Angels and Demons - The First Arc

Jane knelt beside the mattress, and raised a cup to the patient’s lips. The pale, emancipated woman swallowed the best she could, spilling the whitish mixture over her shirt as she moaned.

Ange averted their eyes, only to be met with rows upon rows of similar patients. Only in this tent there were about fifty, and it was the smaller of the two.

“Demon-fever,” Jane sighed to herself. She was a tall, stocky young woman with curly hair tied into a tight bun. Ange had never seen her without her white protective coat. “Cases like this seldom make it through the day. The best we can do is spare them from their agony.”

“What about your audience with the Governor?” Ange asked. “Did he agree to reopen the official hospital facilities?”

If in this improvised care center did the improbable, with the more developed equipment her proposal would have given her access to, she might just have done the impossible.

“No, unfortunately. Used all the same excuses as always. I was sincerely hoping this would be the last time I had to speak to that despicable man.”

While Briz preferred to wait outside, Claud stood respectfully a few feet back. Now, a grumble from him drowned the light clatter of rain on the canvas overhead.

“Hypocrite. If he really did think a hospital - the wealth and wellbeing of his people, mind you- was such a waste of resources, he wouldn’t spend half his funds on the surveillance guard. Not to mention the entertainment of his own cohost of supposed counselors and sycophants.”

“But he is right in saying that the density of bodies, especially those afflicted with angel- and demon-fever is likely to attract unwanted attention.” Jane, with her back to them, moved on to the next mattress, where a sleeping youth convulsed soundlessly. “Just the other day, I heard… I heard… something. I thought my heart would jump out of my chest.”

“That’s what the buildings are meant to protect us against!”

Jane continued on her round of the tent, trailed by Claud. They discussed too quietly for Ange to make out the words, though the argument seemed to be heated. Ange couldn’t will himself to move away from the dying woman.

They felt something in her - no, inside her. Something familiar. It crawled through her veins, burning with what wasn’t exactly heat. It was worse, but it was something they could command.

It made them shiver.

They could run away. Join Briz outside as she sharpened her weapon, or practiced some new move. They could ignore the calling inside them, forget what they were and what they could do.

They could keep pretending that wasn’t a lie.

Trembling, Ange turned to face the woman. There was no need for theatrics: all they had to do was to think it, and the woman’s traits relaxed, falling into a sleep Ange could somehow tell would be seamless.

Perhaps there was an unnatural glow to their eyes, but they made sure to be facing away. Jane didn’t need to know what they could do yet.

When Claud and them exited the tent, the warm light of the sunset was already fading from the thick walls of the windowless blocks of flats.

“Same as always?” Briz asked, startling Claud when she appeared from behind. He nodded in confirmation.

“Jane looked tired today,” he remarked.

“More than usual?”

“She was expecting more from us.” This time, it was Ange’s turn to admit their shortcomings. “You are right, Claud, we can’t keep going like… we aren’t criminals, or at least we shouldn’t be just that. We have made promises to these people, now we must follow up on our responsibilities.”

“If it was up to me,” Briz said.“I would take the matter to the Governor himself.”

The way she gestured with her golden knife left no room for doubts. Ange laughed, and even Claud stifled a giggle.

They had reached the edge of the unpaved field. A cloud of dust rose up after every footstep. There was a crumbling wall around the square lot, whose rusty steel gate Claud forced open.

It was then that they heard the explosion. No sooner had shards of broken glass slashed Ange’s face and clothes than a fiery shield materialized around them. Still, the force of the blast had Ange on their knees, ears ringing.

When their vision cleared, they saw it. Saw them. First, the angel: all fiery wings - too many of them-, blinking eyes, and unhinged jaws. Then, darker, snake-like, monstrous, the demon. It was bleeding. The dark, oozing substance dripped over the crushed tents, and its screams of pain pierced Ange in a way those of the more than a hundred humans ever could.

“We have to do something…” Briz said under her breath. She coughed, clutching her side with a strained expression.

Less than fifty meters ahead, the angel roared. Its mouths remained shut: the screen was more the impression of a sound - of grinding steel and the snapping of strings - than the sound itself. It was an impossible thing, one their senses wouldn’t dare to comprehend. Except…

“It’s too late,” Claud gripped Briz’s arm as she struggled to free herself. “We have to run.”

Ange blinked. They could make out the angel. Its many arm-like members contracted, muscles rippling around its long skeletal torso. It pounced.

“Ange?” Briz asked, voice shrill.

Before, it almost looked like - not human, but… it had a body, arms, and a head on its shoulders. Many heads, some on its back. And wings. Four of them were coming out of its chest.

“Ange?”

No, there was no room for doubt: it was a monster. Its fangs dug into the demon’s long neck, glistening black. The fallen creature pushed itself up, for a second, before the weight of the angel brought it down with a wet crunch. Its eyes met Ange’s. Despite the flames between them, despite the distance, despite its choked last breaths. They were coated with tears.

“Are you listening?”

“We have to help…” Ange began and their magical shield sputtered around then. Only now did they realize they were crying themself.

“They’re dead, Ange.” Claud held them by their shoulders. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

Jane and her patients were dead. No, maybe some had saved themselves. Maybe some had run, before…

With a final grasping screech, the demon’s form began to flake. First, its tails vanished into a dark smog, then its snout. Before the last of it melted away, Claud managed to drag them out of the field. Even Briz helped.

“Let go of me!” Ange pulled themself away, but Claud still held their wrist. “I can’t let it just…”

“It would be suicide, Ange.” Claud led them into a nearby alley. Led them away. “Please, listen to us.”

“But it… I…” Revenge. Ange wanted revenge.

“Later,” Briz promised, holding their hand.