A Toy With Wings

Eighteen

"Jezebel?!" the uncontrolled cry comes out of my mouth.

"It's not nice to stare, and shut your mouth, Goldbloom," she snaps. "Volunteering in place of you is choice. You being an autistic fatty is fact."

Someone to my right bursts out laughing.

"If that's the case, why did you sacrifice yourself for me?" I ask.

"Shut your mouth, Goldbloom, you ungrateful whore. I'm not to blame for anything. If you can't argue, you can blame your mama. She's the one who spoiled you. If your mouth stinks, you can blame your nanny. If your rear stinks, you can blame the guy who designed your diaper. If I take back my decision, you can blame your mouth. Now shut the fuck up."

Whoa.

"Jezebel, no!"

Everybody whirls around to see Amber, who knocks Jezebel over and wrestles with her briefly before gaining the upper hand and shoving her lover against the ground. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Amber, get off of me!" Jezebel cries.

"No! I'll sacrifice myself! Just don't do it!" Amber shouts.

A fresh wave of horror appears on Jezebel's face. "What?! No!"

"I have to!" Amber yells. "Standing idly by while you die is incredibly selfish!"

"Well, leaving me behind when you pass into a better world is also selfish!" Jezebel argues. Then, the duo are quiet when they realize that no matter who sacrifices, they're still incredibly selfish.

Amber lunges forwards and sobs into her lover's chest. "I...I don't want you to die...I love you!"

I don't know whether the display in front of me is touching or just plain pathetic.

Jezebel smiles tenderly, and says, "We'll do it together, alright? Together until the very end."

"Always."

"Awwwwwwwwwwww!" cooes Evangeline.

Seriously?

I facepalm. Those lovers let love blind themselves so much, they loose track of everything else.

The war has come. It is the day that those "lovers" will meet their fate together. I watch from the window, and overlook the ongoing battle. Underworldians enter by the millions. Only two small figures stood, defending the doors. Even from high up, I could make out two figures.

Jezebel and Amber.

Amber I spotted immediately. Her jet black eyes, those that stared at me with such intense hate as she wished my death, were unmistakable.

Jezebel was by her side, her bold hairstyle tucked under a cap, yelling 'fuck you' at the Underworldians and pointing the middle finger as she used her spear left and right.

As the lovers purposely backed into the entrance hall, I tried to feel guilty, for it should have been my death, not the lovers'. They had a whole future ahead of them. They could have gotten married, or adopted children. And now, because of me, that hope was gone. Two for the price of one.

"Miss Orson?"

I sigh. "Yes, Judy?"

"I'm Goodie," he complains.

"Yes, Goodie?"

Goodie sits down next to me. "They're so brave. Did you know them?"

With a heavy heart, I realize what Jezebel means by my selfishness. "Um..." I rasp.

"Go on, Miss Orson."

"No, boy," I lie. "I didn't know either of them."

"Oh," is Goodie's reply.

I look out of the window one last time. The lovers are purposely retreating into the great hall. When all the monsters are in, a boy, hidden in plain sight, will shut the doors and lock them. Then, from the inside, the lovers will activate the quicksand.

"Don't look, Goodie," I tell him, while looking myself.

Jezebel and Amber were taking a final look around them, before they backed into the entrance hall, never to come out alive again. The Underworldians follow, and as soon as the last one departs, a boy runs out and locks the entrance door.

Ten minutes, twenty minutes pass. Neither Goodie nor I attempt to make conversation. We both know how serene this is. The whole headquarters seems lifeless until the Angel of Death, in his dark cloak and spread black wings, is called in to retrieve the souls of the fallen. He doesn't bother with the monsters, probably because they're evil, or they can reincarnate anyway, but I think I see him dragging two trails of glitter, one ashy brown, like Amber's hair, and the other gold and dazzling, just like Jezebel's smile...

Now that I think about it, this battle plan has minimized damage, but we haven't stopped Satan and his Underworldians forever. We have bought time, but we still need a better, more permanent plan.

It takes a whole week to take out all the sand. No monsters are in sight, though. I've heard that when Underworldians die, they dissolve into dust. Maybe that's the case.

I sigh. Jezebel and Amber both gave their lives, just to buy some time, and for what? They're both dead. Gone. Slipped away. Not coming back. And we haven't harmed a single monster.

Another week passes. Enough quicksand has been drained, we retrieve the bodies of the fallen.

Amber lies with her eyes wide open, and they were red and sore. She was probably crying at the time of her death. I don't know whether that was brave or pathetic. The cap I had seen on Jezebel's red head weeks before was wrapped and tied with a sloppy knot around her arm. It's drenched with blood, and her throat is slit. One of her hands grasps a sword. And a gold ring glints on her ring finger. Was this the very same girl who had tried to kill me? I honestly have no idea.

It takes me a few moments to register the fact that the girl who lies next to her, holding her hand, is the same girl who had humiliated days ago. Jezebel is missing one shoe. Her shocking red mane is gone, and instead, her pixie hair is...blonde?

I must admit, I'm mighty confused. Given Jezebel's fiery attitude and the dark shade of her skin, I would have expected a natural brunette.

We'll hold the funeral pretty soon. And only now do I regret not trying to make Jezebel's last days memorable for her.

I stand over to her body, and examine her injuries. She's holding her spear, and it pokes through her heart, soaking her white shirt in blood.

Oh Jezebel, I'm not going to deny my hate, but what in the name of God did you get yourself into?