in front of her another empty wasteland. Instead of salt and gloom and blood rain, this one was bright blue and white. Icy snow stretching as far as she could see through the steady gentle snowfall.
It was silent. This world was completely silent, everything muffled by the snow and ice. There were no trees. No rock faces. No pillars. Only the gray white clouds above, the snow, and the ice-covered ground.
Behind her, the opening she¡¯d made hovered in the air. It blurred in and out of focus, a rippling elongated oval. Colors leaked out, tendrils and beams of reds and yellows that surged, as though the opening was spitting them like solar flares. Most of the light evaporated into the world.
Jenny hobbled around the opening, wondering what it looked like from the side or the back. But it didn''t matter how she circled or moved, the gash always looked the same, a wound in the air that she¡¯d healed. Where was everyone else?
She reached for it, willing them to come out, and in response, the passageway pulsed. It shone brighter and brighter, so bright that Jenny had to raise a hand to protect her eyes.
Screams and cries and moans filled the air, and Jenny blinked to find piles of ghouls struggling over one another as frost spread across their red limbs. Their teeth gnashed. Their fingers reached for her. Reached for the Deaths. Their eye sockets wide as though they were shocked. The vapor swirling inside their eyes came to a standstill, and the ghouls froze.
Frozen like ice sculptures dyed red. Frozen in their piles, some half standing, some crawling, most grasping onto other ghouls or deaths.
The deaths¡¯ breaths clouded around their face as they scrambled away from the frozen ghouls. The many Yeshua''s were standing to their feet, shaking off their robes. They snapped frozen limbs off ghouls who¡¯d managed to grab a Yeshua or a death, and Jenny sank to their knees as the rest of them huddled for warmth and safety. Coldness crawled up her spine as she allowed herself to feel the wave of exhaustion and relief. She needed to lie down for a while.
As the passage way closed shut and the golden light faded, one of the Yeshua''s approached her, concern on his strained face. Snowflakes clung to his beard and eyelashes. ¡°Hell has frozen over.¡±
Jenny opened her mouth to respond. To ask if they should go somewhere else; she didn¡¯t know if she could open another passageway so soon. She felt drained. Her heart squeezed empty. But then Yeshua stumbled. All of them at once.
His face twisted in pain, and he clutched his chest. The other Yeshua''s shimmered, disintegrating into lights that beamed toward the Yeshua in front of Jenny. He was breathing hard, his face red. Each light splashed onto him, outlining him brightly before fading, but it didn¡¯t seem to be helping him at all.
¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Jenny stood quickly, reaching for the System, wondering what kind of potion she should create for him. Was he injured? Exhausted? Did he need a bite of her arm?
He shook his head, the artery on his forehead bulging as his eyes turned red. She could see the one on his neck too. ¡°The Cross,¡± he hissed through his teeth. Then his eyes rolled toward the back of his head. He faltered, reaching out with a hand as if trying to grab something for balance, as if hoping Jenny would catch him. But as she rushed toward him, Yeshua disintegrated into vapor.
For a moment, his silhouette lingered, made of misty air. Then he faded away.
Jenny was breathing hard, not sure what to do, staring at the spot where Yeshua had just been. She glanced at the Deaths as though they might know what was going on, but they looked just as frightened as Jenny felt. They were all shivering and crying, rubbing their arms or holding onto each other for warmth. Yeshua was gone.
79. A frozen world
Steam clouded the inside of Jenny¡¯s helmet; she was breathing too quickly. She yanked the thing off and tossed it aside, blinking repeatedly at Yeshua¡¯s footsteps in the snow. Already the steady snowfall was filling them in, erasing them just as Yeshua had disappeared.
¡°Yeshua?¡± she called out, glancing around, half expecting one of his bodies to stand up from the pile of ghouls or emerge from the crowd of deaths. She walked briskly, trying to figure out what had happened, and made her way to the frozen ghouls.
Her heart was pounding. Hundreds of blooded ghouls were covered in a layer of snow spread out as far as she could see. There might¡¯ve been even more, but falling snow limited visibility, and Jenny got the sense she was standing on the edge of a mass grave. There was a solemness, a blanketed quietness as she stared at all the frozen figures who looked too much like people.
Most of them were still on the ground, stuck to one another like victims of a natural disaster. A few had gotten to their knees or a halfway standing position. The ghouls¡¯ red color looked foggy pink.
Some of them looked like they were reaching for her, and she imagined it must¡¯ve been horribly painful to freeze to death. Their empty eye sockets glared, as if accusing her. Was this her fault? Had she messed something up? Was Yeshua dead?
Yeshua had said something about the cross before he¡¯d vanished, and she remembered how he¡¯d dragged that thing across the gloomy world to the pillars. As if he couldn¡¯t go too far without it.
