Angel Descending

by Ethan Cooper

  The bells cut through the noise in my head, almost drowning out his words. “That hurt. I can’t believe you did that.”

  “That wasn’t me.”

  “It sure felt like you.”

  “You don’t know me very well then.”

  His laugh is a song of ringing bells. “That just means you don’t know me very well, Blue.”

  I’m sliding along the window, away from the broken section, hoping for some hint of his location. Can’t fight what I can’t see.

  (failed already)

  Two broken toes, cuts and bruises cover every limb, head’s pounding, blood is seeping behind my ear and down my neck, covered in sweat, smell like I haven’t showered in a month, missing my shirt, skin feels cold, hot, and chapped all at the same time, I’m thirsty, stomach is empty, mouth is dry, shivering, shaking with the effort of staying on my feet.

  All this, and waiting for his attack is the worst part.

  I don’t want to die.

  (just crumple let it happen)

  “What happens now?” I ask, wiping at my neck, where thin rivers of my blood are trying to trickle down onto my chest.

  “I won’t ever lie to you. So, when I tell you that you hurt me, it’s the truth.”

  “Tell me what happens next.” I’m inching toward the elevator, though I can’t bring myself to believe that he’ll let me. I can’t see him, while he knows my exact position in the room. He’ll take me when he chooses to.

  You can ignore truth. You can’t escape it.

  My fingers, creeping along the window, collide with his gloved hand. I snatch my hand back, not quick enough.

  His armor flares to life, bathing us both in red. His crown is like a fire on top of his head. He’s holding the bottom half of his mask in place with his other hand.

  “I didn’t say you could leave yet,” he says.

  Dammit, my words are coming out punctuated by weak little sobs. “It’s over. No more games. If you’re going to do it, then do it. You win. Please, just fucking tell me.” Sure, it’s through a layer of tears, but I look him right in those domes he has over his eyes when I say it.

  “You’re wrong about two things, Blue. It’s not over. It’s just beginning. And I didn’t win this time. You did.”

  He lets go of my hand. Unsupported, I find I don’t have will enough to resist gravity anymore, so I crumple to a slumping sitting position on the floor.

  “I’m not sure if you’re going to survive till the end, but I promise you one thing right here and now: I won’t be the one to kill you.”

  What the hell am I supposed to say to him? Thank you?

  “Now that we’ve settled this, it’s time to get you back out there. And to do that—oh, I guess you’re not going to like this part.”

  I hear something click. There’s a brief pain from my bandaged foot, and then the static vanishes. I’m breathing, and my heart is still beating, but every other muscle is dead to me. When my upper body rolls sideways until I’m laid out on my back, I really can’t feel anything. My toes, my legs, my arms, my hands.

  My paralysis is total.

  It’s a familiar sight to have Calamity Carl loom over me. “You’ve survived a great deal of pain here in this room. There is much more to come. It’s not going to be fun for either of us.” He kneels beside me, putting his head close to mine—how is that crown not falling off?—so he can speak gently in my ear. “I’m not supposed to do this, I’m really not. But I’m going to do it anyway! I’m going to help you remember. It’ll hurt. Not a physical type of hurt, but the type of hurt that aches where you can’t apply a bandage—the type of hurt that you carry with you forever.”

  Want to scream. Can’t.

  This world makes victims of us all.

  bzzzzzZZZZt!!!!!

  The static returns, low and insistent. I lie motionless. And just like before, Calamity Carl’s arms begin to slash across my body. As he cuts the clothes from my body, and just before the world begins to flash on and off like a failing lightbulb, he says a single word:

  “Remember.”

  46/Betray

  Unknown/Unknown

  Shadows in the alley hide his face, but a distant streetlight defines his silhouette in front of me, water on my cheeks, my neck, clothes damp and heavy against my body, the echo of my laughter fading, he’s still talking, why the hell is he still talking, need him to stop or I’m going to detonate, using my lips to shut him up works well, drawing him closer, the heat of his body a welcome shield from the rain, pressing harder against, I want him, more than I should, can’t stop myself, don’t want to stop, just want to feel all of him, want to feel…

  BLINK.

