• • Short Stories
• March 8, 2025

The Angel of Death (Part I)

I know three things about myself, and considering the fact that I don’t remember my life from before I died (the first time), that’s always sounded pretty good to me. 

First, I know I like the feeling of money on my face, and second, I like using that money to buy bullets, particularly those meant for the the angelic and demonic denizens of the afterlife. 

But, what I like more than even that is using those bullets on said monsters and assholes, but that’s an unhealthy trinity.

All-in all, this means that I’m usually broke, and for an Angelkin with an addiction for murdering the denizens of Heaven and Hell, that’s bad.

Thankfully for me, a very bad man called Hasan is offering a good deal to fix this problem. This sounds good for me, except the fact that he offered several million other people the same deal. That’s a bad thing if you were wondering.

The name is Venatrix Dawn, but my friends call me Vee, and-

‘Who are you talking to?’ says the oh-so annoying soul in my head that made me an Angelkin. You see, when I died on whatever universe that I’m from, I went to Heaven. Sounds great, except for the fact that a dead Archangel, one of the strongest beings in the multiverse, wanted a new body.

Suffice to say, she tried to take over my soul and resurrect herself, but I won that mental battle.

‘As you endlessly seek to remind me,’ she complains, as if she has the worst end of the deal.

I would argue not, because while I won, I lost my memories, of my whole fucking life… 

Then came the angels who don’t like mortals saying ‘no’ to Archangels who try to take them over, especially when that Archangel is Azrael…

The Archangel of Death.

‘Can you blame them? There must be someone to bring souls to their natural end.’

Yeah, we have Valkyries for that.

‘Those are Pagans!’

Yeah, well, maybe I’m Pagan, ever think about that?

‘You don’t even know who you are!’

And whose fault is that?

There is one bright side to all this, since breaking out of Heaven I’m now venturing the multiverse. More often than not, it’s far blander than it should be, but I’ve figured out where it’s cool to hang out. 

I’ve basically gotten a second chance at life, with no way to truly find out who I was the first go around. 

So far, it’s been fun, I’ve had the chance to meet Guardians, these superpowered people with nigh omni-archal beings sealed inside them. That means they all get what I’m going through with this voice in my head. It’s weirder if you’re not talking to yourself all the time when you’re hanging out with them.

I’ve also met some time-travelers, they end up throughout the multiverse, as they usually end up destroying one of infinite timelines and get stuck in the dead ones we multiversal orphans call home.

There are even a few elf-looking fuckers who are supposed to be from another multiverse entirely, but I don’t know how much of that I buy. 

The one bad thing about all three is that they can range from a pretty good assassin, to straight up destroying entire universes, so you always have to be careful who you piss off. It’s relevant information right now, because I’m hanging out with a bunch of them and they’re the competition.

The really bad guy I told you about, who everyone calls Hasan, is bombarding an Earth right now. 

Yes, you heard that right, a man is bombarding an Earth. There are supposedly infinite Earths out there and you’re unlucky enough to be on the one he wants to bomb with fireballs? That’s gotta suck.

Hell, he’s not even being creative, it’s just fireballs.

I bet he’s not even here. Probably just snapped his fingers and fiery asteroids started raining down on it while he sits at home in another dimension. He’s probably knitting for his wife or baking cookies with his grandkids.

The rest of us are waiting on drop ships surrounding the planet’s orbit, watching all it all blow away.

An Illvian Guardian, a species my friend aptly named a Cthulhu face, bumps my arm with his shoulder. “Hey, check that one out,” he says to his friend as he points to an asteroid heading towards the planet’s north pole. 

I watch this asteroid with him, and honestly it looks more like a complete and utter fireball now that I look at it. I watch with him as it flies towards the ice at the top of the Earth, and when it hits…

Well, there aren’t any polar bears anymore. There’s an explosion that reaches a height past the ozone, literally setting it on fire. Like the other fireballs, it doesn’t spread and burn the Earth’s surface, only the spots they hit directly. 

‘He’s closing down the search radius for us,’ Azrael points out to me, right when I was starting to think the same thing. 

