All His Angels Are Starving

The figure stumbled into the hallway, illuminated from behind by the large windows of the stairwell. Susan counted four... no, five, angels clinging to the man who’d burst through the door. It was Mr. Kim, one of the assistant principals. He was Harry Kim’s father.

Harry was lying just outside their English classroom, dead.

Mr. Kim, roaring and swinging a hammer at the angels, stumbled into the hall.

Susan squinted and saw that he was:

Human (Level 4)

Which meant he’d killed a bunch of these angels just to get here. His eyes widened when he saw them, but his dark suit and pants were torn in several places, and Susan could spot the blood and missing flesh. He tripped and landed with a resounding thud, grunting and crawling forward as all the angels pounced. The sound of fabric tearing filled the hall as they ripped through his clothes. His white shirt was stained in so many places with blood.

Susan swallowed hard, wanting to rush in and help. She glanced at Jenny who looked just about ready to jump into the fray. And before Susan could say anything, that was exactly what Jenny did.

She watched as Jenny flung her hatchet at the angel about to bite into Mr. Kim’s back. The hatchet spun through the air before its sharp edge sliced cleanly through the angel’s forehead and skull. The angel landed splat on Mr. Kim’s back, its brain matter spilling like runny eggs.

There was a flash of golden light, and then Jenny was standing over Mr. Kim, swinging her hatchet and screaming and cutting down the angels one after the other. Two more angels fell to the floor and didn’t move again, their chests and faces split open and gushing. There were still two left standing. One of them knocked into Jenny head-on, and she stumbled back, tripping over Mr. Kim’s arm.

Susan flicked her cattle prod almost without thinking. As though it was already second nature. A slight movement of her wrist, and a blue bolt of electricity burst from the tip and crackled toward the angels.

For an instant, lightning connected Susan to the two angels. It skewered them both through the chest, and they shook and sizzled and screamed before collapsing, burnt to a crisp.

You’ve defeated Tarnished Angel (Level 4)

Experience has been awarded

+10 Energy gained

 

You’ve defeated Tarnished Angel (Level 3)

Experience has been awarded

+10 Energy gained

 

Leveled up!

Susan Brown, Level 5 -> Level 6

+2 Stat Points

She hadn’t meant to put so much into the attack, and the drain on her stamina left her feeling breathless and weak, but she’d managed to save Jenny. She leaned against the wall, breathing hard, while Jenny helped Mr. Kim.

The cattle prod felt right in her hands. It made her feel the slightest bit safer, and the added power she had from leveling up was proving effective. This new lightning ability felt so intuitive, almost like she was zapping someone with a wand. It was perfect. Especially now that she couldn’t move as easily with her injured leg.

Just this morning, Susan’s biggest concern had been getting home to game with Jenny. Her parents had been gone for a week now, and wouldn’t be home for another few days, which meant Susan could be as loud as she wanted to on the mic. She didn’t have to worry about them listening and then shaming her for playing children’s games when she could've been studying. Or applying to some internship. Or some other bullshit overachiever thing they wanted her to do.

She’d gotten into a great university here in New York, received a generous scholarship, and had already applied for work-study programs. Hadn’t she done enough?

On top of that, her boyfriend, Kevin Ponce, had dumped her a few weeks before prom just because he found out some other girl liked him. Did he want an upgrade? Was she not good enough? Was any of it even real?

Everyone always leaves. That was what Susan lived by, so she decided Kevin’s bullshit wasn’t her problem. She just wanted a quiet life, and she just wanted to game with Jenny. Jenny might be the only exception to everybody always leaves.

Gaming with Jenny was the only time Susan felt like she had meaningful control of her life. Susan usually played an offensive support role, being able to call out where her team needed to be, when to push, and when to fall back. She loved that. Giving commands. Being firm. And Jenny was usually playing point, doing the most damage. She was the only person Susan trusted in every single match. Where Jenny was quiet and focused, Susan was more outgoing and confident, and that made them an unstoppable duo. So why the hell did Jenny leave her in that bathroom to fight that big ass angel herself?

