Evil Angel

Sometimes even the angel is evil.

When I was young I always questioned the concepts of good and evil. To this day, I see shades of gray in everything. How do we know the villain of the story did not have good intentions? Were they victimized by others? I do not trust the heroes, for every hero has their faults. I do not trust anyone for that matter. How do I know that even this angel is not evil?

Yet, there she sits. She has no billowy wings, aura, or halo... But I know she is an angel. How do I know? Because unlike the other people I've seen, she does not bare the marks of a monster. Where she came from, I do not know. But she's just sitting down this alley, in the pouring rain. My approach does not stir her, I reach my hand down and she looks up at me. She has soft features, and long dark hair. Her eyes are a pure emerald color, yet there's no emotion in her face. She seems void of expression. She looks back down to my hand, before gently taking hold of it. I help her to her feet, and together we walk. She seems dazed, and says nothing. Not that I've bothered to engage her in conversation. I'm unsure what to do, so I simply bring her to my home.

Not that it is much of a home. Though would be considered of a townhome style. The windows are boarded up, but the entire city's windows are boarded up. I often wonder what this city used to look like. I recall vague memories of a city full of angels, walking the streets and going about their day-to-day lives. I do not know if these are real memories, or simply memories of dreams. Inside the house is dirty, and I lead her upstairs to a bedroom. I walk her to the bed, and she simply falls on it. A poof of dust floats up, but she doesn't seem to care.

I decide to simply let her sleep. I walk out of the room, and close the door behind myself. I walk back downstairs, and back outside. Down the street I see a group of people, each one bares a monster's marks. Elongated ears, tails, wings, claws, oddly colored skin, or even fur. Each person resembled a monster. Yet no one else, seems bothered by this fact. I am. I feel their monstrous traits are a show of who they really are. It explains why those with similar traits are often together. They seek out the angels, looking to turn them into monsters. I simply don't like them near my house.

The next morning I'm in the sad excuse I have for a kitchen, contemplating my limited supply of food. A hear a creek of wood, and look up. The instant I do the angel scurries back into the room. She must be frightened of me, perhaps thinks I kidnapped her. I glance back to the food, surely a peace offering of food will calm her. I grab a box of cereal, though I lack for milk. I should probably get more food. I head upstairs, and knock on her door. There's no answer, so I set the box down, and head back downstairs. No sense scaring her further.

I go back downstairs, and examine the food again. Nothing noteworthy. The house feels older than it likely is, mostly because I haven't bothered to clean since finding it. Perhaps I should go out again... No... she might go outside. I can't let her go outside with the monsters. I'll just wait.

Luckily, it wasn't long before I hear wood creek again, I look up to see her. She has the box of cereal, and is coming down the stairs. She looks confused, and nervous. She seems unsure what to say, finally she gives a nervous smile and says. "Thank you, for the cereal."

"I wish I could offer more." I responded. She gave a soft sigh of relief, I only wondered what could be going thru her head. She cautiously walks forward into the kitchen, looking around. "This place is a mess." she says, with a bit of a nervous laugh. "I suppose it is..." I offer, she looks around more, before looking puzzled, she points, "What happened there?" I look over, and there is a large hole in the wall. Large enough to effortlessly walk thru. I study it a moment, I do recall the event, but I don't wish to scare her. So I lie, "Dunno, never noticed it before."

She looks to me, "Never noticed it? It's a giant hole!" I shrug, and decide to change the subject. "I'm gonna go get more food." I head towards the door, before pausing and looking back. She's right behind me, and smiled, "Let's go." she says. "What? No. You need to stay inside." I objected. "Why?" she asked.

That was a good question, and one I didn't want to answer. Every angel I'd found was quickly terrified of the monsters. "I'm not sure you'll like what you see." I offered. She shook her head, "Nonsense. You need real food, and some cleaning supplies." she said with a laugh. She seems to have quickly accepted the oddness of waking up in a stranger's house. Or, perhaps, she simply wanted to get outside to figure out where she was so she could 'escape'. Escape never ended well. "Fine, but I warned you." I offered, before opening the door and heading out. The street was deserted.

She was wide-eyed, as she looked around. It was certainly not what she had expected to see. I began down the street, and she quickly followed. Perhaps abandoning her thoughts of running off, and now concerned for her well being. "Where are we?" she asked softly. I glance back to her, before looking up at the street sign. "3rd, and 19th" I said, pointing. She stared at the sign as we passed, "In what city?" she added. I answered, giving a quick glance back, "Gatpurory." She blinked a couple times, clearly having never heard the name. I'd yet to meet an angel who had.

She was quiet for a long while, after that. As we walked, I saw a group across the street. Large ears, gray skin, and some had wings. She must have seen them too, as she quickly grasped the back of my shirt. "Wha- whi- wings- gray-" she managed to mutter. I ignored them, and they ignored us. Once they had passed she spoke again, "What were those things?"

I spoke plainly, "Monsters." She tightened her grip on the back of my shirt, "Are those... normal here?" she muttered. "Yes, it's more odd that you aren't a monster." I said. She was quiet, seeming to think. "But! You aren't a monster!" I stopped walking. Those words. I turned to look at her. She looked me up and down, as if to double check. "You don't look like a monster, you look normal." she said, as if affirming her earlier statement. I gave a chuckle, and leaned close to her meeting her eyes.

"The worst monsters, are those you cannot distinguish from regular people."

Author's Note

Possibly a start for a full story, feed back would be appreciated. If anyone wants more, please tell me.

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[Fireyphoenix]

This sounds like the story of my own tortured existence.
An ending line should say “ but wait! There’s more!”