This is the first chapter in one of the plethora of stories I'm working on >.< It's a little gory and actually, it was more so before I edited it for the site
Tell me what you think of it.
I stared calmly at the blood on the floor. I’d seen blood before. I was quite used to it, as people in my line of work we wont to be. In fact, I’d be slightly in awe if a week went by when I didn’t see a copious amount of blood.
The blood belonged to a renegade demon. They were everywhere these days. Preying on humans, luring them into a dark corner with honey coated words and then, when they got a human alone, they would drop their glamour and then toy with them, eat them slowly.
This particular demon had killed ten humans in the most grisly of mannerisms. I saw pictures of his victim’s corpses after he was done with them. All dark haired, dark eyed, like me. All had been short and had a young face. My face was almost too old but with the magic of human make-up, I passed. All of the victims had had some part of them cut off. A video that the sick demon had made had shown that he had burned them all over their bodies over a length of time before dismembering them. I was happy to kill him.
Most angels didn’t like the death. They said that the death of one demon didn’t make up for the death of ten humans and that we were wasting our time. They said that life was sacred. I agreed. Life was sacred, every angel thought so. But if I hadn’t have killed him, the thought of those girls going unavenged would have done a more effective haunting of my soul than their spirits could have.
“Good work, as usual, Magdalena,” Conan inspected the corpse to be sure that it was dead.
I knew it was dead. I had his blood in my hands from where I tore out his heart. The blood on my sword was from where I cheerfully loped off his head. The only sure way to kill a demon was to kill his heart and his head. Guns were effective, of course. Demons lived a while so most of them were born before gun powder. Their powers weren’t developed to withstand the bullets. I had just wanted to kill him with a more….personal touch.
“Thanks,” I nodded. “Do you have a towel?”
“No,” Conan shook his head. “But I should have one for you. You always leave a bloody mess whenever you kill. Never anything nice and clean like Rune”
I sighed. Rune was the “perfect” Avenger. Which is what my class of angel was. It was said that he always offered his target a chance to repent, a chance to say last words, chances for them to kill him. He always killed his mark, it was just that he was nice to them while he was taking out their heart. He was just as bad as them.
“Nope. Sorry I’m not as clean as Rune,” I took off my jacket and wiped my hands off with it. Luckily I didn’t care for the jacket at all. Never wear your favorite clothes while going out for a kill.
“Your bounty will come to you at,” Conan began.
“Precisely twelve o’clock P.M,” I finished quickly. “Yes, I know. I’ll even sit up and wait for it.”
“You’ll be fast asleep by the time it gets to you,” Conan laughed. “You always are.”
“Well, you can’t blame a girl for being tired,” I rolled my shoulders back. “So is he officially dead?”
“Yes,” Conan laughed. “They always are for you. You may not be as neat at it as Rune but you’re just as efficient.”
“Thanks,” I smiled at the compliment. Conan calling anyone efficient was a good thing. Meant that your kills were always dead and would stay dead 100% of the time.
“Go get some sleep,” Conan patted me on the head. “You need it. Three kills in two days is a feat to be proud of. And a feat that will drain you. You’ll make mistakes if you don’t get enough sleep.”
“Yeah, I know,” I yawned. “Don’t worry. I’ll get some sleep. I like it too much to not get it when I can.”
“I’ll question you about your methods tomorrow,” Conan tucked his perpetually by his side clipboard under his arm. I hmphed and he laughed. “You know it’s just routine. We keep tabs on all of our Avengers. The little ones need something to read.”
“So you give them stories about how we kill. Nice bedtime story,” I laughed. “Good night.”
“Night,” Conan waved me off.
I walked off the scene. The body and blood would be gone by the morning if I cared enough to check. I didn’t. There had been a time when I had checked but that had been five years ago when I was still new and thought that everyone was innocent and that when I killed them they would go up to heaven. I was old enough now to know that there was no such thing as heaven and that there was no such thing as an innocent. Not even I was innocent. Even if I did kill to avenge, I was still killing.
“Honey, I’m home!” I called out sourly to no one in particular.
I dropped my bloody jacket on the hardwood flooring and I cleaned my sword off.
It was my nightly ritual. Drop bloody clothing where I felt like it, clean it up in the morning before my brothers woke up, and clean weapons. After the sword was clean, I hid it in the closet with the cleaning supplies, a place where I knew my brothers would never venture.