Us? I catch, but she keeps quiet.

There are three places not burning, both with their oxygen levels intact. Hasan’s casual planetary bombardment looks pretty accurate. For the thousands of dropships holding Guardians, their relatives, daemons, angels, and the like, he just narrowed down the search zone for our battle royale. 

Three places aren’t burning. Of what was once this Earth’s United States — all that remains is a fine line that’s almost perfectly fire free. Then there are two spots over South Africa and Australia too. 

Hasan could have gotten what he wanted with ease by himself, but if he didn’t give the Guardians of his armies — made up of hundreds of millions of professional warriors — the chance to kill something, they’d probably mutiny and he’d have to kill them.

The goal he’s given us is to find… something, he never said what exactly. We all got the announcement (that was basically an email) that we’ll get it when we see it because it will be more powerful than anything else on the planet. 

The highest level of a mortal here is City Level, pitiful. That mortal was a world leader with nukes, so whatever we’re looking for is going to look pretty obvious.

Huh, it’s kind of funny how unfair this is to every person down below. Essentially, a god decided he wanted something on their planet, and now they all die for it without a second thought from the majority of us. 

‘You don’t find it strange how you can consider the consequences before you, but feel an ounce of guilt about it?’ Azrael asks me.

You know the answer to that question, I tell her.

‘I’m sorry I’ve done this to you.’

Don’t kid yourself. You’re not sorry for anything.

The fireballs stop falling, and the world continues to burn on its own. It’s pretty in a way, to see an Earth covered by a color other than blue, then suddenly the dropships’ doors start opening and the voice of one of Hasan’s generals come overhead.

“You’ll know what he wants when you see it,” he tells us again, “don’t destroy it or you won’t have anywhere to hide.”

With that warning, the millions of killers raging from the power level to destroy cities to planets fly out of the dropships. 

Immediately, they start killing each other so there’s less competition. Beams, super-swords and explosions appear in a flurry across the sky as godlike beings fight for the favor of another godlike being far above them. 

There are a few quick and flashy explosions that nearly blind my view of Earth, but it dies down pretty quickly. These kind of fights happen between people moving around and beyond hyperspeed, or someone who moves at hyperspeed kills someone who can’t. Light speed movers have better things to do.

Now where am I in all this? I’m on the dropship, just hanging out, happy to let everyone else weed out the weaker fighters first. I watch with bated breath as the first wave of people who were probably allies at one time finish killing each other, and descend on the planet in a second.

‘I assume there’s a rhyme and reason to this,’ Azrael asks me, likely wondering why I’m just sitting here enjoying the sights. 

Well, being the Angelkin to the Archangel of Death has added perks asides from the strength, healing, and overrated wings.

‘Which one are you using?’ she asks me, because while we may share a body, unlike my friend Jetta and her body’s houseguest, Azrael can barely sense anything through my own senses. She used to have no trouble knowing what’s going on, but she’s slowly going away, bit by bit. 

‘If you would just answer my question, I would appreciate it.’

Sure thing, bird nose, I’m using your eyes to look for death. 

I hear a little click in my ear. I know from looking in the mirror that my brown eyes turn white and black when I do this, like when I go full angel of death. I do what I’m sure Azrael used to be able to do when she was alive, and see the various dying souls under my purview.

I look across the globe, watching the areas that still have some mortals left. There I see people who have just died, and I inspect their souls a hundred at a time. Since, I can think faster than I can move and my brain is stronger than my fist, my eyes and mind can process hundreds of souls within milliseconds. 

I can see how people died, what they died thinking about, where they died, and how long they have before their souls pass on, which is sometimes instantaneous. Though not useful to what’s happening right now, I can even tell where they’re going. Sometimes its Heaven, sometimes Hell, other times it’s their singular universe’s one or many afterlives, or the grand Underworld of the multiverse. 

When there’s so many living things that live across infinity, you gotta have a lot of different places to put them.

Thankfully, most worlds have their own personal afterlives from what I’ve seen. The Underworld of the multiverse is a terrible place I hear, and if Heaven was a dick to me I can only imagine how terrible Hell is.

