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Angel the Beautiful Outcast 2

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Chapter 2 - "Servitude"

I woke earlier than my Angels, as usual, and contemplated what was going through the kid Courtney's mind as I showered.  Though I never much cared for what my captives were thinking, this new one was different.  She was the youngest I'd ever taken, the twins having been two years older when I captured them.  'So what?' I asked myself, staring at my reflection in the slightly fogged mirror in the bathroom as if debating the image I saw in it.
I shook my head and turned away, still wondering why I cared.  When I was dressed, wearing a loose black tee and black jeans as I normally did, I gave a final look at my reflection.  My gaze rested on my face, innocent and deceiving, and my green eyes grinned darkly as my mouth did the same.  "Good morning, Grace," I called as I left my bedroom, stepping into the Angels' room next to it.
"Lucie," Grace muttered groggily, having woken with my call.  "What do you want?"
I laughed lightly and knelt in front of her, staring hard into her eyes.  "You look tired."
"You should know.  The new girl kept me up all night with her sobbing."
I glanced at Courtney over my shoulder, and grinned as I took in her red eyes and sad appearance.  "She cried herself to sleep?"
Grace gave a sarcastic laugh.  "She cried after she passed out, thanks to you.  Couldn't handle the trauma of your touch, I bet."
"That talk could get you in trouble, Grace," I said flatly, turning back to the blonde Angel, only two years younger than I was.  "Be careful now."
"Whatever."  Grace turned to Seraph, the Angel sleeping on her left, and began to shake her awake.  "Get up, Seraph, our slave driver's awake."
"Slave driver?" I asked sincerely.  "Where?"  With a deceiving smile I reached out my hand, stroked Grace's soft, white-feathered wing, and quickly snatched the bony upper ridge.  Pain coursed through the older teen's body and her back arched as she clenched her teeth and cried out.  "Don't forget who's in charge here," I said softly, whispering the words into her ear as she loosened her muscles.
"Sorry," Grace said, breathing hard.
Seraph watched the older Angel as she calmed, carefully moving so as not to be noticed by me.  She had forgotten, apparently, that my eyesight was as sharp as hers.  "I'll let you wake the others, Seraph," I said, my eyes resting on the fifteen-year-old's blank face.  She met my gaze with her soft, hazel eyes for a moment before nodding and silently turning to her sister.
While the four older Angels roused themselves, I crossed the decrepit room to where Courtney lay, propped up against the legs of the table.  "Courtney," I called down to her sweetly, kicking her in the hip to wake her.  As she came to, her eyes blinked open and moved slowly up my admittedly toned body, stopping on my face.  "Good morning," I said.
"Lucie?" the young Angel said, somewhat disoriented.  She felt the chains on her hands and her eyes grew wide as she scanned my smiling face.  "Lucie?"
"What?" I asked, snapping the question at her.
Courtney shrunk away from me as I stared down at her.  "Why?" she said, her voice as small as it had been yesterday.  She tried to hide her face behind her short, straight brown hair.
From across the room, Serenity sighed.  "She's a Chaser, kid.  People as insane-" I gave her a hard stare, "- sorry, eccentric as her don't need a reason."
"Grace, unchain Serenity for me," I said, tossing a keyring over to the blonde without taking my eyes off of the blue-haired Angel.
Serenity strode over uncertainly as I continued to stare at her, and when she had reached my side she paused.  "Yes?" she asked, trying to sound as sweet as possible.
With a single swift motion I grabbed the collar of the Angel's shirt and dragged her to her knees.  Grabbing her wing lightly along the ridge, sending a small pulse of pain down her spine, I said, "You've got the pleasure of teaching the new girl how we do things around here."  As I released her wing, Serenity shivered and nodded.  "Good."
"And us?" Grace asked, standing with her arms crossed next to the twins.  "Are we cleaning your precious bathroom again?"
"First, give me back my keys," I said, and the Angel handed the ring to me.  "Now, you three can go outside and play.  You've been good little girls this week."
Rolling her eyes, Grace led the twins toward the door to the kitchen.  "Glad to have pleased you, Satan."
I turned back to Courtney and grinned, happy to see a look of fear on her face.  "Serenity, you can unchain her hands if you want.  But we want to keep the leash fairly small for the first week or so."
"Where are you going, then?" the blue-haired Angel asked.
"A friend dropped into town," I said.  As I left the house through the back door, I saw Grace and the twins stretching their wings.  Walking over to the older Angel, I spread my own wings and shook them lightly.  "The new girl," I said.  "We'll call her Bright."
Grace only nodded as I took off.  The look in her eyes assured me she would keep the twins from running off.  She was my first Angel, and for five years I'd kept her captive.  I was surprised when, one morning, I woke up and saw she was out of her chains.  It seems she grew loyal to me, however much she hated me.  'I just wish those damn twins would figure it out, too.'
Before Miracle and Seraph took off, they turned and saw Grace walking back to the house.  "Where're you going?" Seraph asked, her pink hair covering her face partly.
"Just wait there a second," the older Angel said.  She stepped into the house and called out, over the sound of muffled sobs, "Serenity, the new kid's name is Bright.  Got it?"
"Bright, got it!" Serenity called back.
Grace walked back outside and rejoined the twins, the three of them lifting off into the air and watching me disappear as I flew back to the city.