Now Susan had a chunk of her leg missing. It throbbed with every beat of her heart, but she stifled the searing pretend because she didn’t want Jenny to see it. Jenny was already dumb enough; Susan didn’t want to risk Jenny making even more dumb decisions trying to make up for her shortcomings.

She’d copied Jenny’s armor and added the pink helmet. Something she thought might make Jenny smile a bit, but also because she hadn’t had enough energy for the blue metal helmet she’d initially pictured. It would've been sleek as hell. But she figured if this kind of helmet was enough to save someone’s life in a bike accident, then it would do just fine if an angel hit her or knocked her head against a wall again.

“Susan?” came Jenny’s hushed voice.

Susan inhaled deeply, applying her 2 new stat points to Stamina so she could recover quicker from the exhaustion.

Susan Brown

Human (Level 6)

Age: 6,870 days

 

Stats:

Power: 5

Durability: 8

Stamina: 6

Agility: 4

Stat Points Available: 0

Energy Available: 35

Renewed strength flowed into her muscles. Trying to ignore the searing pain in her leg, and trying not to limp, she walked over to where Mr. Kim was lying face down on the floor. She wished she had something stronger than a minor healing salve; it felt like her wound would burst open with each step, and every one of those steps felt wrong now that a chunk of muscle was missing.

“He’s not responding,” said Jenny in a hushed voice. She nudged his arm gently.

He was lying still with his head to one side. His hammer was on the floor beside him. Blood oozed from the scratches on his neck and back. There were several injuries that reminded Susan of the horrifying mess that Imperfect Angel had made of her leg.

He must have fought and struggled all the way up here from the main offices just to find Harry.

“My son...” he said, his voice raspy and painful to listen to. More blood gushed from his neck. He coughed violently. Jenny squeezed his hand and looked up at Susan.

Grabbing the healing salve out of her pocket, Susan’s heart ached as tried to find the words to tell him that Harry was dead. Jenny wasn’t saying anything either. Her usual resting bitch face was gone; she looked like she was about to cry. Susan knew they were both picturing the same thing: Harry’s body.

Jenny was terrible with stuff like this, so Susan knelt, scooped up some of the salve, and pressed it to Mr. Kim’s neck. She could feel his pulse; his heart was racing like mad. His blood rushed down her fingers, and the salve turned into a slimy wet mess as she applied it. She didn’t think it would work, but if it could help even a little bit, how was she not supposed to try? “Mr. Kim...” she started to say, then she had to swallow a sob. “I’m sorry, but Harry was in our class when...”

At the sound of his son’s name, Mr. Kim let out a groan. He moved like he might try to get up, but he couldn’t lift himself off the floor. Jenny tried to help, but the man collapsed. He was weeping. Snot ran down his lips. “My beautiful boy... what will I tell his mother? What will I do?”

The salve glowed warmly, but it didn’t matter. She tried to scoop up more, but Mr. Kim let out one final shuddering breath and then went still. Susan pressed her fingers to his neck again. His pulse was gone. His hammer evaporated into golden sparks that drifted away and fizzled out of existence.

She twisted the lid of her healing salve back into place. Her shaking fingers were covered in Mr. Kim’s blood. She looked at Jenny who was gripping her hatchet so hard that it looked like her knuckles would burst out of her hands. Susan couldn’t help but imagine her in Mr. Kim’s situation, searching for Oliver desperately hoping he was still alive. What if she found his corpse?

Susan didn’t want to think about all her friends and classmates and teachers... but the notification triggered, and the thought burst into her head the same way electricity shot out of her prod.

Human population remaining: 294

That couldn’t be right. No, she thought. No! She wanted to scream. She wanted to go home. She wanted to hug her parents and hold them tight and never let go. She wanted a hot shower and a hot meal. She wanted to hear her parents to bother her about her grades and her papers and her exams. She just wanted to be home. Where her parents would take care of everything and she could shut her eyes and sleep.

Jenny was the first to move. She kicked one of the angels so hard that the fleshy thud and the crack of its neck made Susan wince. Then Jenny walked over to the large stairwell. The door was held open by Mr. Kim’s feet.

Susan tried to say something, but she couldn’t get a word out. She cleared her throat. “I thought we were going down that one?” She pointed over her shoulder at the smaller stairwell they’d tried to get to before that Imperfect Angel had shown up.