What I’m looking for right now, is a mortal who knows something, a mortal who died carrying a secret that might lead me to what I want. Why go down there myself questioning people when I can just go to someone who actually knows something? I almost feel bad for my competitors.

Plus, while I can take on the vast majority of Guardians down there, many at the same time, it only takes one on the higher end of the planetary power scale to catch me by surprise and rip my heart out. Why not minimize the risk? 

Dying risks going to the Underworld from what Azrael has told me. When I died the second and third time, it was more of an out-of-body experience I couldn’t understand. 

All I know is that it gives her the chance to take me over again. That’s why its an out-of-body experience. Those other times I died and I fought Azrael for control, I won again and again, just missing the Underworld, but her connection to me was re-strengthened. 

I’m of the faster-I-can-get-rid-of-her-the-better camp, so I was pretty disappointed to learn this.

‘I already told you, I’m done trying to take you over, I don’t know how but your will is exceptionally strong.’

I thought you said I have no self control?

‘You don’t, but for some reason when something is trying to control your body or mind, your will’s strength grows exponentially. Likely something traumatic in your past that you can’t remember.’

Perfect.

Now while that ‘perfect’ was sarcastic. It stops being sarcastic when I start describing the special soul I found. It hit a few trigger words that I’m looking for.

… mind-meld…

Superweapon…

… keep from…

Guardians can’t get…

It’s… her… 

“AAAAHH!!”

I wince as the soul screams while I was listening too closely. In a universe filled completely by mortals, if a soul knows about Guardians, they know about how everything works, and that’s more information than they should. This soul can definitely point me in the right direction, which means my time has arrived.

I pull on my bandolier so it hangs on tight, throw on the leather jacket because… well, I like it, and it makes my pale skin look like a choice. Then I slip on my gun holsters. 

When you’re just standing around the gun holsters can really dig into your ribs.

Then I leap from the open dropship into the atmosphere over Earth, and…

Floomf…

…out pops the “angel of death” wings, fitting rather perfectly with the black feathers. Don’t worry, I didn’t put any holes in the leather jacket. They appear from a circular rune, floating above my back. It saves me the pain in case they get stabbed or destroyed, and I can always summon them back.

‘Yes, but I feel that pain in case you’ve-’

Don’t care, if you weren’t ready to deal with the consequences, you shouldn’t have tried to takeover my soul.

‘It was for the good of all mortals you-’

Ah, ah, ah… I interrupt her, driving her closer towards a rage induced aneurysm, if souls can still get those. Somehow, she just hasn’t learned that this new being ‘nice’ routine isn’t going to get me to help her stick around. 

It takes seconds to casually stroll from orbit to the skyline of this city. I think it’s Chicago, but it doesn’t feel that familiar to me. It’s more advanced than what I feel comfortable with. Maybe the Earth I’m from was a decade or two behind this one.

Here, the buildings are taller, cleaner, and more sophisticated. I mean there are still holographic advertisements of women in lingerie, so society is still pretty gross, but advanced in how gross it— 

Oh hey, this place has men in lingerie too, how forward thinking. I should get Smoak something, Jetta would die laughing about it.

Even with all the smoke, the fire, and the night sky, this city is frighteningly bright with all the fucking lights. I bet this was a wealthy human race too, because why else would anyone spend money on fixing Chicago?

I stay close to the smoke as I fly down these city streets. My wings may be black, but they’re still big enough that they ain’t easy to miss. 

Fighting Guardians ain’t like fighting angels and daemons. While angels and daemons are stronger on average, the strongest ones give themselves away with fancy titles and what can only be described as “big dick” energy. I can’t stress to myself enough that walking into a stronger Guardian who’s just powered down can really fuck up my day. Even some of the weaker ones can have deadly precise powers. Something Jetta can’t seem to remember.

‘Still mad about the bar?’ 

Still mad about the bar.

Good thing about Azrael’s eyes is that they don’t need light. I can see through the smoke just fine. I try to stay low near the smoke’s peak at the height of the skyscrapers.