__________

Chapter 3 - "To Kill an Angel"

I flew through the sky, gazing down on the scarlet hued streets and houses of suburban Long Island as I soared to the concrete jungle of Manhattan.  In the early Autumn morning there were few thermals to help my flight, and I was forced to use my wings more than I had wanted.  Having not eaten breakfast, I already had little energy to spare.  If I was going to be fighting - and I knew I was - then I had to stop off for a snack somewhere.
Now, let me put this into perspective.  That show "Deadliest Catch" shows that the crab fishers eat close to four thousand calories a day.  To fly in zero-thermal conditions for an hour, I may need three thousand of those same calories.  McDonald's was looking really good as I was flying, let's put it that way.  With no other options, I landed in the nearly empty parking lot of the Golden Arches.
I tucked my wings tightly to my back, hoping no one would notice as I walked briskly to the deserted drive-through.  "Hello?" the heavily Spanish-accented voice crackled from the voicebox.  "Can I take your order?"
The swiftness of the response took me by surprise.  I guess others had walked up to the drive-through to order.  Looking around at the impoverished state of the neighborhood, I probably should have figured it had happened.  "Do you serve burgers now?" I asked, hopeful.
"Yes," the voice answered.  I had expected to hear a "Si," but that was just me being cynical.
"Good.  I'll have ten Big Macs please.  And a large Diet Coke."
The voicebox was silent for a moment.  I wonder what the lady on the other side was thinking, a skinny girl ordering so much for herself.  Suddenly the Spanish lady's voice crackled through the speaker, telling me to come around to the first window.  I pulled two twenty-dollar bills from my jean pocket and strode casually to the brightly lit ordering window.  As I handed over the money and waited for the food, I found it impossible to resist saying something stupid.  When the cashier handed me two large, loaded bags of fat and cholesterol, I smiled at her and said sweetly, "Don't worry, I'm not bulimic."
The lady gave me a confused look.  "Oh, do you not know English that well?" I asked.  With her face twisted in a repressed rage, I laughed loudly and flung open my wings, throwing myself into the air.  I landed in Central Park fifteen minutes later, my left hand freezing from the overly-iced soda.  'I can't believe I actually did that,' I said silently.
Sitting against a small boulder, I opened the first bag of  Big Macs and took one out.  Staring at it for a moment, I sighed and unwrapped the package.  "Eating all of these is like torture," I muttered, ripping nearly a quarter of the sandwich off in the first bite and chewing ravenously.  Less that fifteen minutes later, I was throwing out two bags full of empty sandwich boxes.
Feeling refreshed, I checked the sky.  The sunrise was nearly gone, only small signs of red hues remaining on the horizon.  Around me, I could hear morning traffic begin to pick up, and the few pedestrians in the Park walking quickly to jobs or homes.  Taking a deep breath I turned East, strolling purposefully to the same alley I had committed murder in.
That alley... it held something special for me.  It was where I first flew, where I found Grace hiding from her parents.  It was a place of memories for me, and I used it as a little home base while I scoped out the city.  Today, though, I was going to the dirtied alley for a different reason.  I knew the Hunter would be waiting for me there.
Just thinking of the Hunter sent small shivers down my back.  He was tall, dark, and handsome; that's why I fell in love with him.  But when we went out on our first date, in the great city of Paris, France, and I told him about my wings, he freaked out.  His reaction was as evil as I had ever seen, and I still had the scars to prove it.  Armed with only a steak knife and black belt-ranked karate expertise, he chased and fought me for eighteen miles through the city of romance.
I was terrified of the Hunter, and he knew that, but I was along stronger than he was.  The confidence in my strength helped me press forward as I walked quickly to the alleyway.  I expected him to be waiting for me there, alone, but from what I could hear he had brought company.  Two others, Chasers most likely, were going over preparations for my imminent arrival.
Guns were ineffective, the Hunter told them, explaining that my reflexes were sharp enough to dodge bullets if I could see or hear the gun being fired.  And I so could.  'So then they're armed with the only other possible weapon,' I thought.  'Blades.'