  …my body being dragged across the floor, only this time, he’s holding my ankles instead of my arms. It doesn’t hurt; nothing does. At least there’s that. Static buzzing through my brain is just an irritating sensation right now. He drops my feet, letting them fall to the floor, which would have had me screaming in agony, but thanks to…whatever it was he did to me, I feel nothing. He lifts me like I’m meaningless—just a lifeless doll for him to manipulate. I’m up against the wall of the shower, his hand at my lower back. I know the shower’s on now because I can see the water streaming down one thigh. I also know that…

  BLINK.

  …nobody saw me, even though my jacket glitters like moonlight on the ocean, head down though I don’t know why—there’s nothing special about me in this place, finding a quiet corner to crouch in, just behind some vendor selling vials filled with Erupt, reaching a hand into my jacket to retrieve the package, unwrapping it with trembling fingers, scanning the area for anybody watching me, just that one guy leaning down to adjust something on his boots, can’t be sure he was looking at me though, my belly rumbles, been awhile, don’t even allow myself time to smell it, shoving it in my mouth with all the grace of a mating eoa, it’s one of the ones with the red stuff in it, probably takes a year off my life, but it’s worth it, gone too soon, sucking the remnants off my fingers, lips sticky, too consumed with filling my stomach to notice their approach until they’ve surrounded me, three of them, one of the flunkies grabs my wrist, a modie, his fingers are machined metal stubs, cheap ones, looks like he did the wirework himself, bat my eyelashes and step up against his chest, this guy blinks confused, as if he’s never had a pretty girl close, the stench of his sweat mixed with that of the perfume I dabbed on this morning, hugging him has his hands up and his head swiveling back and forth between his companions, pushes me away with a palm to my forehead as he utters a particularly distasteful piece of slang for my girl parts, close both eyes as three small silver spheres drop from my left palm, a girl doesn’t survive in this hellhole without certain precautions, hate to use the last of my sparklers, but any fewer wouldn’t have worked, pushing through the three of them as the sparklers ignite, strobing heat and light, dammit, one of them didn’t go off and also my left eye opened too early so it’s going to be useless for a while, have to put all my weight into a groin strike on the leader, thanks to my useless left eye, my depth perception is off, so my fist deflects off his inner thigh before connecting with my target, he crumples, running now I’m…

  BLINK.

  …completely numb, and that’s possibly the worst part of this. He’s cleaning my body, just like he did last time, but this time, I don’t feel a thing. Shouldn’t I feel something? Don’t want it to hurt, but shouldn’t it? I want to feel something. It shouldn’t feel good, but pain is my alert system. With that system offline, I get to submit and watch as if it’s happening to somebody else. Does the memory of violation fade faster if you don’t feel it? His fingers comb through my hair, working some sort of soap into my scalp with confident, tender strokes. I feel the automatic me awaken, but she retreats when she realizes that even she is powerless. I renew my vow to myself that I will see him dead, right after I blind him. I’m going to take his…

  BLINK.

  …eye that isn’t currently blinded and look over my shoul
der, their hands to their faces except for the leader whose hands are between his legs, smiling at my success and the weight of the modie’s credit cube in my jacket pocket, my energized state doesn’t last long because there are three more, faster than me too, not fair, should’ve known the first three wouldn’t have been the only ones given the value of what I took, one wrong turn is all it takes to put me with my back against a wall and zero tricks left, offering up the credit cube, the three grin simultaneously, two of them begin to flicker like they’re not real, then they disappear, leaving…oh, it’s the guy from earlier—the one who I know now was following me and not just adjusting the buckles on his boots, I know what you did and they’ll find you he tells me, he has a proposal, I work for him, and he handles my current trouble, it’s too good to be true, don’t trust him, but you can only be aimless and alone for so long before you have to take a risk on somebody, besides I want to find out what he knows, I’ll play along for a while at least, reach my hand out to shake his, there’s a flash of perfect teeth as he…

  BLINK.