Did that mean he was bound to it by more than just flesh?
She dug her nails into her palms, trying to search her memory. She¡¯d been so focused on opening the passageway, of getting out of that nightmare ¨C she didn¡¯t even think to bring the cross with her. Why hadn¡¯t she noticed?
But how was that her fault? She couldn¡¯t have known.
Yeshua should¡¯ve told her. Or had he tried to? He¡¯d shouted several things, but she couldn¡¯t have understood him in that mess of blood and teeth and desperate hands.
Jenny tried to find the spot in the air where the passageway had hovered. She felt around, turning this way and that, trying to remember where she¡¯d been standing in correlation with the ghouls, but everywhere looked the same. It was snowing, gentle but relentless, already tucking away the footsteps and disturbances in the snow.
The deaths muttered and whispered, and she heard echoes of their questions. Where is he? What is she doing? It¡¯s so cold. I¡¯m hungry. She wanted to tell them to shut up. To be quiet. She needed to think. Gentle trails of steam rose from where the snow landed on their bodies; a little fog gathered around them.
Jenny was breathing hard, voluminous clouds of breath escaping her lips. It was cold. Too cold. And the deaths were huddling for warmth. But she figured they¡¯d be okay for now. When she¡¯d freed the first death, that girl had felt so hot to the touch, like she¡¯d been on fire. They could keep each other safe from the cold; Jenny had to figure out how to help Yeshua.
She couldn¡¯t bear the thought of him stuck in that world again, back in that storm of blood with more and more ghouls crawling out of the ground to feast on him in his weakened state.
Or would he fight better now without any restraints? He wouldn¡¯t have to worry about harming one of the deaths, and he might be able to feed on the ghouls and grow fuller and stronger again. She tried to calm her breathing, reminding herself that he was several magnitudes more powerful than her and that he could handle himself. Panicking wouldn¡¯t help.
But it wasn¡¯t just fear for his sake that was making her head spin. Slowly, she turned to the deaths. There were about thirty or forty of them huddling close together so that they looked like a blob of torn purple cloth and fog. Snow stuck to their hair and melted down their faces. That wasn¡¯t going to help. That would make them feel even colder. What was she supposed to do with them? How could she help them?
She did not want to feed them with her own flesh.
Her teeth started chattering. Her shoulders trembled as the cold seeped through her armor and into her bones.
Okay. I can open the portal again.
Then I can go see what¡¯s happening to Yeshua. Maybe I can bring his cross over too.
Then he can come here and explain things and we can figure out what to do next. How to find the World of Souls. How to help the deaths. How to get to Susan.
Trying to stay calm, she reached out again with one arm, armor peeling back to expose her knuckles and wrist to the cold, as though that might help. As though more sense data could activate what she needed.
She turned slowly in every direction like the needle of a compass trying to find north. Snowflakes tickled her nose. She deepened her breath, taking her time, trying to keep the worrying thoughts at bay. And after a few turns, she felt it. A slight, magnetic tug, and she stepped toward it.
There was a slight gelatinous pressure in the air, like she''d found something gooey and invisible. The air felt thicker. Bumpier. Like a scab. A tremor radiated through her chest. She was feeling the healed wound between worlds. It was similar to how the cafeteria floor had felt after she and Susan had brought the school back, when Jenny was trying to leave. How did it work?
Once a passageway was cut and then healed, would it always be there? Like scar tissue between worlds? Or was this some aspect of Valescent Light that allowed her to open the passageway again without creating another wound?
Sucking in a deep breath of cold air, she activated Valescent light, and a golden aura enveloped her palm and fingers. Colors skipped up to her fingertips to fade away, and a wave of dizziness hit Jenny so hard she stumbled back, losing her balance. The light blinked out of existence.
¡°Gah!¡± she spat, breathing even harder than before. Sweat beaded down the side of her face before the frigid air sent shivers crawling across her body. She leaned forward and grabbed her armored knees, trying to steady herself, spitting onto the snow.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
This was more than exhaustion. More than a lack of stamina. Pressure gathered behind her eyes, and her brain felt wrung out. She remembered the gaunt expression on Susan¡¯s face after using Valescent Light to heal Jenny from the brink of death. How tired Susan had looked. How sunken her eyes had been. A potion couldn¡¯t restore her.
The skill drew on something more than physical exertion, and Jenny had the sneaking suspicion that it had to do with her own death or soul or something. She squeezed her knees, her hair falling forward to cover her face. ¡°Fuck.¡±
She couldn¡¯t use it again. Not now. Not for a while. She had to rest. Like the ability was on cooldown. She slumped to the ground, her knees hitting the snow with a crunch. Her ears were freezing. The tip of her nose was freezing, and she was sure that her snot was turning to ice. Were her lips turning blue?
What the fuck was she supposed to do?
Ignite!
