The Angels from Hell

Ala

Ala fell through the doorway which closed instantly behind her. Cautiously she looked around at the landscape surrounding her. Everything was white, stretching out in all directions. After a lifetime of darkness, of shadows, of crammed buildings and rough stone, this place may have well been a dream. Her hands moved to her chest and felt the area where Bezilda had thrust something burning hot. There didn't appear to be a mark. This movement of self-examination made Ala aware that she was lying down. Tentatively, she tried to stand up.

So, her legs did appear to be working. She stood, searching around but there was no sign of the door nor Bezilda. Taking a small step forward, Ala nudged against the bag that Bezilda had thrown at her.

There was a faint groan behind her, and Ala noticed Lilea, struggling to her feet and rubbing a spot on her back. To Ala's astonishment, she saw that Lilea did not appear anywhere near as frightened as Ala felt. It looked like some kind of heaviness in her face had, ever so slightly, lifted.

Watching Lilea with interest, Ala reached behind her and touched her own upper back that was feeling oddly heavy. She let out a shriek and without thinking, tore off her jacket and ran her fingers up the back of her shirt. Under her fingertips she felt a strange lump like a raised scar protruding from a point just under her neck and extending to her waist. At her touch, the area burned. A wave of heat washed over her. Her stomach told her to throw up but the last thing she had consumed was a cup of coffee hours ago. She wretched, straining to keep herself conscious over a sensation far worse than pain. Dimly aware of Lilea approaching her, Ala squeezed her eyes shut and the lurching in her stomach grew. It was like someone was tugging at her insides, unravelling each coil until there was nothing left inside her at all, and she was weightless. Ala opened her mouth to swear or to scream she didn't quite know.

"Stop it!" Lilea's words cut through her haze and just as suddenly as it had appeared, the feeling faded. Ala's eyes fluttered open, and she was immediately aware that Lilea was staring intently at her and that the back of her shirt had torn. The next thing she realised was that she was five metres above the ground and from the point on her back a pair of bright, white wings had stretched out on either side of her, flapping gently causing a faint breeze to ripple around her. She hastened to hold the fragments of her shirt back together. As her breath slowed, she settled downwards, her wings flapping gently.

When her feet touched the ground, her wings folded seemingly automatically returning to raised marks on her skin, and she fell down to her knees. The pain was gone but her entire body was covered in sweat, and she was shaking uncontrollably. She took deep breathes, noticing that Lilea, standing above her, did not appear effected at all. Poking out of her dress that Ala saw was backless beneath the jacket was a pair of bright, wings that even in this white abyss glowed. Ala's eyes stung and beyond her feelings of nausea and dizziness, humiliation bubbled inside her. She rose unsteadily to her feet as Lilea touched her own wings gently as if worried they would disappear.

"What did she do?," Ala, felt her back with shaking fingertips, "What is happening? Did she...are we angels?"

Lilea's scowl looked out of place on her poised facial features. She spoke with such resentment it hurt to hear.

"Angels are more than wings. We're not even half of what angels are." They both stood, facing each other.

"Well, that's a relief," Ala managed, trying to smile.

"We need to change." Lilea grabbed up the backpacks and threw one to Ala. "And fix your hair." Ala was tempted to note that she hadn't slept for more than a day, but she didn't.

"So more formal than semi-formal attire." Ala kept her voice light; the sickening feeling in her stomach had lessened and she tried to block out the odd heaviness on her back. The bag revealed a floor length dress down to her ankles and sleeves to her wrist as white as everything else in this place. She was surprised not to see a golden halo or maybe a harp.