Author's Abundance

Evil Angel

"Where the fuck is Lester?!"
"The child mo-Lester?"
"That joke wasn't funny the first three times, Aiden. Shut the fuck up!" Michael hushed. "Looks like we're doing this without him. Great. Are you ready?"
Aiden held up his hands and gave Michael two thumbs-up.
"Then get into position!" Michael's voice was rapid and edgy. Aiden held up his hands again In defence as they perched on the roof.
They sat amongst the gargoyles of the old Church, and each one was weather-beaten and decaying. A bad idea to rappel from one for fear of it coming loose and landing on you after you hit the ground, and after past experiences, they were hesitant to even try. The spire of the church craned above them, looking rather threatening under the flash of the lightening that arced through the stormy sky.
Aiden pulled his ball-cap low under his eyes and examined the crowbar. He rammed it into the wooden floor, prying up the spindly nails. He wrenched open the latch and pulled the door up, letting it fall again and exposing the interior of the bell-tower.
Michael smiled.
"Excellent." He grinned as he made his way down the ladder, with Aiden following closely behind him.

"... As we were once our fathers' children, these shall be ours. Amen." The pastor was wrapping up his monologue and the crowd collectively spoke, or droned, the word. "Amen."
"Aiden..." Michael whispered as they reached the platform where the bell-ringer would reside. "Do you have the bombs?" He asked, locking eyes with Aiden. Aiden nodded and from his duffel bag pulled two metallic disks, with two black wires each snaking around them.
"How very cartoony.." Michael murmured. Aiden shrugged and just handed them over, rolling his eyes under his cap. He planted both bombs on either side of the wooden stilts supporting the bell.

"Michael stop."

Michael whirled around, pistol aimed at the voice's head before Aiden had even looked toward the sound. The sound came from two lips, which were under the nose, that sat between the eyes of the face staring back down the barrell of the gun.
"Heath.." He growled.
"Michael." Heath responded, keeping his eyes trained on the cold steel laced through Michael's fingers, "You don't want to do this."
"Can I play the name game too?"
"Aiden. Shut. Up." Michael growled again, his grip tightening on the pistol. "Why exactly, do I not want to do this?"
"Because, you'll be killing innocent people."
"To hell with them! And to hell with you too! Have you forgotten what has happened to me, Heath?" Michael tore open his shirt, revealing a sickening scar. Seven inches in length. From his left pectoral down to the centre of his abs.
"God. Stole. My. Heart."
"Blowing a church up won't bring it back!"
"But it'll make pretty fireworks!" Aiden said, giggling darkly to himself. Heath gave a questioning glance to Aiden, who giggled a little more.
"I want it back, Heath." Michael sneered.
"Then take my hand and leave, you'll have your heart soon enough."
"No. You don't understand. None of you do. No one ever will. I don't want it back for me. I want it back on principle! I gave that heart to Theresa. She was my everything. Then he took her and my heart with it! I have nothing! I can't mourn her without a heart to ache with!"

Michael span away from Heath and ignited the bomb's timer.
"I came into this world covered in someone else's blood, I have no problem leaving it the same way." He whispered. Aiming the gun straight at Heath's head. He pulled the trigger.

The noise cracked through the air, along with the thud of a dead man hitting wooden floor.