We Are The Wicked Ones

Part one- chapter one

It was early on March tenth, 1994 when the mysterious girl was seen wandering Central Park in New York City. The morning dew was still on the ground, and three elderly men playing chess were seated at a picnic table. One of the elderly men looked up to see the girl walking slowly down the pavement, her strange attire sticking out among the New Yorkers. The man heaved himself up, his joints cracking with age, and used his walker to make his way to the girl. "Excuse me miss," he said, his weak voice husky. "You look a bit lost, young lady. Where ya off to?" The girl turned her head to him, her long braided blonde hair rustling like leaves in a breeze, though the air was still. "I'm am on my way to a town called Aspen." The man's eyebrows furrowed.
     "Miss, you're in the wrong state. Aspen's out west in Colorado."
     "I'm aware." And with that, the girl in the strange white dress continued along her way down the paved path, her face set and as emotionless as stone.

Two hours later the girl was on the street of Broadway, people beginning to appear on the streets. Getting many strange looks, the girl walked into a small storage unit at the bottom of a hotel. Kneeling down, she took off her white satchel, opening it and pouring over the contents inside. Holy water, Bible. Yes, that was all she needed. But she knew that if she was in need of anything else, it would appear in her bag. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she thought over her mission. Retrieve the woman from the Lonely. Kill the Curse. Simple enough. She knew the Curse was located in the place called Aspen. All she had to do was get there- and it wouldn't be easy. She knew the Curse would send the demons after her, but she would just put up her fight. Stepping onto the street, the Angel of God made her way.

It was March 12, 1994. Dierdre, the Angel of God, was just on the outskirts of New York City. She realized with a jolt that her feet were hitting from walking- that never happened we she could use her wings. She was informed to never use her wings on this mission for fear of exposing what she was. So, she had to get to Aspen on her own. Winding down the New York countryside, the city still in full view behind her, she stepped foot in a public park. Kids zoomed by on wheeled objects. She cut through the grass, knowing this was a shorter way to catching a ride on the interstate. To her left, she heard a rustling. She shifted her tawny eyes and there she saw them. A group of 5 demons, in the shape of wolves, prowling around her. She slowly and calmly slipped her bag off her shoulder and retrieved a small white ball and lurched in her hand. Immediately, a big black demon-wolf lunged at her. As fast as lightning, Dierdre squeezed the tiny ball and I her hand materialized her staff, the head a white carving of a lion. She swung her staff at the demon, burning its skin at contact with the Holy Staff. More demons ran towards her. She thrust the staff out, causing two demons to fling backwards. Another reached her, this time it's claws raking her forearm. She shrieked in pain- for in Heaven pain does not exist- and swung her staff mightily, and the demon's feet fell out from under it and all four legs instantly broke. The remaining two demons circled her, and lunged. Using her staff in one and her foot on the other, the two were sent flying into the street where one landed atop a car and lay limp. The other landed on... A person. She teenage boy grunted, and using his bag he hit it atop the head and before it had a chance to claw his eyes out, it was knocked unconscious. With out a second thought, Deirdre touched it on its eyelids and instantly she felt its undead heart stop beating. She looked up at the boy. Dang.... He had some moves. The boy was brushing himself off, his winter gloves sliding over his jacket. His knitted beanie was crooked on his longish caramel-brown hair. When he looked up at Deirdre, she was startled how big and beautiful his eyes were. They were bright green, like that of the ocean color right out behind the sandbar. He smiled a little crooked grin. "Whoa.... You handled those dogs pretty well." Deirdre looked at his emotionless. "Well, I couldn't let them kill me, could I?" He laughed, and his laugh reminded Deirdre of the clear laughs of angels in Heaven.
       "Thanks for getting rid of that last...dog," said Deirdre. The boy shook his head. "No prob." He stuck out his hand. 
      "Simon Augusta," he said. Deirdre looked at his hand and back up at him, doing nothing. He raised his eyebrows. Deirdre raised hers. "What?" Simon chuckled. "You're supposed to shake it." It was Deirdre's turn to raise her eyebrows. Simon sighed, but his lips were still parted in a wide smile.
      "Let me see your hand." Deirdre gave him her hand. He fitted with his, and gripped it softly. He began to shake her hand. "See?" He asked. "It's called a handshake." Deirdre looked at him weirdly, but grinned. "Is this how you say hello?" Simon grinned too. "Yeah."
      Deirdre recognized an accent. "You're... Australian." Simon laughed again. "Yup," he said, popping the 'p'.
      "So..." He said, whistling a bit at the end. "Whatcha up to? I mean, those hounds looked pretty serious." Deirdre heard a voice inside her head. Go on, child. Maybe what you need is a good friend to help you along your way. Deirdre sighed. "Yes, they were after me. But, you may not believe the rest of what I have to say. So, prepare yourself Simon." Simon smiled.
     "Ah, I'm sure whatever it is isn't too far fetched. Anyway, I may be able to help you. I... Don't really have anywhere to go right now." Deirdre didn't like the look of sudden sadness is his beautiful green eyes. She looked at him. "Tell me." He looked at her in surprise, then dropped his head.
      "Well, my mom kicked me out. I'm sixteen, and she thought I was too old to be "holding her back any longer" so I left and now I'm trying to find a job. My mom's a lousy alcoholic." He said the last word with such disqust that Deirdre was taken aback. Being an angel, she didn't feel any emotions other that happiness or coldness. This was all a bit new to her. She didn't say anything, she just kept walking, but all the while she made sure the beautiful, broken boy remained beside her the entire time. Maybe she wasn't the only one who needed a good friend.

Simon is my little cinnamon roll too good for this world :)
I love you, Simon! Even though you're a fictional character, you still deserve the world!