I leapt into the air as I neared the alley, deciding to come in from above and attack that way.  I needed to get the Chasers dead first, and then I could focus on my fight.  As I turned the corner into the alleyway, I dropped swiftly at the first person I saw, a young white guy holding a machete.  "What an unwieldy weapon," I said, ripping it out of his hands and driving it into his shoulder as I lifted him high into the air.  "Tch, look at that.  Killed by your own weapon."
The first Chaser fell to the ground, landing with a crunch, and I divebombed the second man.  Another young white guy, he tried to slash me with his army-standard dagger, but missed horribly as I stayed just out of reach.  I grabbed his wrist as it sliced past me, and picked him off the ground with little effort.  "Don't struggle," I chided, the frightened Chaser flailing beneath me.  "You'll dislocate your shoulder."  I laughed darkly.  "Not like it matters," I said, swinging him into the side of the brick building facefirst and letting him drop to the pavement.
Standing calmly on the ground beneath me, the dark-skinned Hunter gazed up at me.  "Are you gonna come to me?" I asked bitingly.  "Or am I supposed to come to you?"
"Lucie, can't we just discuss things like adults?" he asked, his suave voice causing me to hesitate.
Shaking off the emotion I felt, I shrugged and pulled a handgun from my jeans, the same Colt I'd snatched from the Chaser almost a week ago.  "I have five rounds," I said calmly, cocking the gun and aiming.
The Hunter dove away from the first two bullets, ducking behind the dumpster as a third smashed into the concrete.  "Can I take that as a 'No'?"
"Take it as whatever you want, just sit still, damn you."
I cocked the gun again, flying slowly over to the dumpster to get a good shot.  Suddenly, what felt like a wrecking ball smashed into me from behind, knocking me in a downward spiral.  The gun fell from my hand as I crashed into the ground, knocking my head hard enough to make me dizzy.  The Hunter stepped out from behind his hiding spot and grinned down at me, unsheathing a steak knife.
From behind me, someone grabbed my wings and pulled me upright, the bolts of pain coursing through my body causing me to writhe in the unknown person's grip.  I slumped, exhausted from the pain, against the feminine body behind me, and a thought shot through my mind as I blurted it out.  "An Angel?" I said, shocked.
The Hunter grinned as he used the steak knife to cut a slit into my tee shirt, revealing the scar he had given me on my left shoulder.  "Yes, Lucie.  You might recognize her, if you saw her."
Struggling to look over my shoulder, I caught a fleeting glance of dark green hair and a cold, ice blue eye.  "Mary?" I asked, not wanting to believe it.
"Yes, Lucie.  Only, I call her Angel now."
"Mary?"  My mind raced as memories of Mary, my childhood friend, flooded through me.  "I thought he killed you..."
The Angel let out a wicked laugh, twisting the ridge of wing hard enough to send me into spasms.  "I don't think so, Lucie.  But he will kill you, I promise you."
"Why?" I asked, my breathing ragged.  I felt the steak knife cut into the skin of my chest, slowly penetrating into my heart.  "Why?"
The Hunter shrugged as he let the blade sit in my heart.  "You broke my heart, Lucie.  So I'm breaking yours."
A drop of water fell on my cheek, and I turned my face to the cloudless sky.  Flying above the alley, her hands covering her mouth to stop her from screaming, was Grace.  "Run!" I called, my last ounces of energy devoted to keeping my own Angels safe.  With a grunt of pain and exertion I threw myself backward, pushing Mary to the ground.  "Run!" I shouted again, and with adrenaline coursing through me I kicked out at the Hunter, breaking his lower ribs and forcing the breath from his lungs.
I felt the knife in my heart shift, sending a sharp pain through my whole body as I turned to Mary.  Pulling the blade from my body I drove it into her right arm, pushing it through the bone and drawing a scream of pain from the Angel's lips.  Bleeding heavily, I collapsed onto my former friend, feeling my senses growing dim.  The last sounds I heard were Grace's wings, flapping hard as she shot through the sky.  'Stay safe,' I thought, my final breath leaving my body.

__________
Angel: the Beautiful Outcast (Chapters 2 and 3).

I'm hoping that I'm not boring anyone here... lol

Anyway, this is (obviously) the end of the 1st-person perspective. For the most part, I write 1st-person to keep myself from growing too attached to 3rd-person POV, and because it's honestly quite fun. But...

Anyway, thanks for reading, and don't hesitate to drop a comment~!

As always,
Kevin
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