It was night, the room was dark and full of shadows.
Angel could not sleep.
Unlike most seven year old girls, however, Angel wasn’t afraid of the shadows. In fact, she wasn’t even aware of
the shadows. That wasn’t why she was up.
She had sat bolt upright in bed, her blue eyes wide open, a blank look on her face. Tonight’s the night, she
thought to herself. This fact alone made her feel giddy, excited.
And yet her face remained blank.
The Voice was with her in an instant. Angel, it stated firmly, No. Don’t.
Angel ignored it though. It was just a voice in her head after all, and it wasn’t even like a real voice, like
her own self which was secretly howling with joy over the oncoming action. With
hardly a sound, she slipped off the bed and into a pair of fluffy pink bunny
slippers. With her right arm she grabbed her pillow.
Angel, the Voice tried again, Don’t.
And again, Angel ignored it. She walked over to the door and slowly turned the knob.
Angel, you can’t do this, think about the flooooo—
After a while the Voice disappeared, as if someone had pushed it down a well; again Angel wanted to
grin at the analogy, but her face remained blank. Now there was one thing she’d
figured out about the Voice that Max never had: how to turn the stupid thing
The hall was just as quiet as her room had been. In the room across the hall, her flockmates lay sleeping. That
was probably just as well, they didn’t need to see this. But in the morning
they would all understand.
Or she would make them understand.
She’d been in this last room a few times before. It was a lot less difficult to get in, now that Fang had gone. On
the other side of the room, Max lay sleeping in bed, her eyes shut, her mouth
forming a loose frown.
Serves you right you dirty birdie, Angel thought to herself, tiptoeing closer. The
next part was difficult, but important. Again, nosilessly, she took a spare
sheet from the bottom of the bed and began to tie it around Max’s feet. Gazzy
had done something similar to her a year or two ago. She had begged him to show
her how she’d done it, and now here she was doing it herself, perfectly.
Gazzy would be so proud of her.
The next step was a bit more tricky. Now that Fang was gone, Max slept with her arms about a pillow. Again,
so as not to disturb her, Angel reached in and slowly pulled the pillow sheet
off, then used it to tie up Max’s hands. This was something she’d done dozens
of times, but more often on Erasers or other normal humans that had tried to
hurt her in the past.
This left only two things left to do.
For the first, Angel climbed up onto Max’s bed, and sat down on Max’s arms with a dull THUD. Max’s eyes flew
open and she looked about to say something.
Angel never heard it, she pressed her pillow into Max’s face.
From behind it, she could hear a muffled cry as Max tried uselessly to free her limbs. Behind her her wings beat
against the bed and empty air uselessly.
But as Angel continued to hold the pillow down, and the force of Max’s thrashing begain to diminish, Angel could
feel a happy bubbling warmth that started in her chest, worked it’s way up her
throat, and into her mouth.
When Max’s wings finally stopped beating, Angel began to laugh.
© 2023 Created by Z. Powered by
Besides, there are dozens of reasons for Angel to snap, I'm just surprised JP hasn't pulled any yet.
I loved Misery...
:> I love random cruelty in fiction. Frankly, if Angel were this type of character the books would have been shorter and a lot more fun.
*is not improving anything*