  …places my head under the shower. Soap, sweat, and other grimy things come free of my skin. He holds me there, one arm around my waist, my head lolling to one side. The sight of one soft breast, nipple erect from his attentions—or maybe the water is cold—against his shoulder is a memory I’m never going to forget. I have cuts and bruises everywhere, but wherever my body touches his, his blades and spikes are retracted. After everything, now he’s taking care of me?

  Kill him. I’m going to…

  BLINK.

  …kill him if I’m not careful, unable to align my gun with the target, trying to convince myself that the gun isn’t going to somehow shoot sideways, put a pulse right through his face, spraying molten lumps of his brain, skull, and hair onto the ground, his hand slides gently underneath mine, with his arm alongside mine and his other hand on my shoulder, I’m not sure he’s actually steadying anything, but it feels nice, and I am getting better—actually hit the target the last three times, guns were never my weapon of choice, if you’re going to hurt somebody you should have the courage to do it up close, focus on the front sight he tells me, his breath warm against my cheek, prodigal strands of my hair tickle my ear when he speaks, the target and the rear sights will be out of focus, I do as he says the best I’m able, but I have to be honest: everything’s out of focus with him standing so near, I utter a quiet curse, then shrug him off, he takes a step away, palms up, avoiding his face and the look I know is there, I squeeze the trigger until the gun is hot in my hands, the weapon is beeping, letting me know that I’ve exceed the power module’s drain rate, don’t wait to see whether any of my shots hit the target, turning, striding away, toss the gun to him, I’m all turned around inside, like there’s an uncoiled spring in there, don’t answer him when he calls after me because if I do, I’m probably gonna stop, spin on one heel, walk back to him, do something I’ll regret, or the scarier thought: something I won’t regret, either way, he’s behind me, right where I need him to be for now, everything’s happened so fast between us, have to take my own share of the blame for that, I’ll admit how unprepared I was to be…

  BLINK.

  …lying on my back again, the ceiling lights the same blue as my hair. The lines in his armor are cast in purple as he drops a pile of clothes on the floor beside me. Everything’s gray, the same dark gray as his armor. Kneeling down, he lifts one of my legs up to his chest. That’s when I see the needle-tipped injection capsule in his hand. He stabs it right into my pinky toe, and I get to watch as some green fluid with black flecks drains into me. Can’t image what that must feel like. Repeat that procedure with the other foot. He unwinds the material wrapped around my foot. There’s something black and crusted in the middle of the bandage, but he tosses it aside before I can determine if it’s dried blood or something else. He wraps my foot with fresh material, his movements so gentle that for a second there, I think he’s…

  BLINK.

  …going to kiss me, only he pulls up short, his arm reaching over my shoulder to grab some tool off the shelf behind me, which puts his torso in my face, he asks me what’s wrong, and I tell him to hold out his arm, which he does, then I tell him he needs to stay that far away from me at all times unless he has a reason to get closer, not really listening to his response, which is probably something sourced from pure testosterone, spend the rest of the day by myself because there was a scary moment there where the thought of his lips on mine wasn’t entirely distasteful, being a silly youngling, I mean he’s made no indication that…

  BLINK.

  … he’s aware of how awkward this is for me. Gets real awkward when he rolls me to one side so he can pull my panties into place. Same with my bra—he pushes me up to a sitting position, dropping the garment over my head, pushing each arm through. If I could set somebody on fire with my gaze, he’d explode. He gets me into the bra without groping me. Then it’s the skinsuit, which slides onto me smoothly enough. To zip the skinsuit closed, he uses the tabs along the arms, the chest, and up the back. The skinsuit is high-necked, covers my arms to my wrists, and my legs down to my ankles. The thick-soled boots he places on my feet look sturdy, and down the sides are silver buckles, which he snaps closed all at once. I may not be able to feel anything yet, but I can’t deny the satisfaction that comes from…

  BLINK.

