Authors: C.D. Breadner
He knew only one way to end it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, making sure she was looking at him. Then he put the barrel of the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Claudia’s vision was coming back just as Iola turned the gun on Jasper. No part of her could worry that Jasper would end up dead; she hated him. But she didn’t think Iola could handle it … assuming Iola wasn’t already certifiably insane. Killing Jasper would be the final nail in the coffin of her poor friend’s psyche.
Claudia closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t get there in time. She didn’t want to have to testify that she’d seen this happen –
The shot rang out loud, and she opened her eyes just as Damien’s form fell back and hit the floor with a heavy thud. She was stunned for a moment, waiting to see if she was misinterpreting what had happened. Jasper was alive … Damien was shot?
Iola’s hands had flown to her temples as Damien had hit the floor. She slumped to her knees as though her head was about to shake her apart. She was sobbing.
Jasper was still on the floor, but he must have fainted from loss of blood. And from the kitchen she heard a calm, reassuring voice ask, “Is everyone okay?” It was Vinnie.
She got to her knees, the world tilting like a sick carnival ride, making her stomach
lurch. It hurt right down to the roots of her teeth, and she was sure she was going to be sick. She crawled to Iola, talking her friend in her arms and cradling her as Iola cried in big, heaving sobs. Vinnie came over the threshold from the kitchen. His eyes were cast down on Damien, and he seemed reassured that the large man wasn’t going to be getting up.
Jasper gave a groan, and Vinnie crossed to him, checked his injury, then went back to the kitchen. No one said another word until Claudia could hear Vinnie calling for an ambulance.
Then he returned with a dishtowel, which he pressed against Jasper’s head after taking his shaking hands away from the wound. Poor Jasper looked like the walking dead as he stared blankly at the far wall, no longer making a peep. As Vinnie’s gaze met Claudia’s, they had a moment of shared confusion.
Neither of them had any idea what had happened.
Iola’s first recollection was the gun going off, a spray of blood flying out the back of Damien’s head, and then him falling. Like a microphone picking up its own signal a screech exploded in her ears, forcing her to drop to her knees. The next thing she knew, Claudia was holding her and she was sobbing so hard her ribs hurt.
She felt anxious, like her adrenaline had been fired without her knowing it, and was now suddenly gone but she couldn’t remember it being activated in the first place. Something important was missing … she was forgetting something …
A calm man was now talking to her, shining light in her eyes. Somehow she’d ended up on the sofa, and he was kneeling in front of her. She had never seen him before and she felt disoriented, until she saw someone she
did
know … someone that immediately brought her back to herself.
Vinnie. He was standing behind the EMT, hands folded in front like he was trying to avoid getting involved in her examination. The second she saw him she was on her feet, basically knocking over the poor paramedic and running
into his arms.
Vinnie
.
As he hugged her back, everything clicked
into place. Not that she remembered anything, of course. But suddenly everything was just … going to be okay.
Raphael clapped him on the back, laughing at him the whole time. “I told you; you weren’t going to like the solution.”
Voro basically sighed, gazing down at his body, spread out on the floor and leaking blood everywhere out the back of its head. “They can’t see us?”
“Nope. We’re just ether right now.”
“But you just hit me.”
“Well, I can hit you and you can hit me.
We
have nothing to do with
them
right now.”
Voro watched the doctor hugging Iola, and he had to admit … it hurt. Well, emotionally anyway. He was beyond physical pain now. But that sight … well, that just sucked. He turned his attention back to Raphael.
“So … when will I be collected?”
Raphael suddenly looked back to his corpse, avoiding his gaze. “Well, umm …” he cleared his throat. “Actually, that’s why I’m here.”
Voro nearly laughed. “Come on. I know that’s not how it works. I get dragged back below by the hair. When do I go?”
Raphael’s angelic eyes were once again pointed his way. “I’m telling you,
I’m
the one collecting you.”
Voro waited for the punch line.
“Voro … I told you how to save Iola. She will be fine, this Jasper guy will be fine. You’ve saved them both … and they are both instruments for the good.”
Voro was getting an uneasy feeling suddenly, but Raphael continued without noticing.
“Your last act was self-sacrifice for two innocents. You … you really think you’re going back from whence you came?”
Hell no
. “You’ve got to be fucking joking - ”
“You never asked me what would happen to
you
. You just asked how to save Iola from becoming a Sin Eater, and I told you. Unfortunately that means you’ve been recruited.” Raphael slapped his back again. “Next step: we’re gonna size you up for some wings.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Hey, it ain’t bad being an archangel, let me tell you.”
They were quiet again. Voro took a breath and asked the obvious, “And Essum?”
Raphael shrugged, all chill. “You can’t fuck with the brain of an angel. It’s the quickest way to be sent back to wherever it is you came from.”
Voro frowned. “Who fucked with an angel? Could Essum see you?”
