30 Day Image Prompt Competition - August

Day 23 Prompt 1 - Angel Wings

There was evil in the air, tonight. She could taste it. That sickly, sweet, slight bitterness as it went down your throat taste. She stood in the doorway, her nimble fingers surreptitiously checking her blades to ensure they were still in place. She had a feeling she would need their reassuring steel bite tonight.

The rain drizzled down in a soft curtain, wrapping the weary travellers in its damp embrace as they made their way to the station. Heads down, coat collars raised against the chill, they trudged along oblivious to what was going on around them.

Not that there was much happening, she decided, but then, it was early even for evil to stalk through the land. Once dusk started to fall  they would start to emerge from the shadows where they hid. Then it would be time for her evening to commence.

Soon, the sun had begun its descent towards the horizon. Hidden by the rainclouds, the evening air had a grey tinge to it, starved of the rich golden and orange shades of the setting sun. She cared not for the vibrant colours of a sunset only for what the evening would bring. Life had killed her romantic streak when it had taken her family in such a cruel and violent matter. There was only herself left to watch over the people, waiting until she had the opportunity to gain the revenge her soul cried out for.

Oblivious to the falling rain, she stepped out on to the walkway and walked amongst the last of the commuters. She could sense their thoughts, their need to get home to loved ones, their troubles at work, who they fancied, who they hated. There were times when she hated the gift she had inherited upon their death. She had not wanted it, had not asked for it but the powers that be had insisted she had it.

Her walking had brought her to the small park in the centre of the commercial district. Here, the walkways were deserted, the workers having already left for the evening. Only the odd straggler hurried across the wet flagstones, an umbrella up to keep off the rain. The speed walkers would be ignored, she knew, it would be those who didn’t have to rush for the evening train who would be in danger. All she needed to do was watch and wait for evil to make its move.

It did not take long before he appeared. A skinny youth entered the park, his lank hair hung in sodden locks around his pale, drawn face. The denim jacket was open despite the chill, revealing a dirty white t-shirt and ragged blue jeans that had seen better days. He seemed to have no purpose as he walked across the park yet she could see the young woman walking along on the other side of the park, her attention focused on reading the text message she had received. Easy prey, she thought as she set off walking.

As the woman walked by, the youth grabbed her arm and pulled her close, his hand going to the neckline of the outfit she wore. The youth was a reaper, a soul stealer and needed access to flesh to remove the victim’s soul. It was a pleasurable experience for the youth but a nightmare for the victim. She was determined it would be a journey she would not make.

As the woman screamed and kicked out at her attacker, she leapt into the fray, her knife finding its home straightaway in the youth’s chest. The woman fell to the ground, sobbing her heart out as she gathered her coat around her. She checked on the woman for any injuries before urging her to head straight for the station and to not stop for anything on the way there.

As the woman hurried away, she turned her attention to the youth who was starting to regain his feet. The only way to kill a reaper was to remove the heart and incinerate it. She gripped her knife in her hand, her blood pounding loudly in her veins.

“Looks like it’s my lucky night,” he growled as he approached her, his fingers flexing at his sides. A spreading stain across his grubby t-shirt showed where her knife had found its mark but he gave no sign of the wound bothering or weakening him.

She circled around him, her knife held ready in her hand, waiting for him to make his move. Reapers were impatient fighters and would rush into a fight without any forethought. This one was no exception. With a roar of impatience he stormed towards her, arms outstretched, lips pulled back in a vicious snarl.

Balancing on her feet, she waited until the last moment before side-stepping his charge, her knife leaving a deep slash along his side that would bleed more of his precious blood. With enough blood loss he would soon be weak enough for her to slash his chest open, extract the heart and incinerate it.

Minutes passed before she saw her opening, saw him slip on the blood he had lost, exposing his chest to her knife. She rushed forwards, the knife slipping deep into his chest before sliding downwards. Realising the danger he was in, the reaper struggled against her hold, trying to back away from the gloved hand approaching his chest.

His eyes lifted to a point over her shoulder and his grimace changed to a triumphant grin. “Not tonight, bitch,” he whispered, his voice gloating as a hand grasped her shoulder, wrenching her away from him.

Startled, she stumbled backwards, her feet slipping on the spilt blood. Out of the corner of her eye she saw three other young reapers approaching, their eyes glowing with a unholy glee as they fell upon her. Damn, she was in trouble. Four on one were not good odds to have. She scrambled to her feet and backed off as they stalked towards her, looking for any weaknesses in her new opponents that she could exploit. Her hopes dipped as she saw no obvious ones. This was going to be tough.