  …pointing the barrel of one at his forehead, the barrel of the other into his cheek, my fingers resting on both triggers, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do here, everything’s all mixed up, inside and out, this time, that’s his fault, just look at me, see what he did to me, how he molded me into some misshapen visage of himself, he should be proud of the monster he created, this is me putting into action every lesson he taught, this is me deceiving him, this is me gaining his trust, this is me betraying him, he protests, when I caress his cheek with the one barrel, reminding him that he was the one that taught me how to kill, he…

  BLINK.

  …sits me up, grabs me under my arms, and drags me along the floor until he can prop me up against a wall, right next to a backpack. He makes a big show of pushing my hair out of my face and holding up the pulse dagger in front of my eyes before he puts it in the backpack. My head drifts to one side, so I get a quick glimpse of what’s inside—some form of blanket, or maybe another skinsuit, and some packaged items, food probably. The most interesting item there is a red cylinder that says SuperWater on it. He lifts me to my feet, holding me up against the wall with one hand, feeding my arms through the straps of the backpack until it’s secure on my shoulders. And just like that I’m whole again, bathed and clean, dressed, provisioned, and even armed. He stares at me for a while. He’s reattached the broken part of his mask. The crack is still visible though, cutting a wandering path through another freshly painted grin. The red lines in his armor pulse in time with my breathing. He rotates, taking me with him as he bends down, one hand at the hollows of my knees, lifting me off the floor, into his arms, cradled and supported as if I might shatter if he squeezed me too hard. He carries me toward the broken window. The wind whips through my hair. Whatever he did to paralyze most of my body must be wearing off, because I can feel the wind on my cheek. He steps right to the edge, my mind screams at me to hold tighter to him even though I can’t do any such thing. A familiar whine fills the air. Oh no, not again. He adjusts his grip, crushing me right against him, and when he does…

  BLINK.

  …our shoulders brush against each other as we huddle around the monitor, the room’s heating unit failed so I moved closer than what’s strictly necessary for us to both see the glowing display, his fingers dance in the air, manipulating the diagram on the screen so I can memorize the layouts of each floor, listening mostly to the even cadence of his voice, he gets this way when he’s explaining his plans to me, he’s brilliant at this, his confidence and ingenuity have kept us both housed, fed, and breathing, something special about this scheme though, it could end this for
both of us, wouldn’t need to do this ever again, that’s one of the scariest thoughts, there’s no desire to be wandering and alone ever again, I let my shoulder brush against his, decide to put my arm around his back and lean my head against his shoulders, where I can soak up all his…

  BLINK.

  …heat and cold buffeting my body as the static flares. The air shimmers as an energy field materializes around us. The world collapses, bringing two muffled explosions. It’s just like before, everything stretching into infinity, the world scatter-blasted with color, even though I know my eyes are closed. When it’s all over, I’m on my hands and knees, dry-heaving onto ground that’s cracked and dry. Can’t see much, but I can feel the ground bursting into dust between my clawed fingers. He’s waiting for me a few meters away. I have control of my body back, so there’s nothing stopping me from getting the pulse dagger and making another attempt at taking out his eyes. Standing, I feel steadier than I have any right to given everything I’ve been through and that I haven’t eaten in, well, days I’m sure. I survey the landscape. He teleported us to the desert side of the island. In the distance, the city glows, not so much with lights powered by electricity, but the sheen of chemical fires and smoldering ruins. He stands between the city and me, his arms crossed, crown straight and regal on his head in a way I’ve never seen. It’s not right, and yet I can’t…

  BLINK.

  …take my eyes off the alley wall and what it says there, every word letting me know that each urgent kiss we shared here was a calculation, each touch of his lips, each flick of his tongue was a variable in an equation—the equation that is (2)Syl, deactivated my shields and unlocked my core, made me do everything he wanted, he’s not here, he said he’d be here, and he’s not, the wall says: sorry, keetcha, I had to do it in a red so bright you could believe that it’s generating its own light, had him here, under my power, could have killed him, thought I loved him, told him I did, this is how it was always going to end, somewhere inside my brain, inside my heart, I had to have known that…