by T. R. Hamby
She looked at Ceres. “You’ll have to act like Gilla is an unexpected extra, like you’ve kidnapped her….make her look enticing….and Gabriel and I will wait downstairs, so Persephone doesn’t know there are reinforcements.”
Ceres was nodding thoughtfully. “Yes….she’ll take the bait. She loves crying women.”
Michael hissed, and she smiled.
“Keep your armor on, at least,” he insisted, turning to Gilla.
“No. She looks vulnerable without it,” Ceres said, and now Michael looked ready to strangle her.
“How do we explain her Presence?” Gabriel asked, while Gilla removed her armor.
“We don’t,” Nora replied. “She’ll think Gilla’s an Angel.”
Ceres frowned, confused. “She’s not?”
Nora shot her a dirty look. “It’s all we got. And we’re running low on time, so let’s go.”
Gilla dropped her armor to the floor, and Michael swore, pulling her into his arms. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Enough,” Ceres snapped. “She’s made her choice. Let’s fucking go.”
It appeared to be a large apartment building, almost twenty storeys, and obviously empty. Ceres Traveled them there by twos, until only Gilla was left. She gave Gilla a little smirk as she took her hand.
“Don’t fuck this up,” she sneered, and Gilla felt a wave of anger.
I won’t, she thought, and after I’ve done Persephone, I’ll kill you next.
Her feet landed on marble flooring, and she looked around. They were in a sort of lobby, facing a set of elevator doors. Nora and Gabriel would stay down there for exactly five minutes, the distance masking their Presence, and then come up.
Ceres, Michael, Mel and Gilla got in the elevator. Michael held Gilla’s hand tightly, so tight that it hurt. She knew he was terrified for her, but she was ready. She wasn’t afraid--just angry. Very angry. So was Mel, she could tell, as the elevator was cool. Ceres shivered and told him to knock it off.
When they reached the floor right below the penthouse they got into position. An anxious Michael, and a furious Mel, stood behind Ceres and Gilla. Ceres held Gilla by the hair, and Gilla hunched over, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.
The doors opened. Let the game begin.
It was a penthouse, sparsely decorated, with some couches and a kitchen in the corner.
And in front of them--god, no--was Barry, covered in blood, being held against a small Angel, her hand around his throat. He was shaking, and red in the face; Gilla knew that the Angel was squeezing. She had a bandana around her right eye, a shaved head, and was wearing her own set of armor. A sword hung at her side.
Persephone.
To her right was a tall, fit Angel with red hair, armorless. And to her left was a male and a female Angel, both well-armored, holding their swords at the ready.
Ceres dragged Gilla roughly into the room, yanking her so violently that Gilla stumbled. She could hear Michael and Mel following behind, could feel the slight chill of Mel’s badly suppressed anger.
“Drop them,” Persephone said.
They halted, and Gilla heard a clatter as Michael and Mel’s swords hit the ground. She knew Michael had two swords….one was for her….
Persephone frowned, studying them over Barry’s left shoulder.
She scowled. “You said there were only three of them, you fucking bitch.”
“I thought there were. She must have been hiding inside the house. A mate. Screamed when she saw me,” Ceres said, and she yanked on Gilla’s hair.
Gilla did her best to look pathetic. She clutched Cere’s wrist, grimacing, slumping weakly on the marble floor.
Now Persephone smirked. She must have squeezed, because Barry choked, gripping her wrist. His right hand was bloody, swollen, and missing two fingers.
“I see,” she purred, looking Gilla up and down.
She giggled girlishly. “What’s wrong, love? You’re shaking like a leaf.”
Gilla was shaking, but again, it wasn’t out of fear.
She glanced at her siblings. “She looks lovely, doesn’t she?” she grinned, and they nodded, leering.
She looked at Gilla, ignoring the wriggling Barry pressed against her. “Come here, love.”