There are a few Guardians hanging around, and what looks like an orange, pointy horned wrath daemon. Not sure what one of them is doing with Guardians. Even weirder, the Guardians are different species. It’s not unheard of but usually Guardians hang out in trios of their own kind, or at least that’s what I’ve seen.

Down below I see a werewolf-looking Lupian, the colorful but elfish Cameloanian, and one human Guardian who seems to have the ability to multiply because I see a lot of him around.

‘You do realize that if you saw two human Guardians, they’d look the same? They’d be the different versions of the same guy across two different timelines?’

Why do you always fucking correct me? I’ve been doing this for years, of course I know that. That guy is wearing the same samurai looking armor across all six of his clones. They’re clones!

‘Just checking.’

No, you’re doubting, and I don’t need doubt. What I need is to kill them before that soul passes on.

Speaking of killing, I tie my dark hair into a ponytail. I do it with my magic energy, saves me time. Then I go for the twin handguns on each side of my ribs. They look like M9s, but real M9s can’t shoot daemon-killing bullets. Thankfully for my wallet, they do shoot normal bullets, and those can hurt enough Guardians just fine.

Time to focus on the fun part. I bend my knees, and pool the angel energy—

‘Light magic.’

Ugh.

I pool light magic into my feet to make myself a platform, one in the form of a flat rune under my feet. I let the wings turn to sparkles, they’ll just get hit or get caught on something.

Swoosh.

One of the human clones turns around, and it looks like he has that white eye Smoak has, but in both of his eyes. Those eyes can see in every direction, but clearly his doesn’t have any real range. 

Let’s get between the human clones, confuse the shit out of them.

Before, I was just falling in one direction, but I boost the force behind my legs. By the time one of the clones warns the others I’m there…  

… I’m there.

I fly between the Lupian and the Cameloanian girl, my feet hit the back of a clone and using him like a skateboard across the ground.

“What the hell?!” the Lupian yells as he summons this energy blade that runs the length of his arm.

I lift my handguns and start shooting for the humans.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

I go through a few bullets getting two of them, sending one to the ground dead and the other convulsing in pain. I’ve met people with multiplying abilities, usually the clones disappear when killed, or even when they’re just touched. This may be a more powerful effect if they bleed and stick around as deadbodies.

Whift!

The Cameloanian girl is fast. She throws a glowing green weapon down into the ground, and then snaps to it.

I can tell by her war face she’s going her hardest. She’s not fazed, annoyed at best.

She raises two sais with a green glow stemming from them, and her legs move faster than human eyes can see. When she stabs for my eye, I just bob my head out of the way with ease. Her attacking speed doesn’t match that flash step she does.

Its entertaining watching her grit her teeth as she tries to stab me. She even tries to knee me, but I catch her leg.

Pfft.

The look on her face is priceless, especially as she ducks under my punch. I should mention that I’m punching with my gun, you know, to shoot her after I smack her with it. 

Even though she dodges out of the way with the gun right next to her ear, I still pull the trigger.

BANG!

Two-in-one, I shoot her Lupian friend in the arm-which is easy considering he’s a big, muscle, hairy werewolf-looking alien-and I make her ears ring. 

She winces as I backhand her with the gun—

Smack!

—and send her flying a few feet over. 

She has the acrobatic ability to twist in the air like a cat and land on her feet. She even slams another green glowing sai into the ground to steady herself.

Swif.

“You’re not as good as you think,” I hear the daemon say behind me, and then lives up to his own insult.

The fury looks more red than red orange close, and he swings his curved sword near the speed of light. 

Whish!

I duck forward fast enough that it doesn’t even nick my ponytail. I’m not sweating it.

Then I do, what I like to call, a cool move where I cross both pistols behind my back and shoot two rounds into his abdomen. They don’t pierce his skin but at point blank range they’ll knock the wind out of him. 

After he gets a whiff of my dark colored hair, I flip forward, and kick him in the jaw with my boot, which probably hurt more than the bullet, because you know… steel soles.

‘Most people just wear steel tips.’

Well, I’m not most fucking people so deal with it.

