Nice to Know

Crying Angel

We heard the sniffling before we saw anything.

We turned our heads in unison to the open door that lead to the bedroom. The space beyond the door was pitch black, but the sound of a stuffy nose and puffy eyes was unmistakable.

My eyes flicked to Peter, wondering if he had a plan, but he was already looking at me with the same expression.

I took a deep breath and said a faint, "Hello?"

The crying stopped and was quickly replaced by the sound of something dragging across carpet.

I took a step to the side to get a better view into the room. It might have been my imagination, but I swore I could see a dark shape moving along the floor. But just as I'd begun to doubt myself, I saw a set of skinny fingers grab at the edge of the door.

I jumped back as an equally mangled hand reached up for the door handle, and using the leverage from both, began pulling itself into the light.

The face that I saw made me stumble back in surprise. Each feature was distorted past recognition.

The eyelids had been torn away, leaving the singular eye that remained in its socket unprotected. The mouth had been torn and healed over so many times that it lacked any recognizable silhouette.

Every crevice was hollowed out, or more Acuritly, carved out. And in every hollow was a shallow pool of tears. They streamed from its eyes, even the empty socket.

I didn't know what to say. It was hard to tell if it was some kind of monster or if it needed help.

I took a step towards it as it continued to pull itself into the main room.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly.

It paused, peering up at me, and just whimpered.
When it was only about half way into the light it seemed to give up, rib bones jutting from it's back as it gasped for breath.

I followed the the things deep lines to a set of what looked like wings hanging limply from its back.

At one point they could have been stunning, each feather white and fluffy like a cloud. But the many of them had been plucked out, leaving behind just raw pock marked nubs of skin. The only remaining feathers clung to the base of the wings, but had lost their angelic nature to a thick matting of blood.

As Peter stared wide-eyed at me, I moved closer to it and knelt down. It looked up at me, tears falling onto the carpet. I felt my heart tighten in my chest.

"What happened to you?"

It didn't really say anything at first. It's eye just swiveled around in it's skull, scanning me from head to toe.

That Is until it landed on my left hand, where the neat cluster of rubies gleamed.

And then, as if in response, it let out a very human, very female, scream.