Ceres let her go, and Gilla stumbled. She pretended to catch her breath, and then slowly, shakily, made her way to Persephone’s feet. Barry was still struggling, red-faced and sweating, looking down on Gilla with horror on his face. Persephone, on the other hand, was delighted, smiling a smooth smile, eyeing Gilla hungrily.
She reached out a hand.
Just then there was a growl, and Persephone looked up. A knife--Michael’s knife--appeared in Gilla’s vision, headed straight for Persephone’s head, and she ducked, releasing Barry.
And then several things happened at once.
Barry dropped to the floor. The elevator dinged behind them. Raziel seemed to explode, shooting a jet of flames at Michael. Mel jumped just in time and was engulfed; he vanished it and ran at Raziel, bowling him over. Michael grabbed a sword and sent it sliding across the marble to Gilla. He grasped his own sword, and he and Gabriel charged Horus and Valor, and the air filled with the sound of metal clanging against metal.
Nora stood there at the elevator, looking around desperately, and Gilla grabbed Barry by the seat of his pants and sent him sliding across the marble to her feet.
Then she turned, teeth bared, just as Persephone drove a Blade deep into her heart.
Nora
“NO!” she screamed, watching as Gilla stared bewildered at the Blade sticking out of her chest. She collapsed, and Nora clapped a hand to her mouth.
Not Gilla….god, not Gilla….please no….she was supposed to be special….
Persephone knelt beside her, wrenching her Blade out of Gilla’s chest and grabbing a fistful of her hair. Nora screeched and ran forward, but stopped short, her heart stalling.
Gilla was stirring. Persephone watched, apparently too shocked to move, as Gilla sat up, swaying slightly. She saw her sword on the ground, and shakily picked it up.
Persephone scrambled to her feet, backing away, stunned. Gilla looked around, shook her head as if to clear it, and eased herself onto her feet. She swayed again, but then turned, caught sight of Persephone, and raised her sword.
There was a small moment as they appraised each other.
Then Persephone screamed, as if throwing a tantrum, and charged her.
And they fought.
“Katie,” Barry said shakily, pulling on Nora’s arm.
With great difficulty Nora looked away from Gilla. Barry was very pale, holding his disfigured hand against his chest.
“Katie, she’s locked in there; help me,” he pleaded, and she followed him to a door just down a short hall.
Someone was pounding behind it, screaming for help. The door was covered in chains--but that didn’t matter to Nora. She was as strong as an Angel now.
“Stand back!” she called.
She shoved her foot through the knob, and the chains exploded, the door flying open. A young woman, looking a mess and sobbing, ran out and threw her arms around Barry.
“I thought they were killing you,” she cried.
“No time, Katie,” Barry said, taking her hand. “We’ve got to go.”
But then a strong hand caught hold of Nora’s wrist, yanking her sword from her hand. Then she was lifted, and thrown into the room. She hit the wall and tumbled to the floor.
Katie screamed, and she looked up, disoriented.
It was Ceres. She had her hands on Katie, struggling as Barry picked up the sword and swung it at her left-handed.
Nora got to her feet--she could feel a broken ankle healing--and withdrew a knife. She hurled it at Ceres’ head, but Ceres ducked just in time. Nora charged, withdrawing another knife. Ceres dropped Katie and backed away, holding up two fighting hands, and they sparred, Nora swinging her Blade, and Ceres cutting swipes and punches.
Gilla
She was very dizzy, and stumbled as she and Persephone moved across the apartment. But even so, Persephone seemed to have lost her nerve; she was shrieking, her eyes wide with fear.
Persephone leapt back and raised a hand. Gilla felt a slight pull on her neck, a gentle tug, but she resisted, and Persephone screamed with rage.
Gilla swung, and her Blade sliced across her bicep. Persephone screamed again, and they resumed their dueling, their swords clashing.
“Why--won’t--you--DIE!” she screeched, and Gilla smirked.
They were unmatched; Gilla was the better fighter, and Persephone was losing--losing, and so close to death. Her face was pale, her hands shook, blood flew from the wound in her arm.
