The Tarnished Angel dropped to the floor in a shower of glass in front of Jenny’s table. Little cuts bled all over its pale body. With a disgusting retching sound, it vomited more blood.
Jenny’s mind went blank as she stared in horror. An angel? Like from the Bible? How was this an angel? She heard screams and shouts, followed by the clangs of knocked-over chairs and tables. That seemed to draw the creature’s attention because it turned its head and locked those empty eyes on Jenny.
She backed away slowly. Jagged glass cut into her jeans, and she winced in pain. Something clanged, and she realized the table behind her had fallen over and blocked her exit.
The angel crawled forward, glass crunching underneath its exposed palms and legs. It didn’t seem to mind. Jenny could see its bones moving underneath its pale skin. Blood flowed from its mouth still, and Jenny whimpered when its blonde head bumped her table. She held her bag in front of her like a shield.
Something struck the angel on the face with a heavy thunk. It hissed and turned away from Jenny, and she saw what had hit it. A stapler lay open on the floor.
“Get out of there, Jenny!” Susan’s voice cut through the dread pounding in Jenny’s head. She stood next to the chalkboard holding up the large hole puncher.
Mrs. Rivera was still leaning against her desk, staring at the angel and muttering in Spanish. She stepped towards it. She seemed transfixed.
Jenny pushed the table out of her way and got to her feet. Everyone else had run out through the door, and there was a rush of footsteps and screaming up and down the halls. Were there more out there?
The angel, still on all fours, fixed its blank stare on Mrs. Rivera. It was on its toes now instead of its knees, and Jenny thought it almost looked like a cat ready to pounce.
“Dios mío,” whispered Mrs. Rivera, spreading her arms as though she were welcoming the angel with a hug.
It leaped off the floor, baring its teeth, then the two of them collapsed. Mrs. Rivera screamed, over and over as the angel wriggled on top of her, snarling and chewing. It pinned her arms down then sank its teeth into her neck. Then she went silent and stared blankly at the ceiling, muttering something faintly about the Lord as blood pooled around her. The angel bit and chew and slurped all the while.
Jenny couldn’t make a sound. She clutched her bag, shaking, taking a step backward towards the door. She couldn’t take her eyes off the angel chewing its way through Mrs. Rivera’s neck. Its blonde hair and pasty skin were now stained with blood. She glanced over at Susan who seemed petrified.
“Susan,” whispered Jenny. But she’d either been too quiet or Susan was too terrified to hear her. Jenny took another step back, and her boot connected with a chair, knocking it over.
The clatter made her heart leap into her throat. The angel’s head tilted towards her.
> Tarnished Angel (Level 3)
The new message didn’t help. Wasn’t it just at Level 2?
It bared its teeth, glistening red with bits and strands of meat hanging from its lips. It crawled off Mrs. Rivera’s body, and Jenny could see its shoulder blades as its back rippled.
Jesus fucking Christ, thought Jenny. Fear filled her head with so much pressure she thought her head would cave in. She couldn’t bring her legs to move. She couldn’t take a single step or look away from the white blankness of the angel’s eyes.
Then, just when she thought it would leap onto her too, the angel paused. It raised its head and sniffed the air, then turned again, this time towards Susan who hadn’t moved either.
Run, Jenny tried to say. Her tongue moved, but no sound escaped her throat. She didn’t want the angel to come after her again. She could barely inhale. Her legs were shaking so badly, and she couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit relieved that the angel had turned away. She couldn’t stop picturing it tearing her apart and chewing through her stomach and making her watch until she died.
It leaped onto Mrs. Rivera’s desk, still hunched over, still sniffing. Susan still hadn’t moved, and Jenny’s heart was about to burst out of her chest. She wanted to shout, scream, whisper, anything, but she couldn’t bring herself to make a sound.
Susan let out something halfway between a whimper and a cry for help. The angel hissed. It looked like it would leap, and that was when Jenny’s feet suddenly felt free and weightless. She rushed towards the desk and swung her bookbag as hard as she could.
For the first time, she was grateful she had to lug heavy hardcover textbooks around. The bag struck the angel on its side with a satisfying thud, knocking it off the desk. It landed on Mrs. Rivera's body with a screech, scrambling to regain balance. But its hands and feet kept slipping on blood.
Jenny swung her bag again, this time bringing it over her head, holding it by one arm strap. She brought it down on the angel’s blonde head. Her bag tore open upon impact, and all her books and notes went sprawling across the floor as the angel crumpled beside Mrs. Rivera.
She shook, holding what was left of her bag. The angel twitched facedown in a pool of blood.
“Is it dead?” whispered Susan.
The creatures hissed and then rolled away, around Mrs. Rivera's desk.
“No!” shouted Jenny. “Susan, it’s-”
But Susan didn’t even get a chance to scream as it leaped onto her. The hole puncher went flying out of her hands, and Jenny could hear the angel’s teeth gnashing over and over.