I flip forward right into the Camloanian and bring my boot down on her. 

I take it back, that’s the best two-in-one move I’ve done today. People like this are too slow to do anything, but just fast enough that there’s a challenge in making them look like—

Crack!

Suddenly, a foot rocks my shit. Before I know it, I’m getting stabbed by her sais before an energy stabs into my back.

‘You were getting cocky,’ the jerk reminds me.

The enemy confirms it when he flings my limp body into a car.

I can feel my insides rearrange themselves and stitch themselves back together. The pain that comes from healing is worse than being stabbed. Having something cut loose stings hurts, but it doesn’t compare to having something be sewn together. 

The only good thing to come out of this kind of pain is the adrenaline. For them, it was probably a few seconds. For me, it felt like a few solid minutes as they got ready to come at me again. They move in slow motion as they take their first few steps.

They think they’ve gotten lucky, that I’m a dead-woman-walking with all the blood I lost. They’re going to be caught off guard like I was.

The woman leads the way, and I throw a weak punch at the woman’s face. She blocks, and slows down to rest, to toy with me.

That momentary hesitation, that mere thought to tempt and manipulate me, was a grave mistake. I spin my handguns in my hands as I take two swings at her in quick succession. Both attacks catch her pretty little face, and she barely gets her arms up before I hit her a third time. It’s cute how the little Guardian thinks she can keep up.

I crack her jaw with the butt of the gun and she takes a blow on her arm. I see her hand twitch, and she nearly goes to grab it in pain, but she goes she stabs for my head again instead. I’ll give her points, she fights through her pain.

‘Did you have a condescending father growing up? You think like one.’

Fuck off.

I dodge again, and wrap my arms around her shoulder, bending her face into my knee.

Crack!

You know, sometimes I like the sound of breaking an asshole’s nose, and sometimes it grosses me out. 

I liked it this time.

Swif.

I know the sound of speeding daemon too well, and I kick backwards immediately to slam my boot right into his stomach, right where I shot him.

I move at light speed to avoid him grabbing my leg, and leap to kick him across the chin with my other leg, all while sending the Cameloanian spinning through the air.

‘You really think you’re amazing, don’t you?’

It’s the only thing I’m good at, I will definitely gloat in my own head about it.

‘Our head,’ Azrael tries to tell me.

MY HEAD, I correct her. 

When I land, I hear the sound of a blade heading for me. I lean back to dodge the Lupian’s orange glowing bioblade. In the millisecond between the blade passing me and it hitting the ground behind me, I raise my gun and shoot him in the ribs he left wide open.

I bet these guys are gods where they’re from. That’s what I’m thinking about as I waste no time back flipping, uppercutting the Lupian in the jaw with the tip of my boot, again. 

I think its my favorite move.

‘It leaves your back open.’

Yes, but I’m fast enough that I can afford to look cool.

‘How old are you?’

Gee, I wonder who’s fault it is that I don’t know that answer to that.

Even as I’m moving through the air and lifting my guns to aim at the Lupian, I’m thinking about how much stronger and faster I am than these guys. 

As I’m shooting the Lupian with the rest of each 15-bullet clip, I wonder if he’s powerful where he’s from, or if that’s why he needs a reward from Hasan. It’s a shame, I bet he needed something really bad to risk the competition here.

I land on my feet and empty the rest of the bullets in my handguns, but here comes the flap of the fury’s leathery wings to get between us. 

He commits a cardinal sin by personally, precisely, and effectively cut all my bullets with his sword.

Click. Click.

The Cameloanian yells, “She’s out!” as she leaps over the Lupian’s head. She throws another sai into the ground and uses the Lupian’s good shoulder as a launching pad towards me. I give myself more power to slow things down.

I look around me as she’s moving in slow motion, and notice three of the human clones around me. One attacking me from behind with a lightsword, one looking to grab my arm, and another readying his own gun far from the fight.

I feel the triggers on my guns, and she’s right they are empty, but she’s still an idiot to rush me now. I can see it forming on the daemon’s face, not only what kind of opponent they’re dealing with, but how they just fucked up against me.