A roar of frustration tore through her throat, and a stream of fire billowed out of her mouth, melting the snow in front of her before she raised her face to scream at the cloud covered sky. Snow hissed and evaporated, and when she snapped her teeth shut, she closed her eyes. The warmth faded as quickly as it had come, sapped away from her face and her insides by the freezing wind of this world.
I¡¯m in hell.
What was it that Yeshua said before? Hell had frozen over? Wasn¡¯t that just an expression? Something people said? So, if this was hell, why was it snowing? Why was the ground frozen? And where are the demons?
We are right here.
Her eyes flew open. ¡°Who said that?¡± she demanded, standing and taking a menacing step toward the deaths. ¡°Did you hear that?¡± It had almost sounded like static. Like a voice crackling over an old timey radio.
They shook their heads, their torn robes fluttering as another breeze swept by. They all looked ragged and cold, and Jenny searched for the first one, the one she¡¯d freed, the brown woman. Her eyes were wide and frightened. She was hugging two of the younger deaths to her, trying to keep them warm.
Your warmth has guided us to you. The voice rattled through her head like a distorted phone call, as though someone was about to lose connection.
¡°Hello?¡± said Jenny in exasperation. She summoned her hatchet back, light flashing as anger burned inside her throat. A tense pressure pounded behind her eyes. ¡°Who¡¯s talking? Where are you?¡± She turned around and around, before snapping at the deaths. ¡°You guys seriously can¡¯t hear anything?¡± She jabbed her hatchet accusingly in their direction, and they all stepped back, blinking at her like she''d gone mad.
She almost apologized, but she couldn¡¯t stop shaking. Something was reading her thoughts. Reading her mind. Something was talking to her from inside her head again.
You are not going mad. We are not speaking to the Dead.
We are speaking to you, strange human.
She clenched her teeth so hard she thought they¡¯d shatter in the cold. She whirled around, scanning the snow for where she¡¯d dropped her helmet, seeing nothing but snowfall and the crowd of deaths and the frozen ghouls. She couldn¡¯t stop shaking, couldn¡¯t stop the boiling hot rage from taking over. She was done with invisible beings talking to her like this. ¡°Who the fuck are you? What do you want?¡±
You are intruding on our home. Perhaps you should answer these questions first.
¡°Okay...¡± The voice was right. She was the one intruding. She didn¡¯t really have a right to make demands. But she still had another question. ¡°Why can¡¯t I see you?¡±
Light shimmered in front of her, over the field of frozen ghouls. Many lights that sparkled and sizzled, ranging in color from red to yellow to blue, like a swarm of bioluminescent insects all buzzing their wings. Jenny stepped back, holding her hatchet defensively with both hands, trying to figure out what was coming. Was this some new monster? Some other creature that would try to eat her? She was so sick and tired of fighting for her life. But if these things were going to attack, why communicate? Why give her any warning? The lights rained down on the ghouls, sparkling and glimmering like shooting stars all concentrated in one area.
When a light splattered onto a ghoul, the body began to glow. The snow melted away from its head and limbs, and with several cracks, the frozen creature¡¯s joints moved, and it returned to life.
Its head turned. Blue flames alighted in its eye sockets, as though someone had just turned on a gas stove, and Jenny gripped her hatchet tight, ready to strike it down. Was this some new form of ghoul? Would it try to eat her too?
This body hungers...
She bit her lip, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. Every instinct in her body told her to attack before the creatures got up. Before they were fully awake.
But it was communicating. It wasn¡¯t a mindless monster. It wasn¡¯t like the angels.
The fist ghoul¡¯s limbs twitched, and it stood, head lolling back, chest protruded forward as its arms swung uselessly. It moved unsteadily on its feet like a puppet held by strings. With a shaking step forward, it righted itself and more blue fire spilled from its eyes, rising upward so that they looked like two flickering horns jutting out of the ghoul¡¯s head. Jenny couldn¡¯t help but stare. In the empty eye sockets sat two balls of flame, like miniature blue stars.
Demon (Vesseled) (stage iv)
Jennys heart sank. The demon was stage iv. It didn¡¯t have a level, but it wasn¡¯t NULL either like Yeshua had been. Cold sweat ran down her back. What did Vesseled mean? Was that referring to the ghoul¡¯s body?
The other ghouls were standing as well. Some with orange flames. Others with red or yellow or white. And they ranged from stage i to stage iii, but there weren''t any other stage iv¡¯s or anything higher. None of the others had blue flames.
Within moments, there was a small crowd of them. Their heads lolled like they were too heavy for their shoulders, but the one in the lead, the only one with burning blue eyes, took another shaking step toward Jenny. Its head swerved back before falling forward, chin bumping its chest as its arms waved back and forth, trying to find its balance.
