A Slayer With Wings

Epilogue Part 1

My eyes open, one then another, and quickly adjust to the light.

I'm in a room, all alone. It's pretty small, and reminds me of a holding cell, but a holding cell would definitely not have food, a comfortable chair and books.

I check out the food. There are four platters.

The first is packets of 'sadness'. Changeling food.

The second is packets of 'envy'. Also Changeling food.

The third is packets of 'lust'.

The fourth is packets of 'wrath'. Oh well, but seriously, how many Changelings are under Satan's rule?

I seat myself on the chair, and look at the books. They're all in weird foreign languages or ancient symbols, and I don't understand any of them.

This is freaking torture.

I get out my phone and try to text my friends, but there's no WiFi.

Shit.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door of my cell. It's a small, trembling girl of about twelve.

"What do you want, bitch?" I snap at her.

She cowers. "Someone wants to speak with you."

"Oh great. Who?" I snarl.

"Her name is Trixie."

Oh great.

"If Trixie can talk to me, can I please talk to Evangeline? Or Kevin?" I request.

The girl shakes her head. "Sorry, but only Trixie can see you. She'll be here in about five minutes. That's all mommy told me." She pulls a lever, and suddenly, thick iron bars drop from the ceiling, trapping me away from the half of the cell that has the door. "That's for safety." And with those words, she saunters out.

Okay, so first of all, what the hell is going on? Trixie can request seeing me, but not me? How is that fair?

"Wait!" I call.

"Yes?" Luckily, she hasn't gone far yet.

"Where are we?"

"I'm not qualified to tell you," and with that, she leaves for the last time.

Shit. The nerve of kids these days!

"Wait up!"

No reply this time.

I prepare myself, and within minutes, Trixie comes into the holding cell. For some reason, seeing her brings a smile to my lips. She's a reminder that I'm not the only one fighting the darkness in this hellish place.

She looks the same as she always does, but with no helmet. Her titian dreadlocks are shoulder-length, and her pale skin seems to glow into the dark. Her golden armour is covered with blood, and her silver eyes seem to dig a hole inside of me. She glares at me for a while.

The first question that tumbles out of my lips is, "How on earth did they let you talk to me without being escorted?"

Trixie shrugs. "I just asked politely. Look, Coldbloom, the Father doesn't like having me socialize with you, and I have limited time, so listen up. There are something that I have to tell you."

"It's Goldbloom," I tell her. "Besides, why are you acting so normal? You should totally do this every day!"

"I was playing the wild card, as the Father requested. Had I been nicer, I would have been forced into friendships, and I can't have anything on my brain other than the Father's wishes."

"Wait," a thought suddenly struck me. "You're not talking about the All-Father."

"No, I'm not. I played an insane, lost little psychopath for him. I just told everyone that I was possessed by a Changeling, and everybody bought my sob story. I pushed the limits by being a loner, so that nobody could find out the truth. You know how careless I get when I get drunk," Trixie pauses. "Are you following?"

"Who's that Father you're talking about?" I deadpan.

Trixie adverts my glance.

"Answer me. If you're ashamed to say his name, you're not worthy to be his servant," I snarl.

"No, for I shall speak his name with pride and glory. The Father I serve is Satan."