Reload.

With a power not from Azrael, and likely one I had before I died, I reverse-summon the old clips in my gun, and summon new clips from my bandolier. The only sign that I did it, is a white flash of light around the clip of the handguns.

Then I aim both behind me to shoot the two humans, and lift my leg to kick the Cameloanian in her shoulder, all at the same time.

Because I’m that good.

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Stuk!

I shoot both guns and kick the Cameloanian girl into the path of the human clone’s gun. I get both my targets through the torso area somewhere, and she gets shot in the back. 

As she rolls across the ground, her friendly human yells, “Aria!” before I raise both handguns at him. I shoot several bullets, but with a Swiff and swing of his sword, the fury cuts all three shots before he kicks me.

Wasn’t the human dressed like a samurai, why is the demon using a sword now?

‘Samurai used guns the second they came to Japan, despite what Americans may think.’

Hey… you can insult me a lot of ways, but don’t you dare imply that I’m American.

This fury is reminding me why I hate wrath daemons, but they’re still not as bad as serpents of pride, those bastards talk way too much.

‘On that we can agree.’

Shut up.

He goes to kick me and I cross my arms to block. He puts enough force behind it that I slide back across the ground, with debris flying away from me. 

Its always nice to feel the wind flowing through my hair, and the blood rushing through my veins. This battle is giving me one of those things at least, and hey, Azrael’s being pretty quiet compared to usual.

‘Stop distracting yourself!’ she yells at me.

The daemon comes after me with his sword over his head, about to chop me in half with it, or at least my arms.

Switch.

My power doesn’t just let me reload my bullets, but I can change around my loadout. My handguns appear in my holster in a flash of white light, and I find my shotgun in my hands. I lift it so the sword connects with the metal plate that runs across the underside of its frame. 

CLINK!

A custom Benelli tactical shotgun frame, but the pump is much shorter to accommodate the metal plate used for defense. You’d be surprised how many Guardians, daemons, and angels use swords because they move faster than bullets. If only more of them realized that if they magically enhance the bullets, the lead will move faster.

Now if only I could afford those bullets.

His sword shakes against the metal plate that goes a little over the pump and the trigger to protect my fingers. He notices how my hands don’t shake or struggle. It unnerves him, but what’s going to drive him insane is being sliced by his friend.

I twist my shotgun to the left and kick the daemon in the ribs right as the Lupian tries to cut me down with his bioblade. He tries to pull back when he sees his friend moved in the way but he still cuts a line in him.

The daemons goes down to his knees, and the mistake enrages the Lupian. The canine alien was limping before, but once his eyes go red with beserker rage, he limps no more. 

Sadly for him, no berserker rage is going to help him get me.

He tries to cut me in half but I leap and spin over his blade. I land and raise my shotgun towards his kneecap.

PLOOM!

I blow it into a million pieces. 

He falls to his other knee and tries to backhand me with his bioblade, but I slam the underbelly of my shotgun into it, shattering it and breaking his arm at the elbow.

CRACK!

He screams even while in his berserker state.

‘Put him out of his misery, there’s no reason to be so cruel,’ Azrael tells me, warning me of how long I’m dragging this out. She’s right though, I could have killed most of them earlier and conserved more strength. Instead, I let this go on and got caught up in it.

I flip my shotgun and swing it like a baseball across the Lupian’s face, then flip it back just as quickly to aim for his head. 

PLOOM!

I blow his head into a bunch of bloody chunks. My guns may be using normal bullets right now, but they are using far more than normal fire power with the energy I naturally pass through them. 

The fury is still struggling to get up on his hands and knees as I lift and rest my shotgun on my shoulder. As I walk towards him I pull out my handgun in my left hand, having more bullets than shells to waste. 

As I walk up to him, he looks at me over his shoulder. His eyes are bloodshot and his arms tremble in the face of death. “You’re an Angelkin… aren’t you?”

“You know,” I start to complain, “I hear there are only like, two of me in the whole multiverse-”

‘Only one actually.’