Her body twitched, ready to run away, ready to fight, but unable to decide. Were they a threat? The ghouls already had cartoonish features, with those bulbous heads and thin limbs, but as the demons stumbled around, struggling to right themselves, she wasn¡¯t sure how to respond.
Their eyes burned brilliantly, and the bloody red sheen of the ghouls¡¯ bodies faded away, returning back to white so that they blended in with their surroundings. If it wasn¡¯t for their fiery eyes, Jenny would''ve lost track of them.
What are you? Asked the first demon, its mouth opening and closing, teeth clacking in a repetitive pattern, like watching a low budget animation where the audio and the lips were out of sync. The voice was still inside her head.
Was the demon moving its mouth to pretend it was talking? Or was it imitating her? She took a step back, trying not to appear afraid. Trying to stay calm. She glanced back at the deaths then back at the demons as more frozen ghouls came to life, their eye sockets filling with flames. A strange sense of panic clung to her limbs, and more snow continued to fall.
Was this going to be another fight?
If they were limited to their ghoul bodies, then all she had to do was strike them down. ¡°I¡¯m human.¡±
A strange human. The demon¡¯s mouth opened and closed again as it spoke. Snowflakes touched down and melted all over its bulbous head, sizzling and evaporating where it reached the blue flames of the demon¡¯s eyes. We seek your light. You have a gift.
¡°My light?¡± asked Jenny. Other ghouls shook themselves free of the ice and stood with burning eyes. There could''ve been a hundred o them by now, standing behind the demon with blue eyes, gathering like an army rising out of the snow. ¡°What do you want with my light?¡±
It seemed to be glaring at her, the blue flames growing larger and larger. Then its teeth clacked. Its static voice flitted between her ears. Restitution.
80. A warm body
¡°Restitution?¡± she whispered. She got the sense it wanted something from her.
We require more bodies, said the demon. It took another shaky step toward her, foot sliding on the frozen ground. Snow blew into its flames and evaporated. Droplets ran down the sides of its oversized ghoul head, glistening. It almost looked like a Jack-o''-lantern, except instead of a pumpkin, it was made out of snow.
Jenny glanced at the fields worth of frozen ghouls. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got plenty of ghouls to pick from. So how about you leave us alone?¡± She chewed on the inside of her lip, blinking snowflakes from her eyes.
The demon didn¡¯t waver. We require more.
¡°What? How¡¯s that not enough?¡±
We number in billions. It cocked its head as if to size her up, the flames seemingly turning as it did so.
She shivered. She told herself that it was due to the cold, but when the demon took another step, she stumbled back. Jenny hadn¡¯t meant to; she didn¡¯t want to appear weak or frightened. But she couldn¡¯t help it. She knew what the demon wanted. What they would want.
Your body is so warm, it said, mouth clacking open and shot. And the many behind you... so warm. They will suffer in this world without our flames.
¡°Suffer?¡± she repeated. She swallowed hard. ¡°You¡¯re just going to possess us, aren¡¯t you?¡± Shit. Shit. Shit. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what to say or do. She couldn¡¯t open another passageway again. Not yet at least. She¡¯d have to fight them.
Could she eve fight them?
You cannot defeat us in battle, said the demon, straightening its head. You cannot escape. There is nowhere to run. Submit and your bodies will be of use. Your bodies will be relinquished when we are restored.
¡°No!¡± shouted Jenny, throwing her hatchet as hard as she could in the freezing cold. Savage Throw.
It whistled through the snow and struck the demon on its bulbous ghoul head with a thwack, snapping its head back. The long, white arms flailed like the creature was trying to find its balance. But then it slid on its heel and landed on the ice with a hard thud.
Did that... get it? Her lips stung from the cold, she balled up her fists, willing her armor to grow back over her fingers and cover them. It didn¡¯t help much, but at least the wind wasn¡¯t directly hitting her skin. She only wished she could go back and fetch her helmet.
Flames still flickered from the ghoul¡¯s eyes, and there was no notification of having defeated a creature or of Energy gained. She hadn¡¯t hurt it. The other demons, nearly two dozen of them, stepped forward in unison.
Their eyes burned in various shades. Two of them were red, they were stage i. She wasn¡¯t afraid of them in the least, but some were yellow and white, stage ii and stage iii, and flames flickered all over their ghoul bodies like they were charging up for an attack.
But before they could make their move, the first demon¡¯s arm shot up in the air, fingers stretched out. Refrain from attack! We require her light.
Jenny grimaced as the demon got to its feet, her hatchet¡¯s handle sticking out from between its burning eyes like a bizarre unicorn horn. With a flash of light, she summoned it back, wishing the ghoul body would just disintegrate from the blow.
There was an ugly gash on its head, cracks stretching away from the point of impact. But it was glowing... it was liquid. It looked like glowing blue liquid that flowed thickly inside the creature like gelatinous blood.
