When was the last time you made a mistake? As humans, we do things we regret, without knowing the consequences. Purely out of curiosity, thrill or the desire to feel better about ourselves. We never remember these mistakes, until they all come back to us. When you least expect it, like hailstones in pelting rain. But once it happens, it stays with you forever. I'll never forget the 2nd of October.
"It's freezing," cries Maya. She wraps her arms around her chest, letting out a deep breath into her white scarf, almost the same color as her fair-blonde hair that reaches her hips.
Flint rolls his eyes. Narrow and dark, against his pale skin. "Just stop complaining, will you?" His dyed hair stands out under the streetlamps. Black highlights, burnt to ashes against the blazing deep red.
I glance up at the full moon, glowing upon the dark streets. Almost laughing, as we walk through the night, ready to snuggle up in our little hideout. The park. Shaded by tall trees. Dangerous yet enticing, the perfect place.
"Lucy hasn't replied to the text. Have you seen her, Aria?" asks Adam, shoving his phone back into the pocket of his long, brown jacket. Dark-academia style. With his cropped brown hair and strong nose. A giant next to Flint, the two are day and night.
I shake my head. "Nope. She's probably waiting at the park."
"Or her parents took away her phone." Maya shudders at the thought of Lucy's strict parents. I suppose I am the opposite of Maya, in terms of appearance. Curly black hair and deep skin, with my plain jeans and sweater.
Adam shrugs. We keep walking. As usual, Maya delivers a long rant on the novel she finished. A speed reader, she devours books like chocolate. Flint points to an alley. Adam tries to stop him. Typical, he's too late. Flint moves like lightning. I make peace between them, as Adam and Flint begin to argue.
"What is it with you and alleys?" Maya stares around the isolated, narrow area, holding her nose to block out the reek of alcohol and old cigarette smoke.
Flint leans against the wall, opposite side of me. Cool and rough, grating into our spines. The wall isn't our friend. "Nothing. They're fascinating," he says.
Adam looks back at us. I make out his face under the streetlamps, drained of color. His eyes wide. Almost wider than his horn-rimmed glasses. The air, uneasy, as we stare at Adam's terrified expression.
I follow his eyes to the corner and see a body, pushed up behind the trash cans. Petite, with wavy brown hair like a princess. Her floral dress, torn into pieces. Delicate arms lay by her side. Dull and lifeless.
"I-is that — "
Maya nods. "Lucy."
We stand there, staring at Lucy's body, covered with dried blood. Reliving our memories. Nostalgia. A familiar pain.
Not for long, as I hear the sound of footsteps. Tall boots. Chunky. Black ones, most likely. A shadow hovers over my own. Shaking, I turn around. I stare at the figure. His long, black coat. Large hat, with neat black hair underneath. Something about him looks familiar. But I can't see a thing underneath that black face mask, concealing his nose and mouth.
"Follow me," he says, reaching inside his coat.
We follow him, afraid he has a gun, through the secluded streets. He leads us to the park. Tall, spindly trees hung above. He walks up the steps of a house. Abandoned and old.
"Who are you?" Flint asks. He crosses his arms, as the masked figure inserts a key into the door.
The door opens. The masked figure steps inside. We scramble into his living room. "I go by the name Azrael," he says. Azrael. The angel of death. I freeze. Standing still on the black carpet, I close my eyes. Wishing. Wishing, it were a dream.
Flint reaches forward to tackle him. I watch, too late to stop him. Azrael pins him to the wall. He gives Flint a hard punch in the face. Nearly hard enough to knock out his teeth. Azrael stares at us, standing in a line. I feel his obsidian black eyes land on me.
"You know, I took one. I won't hesitate to take the rest." He chuckles to himself. I hesitate. That familiar deep voice. I know it from somewhere. Azrael pulls out a knife. He holds it underneath Maya's chin. I look at Maya. Struggling to hold in the flood of tears, as Azrael smiles. Twisted. Unfriendly.
Adam steps forward. "What do you want?" His eyes are wide in fear. The calm and confident expression, long since faded.
"You don't remember me, do you?" Azrael sneers. "Adam. All calm and responsible, until your arrogance is brought to light."
I glance at Adam. Shaking, as his lip quivers. Azrael smirks, pointing the knife towards Flint, his head down, frightened to silence. "Flint. Full of anger, as always. You weren't afraid to be rude to my face." Azrael raises an eyebrow.
He walks up to Maya, placing the knife against her neck. "Maya, how could I forget? Such a smart girl, wasted with tears and envy."
I take a deep breath, prepared for Azrael to approach me. He takes a long glance. I lower my gaze, as his obsidian eyes dig deep towards my soul. Revealing cold, stubborn frost inside. Selfish, for I never cared.
"To answer your question, Adam, I want to have some fun tonight. Play a game, shall we? A game of choice." Azrael removes his hat. Black hair. Ruffled, yet straight. A dry taste fills my mouth. My heart pounds, as I remember the hair.
Ninth grade. Science class. The boy we tormented for years. Tripped down the stairs. Ripped his homework. Force him to hand over money. Those cold black eyes. Deep voice that didn't match his face. Tobias Corbin. Azrael.
"You have two options. Sacrifice one, the rest can escape or kill me, then kill yourselves." Tobias raises his eyebrow.
I let a tear trail down. My shame disappears, as I think back to my early years of high-school. We were bullies. I encouraged the others. I never thought I'd need to face the consequences of those actions. They seemed so far away. So foreign. Yet here I am. Drowning in guilt and regret, as I stare at the person I destroyed.
Taking a deep breath, I step forward, ignoring the shocked faces of the others. I walk close, right up to Tobias.
I take a deep breath. "Me. I'll die."
YOU ARE READING
The Angel of Death
Short StoryI never thought I'd need to face the consequences of those actions. They seemed so far away. So foreign. Yet here I am. Drowning in guilt and regret...