Raphael shook his head, his hair swaying. “Nah, not me.” Then he nodded his head towards Vinnie and Iola. Vinnie was holding Iola tightly, stroking her hair, calming her. There was just something about that guy that really gave Voro a terrible feeling –
“Fuck. Me.” Voro whispered.
“Yep. When we captured a Sin Eater, we studied how
they
became flesh and bone. Very interesting process, incidentally. Some of that hardware went into this
decipio,
but we weren’t really sure what we could use it for. Other than heading you guys off at the pass, so to speak. So we decided to take it one step further. Veneratio was born of mortals, will live as a mortal, but really … he’s one of us.”
“Does he know what he is?”
Raphael shook his head. “Not a clue. That’s the beauty of it. He was born just a regular human. He’s not, of course. He has a healing touch, perfect that he saw fit to pursue a career as a doctor.”
“He’s just placed in the womb of a regular woman?”
Raphael nodded this time. “But they were selected, too. Intellectuals that would teach him right and wrong, not just a base theology but
everything
.”
Voro shook his head. “I still don’t like him at all. Is it … is that Michael?”
Raphael laughed. “You’ll fit right in.”
“That figures. Did you see the cock he gave himself?”
Raphael made a sound of dissatisfaction. “Voro, you’re going to have to clean that shit up if you want to be an angel.” Then he all but dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“I told you,” Voro growled.
“No one
wants to be an angel.”
But Raphael was already off on another giggling fit, holding his stomach and doubling over. Voro wanted to punch him.
Charlie was sleeping in a basement cell of the police precinct when he was awoken by a horrifying yell, a man bellowing in such agony it bounced around the inside of his head, up until the moment he sat up in bed, then it was gone like a lingering nightmare.
Master
, was his initial instinct, and he had a horrible inkling that his tormentor and advisor had returned with one final mission for him. But after a moment he realized he could not sense the Master in the slightest. Not just like someone had left the room recently; more like, he couldn’t be sure the Master had ever really been with him in the slightest. An erased memory. Lingering déjà vu. The questioning of his own sanity was a sweet consolation, he hadn’t experienced that luxury in a while. Charlie smiled in the dark as his feelings of well-being intensified, and as he lay back down and pulled the coarse wool blanket back up to his chin he thought that maybe … just maybe he was going to be okay.
The Master was gone, and by the sounds of it, he’d been pulled back to Hell kicking and screaming the whole way.
Charlie slept better than he had in months.
Claudia blinked in the mirror, feeling the tug of stitches in her scalp where her head had hit the iron table. It had bled a lot, but it had all been in her hair and she hadn’t noticed until the paramedic had been examining her for a concussion. His hand had come away red and she’d agreed to go to the emergency room. It took four stitches to close that gash up, and it was bisecting her hairline on her right temple. Somewhat visible, but the scar would be mostly hidden.
She couldn’t make herself understand what had happened in that apartment. As far as she could tell, Damien had taken her, Jasper, Vinnie and Iola prisoner in Jasper’s apartment. And somehow Iola had talked him
into killing himself. Or something? The cop instincts she had were screaming at her that none of it added up, yet … what else had it been? There had been no reason, no list of demands, no cohesive agreement about a chain of events.
None of them remembered how they got there. That much she knew. And until she could ask everyone else what
their
recollections were … well, she was stuck with the most unlikely explanation as her only option.
The doctor had cleared her to leave, so after freshening up in the hospital washroom she stepped through the front doors of the emergency ward, out of the stench of chemicals and antiseptic
into the refreshingly unscented air of a clear, spring night. The warm wind picked up, tossing her hair, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
Jasper was going to be okay … but he was still going to do hard time. He was going to be charged with assaulting a police officer and attempted sexual assault. So that satisfied her almost as much as seeing that partially-shaved head of his with its grotesque line of stitches leading across the back in a crooked, nightmarish design.
She’d
done that, she reminded herself with a smirk. Not sure
why
she’d done it … but she had.
She turned as though hearing her name on the wind, only to find she was completely alone. Claudia felt an infinite sadness suddenly. Iola had Vinnie. And here she was … alone. Again.
She wouldn’t think about Damien; she just couldn’t. He was dead, and she didn’t dare let her mind linger on the ache in her chest that throbbed as she pointedly
didn’t
consider him.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and made for the cab sitting at the curb.
The nurse had called for her, and Claudia was surprised that it had only taken a few minutes for the driver to get there. The hospital was quite a way past the city limits.
She climbed in the back, reciting her address and suddenly realizing she didn’t have keys anyway. So she gave the address for the police station as a correction after a short apology.
“No problem,” the driver said, turning around and offering a polite smile.
Claudia smiled back. It was nice to see a friendly face right then, even if it was a guy. And a skinny guy at that. But she sort of liked his steel-grey eyes. And the shaved head was a bit of a turn on for her, too. After her last experience, she wasn’t into long flowing locks on a guy anymore. As a matter of fact, she was surprised to have that reaction from a
guy
at all.
“Thanks,” she said, suddenly shy, and she settled
into the seat as the car carried her away.
the end