A Demon With Wings

Four

Hey.

Just in case you skipped the last part of Three, I'll summarize it.

With lots of swearing and gory description, Orson tortures a bunch of kids by his story, and runs out of the room, "not wanting to deal with angry parents".

Then again, please don't hold me responsible for nightmares or fear, but I'll be flattered if you do. Then again, thanks and enjoy!

T.C.

I spread my white wings, and fly right out of the window. I hear footsteps, and I see that about ten of the kids have run out of their room for an Orsin Hunt.

"Where is he?" asks Poody.

"I don't know!" replies Judy.

I sigh, and beat my wings as hard as I can. I don't stop until I've reached my room, and locked all the doors and all the windows.

I just lay back on my bed, and turn on my iPad. I start watching all kinds of videos, and when I've noticed the speed the battery is draining out of the device, I connect it to a charge cable and leave it so. I think that I've fell asleep for an hour or so when I've been awoken by knocking.

I leap to my feet. If it's an armed band of psychopaths, I can take them down. Grabbing my sickle with one hand and a flashlight with the other, I run to the door. "Who's there?" I demand as I pull open the door.

To my surprise, it's not a mini psychopath. But the person who stands there is a psychopath in her own way.

"Trixie," I greet miserably.

"Orsie," she replies, cocking her head. It's dark, but my flashlight illuminates her a little. I can tell that she's still in armour, a simple brass breastplate with linings for the arms and combat boots. Even the visor of her war helm is down low.

"I prefer Orson," I tell her. "Well, what do you want at this time of the day?"

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted.

"Then why were you knocking on my door, not one of your friends'?" I don't buy her explanation.

"I just felt that you were the right person to talk to."

"Oh," I roll my eyes. "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't offer you a drink or something."

"That's alright."

We're silent for another while. Then, she speaks up.

"Well, I just wanted to kind of get to know the rest of you guys. You're already friends, but we barely know each other."

Something's kind of odd about her attitude.

"Well, I don't know."

"Come on, Orsie!"

Wait, she actually sounds kind of like Evangeline!

"Trixie?" I ask, suddenly getting an idea.

"Yeah?" she asks back, idly.

"Are you schizophrenic?" I deadpan.

Trixie makes a noise like a mouse being stepped on. More and more like Evangeline.

I whip out my sickle and point it at her. Trixie squeals and backs away.

"Remove your helmet," I tell her.

Trixie tries to get away, but she backs into a wall. I manage to pin her to it, and put my sickle at her neck. "What are you doing? Let go of me right now, Orson Goldbloom, or I swear I'll scream so loud everybody else would hear!"

"Funny," I tell her. "I don't remember telling you my surname.

"What do you want?"

"Take off your helmet," I command, roughly slamming her back as she tries to escape from me.

"Why?" she asks, and spits in my face.

Trixie's a psychopath. She'd be all smiley and cheerful and odd. The one I'm restraining acts like a regular girl.

"Why not?" I smirk. "If you're not doing anything special, you won't have anything against me. Take off your helmet, or I'll remove it myself."

Trixie refuses, and after brief struggling, I manage to get the thing off.

Called it. "Trixie" is Evangeline.

"Evangeline," I try to hide my surprise. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Fuck you, Orson Goldbloom, and your brain-" Evangeline swears angrily.

I smile. "I'll take that as a compliment. Come inside and we'll chat."

Evangeline sighs, knowing that she has lost the argument. "Fine."

"Oh, and by the way, take off that awful armour. I can't take you seriously with that shit on."

Evangeline mutters something, but reluctantly removes the straps of the armour, and lets the pieces slide into a pile on the floor.

"Where did you get that?" I ask. "You could have passed for Trixie, if not for your terrible acting skills."

Evangeline smirks. "Nicked it."

"Ooh," I reply.

After a bit, Evangeline asks me, "Orson, do you hate acting in front of the kids?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You know, pretending to be in love with me in front of the kids."

"I don't pretend, I just put up with it," I huff, "so I pretty much don't care."

"Then, do you like me?" she asks hopefully.

I take a while to think about my answer. "Yeah, but just as a friend."

"Oh."

Another awkward silence.

"Truth or dare, Angel?" I ask, seating myself on my bed.

"Truth," she replies, joining me.

"Who did you have your first kiss with?" I ask with a smirk.

"Not yet," she smirks back. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Who did you have your first kiss with?"

I think back. "Jezebel," I reply with a heavy heart. It's not like I liked Jezebel, but every time somebody mentions her name, my heart drops like a stone. I'll get over it in time.

"You had your first kiss with a lesbian?" Angel asked, genuinely interested.

"It was a dare," I explained.

"I wonder who was more embarrassed."

"Probably her. At that time, I didn't know her secret yet, and she was probably the only one who felt uncomfortable about it. Truth or Dare, Honey Angel?"

"Truth, Sweetie Pie."

"Why did you answer 'Kevin' to a truth about your crush?" I ask.

"I couldn't answer you, and Kevin was the first boy I could think of, so I told you guys I liked him."

"You liar!" I yell.

"What are you gonna do about it?" asks Evangeline, not giving a shit about it.