Ebony Wings

33

~Ali~

I land crouched over the lifeless body, my knife comfortably impaled between two brittle ribs. The thump of his flesh to the floor sirens the other Fallen and they rush inside with weapons raised, cackling and screeching. Their ashen skin blisters and burns, sloughing off in grey and pink sheets as they flood through the guarded entrance with nothing on their mind except my capture.

The effects of the protective sheath encapsulating the church wane as the Fallen enter, each creature slowly sustaining burns of a lesser degree. The small group surround me, pinning me onto what is left of the platform. I desperately pray for another way out, someway that doesn't involve my lonesome self engaging in combat with thirty-odd armed Fallen angels. 

The last member of the group enters the church, taking a single step through the door with no more than an irritated red tint to the front of his arms and legs. He takes a leisurely moment to watch the rash fade back to its original sallow hue, grinning darkly at its disappearance. He walks on, his presence alone is enough to part the mob of hungry Fallen, confirming what I initially suspected - this is Kael, the Fallen who ordered around those other weaker souls moments earlier.

I drop to the floor and grip the curved handle protruding from the body, ready to plunge into another victim. But Kael's sinister jeering makes me freeze my attempts. 

"No need to prolong this any longer. Stand and face your death with some dignity." Kael stalks forwards, his black, buckled boots dragging across the wood. He looks down at me for a long, mocking moment, the tangy sting of his scent scalding my senses before the cap of his boot roughly kicks my hand away from the hilt of the knife. 

"Stand," Kael commands, smugly crossing his arms over his bony ribcage. My body, ridden with knots of malice, is unmoving at his demand. When it is apparent I will not bend to his control, the other Fallen shift uncomfortably and Kael growls at my defiance. A gnarled hand reaches under my chin and jerks me upward, lifting my body clear from the floor. His hand tightens around my face, squeezing until I wonder if my bones will finally give out under the pressure. I grimace, clamping my eyes shut against the constriction, surprised at the strength hidden in his gaunt stature.

He releases me roughly and I drop to the floor, rubbing my throbbing chin and panting heavily. When Kael has me standing before him, my body tucked into the shadows of his height, he smiles with a maw of stoney grey teeth.

"That's better." He leers, lazily looking my body up and down - assessing. My skin itches at the touch of his eyes and I turn my head away, hoping it would stop. "And mildly pretty, isn't she boys?" He howls, turning to face his small group of followers and they titter in return. "For a mortal, anyway," he sneers after considering me for a moment longer. 

With his back still turned I seise the opportunity, diving for the dagger and wrenching it from the Fallen's chest with a sickening squelch. I am on my feet again with the blade raised by my ear, hilt pointing forwards. Marbles of blood splatter against the back of my legs as the sanguine fluid drips from the dagger's tip. My other hand lifts, training my aim to the back of Kael's head. Satisfied, I pull my arm back and thrust the blade away from me, blood fanning in a smooth arc as my dagger cleaves the air. 

I can't help but smile as the dagger follows its exacted path to my second target. Realisation dawns on the Fallen around us and their expressions morph into various accounts of shock and rage. Kael recognises the quick shift in demeanour and spins towards me just at the wrong moment. Instead of the dagger lodging itself into his spongey brain, the blade impales the lean muscle of his upper arm. He cries out in pain, clutching at the bloody, tender flesh around the wound. Realising what I did, his features harden as he jerks the blade out and throws it to the side.