Jenny shook her head. “If Mr. Kim managed to get up here, then I think we should be fine going down. That way, we might hear more of what’s happening on the lower floors.” She paused and readjusted her grip on the hatchet. “And if we run into trouble, we can just come back here. I think that big green one killed the others on this floor, and the rest of them chased people down.”

Sniffling, Susan shut Mr. Kim’s eyes. It was something she’d only seen in movies before, and she hadn’t realized she’d been staring at his unseeing eyes till Jenny stopped talking. She took a deep breath, then wiped the blood off her hands, and followed Jenny through the doorway and into the school’s main stairwell. She thought it would be smarter to stick to their original plan of using the smaller, more secluded stairwell, but she trusted Jenny.

She just wanted to get out of this alive. With Jenny. With Oliver, if he was alright. And whomever else they could find. She’d given up hope of saving any specific friends. Their names and faces filled her head, and she pushed them away. How many of them were dead now like Harry? She’d seen Mrs. Rivera get eaten alive. She’d pissed herself. And she couldn’t get the horrible image of that green Imperfect Angel chewing through her leg out of her mind. How many other kids saw the same thing but weren’t lucky enough to survive?

A part of her was glad she was with Jenny. Not just because they’d saved each other’s lives, but because Jenny was her closest friend. They’d stay up till sunrise sometimes just chatting about movies and books and songs and games, and what they wanted to do, the places they wanted to go. It was Jenny she texted at 4 am when a nightmare woke her up. It was Jenny who always responded nearly right away.

And now that they were inside a nightmare, Jenny was pushing forward. Like the edge of that hatchet, Jenny seemed fiercer and more decisive. In games, Jenny was never one to make callouts. To hang back and figure out the best way to push. She seemed to instinctively know when to attack and when not to.

It was like she played alone, even while they were together or with other people. Jenny seemed to play around whomever she was with. She had her personal style and made it work no matter who they were with. And Susan loved that. It let Susan’s support shine, and she just trusted Jenny to always be there. She felt like Jenny's style brought out the best in her.

That was what seemed to be happening now. It’s just like gaming, Susan whispered to herself. Just like a video game. We’re duo-ing. The mission is to save Oliver. It was stupid. It felt stupid. But it helped. This was the only way she could make sense of any of this.

Jenny led the way down the wide stairs, clutching the handrail on the right beside the wall. Susan followed slowly, wincing with every step, but biting her lip to keep quiet.

After killing those two angels, she had enough energy to make armor for her legs now. Or maybe bandages or something for her leg. But she didn’t want to use any energy yet. Her healing salve was almost out, and a part of her regretted trying to help Mr. Kim, but she knew she would've regretted it more if she hadn’t tried. She’d just hold on to her remaining energy until she could get more.

And she had to be careful with her cattle prod now. The lightning seemed to draw from her stamina, not some battery or anything. She was the battery. She was sweating, exhausted, and feeling gross already, so she had to be careful with when and how she used it next.

Then she remembered something. Something she’d always remind Jenny of in between matches. Hydrate.

Could she use the system to make water? Like with the healing salve, she pictured a bottle of water, and the thought came to her.

Water will cost 1 Energy. Sufficient Energy.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, she let the golden light fill her hand, and it drew Jenny’s attention as it lit up the stairwell slightly.

Susan offered the bottle to Jenny first, but she shook her head and pushed it gently back. So, Susan unscrewed the cap, realizing how unfathomably thirsty she was, and drank half of it in several greedy gulps.

Water ran down her chin. She was breathing hard, loving how cool and refreshing it felt. The burning in her leg eased just a bit. And her throat didn’t feel as ragged. She sighed, wishing this tiny moment of relief would last, but it was already fading away.

At least water wouldn’t cost them much. Staying hydrated was going to be vital with all this actual fighting and surviving they had to do.

Jenny made her own bottle. They both stood in the shadow of the stairwell, a few steps away from the large window that showed nothing but the pale mist of the void outside. The quiet was thick and stifling, broken ever so often by the echoes of distant screaming.