I will retrieve her light.
Its blue flames pulses, growing larger and larger with every flicker, and Jenny couldn¡¯t help but remember the bright blue light emanating from the Desecrated Angel she¡¯d fought nearly to the death. She thought back to the blue of Susan''s armor. Of Susan''s hair. The blue of the sky on a sunny day. Then the flames went out. As though the demon had been a strange candle and someone had blown it out.
The ghoul, now free, stumbled forward, shivering, its mouth opened wide as it tried to stand. A scream formed at the base of its throat, but even as it straightened up, frost spread across its limbs, and the creature froze. The ugly crack no longer filled by blue light.
Before Jenny could respond ¨C she wanted to hack the ghoul into tiny bits so that the demon couldn¡¯t get back inside, she saw the sparkling, hovering array of lights again. Shimmering like little blue stars, they rose over the frozen ghoul before shooting toward her. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
She swung her hatchet. The edge sliced through the air, doing absolutely nothing to the sparkling lights that zipped past her weapon. For a second, she saw the brightness up close, a flash of blue dots, the ghost of an outline, like a blueprint of what almost appeared to be a person. The silhouette of a hand reached for her, and then it struck her in the face.
The force knocked her onto her back, and she could feel the demon. A wriggling crawling sensation burned into her face, as though the light was climbing up her nose or burrowing into her pores or dissolving into her eyes.
Wait, wait, wait!
She wanted to shout, but she could only think the words. Her body wouldn¡¯t respond. Panic surged through her limbs, but she couldn¡¯t even curl a finger. No matter what she tried to move, all she got was a tingling feeling, like pins and needles when her foot would fall asleep. It spread through her chest and up into her brain.
A choked breath slipped out of her throat as her lungs relinquished control to the demon. And then, as though someone had plugged a cable in, a jolt of electricity shot through her. She swore it flashed between every wrinkle of her brain and that she could see it. She could see the demon.
A demon! It was humanoid with long arms, but instead of flesh, it was made of rippling blue flames that curled and billowed inward and upward. Burning wings spread from its back; this was a creature of fire.
Get out, she whispered silently. A tear slipped out the corner of one eye, trailing down her face. Her body remained still on the ground, unmoving; she wasn¡¯t even blinking. She stared up at the clouds as snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes, as they landed on the fluid of her eyeballs. Snow tickled her nose and her lips, and the coldness of the ground threatened to consume her.
Her eyes burned. Her lungs burned. She needed to blink. She needed to inhale. She needed to swallow the saliva pooling at the back of her throat. I¡¯m going to drown! Her body was shutting down; did the demon want her to die? If it was possessing her, then shouldn¡¯t it be doing all these things?
Blink!
Swallow!
Scream!
Then realization struck her: the demon wasn¡¯t in control.
It couldn¡¯t completely take over; all it had done was block her off. It couldn¡¯t operate her body.
Surrender! it cried, its silhouette emerging in her thoughts again. Flames curled upward over its head. Its eyes were two bright dots of light. Its face was a mask of fury.
Jenny almost laughed. She wasn¡¯t sure where they were; it seemed like some strange space inside her head. A dreamscape? Her imagination?
She felt disconnected from her body. From the world. From the pain.
I¡¯m dying. She could see that through her open eyes, could feel it through her aching limbs. Her body was dying. She was sick of dying.
You are not human, said the demon, its form flickering, its voice bursting with static. She could feel its rage, as though she¡¯d done the demon dirty, tricked it somehow.
I guess not, thought Jenny, wanting to berate the demon further. We¡¯re both going to die in here. But then she realized what had happened. Why the demon couldn¡¯t take complete control.
I¡¯m Desecrated.
Something screamed inside her. Cold wind sent an involuntary shudder up her spine, something neither she nor the demon could control. She¡¯d felt this before. When she¡¯d been trapped within her own flesh, confined to some corner of her mind while something else had taken control. While that something else surrendered to her darkest desires.
But this time, there was nothing. Nothing was in control. The demon couldn¡¯t take over, and she felt an odd sharpness, like a dagger cutting into her thoughts ¨C it was cutting through the demon¡¯s thoughts. The demon was afraid!
If her body died while it was inside, it would die too. And a part of her thought: this was her chance. To defeat it. To take it with her. But she didn¡¯t want to die. She had to live. There was work to be done.
Just concentrate. With thought. With intention. The same way she¡¯d used Severed Spirit on the pillars, the same way she¡¯d cut through the fabric of the worlds ¨C she concentrated and reached for the demon scrambling to seize control of her body. She hadn¡¯t decided whether she wanted to push it out, force it out of her like a breath of foul air, but when her mind made contact with the demon¡¯s, sparks ignited. Lights flickered through her mind, and Jenny saw into the creature¡¯s soul.