Gilla’s anger surged, and her dizziness left her. She was close, so close.
Mel
Raziel was trying to burn every last damn one of them.
He sent jets of fire across the room, narrowly frying his own siblings. Mel jumped this way and that, shielding his family with his own body. His shirt burned to tatters, and flames danced on his skin. Raziel laughed maniacally, and taunted Mel as they danced.
“I’m going to fuck everyone one of these bitches after I kill you,” he sneered, grinning evilly. “I’m going to make them scream like animals.”
Mel roared, and he charged him again, sending both of them to the ground. They rolled, punching and grabbing. Mel got him on his back and sent his fist flying into his face, his arm still orange with flames. Raziel snatched his throat and squeezed, shoving him onto his back. Mel struggled, sending his knee into Raziel’s ribs, but Raziel was strong.
Lights popped in Mel’s eyes. He jerked, but Raziel wouldn’t let go.
Michael
“Get down!”
Michael and Gabriel dropped as a jet of flames shot over them. Michael growled as the heat singed his hair.
He looked; Raziel was free of Mel, who was lying unconscious on the floor. He sent another bolt of fire at them, and he and Gabriel rolled out of the way.
“You’re going to hit us, shithead!” Valor shouted, ducking.
Gabriel ran forward, roaring, and sent his Blade into his head.
Valor dropped, and Horus screamed. She slashed Gabriel with her Blade, and he shouted, resuming their dueling. He struggled, stretching out a hand, trying to suppress her strength, but she swung her Blade wildly, dangerously.
Michael looked in time to see another wall of flames, and ducked. The flames expired--Mel was behind Raziel, his arm tight around his neck, strangling him.
Michael picked up his sword and ran a few paces. “Mel!”
He tossed the sword, and Mel caught it. He stepped away, and--before Raziel could get his breath back--swung the Blade and lopped off his head.
Barry
They were both beginning to tire. Ceres bore some lacerations, and Nora had been boxed in the ear. Ceres was blocking the way out, and Katie huddled against the wall while Barry shielded her, sword still in hand.
Nora sent her Blade across Ceres’ face, drawing blood, and for a moment Ceres looked shocked. Then she screamed, grabbed Nora by the hair, and sent her flying backward. Nora hit the wall and didn’t move, and the Blade skittered to Ceres’ feet.
Ceres turned to Barry and Katie, and he swung at her. She ducked, grabbed his throat, and threw him hard into the floor.
For some reason he didn’t feel pain, except in his hand. He looked around. Ceres grabbed Katie and sent her into the floor right beside him. She picked up Nora’s knife, still standing, and held it up.
Barry knew what she was going to do. He rolled, throwing himself over Katie’s body, and felt the Blade bury itself into his throat.
Ceres growled and shoved him away. Pain overwhelmed him, and he clutched his throat as blood spilled onto the floor and into his lungs. He coughed and spluttered, choking, and stared at the ceiling above. His heart raced in his chest, and his lungs seared. Ceres stood over him and watched, smiling.
Don’t die don’t die don’t die, he told himself, as his vision clouded.
God, the last thing he was going to see was that bitch. He struggled, trying desperately to stay alive, to just breathe.
But he couldn’t breathe anymore, and too much blood had left him. His hands fell away, and his heart stopped.
Barry was gone.
Gilla
Persephone screamed again, her hands getting weaker and weaker.
“Please,” she said, and Gilla realized she was begging. “Please--I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”
Gilla was crowding her, and now their Blades were barely swinging.
Persephone finally dropped her sword, sobbing, and fell to her knees. “Please….”
Gilla stood over her, disgusted. What a pathetic excuse for a creature. She took out her knife, and Persephone screamed. Her one eye was very blue, and Gilla could see the light in it, the precious last moments of her wasted life.
She whisked the Blade across her throat.
