The Basil Children

Chapter Eight

Sore and bandaged fingers carefully pressed the keys of the piano, as Candace lost herself in some sort of song written by Tchaikovsky. She was basking in her familiar, long lasting hobby, until James entered her room with a mocking ballet.

"Why must you torture me, James?" Candace looked over her shoulder, only to see him flailing about the room like a blithering idiot.

"Cause," he halted, scooting onto the stool. "I like you. Accept it." James' charm got him places, that's for sure, and this was one of those times as he leaned in for a kiss.

Hell if Winston and Delilah can be together, why can't we? Candace questioned before ruining her friendship and starting something more.

For about a week, the angels trained. It was a blur of seven days of punching bags, targets, bruises and scrapes.

Another sunrise came, and again, Tess woke the Children later than usual, and according to Paris, still absurdly early. When all seven angels were dressed and in the kitchen for breakfast, Tess spoke up first.

"I'm sorry, but today, we've got to go to Central Park. Should be fun, if you ask me, but I don't know why the people upstairs are making us go. Therefore, please take some form of weapon, I don't want any of you dying on me."

---

The Basil Children marched in a line down the street towards Central Park on the cloudless day, all armed with some sort of blade or gun. The moment the seven angels crossed the threshold of the park however, the sky began to darken, the soft blue replaced with an unappealing shade of grey.

Tess whipped back to face the others. "I don't know exactly why, but we really need to stay here, apparently." Tess frowned at the boiling sky.

"Um okay..." Paris said, and her shoulder bag still swinging, walked past Tess into the park.

Delilah and Winston followed her, hands locked together tightly. James strutted past Tess after them, chatting with Art absentmindedly as he watched Candace over his shoulder.

"We're not... In danger here, are we?" She asked Tess anxiously.

"I guess we'll find out." Tess muttered.

The park was filled with people strolling along the sidewalks, with mortal children ducking between the plentiful trees to chase each other. Picnics were hastily being put away as the rain clouds churned above their heads.

The Basil Children came to a stop in the middle of the park and sat on the dewy grass, each in their own little space.Winston and Delilah sat across from James, Candace, and Art, joining in on the casual conversation. Paris sat on her own, biting her nails in boredom.

Tess was pacing the grass nervously, occasionally glancing at Paris when she wasn't looking. She sure was gorgeous.

Delilah untangled herself from Winston and walked over to Tess, her blue-green flannel flapping in the breeze.

"What is it?" She asked, concerned.

"I don't know. Something's happening," Tess replied, looking up at the menacing dark thunderclouds.

Just then, Delilah spotted four different groups of people, all dressed in black jackets, marching toward one spot in the middle of the sidewalk. She prodded Tess, who surveyed the scene.

"What the fu-" CRASH. The storm broke with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning. Gunfire erupted, and the angels frantically reached for their weapons as mortals were fired down by the gang in the black jackets.

Candace and James were trying their best to shoot down the attackers, disarming them by firing bullets in their hands. Winston, Tess, Delilah, and Paris resolved to facing their opponents with some old fashioned hand to hand combat. James was out of bullets, and two menacing, and very greasy looking humanoids cornered him. Candace raced over, kicking both of them down in a surprise ambush, James knocking them out.