No! cried the demon. Its blue flames rippled all around the thought space. Its wings spread. But Jenny¡¯s arm twitched. Her toes curled inside her armor. She closed one eye and opened it again before doing the same with the other. After a small gasp, a tiny inhale, the pressure eased off her lungs. She could breathe. Ever so slightly, but she could breathe. Warm air escaped her lips.
The other demons lurched closely, standing over her, waiting. Orange and yellow flames spilled out of their eyes, but they didn¡¯t speak. Could they speak?
No, they cannot. Demons are not creatures who speak in words. Demons communicate through fluctuations in temperature, through presence. Demons don''t even have a concept of language. No societies. No genders.
But these words weren¡¯t spoken. The demon wasn¡¯t speaking to her... no. She was inside the demon¡¯s mind. She was readings its thoughts as though it were an open book.
And she realized how the demon had gotten inside her: fear. It wanted her to be afraid... her fear, her worries, her emotions had given the demon an opening to access her. All demon communication was that. Emotions. Temperature. Light.
Another scream. A pained scream; she was falling through the demon¡¯s mind. Blue flames and fear and rage. There was so much rage inside the demon. Another inhale. A shudder. She wasn¡¯t sure who was shuddering, but images flashed through her mind.
It was the demon¡¯s life:
It was born a tiny dot of darkness, no bigger than a speck of dust. It floated through emptiness for countless years, slowly growing larger, heavier and denser, soaking up the light and warmth around it until it folded into itself. Until it compressed and compressed, vibrating with an intense desire to unfold, to express itself on the space around it, to know, to feel, to understand ¨C it exploded in a burst of brilliant colors, a supernova. Thus, the demon hatched.
81. Burning memories
Pinks and blues. Swirls of bright red and whites. Clouds of purples and greens, scattering the demon¡¯s growing body far and wide in the darkness. For a long time, for centuries, millions of years, for so long that time was no longer consequential, it existed as a mass of dust and warmth.
But bit by bit, with each passing century, it began to converge, reconstituting itself, forming around twin cores of light. Two bright spheres that gathered all that substance, all the clouds of dust and matter, and the silhouette of a body shimmered into shape. It was almost humanoid ¨C or perhaps it preceded the human shape. Long and slender with two limbs extending for legs and two more for arms. And once it finished its celestial metamorphosis, it descended from the heavens, falling out of the sky like a shooting star.
Jenny saw the Demon World. This world. Before the ice. It was a landscape of rocks with pools of lava and fires that burned like forests made of flame. A clear sky sprawled overhead, a sky filled with enormous stars ¨C No. They weren¡¯t stars. They were incubating demons born in the sky, waiting to go supernova.
THIS IS NOT FOR YOU TO SEE - crackled the radio static voice of the demon trying to take over her body. It scratched through her mind, and the memories faded as the demon¡¯s burning blue and purple eyes rose from the darkness.
A burning hot rage filled her chest. Jenny sucked in a deep breath, expanding her diaphragm completely ¨C no, it wasn¡¯t her taking the breath. The Demon was inhaling with her body. A burning feeling climbed up her throat and through her skull to alight on her face. Her vision flashed blue, burning, and she didn¡¯t need a mirror to know that fire was streaming out of her eyes just as it had done for the ghoul.
Not again, she swore, trying to reel in her mind, trying to root out the demon. But she could feel it digging, burrowing. Every time she tried to grasp it, it slipped out of her grasp and struck deeper. It was clawing through her fears, trying to pry her open, forcing itself into every orifice of her thoughts. Visions of Susan flashed. Her smile. Her hair. Her corpse. Her glowing hand. Light.
The light, came the demon¡¯s static voice, higher pitched than before. Give me the light. Open the worlds again. My people cannot survive here. My people need warmth. My people demand salvation.
Yeah? Jenny forced her body to take the next deep breath. In the split second of the demon¡¯s excitement at seeing the light, its stranglehold relaxed. Her eyes shut and opened. She squirmed on the ground, but it hadn¡¯t been enough. The demon rooted through her life.
Her childhood memories blew through the mind space. The demon saw Jenny¡¯s desperation to leave home; it saw her mom. It felt her crying and sobbing as she was screamed at, as she was hit, as she was trying to hide under the bed ¨C Jenny threw herself back into the demon¡¯s memories. She didn¡¯t need to relive any of her life, but if she could find something, anything, that would help her win control of her body, if she could distract it from opening the wounds of her own life, maybe she could -
Flames, orange and blue, erupted from her body. From her skin. From her armor. It was using Ignite, mixing her flames with its own.