They charged towards her, hands outstretched to grab at her. She was thankful she had thought to fasten up her leather jacket before challenging the first reaper thus delaying their attempts at trying to steal her soul.

She kept her knife tight in her hand, slashing at their bodies whenever she had the chance but it was hard going. She could feel herself weakening as they crowded around her, punching and kicking at her body. There seemed to be no lacking in their energy, as they pressed towards her, despite the heavy blood loss they had suffered. She, on the other hand, was fading fast. Her body was one major ache and she had numerous minor cuts dotted all over. Twice they had nearly ripped her jacket open and only by sheer luck had she managed to stop them from taking her soul.

She stumbled on a loose kerb, going down on the ground. The reapers crowded around her, sensing an imminent victory and a powerful soul to steal. She raised her knife to try and fend them off but they soon overpowered her and removed the knife from her grasp. She was done for and there was nothing she could do. Resigned to her fate, her struggles weakened as they ripped at her clothing. In her mind, she said her goodbyes to the few friends she had, felt regrets over the things she had not yet achieved in her short life whilst she awaited the searing agony that would herald her soul being ripped out of her body.

Instead of hands ripping at her body, she felt bodies being ripped off her. Muffled thuds, followed by anguished cries and then the smell of burning filled the void left by her attackers. Her breath coming in harsh gasps, she opened her eyes and saw the shape of a large man, dressed totally in black leathers, standing over the smouldering body of a reaper. Her battered mind tried to make sense of what had happened but it was too much and, with a sigh, she slipped down into the welcoming darkness of oblivion.


“Angel, Angel, come on, open those eyes of yours.”

The rough, gravelly tones teased at her nerves, tempting her to leave the protective darkness she had been resting in. She moaned and tried to move away from the callused hand lightly stroking her cheek.

“Come on, baby, back to the land of the living.”

Angel opened her eyes, squinting against the brightness, and looked straight into icy blue eyes that regarded her with a hint of amusement. “Gabe,” she breathed as she moved on the bed, grimacing as aching muscles, pulled ligaments and bruised bones made themselves felt.

“One and the same. Thought I’d lost you last night with those reapers around you.” Gabe sat up and waited whilst Angel raised herself up in the bed. The bruising on her face appeared vivid against the stark whiteness of the shirt he had dressed her in the night before.

“You almost did. How did you find me?”

“I was out patrolling and I saw a woman running from the park. I figured reapers were about so came to investigate and saw you being overwhelmed by four of them.” He handed her a glass of juice and some painkillers. “What were you doing there on your own? Did no one tell you the park is home to reaper gangs?”

“There was only one, originally. I thought I could handle him.” She swallowed the painkillers and leant back with a sigh. Oh, how she ached!

“You probably could have but his friends complicated matters.” Gabe stood up and give her a half smile as he walked to the door. “There’s a bathroom through there. I recommend the shower rather than a bath until you feel better. I’ll go and make you some breakfast.”

Angel watched as Gabe left the bedroom. Of all the people who could have come to her aid it had to be him, the rogue warrior who refused to follow orders. Who did what he wanted to do, regardless of the consequences. The one man she would want to have fighting in her corner when the going got tough.

Grimacing, she pushed the covers back and stood up, crossing the bedroom on stiff, shaky legs to enter the bathroom. A shower may not remove all of the aches and pains but it would go a long way to making her feel better.

When she returned to the bedroom, a large black t-shirt and a pair of shorts had been left on the end of the bed for her. Smiling at his thoughtfulness, she pulled the clothes on before sinking to the floor and crossing her legs.

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, calming herself down even though her ribs screamed out at the effort of deep breathing. Opening her mind, she searched for the light that guided her. A warmth flooded her body as she connected with the source.

“You fought well against the reapers.”

“I lost. I let them get the better of me.”

“You will learn from your mistakes. Your injuries, are they severe?”

“Bruising, a few pulled muscles. They hurt like hell, though. Sorry.”

“I imagine they do. Relax.”

Angel sat still and allowed the warmth to seep through her. She could feel the tight muscles relaxing as the tears were healed, the throb in her bones fading to a distant ache as the bruising subsided.

As Gabe walked past her room, he saw her seated on the carpeted floor, dressed in the spare clothing he had found for her. Her blond hair was flowing around her shoulders, her eyes closed as she looked upwards towards the light shining down on her. Her feathery wings arched out behind her, swaying gently, and he was reminded of what he could never have.