“-yet every daemon and angel I fight seems to figure out what I am.”

‘Humans can’t naturally use light magic, only angels, and there are no half-breeds. It’s not that hard to figure out, and not to forget that my death was surely a famed one.’ 

I groan, because even though what she says makes sense, she’s still annoying.

I lift my handgun and point it at the daemon’s head, and add more light energy to the bullet than I naturally do.

He begs for his life, “You don’t have to do this… I can leave and never come back.”

“If life has taught me anything,” I say before I pull the trigger…

BANG!

“…don’t trust the word of a daemon out of Hell.”

Ping. Ping.

“What the fuck is that?” I curse out loud as I look around for the sound.

Ping.

Quickly, I notice the sais the Cameloanian was using are still in the ground, and glowing brighter. 

Fuck.

Ping.

I turn around with my handgun ready to-

WONG!

“Damn it,” I curse as I feel my body unable to move, this green energy entangling me like a web, grabbing and freezing me in place. I drop my handgun as I’m frozen where I am.

‘Transform, Venatrix,’ Azrael tries to tell me, but doing that also rejuvenates my connection to her, so she’ll have to forgive me if I’m more than impartial to the idea. ‘Goddamnit, you’re gonna get killed!’ 

I look forward, frozen in my uncomfortable and painful position, at the Cameloanian Guardian, with her stupid hair and dumb pointy ears. She holds one of her sais radiating in her hand as blood flows from her stomach, and the last of the human clones helps her stand. 

She smiles menacingly as she grows paler by the second. She prompts the human to let her go and he lets the other clones dissipate into dust clouds around us. Instantly, he doubles over and coughs up blood, likely feeling the pain of having me kill all the other clones.

“Do you know what this is?” the Cameloanian tries to taunt me as she slowly approaches my frozen state. When she steps forward, the ground lights up green, looking like a web between all the points she stabbed in the ground. “My trump card, it stops everyone in my web from moving.” 

So I was right about the web theme, and right about even the weaker Guardians having hack abilities up their ass.

She walks closer and picks up my gun, her hand trembling. She’s lost too much blood to have the strength to run her sai through me, so she uses my weapon.

She takes her time raising it, and lifts her other hand from her bleeding stomach to aim it. “Consider this… karma,” she says, and I swear, if I could roll my eyes, I would.

But I can’t, I have to keep looking into her eyes to concentrate, because as the Angelkin to the Archangel of Death, I have some hack abilities too.

For one, no one should look me in the eye when they have the jump on me. I stare intently as Azrael’s eyes white eyes replace mine again. I see a reaction in the Guardian immediately when her muscles tense, and her jaw starts to shake. 

“Wha… wha… what…” she struggles to sputter out, as she’s sucked into my eyes, and she feels her soul leaving her, her life force even. Her veins start to turn black, and the energy holding this place together dissipates. 

Her hold on me falls apart, and her knees give out, but I catch her by the neck so I can finish her off. 

I raise her over my head as I hold our eye contact, drawing out all of her life force, her soul, her will… everything that keeps her alive, I bring that to the surface. 

And then I take it all with an inhale, like an Angel of Death.

I breath in and steal every part of her into the void that is my own soul. With what makes her her, the Cameloanian’s skin shrivels and her bones turn to dust. 

She’s dead, and I drop her, letting her shriveled skin fall to the ground like a rubbery halloween costume.

‘The Death Glare, no soul or force of will has ever been able to escape it.’

I prefer to call it the Azrael Stare, seems more fitting.

I can feel her growling in my head.

“Aria…” the last human whispers as his hand reaches towards the dead flab on the ground. 

Reload.

The gun on the ground appears in my hand, and I aim it at his head. 

BANG!

I didn’t really want to risk seeing the boy cry.

‘Agreed.’

I don’t remember asking your opinion.

‘I don’t remember caring.’

I can’t help but chuckle at that response. Fair enough.

Now for the soul I really came for.

---

This short story follows a character who originated in an older short story, The Thrill of the Kill. Look forward to the next few parts! Check out the YouTube Channel for audio versions of one of our other short stories!