Her eyes burned furiously, and any snow that drifted onto her melted away. Steam rose from the ground around her, enveloping her as it hid the world away, and she could no longer tell what was inside her head and what was in the world. Choking sounds filled her throat as she rolled over onto her stomach, wriggling and struggling, splashing in the water as she continued to burn.
A wind blew, clearing the view, and she looked up to see the crowd of deaths. The girl that Jenny had woken, moved toward Jenny, eyes wide, wanting to help.
¡°Stay back!¡± she gasped, but then another voice, deeper and uglier, tore out of her throat.
¡°Do not interfere!¡±
Her body turned over again. Her head snapped toward the demons who¡¯d been closing in, their ghoul bodies sauntering, arms swinging. Their eyes burned.
¡°Do not interfere,¡± rasped the voice from her throat again. ¡°We need this body. We need its light.¡±
The light! That¡¯s what it wants more than anything, and that realization mingled with the demon¡¯s mind ¨C the demon¡¯s desire was the way out. That was its weakness.
They both pictured the light of the passageway, golden and bursting with colors, and how Jenny had opened it. She showed the demon the exact memory, the exact hurt of how she¡¯d torn the worlds open before healing it. And that gave her just enough access to the demon¡¯s emotions to slip through.
Her body went rigid, back arching as she cried out. Was it a cry of triumph or the demon¡¯s cry of fear, she couldn¡¯t tell. But then she was freefalling again through the demon¡¯s memories. Its own hurt. The desperate reason it wanted her light.
Battle spread all around her. Was this a Survival Challenge? Some other kind of fight? She couldn¡¯t tell, but she was sure it was grim.
Countless figures, humanoid silhouettes made out of flame, the fires of their eyes rising like enormous flickering horns, and their wings, magnificent and wide, feathery and burning with little bits falling away to fizzle out. They had fearsome burning claws extending from their hands; the Army of Demons.
Angels swooped down from the sky, brilliant burst of colorful lights, white wings flapping powerfully. In their hands were shining swords and glassy spears. The demons rose from the ground, and the collision was cataclysmic.
Burning claws melted through angels. Weapons made of light sliced demons in half. Bodies exploded. Fire and lightning and wind blew around every single one of them; the elements raged on as well.
Fierce gusts blew away weaker demons and angels. Rivers of water gushed through the air, and geysers of lava burst from the ground. Some demons flew into a group of angels and exploded, lighting up the sky in a show of color and light nearly as bright as the sun. And there was so much color ¨C reds and oranges and blues. So much light, and they were so beautiful, Jenny swore the stars were battling. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
But the memories were hazy; she was in the demon¡¯s body, looking through its memories with its own eyes.
It felt responsible for the massacre. For the dead on both sides of the war. Demons and Angels alike. It was chosen to lead... not it. A he. He identified with masculinity, something he¡¯d adopted for himself after observing the angels. And this demon identified as Iblis, a name given to the demon by an angel called Sat¡¯en.
Iblis had loved Sat¡¯en.
A weighty feeling surfaced through these thoughts: longing, duty, responsibility, regret. Iblis had led the other demons in rebellion, following in the footsteps of the angel he loved. Fighting against an enemy that didn¡¯t have much hope in defeating, but a burning desire for change fueled Iblis. They had no choice in the fight.
Through his eyes, Jenny saw the other demons, floating in circles around Iblis so that everywhere he turned, shimmering silhouettes with burning eyes looked back at him ¨C they had chosen him as their leader.
The next memory shifted like smoke. Iblis¡¯ wings spread and flapped, the burning feathers generating heat and lift, and he looked down at the world as he flew through sky. Volcanos dotted the land as far as she could see. Rivers of lava thrummed across the land like veins. And above shone the stars, each one burning brilliantly.
Iblis loved the stars; they were his birthplace; they were his children. But they reminded him of the angel he loved.
Jenny couldn¡¯t see that angel no matter how much she searched. She tried to root deeper through the demon¡¯s mind, but those memories were blocked away. No, it was worse than that. Most of the memories of Sat¡¯en were forgotten.
Through Iblis¡¯ eyes she saw the sky rip open - a deep gash between the stars, like a jagged wound. As though someone had taken a knife to a painting of the night sky, and from that horrible darkness, poured out the angels.
Tarnished Angels plummeted from the wound. Unable to fly, their thin arms and legs flapped and kicked uselessly, their gaunt faces screaming as they dropped like stones. They landed on the molten ground, breaking apart into burning bits upon impact. Some landed on demons, dragging them down, flames billowing behind them.
Flying gracefully between the Tarnished Angels were the natural angels, holding swords as brightly colored as their bodies.
The memories came distorted and quickly. At first, she was in Iblis¡¯ body, his burning claws raking a purple wretched angel. He tore a tarnished angel in half, guts and blood splattering on the rivers of lava. A spear made of green light flashed through his arm but his burning body regenerated as quickly as the blow. The green angel didn¡¯t even get to respond; Iblis clawed its head off, and the angel disintegrated into vapor.