Persephone choked, immediately grasping at the wound. She went pale, shivering, looking up at Gilla with a still-pleading look on her face. Blood gushed, splashed onto the marble. It was only a moment before Persephone crumpled to the floor.
There was a pause, and then Gilla let out a blissful breath. Her heart beat very slowly, and her hands were steady as she put her knife away. Triumph overwhelmed her, and she studied the body until it vanished, leaving behind armor and clothes.
There was a clanging of swords behind her, and Gilla turned around, smooth and steady. Gabriel and Michael were fighting the last Angel, a female, who was giving them a fierce fight. Just at that moment she swung her sword, nearly burying it into Gabriel’s side. Michael parried, and she growled like an animal.
She raised her weapon, and at the same time Gilla raised her hand. She felt a tremendous pull in her fingers, radiating up her arm. Her skin prickled, flushed and warm.
Gilla focused on the Angel, and calmly twitched her hand. The Angel’s arms jerked. She screamed as she swung her sword into her own gut.
Nora
Barry. Barry.
She stared at him, clearly deceased, and roared like thunder.
She extracted her last knife and threw it, sending it spinning towards Ceres’ head.
Ceres turned and tipped backward, disappearing into space. The knife clattered to the floor.
Nora let out a breath. She was gone.
Then she remembered herself, and ran to Barry, who was still. His eyes were staring. Blood soaked his lips and his throat. His hands were at his sides.
Nora moaned, touching his hair. No, Barry, no.
Barry
He was in his flat. The old flat he and his mother had lived in when he was young, when his dad was still around. It was a peaceful Place here, and it took him a long time to remember how he had gotten there. He felt his throat, felt the wound that had crushed his Adam’s apple. His fingers were still missing. His heart was still, and he wasn’t breathing.
He looked around. There was the fire engine he had always played with. And the television with the crack in the screen. The beat-up sofa, the crayon on the walls. He chuckled; Mum had been so mad when she had found him coloring on the wallpaper.
There was a creak behind him, and he turned.
He stared. If his heart had been beating, it would have stopped.
“Mum,” he whispered, staring at his mother standing before him.
She looked so young, so beautiful. Long brown hair, blue eyes like his. She was smiling, a wonderful smile, and he immediately began to cry.
He ran to her and hugged her, and she held him, shushing him, kissing him. She smelled so good, and he buried his head into her shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” he moaned. “Can you forgive me? I’m so sorry, Mum….”
“Shh. You’re always forgiven, darling,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair.
She pulled away, touched the tattoo on his neck. “This is beautiful. It suits you.
”
“It doesn’t. I was a coward, Mum.”
“You weren’t. You were sick. And now you’re better, and I’m so proud.”
He took a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t there when you died,” he whispered, and his voice broke.
“I know. I know.”
He brushed at his eyes, looked around again. “Is this Heaven?”
She shook her head. “This is a neutral Place.”
Barry nodded, though he was confused. “All right….do I….do I go to Heaven?”
Mum smiled. “No. You’re going back to Earth--if you choose it. You’re going to be Immortal.”
Barry stared at her. “What--God’s making me Immortal?”
“No--not God. Someone else.”
There was a silence.
He was bewildered; he had always been told there was only one god, who had all the power in the universe. “Who?”
“I can’t say,” she said calmly. “No one knows of Them, not even God himself. He’s been neglectful….he hasn’t been checking for rivals.”
Barry thought for a moment, completely mystified. “Is it just one?”
“Just one,” she replied, smiling. “They chose me to Ascend, after I died.”
“Ascend where?”
“To the next Realm. A different Place, almost like Earth.”
Barry was struggling to keep up.
“You’ll go there too, if you don’t want to return to Earth,” she continued. “But I think you’ll choose to go back.”
“So--They choose people to go up to this--this Place?”
She nodded. “They choose people--and Angels. They tend to choose the strong, and the lowly. Those that God hasn’t been kind to, and those who stand up for the weak.”
Barry smiled. “I know why They chose you, then. You’re the strongest person I know.”