God's Gone AWOL

[2] Excessive Amounts of Cat Food

Two angels stood on the front porch, politely waiting for their brother to answer the door. However, even after they knocked twice, there was still no answer. Angels were incapable of sleeping, so it didn't matter that it was the middle of the night. As long as Atticus was home, there should have been an answer.

Except there wasn't. And to make matters even more suspicious, there was a strong smell of cinnamon hanging in the air. After a brief exchange of glances, the two angels decided that something must be wrong. With a blast of light, they forcefully opened the front door and entered the darkened house.

Upstairs, there was nothing except for a large stray cat snoozing on the unused bed. But downstairs was a chaotically different story.

In the kitchen, there was no normal food whatsoever. This was acceptable as Atticus also didn't need to eat. The strange thing was that the cupboards were filled to the brim with bags and bags of cat-kibble. And the fridge was packed with about a hundred cans of tuna. Neither of the investigating angels quite knew what to make of this, so they just moved on to search the living room.

The first thing the angels noticed was the mess. Half-drunk mugs filled with what was formerly hot-cocoa littered the coffee table. Patches of blood were splattered on the floor, staining the carpet an alarming shade of red. And there were objects everywhere. Instruments, photos, trinkets, random human objects of unknown significance. Both angels were quite bewildered.

And then they noticed that, minus the random human standing stiff in the corner, there was not a living creature in sight. Angel or otherwise.

A few blocks away, beneath the flickering, yellow street lamps, Atticus, Bentley and Hazel were running as fast as the human could manage. Fleeing the scene of several crimes —the house.

"Where did you come from?" Bentley asked Atticus.

He had gotten home just in time to witness the angels arrive on his porch. Just as they were blowing open the front door, he was pulling Hazel and Bentley out the back door. It was only by some miracle that they hadn't been caught. And now they were hurrying down the street, desperately trying to figure out what the three of them were supposed to do next.

Finally, they found a narrow alleyway to hide in. By some strange coincidence, it just so happened to be the same alley in which Bentley was reunited with her brother the previous afternoon. Although Atticus didn't know this.

As soon as they stopped running, Hazel bent over, wheezing. Once she was able to catch her breath again, she lifted her head.

"Wait, I'm confused. Why'd we run away? Who were those people at the door?"

"Those were some of my fellow angels," Atticus said.

"Those were—!" Hazel started.

But she was interrupted. And for once, she was too overwhelmed to even notice.

"I need to take you somewhere safe," Atticus told Bentley.

"Then let me go," she replied, "I'll be fine on my own,"

"I am not leaving you to your own devices at a time like this,"

"You expect me to believe you're actually gonna betray your own people for me?"

"I don't expect you to believe anything. However, all my words are still true,"

Even if she could never believe them, every single one of Atticus' words would always be true.

"Who cares if he's telling the truth or not! Let's just get out of here before those people— I mean, angels find us!" Hazel tried to break their intense eye-contact.