The Time of Change

Blink and You're Dead

Another Angel has made its home directly in the center of our only way out of the room. Its stone body takes up the area between the edges of it and the doorframe. My heart skips about twelve beats, and Daniel follows my gaze. He turns and promptly gasps.

"Don't be afraid," I assure him stupidly as I stride in front of him to put as much space between him and the Angel as I can. I feel him slip his hand into mine, and I squeeze his fingers. My mind runs on overdrive, attempting to work out a way to get him safely out without calling for the Doctor. I want to see if I can get the Angel alone for just a minute because I have to know why it's here. Whether or not it can physically tell me is something that remains to be seen.

A terrifying thought pops into my head, but I know it's the only option.

    I blink once.

    The Angel now stands less than a foot away from us. Daniel must not have been looking at it. My heartrate triples in speed, and adrenaline courses through me. "Daniel, go downstairs and sit with the Doctor, okay?" I say in a fake-happy tone.

"No way am I leaving you here with that thing," he says firmly.

I smile even though I know he can't see it. "It isn't your job to protect me, sweetheart," I tell him. "And don't tell the Doctor about this Angel yet. If he asks where I am, say I've gone to the toilet."

    "Why? He can bring that thing he killed the other ones with!"

    "I have it here with me," I lie. "It's in my pocket. I will be alright, I promise. I just want to figure something out. Be down in a jiff. If I'm not back in five minutes, then send him up, okay?" I let go of his hand, feel behind me for his hip, and push him to the left, around me and the Weeping Angel. I keep my gaze on the statue but peripherally watch him at the same time as he scoots away from it, back against the wall. "Don't be afraid," I repeat. He casts one more look at me, then runs through the door. I sigh, relieved.

    "Now it's just you and me, isn't it?" I ask the Angel. It remains motionless, hands not covering its face as they were before but now extended toward me in their claw-like form. "Tell me. Why are you after that boy? What has he done to you? He's just a human."

    I'm not sure if I was expecting its flat mouth to become three-dimensional, capable of answering me, but that is not what happens. Even if it were able to speak, would it? I highly doubt it would ever reveal its secrets to me, not when I'm so defenseless. I've got nothing to barter with.

"Are you here for the Doctor? Is that it?" I demand. "You don't stand a chance against him."

Still it gives no indication it even heard me.

    Suddenly I recognize that I need to move farther away from it, but Daniel's bed is almost against the backs of my legs. I can't go backward. I start to slide sideways along the edge of the bed, reaching my arm out to the left to feel for the wall. When I don't, I angle myself so that I can see more of the left of the room out of the corner of my eye. There is a short hallway next to me, and from the tiled floor and the fact that it ends with a sink and mirror, I speculate that it leads to a bathroom. Still facing the Angel, I make it to the corner. My eyes are starting to burn, but I cannot blink. I will not blink.

    Right as I think this, I trip on a tennis shoe and fall, my eyes slamming shut instinctively because of the fear of impact. I immediately open them again, and the Angel—oh, no—is standing directly over me, its index finger pointed down at my face. I scoot over the threshold to the bathroom until my back hits something tall and hard. I feel it with my hand, and I think it's a combined bathtub and shower. How will I crawl into this without looking? I pull my arms up behind me until I find the rim of the smooth porcelain. Very slowly I begin to raise myself up onto the edge, watching the stationary Angel in the hall right outside the door, finger still pointed at the ground where I was. Now my bottom rests on the cold ledge. My hands grip the porcelain, and I carefully lower myself inside. My back presses uncomfortably against the wall, but at least now I'm farther from it. In the process of settling down completely into the floor of the tub, my left foot knocks a metal bottle of cologne to the tiled floor with a loud clang. The sound makes my heart stop, and my eyes close.