The Apocalypse of the Damned

Chapter Nine: Questions

The demon and angel were finally alone.

Ellette graciously volunteered to go into town and do some investigating, while Zion took care of his soulmate. Malak's arm was easy to heal; he didn't even need to sleep to do it since it wasn't a bad break. However, his wing was different. His bone was snapped perfectly in half, causing the angel to be in a lot of pain. He'd have to sleep to heal it because it'd take all his energy, most of which was depleted during the fight.

Though he was feeling completely exhausted, Malak had trouble falling asleep in the back of the car. The angel had to sleep on his stomach with his wings folded on his back due to the limited space. He couldn't even cuddle his demon; of course, he held his hand from the front. Zion even played some soft rock from the radio and song along, to help calm Malak's nerves.

A soft smile graced the demon's lips when he finally saw that his angel was asleep. It was unbearable hearing his angel's painful whimpers. Thankfully, he looked quite peaceful in his sleep. He hoped that his angel's wing would heal quickly.

***

The fae wasn't sure exactly what she was doing. She wished the demon gave her more direction to go on. Nonetheless, she would try to do her best. Ellette went into the café with some money from Zion. The café was small and homey; it didn't look like anything in her own kingdom. She quite liked it.

"Hey, Stranger," a cheerful blonde waitress exclaimed. "You new to town?"

Ellette smiled, "I am. I live a bit away from here."

"I knew it. I always recognize everyone in town," She claimed with a bright smile. "So, what brings you to town, Stranger?"

"Well, I actually came to get some of the crops here. I heard you guys had a ton of crops every year, but I noticed all the fields are dead."

The waitress shrugged while sitting down a menu for her to look at. "I know," she said. "It's the strangest thing. We haven't had a season this bad in a while, and it's the perfect conditions this year! Yet all the crops are dead!"

"That is incredibly strange. Does anyone know why?" She curiously inquired. All their crops dying certainly was a strange thing; though, Ellette knew the cause of it. She only hoped that the humans would be smart enough to figure out anything to lead her to the next horseman. Of course, she doubted they would. Humans always figured out a way to explain the unexplainable; the few who figured out the truth were called insane.

The bright waitress energetically shook her head. Everyone in her town had their own ideas, but most were crazy. Though they had to be. It didn't make any logical sense for crops to start growing and then randomly die. Especially with the season they had, where everything was perfect for their crops to grow.

"Nothing sane, Sweetheart, nothing sane," she answered. "Now, enough about crops. What would you like to order?" The fae proceeded to order, and then ask more people about their mysterious crop problem. Many people answered like she thought they would: crazy reaches that made no sense. Others just said they have no idea. However, one person's response caught her attention.

"I bet it's that new troublemaker, George Smith. All those damn crops started dying around the time he showed. God, I hate that boy. Always playing his stupid music," the old man grumbled. Sure, maybe he is just blaming the kid because he hated him. But it was also a strange coincidence that Ellette needed to check out. This being, George Smith, might be the guy she was looking for.

A loud, snarky laugh caused the old man to glare at whoever was behind her. She turned around and saw a tall, lanky, ginger. His eyes were filled with malicious enjoyment, though she didn't notice. "Talking about me again, Old Bat?" He asked.

***

The small angel was startled awake by his mate shaking him. Once again, he had a bad dream about his guardian. Before he came to Earth, he'd dream about her every time he needed to sleep- which was nearly every day since his guardian constantly hurt him. However, meeting his mate helped him a lot and he rarely needed sleep, and when he did, his mate kept his fears away.

The demon sighed softly, wiping away the angel's stray tears. His angel's wing healed a bit ago, thankfully, causing the angel's whimpers to stop. Though a bit after he healed, the angel started whimpering again this time from fear. Zion felt bad for waking his mate, but he couldn't bear to hear him in pain any longer.

Zion carefully grabbed his angel, after he put his wings away, and placed him on his lap in the front seat. Malak instinctively curled into his chest, which provided him the warmth and security he needed after having such a terrible dream. The angel wished his guardian would leave him alone. She was finally dead, yet still managed to haunt him. He just wanted to be happy for once. Happy and alone with his mate.

"I think we should talk about it," his demon softly stated.

Shaking his head, he turned around facing his demon, and cuddled closer. He wasn't ready to talk. Not yet. Though, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be. Everything that happened to him left a permeant scar in his mind. Of course, he'd heal someday, but the scare will always be there in the back of his mind.

"Angel," Zion affectionately whispered. "I know talking is hard, but I might be able to help if you talk to me. You won't have to talk to anyone else. Just me."

"Just you?" Zion nodded. "My cute demon?" The demon blushed lightly and playfully glared at him. He never thought he'd be called cute. Being a 6'3, muscular, dark-haired demon, he had been called sexy, hot, attractive. But never sexy. Not until he met his angel. His perfect, small, energetic angel, who apparently thought he was cute.

Malak gently laughed, quickly kissed his demon, and snuggled against him. "You are adorable," he muttered into the demon's neck. "My feelings are all over the place. I do not like it. Being so negative is not for me. I wish I could be happy and upbeat again." Though he spoke quietly, Zion was proud of him for opening up even if it's just a little. His angel was finally talking to him.

***

George Smith was the next horseman... probably.

After their short conversation with the old man, Ellette understood why the old man hated him. He was an annoying, snarky, butthole. While talking to the old man, George seemed to have one goal: insult and degrade the old man as much as he could. The younger man was the worst human she ever meant; of course, she hadn't met a lot.

There was just one problem with her theory. George Smith is a human. A simple human, who's clueless to the supernatural world around them. He couldn't be the horseman. Could he?