She couldn¡¯t tell who was winning. She saw angels sucking up demons, inhaling the glowing flames that seemed to comprise the demon¡¯s silhouette form. But she saw just as many angels struck down, cut into pieces or scorched to ashes. Iblis cut open desecrated angels, blood bursting every direction. He flew through the battle field like a bullet train, and corpses rained down, angels and demons alike as the demons rose higher and higher, trying to get to the gaping wound where the angels kept pouring from the darkness.
She could feel Iblis¡¯ determination. His desire for victory. For freedom. But a ghost of a face appeared, burning red eyes and an evil grin that was too wide. A large shadowy hand curled into an enormous fist and struck Iblis down from the sky.
A name popped into Iblis¡¯ mind, into Jenny¡¯s: Azra¡¯il, the Angel of Death.
A shudder rippled through the mindscape ¨C the enormous angel flapped four hideous bat-like wings and rushed down. Azra¡¯il¡¯s wide muscular frame seemed to take up the entire sky, and as he closed in, reaching for Iblis with one hand, she saw the angel¡¯s face. The look of sheer glee as Azra¡¯il¡¯s fingers closed around Iblis¡¯ throat ¨C around Jenny¡¯s throat as she was seeing through Iblis¡¯ eyes, feeling through Iblis¡¯ body.
A part of her wanted to feel happy watching the demon lose, but she felt his pain and anguish, and beyond the pain, a deep, cutting feeling of regret. The burning feeling of regret that she knew all too well.
Iblis the demon, chosen by his people, had done something horrible, something dreadful. Something that had cursed his entire people.
He had fallen in love. He had led his people into a war they could not win. He had-
There were gaps in Iblis¡¯ memories. Flashes of Azra¡¯il¡¯s dark gray face. She noted that he was the only angel wearing cloth. It looked like a loincloth made from leather. And a necklace of skulls bounced all over his broad gray chest as he punched Iblis repeatedly. Fists the size of boulders. Snakes that lunged from his head and snapped at Iblis¡¯ wings.
The demons had lost. Everything blurred. Jenny was falling, the dizzying sensation of tumbling from a great distance ¨C no, the demon was falling, burning up in the air, losing its silhouette as it crashed into desolate rock below. All around her, the other demons fell from the bursting stars, and the shadow above, the darkness, was sizzling away.
Snow began to fall. Gently at first, but with every passing second, the storm picked up, and a furious blizzard enveloped the world.
The flames of the demons rippled. Iblis¡¯ blue fires struggled as the ground froze. As the warmth and heat faded away. He and his people succumbed to the cold, their bodies slowing down to a standstill ¨C and he/Jenny looked up to see Azra¡¯il towering over it all, a cruel fist raised to the sky. The angel was draining all the heat from the world, and he was laughing. Laughing so loudly that his laughter became thunder that rolled across the sky, fading only as Azara¡¯il vanished in a flash of darkness.
Cold became the only memory, spreading like frost across a windshield. It was all Iblis felt. It was all he¡¯d known. The coldness that sapped all his strength, his ability to maintain form. He and his demons drifted across the frozen world, moving gently with the wind, with no care for self, with no desire for self.
Without warmth, they had no idea of self, and nobody could tell him apart from the others ¨C and he was grateful. The sense of responsibility dulled; his regret dull; his broken heart faded away.
Centuries curled up and crumbled away; millennia passed by. How many oscillations around the Material World? They lost track of all meaning, but the demons didn¡¯t die.
They couldn¡¯t die. Billions of demons languished in their world, stuck in place, all of them still and calm, comatose like fish asleep in a frozen lake. With no thoughts to be shared, no emotions what so ever, a quiet world where the only sounds are the muffled softness of snowflakes landing on piling snow.
But burning discreetly, hidden away, a familiar desire to break free. For revenge. For love. A nurtured secret want.
Iblis¡¯ buried wants; to live his life. To escape from this frozen, cold world. To rise up to the heavens and tear the angels down from the sky. Something he kept hidden away, lamenting and lost, drifting through the snow and blinking away centuries of sleep, until one day, the snow parted.
The wind curved, and temperature rippled through the world. A little opening appeared in the air, and golden light bloomed. Colors and heat spread across the world, chasing the wind, fading, but it was enough.
Iblis shifted from the snow. His fellow demons began to move again, their particles, their sparkling essences growing excited. They rushed over to the parting in the air, sensing the warmth of the other worlds, a warmth they had not felt in so long that it stung, it burned.
He wished so desperately to slip through this gap and leave this frozen hurt, but then a human tumbled out of the light. A girl with swishing tentacles, and a partial red exoskeleton, and the blank, white eyes of the tarnished ones.