Jenny grabbed a chair and rushed around the desk, bracing herself for the worst. But Susan had her hands on the angel's tiny torso, keeping its teeth away from her neck and face.
Thrusting with the chair, legs facing outward, Jenny pushed the angel off Susan. It screeched and howled, scratching at the chair, the chalkboard, and the floor. Its legs kicked hard. The look in its eyes was empty and desperate.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
With a shout, Jenny struck the angel again with the chair’s legs.
Susan got to her feet, breathing hard. The angel was on all fours again, its blond hair covering its bloodied face. Jenny thrust again with the chair, feeling like she was keeping back a violent rabid dog or something, but the angel grabbed one of the chair’s legs and yanked.
The momentum pulled Jenny forward. She hadn’t let go in time, and she went tripping over the chair.
She heard Susan cry out, but Jenny thrust her forearm against the angel’s neck and chin as she crashed on top of it. It gnashed its jaws over and over, the sound of its clacking teeth making Jenny sick. It scratched and pulled at her sweater and her hair. The thick stench of blood clogged her nose.
There was a nasty purple bruise on its forehead from where she’d struck it with her bag before, and that gave her hope. If it could get hurt then it could die.
It grabbed Jenny’s face, and she couldn’t help but scream. It rolled the two of them over. Jenny’s head struck the floor hard as it scrambled on top of her and tried to pin down her arms just as it had done Mrs. Rivera’s. But it couldn’t get a grip as Jenny struggled.
Blood and drool rained on Jenny’s face as she reached for something. Anything. Her fingers closed around something cold and metallic and heavy. The hole puncher!
She swung it hard. It made contact with the side of the angel’s head. With a cry, it went limp and fell to the side. But Jenny didn’t stop. She swung the hole puncher over and over, using both hands as she sat up. So many times that she lost count. Until its face was a mess of red mush. She couldn’t tell if the angel was screaming or if she was.
She didn’t stop until she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“I think it’s dead now,” Susan whispered, her voice quiet and small. The hole puncher dropped from Jenny’s hands. It was covered in blood and bits of flesh. What remained of the angel's face was a gruesome mess. She'd completely caved in its nose, broken through its skull, and knocked teeth into its throat.
A slew of messages blossomed in her thoughts:
> You’ve defeated Tarnished Angel (Level 3)
>
> Experience has been awarded
>
> +10 Energy gained
> First Blood Bonus!
>
> Congratulations on your first kill
>
> A great amount of Experience and Energy has been awarded
>
> +100 Energy
> Leveled up!
>
> Jenny Huang, Level 1 -> Level 2
>
> +2 Stat Points
Jenny hardly registered the messages. They felt very much like video game notifications. Experience? Energy? Stat points? But it was difficult to focus on that when she’d just killed something.
She stared at the dead angel. It lay there with one arm across its torso, the other arm limp on the ground. It looked sickly and drab, its skin no longer translucent. Whatever Jenny had thought made it look ethereal before was gone. Strands of blonde hair floated in the pool of blood around its ruined head.
Feeling like she was going to be sick, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just smashed in the face of a woman who’d been starved nearly to death. The angel’s body looked exactly like the bodies of Holocaust survivors. Its stomach was completely sunken in. It had no flesh on its limbs, just bones and skin.
How was this an angel? The angels Jenny had learned about in Sunday School were nothing like this. She’d always imagined them as towering masculine figures of light with wings that stretched across the sky.
Susan knelt down beside her, and Jenny realized what had distracted the angel before. Susan had wet herself.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, her voice shaking. Her face was covered in droplets of blood.
Jenny shook her head. She shut her eyes and sat back. It was quiet in the room now. The hallway outside seemed to have quieted down too. But something nagged at her thoughts. “Why do we have stat points?” she said, partly to herself.
“What?” asked Susan.
“These messages,” said Jenny. “In my head. Do you have it too?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It said something like welcome and human population…”
They both went silent as a new message appeared. Jenny figured Susan had gotten it too.
> Human Population Remaining: 784
Susan started to sob. Jenny pulled her into an embrace, stroking her blue hair with bloodied hands. Whatever this survival challenge was, it had only been a few minutes and a hundred people were dead. She wrapped her arms tightly around Susan and tried not to cry. With the adrenaline fading, another thought burst through her head. But this wasn’t a notification.
Oliver!
He was out there somewhere in the school. What if his class got attacked too? Jenny swallowed hard, trying to listen carefully. But other than Susan’s muffled sobs, she couldn’t hear anything else.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. Susan’s warmth brought her some comfort, despite the fact that they were covered in blood and filth.
There were monsters. These angel things. They had levels like in games. She had levels too. She’d even gotten a bonus for killing one of them, and that got her enough experience to level up.
How do I use them? Jenny grit her teeth. When Susan mentioned the human population, they’d both thought about that and received an update. So then… she focused hard on Stats.
> Jenny Huang
>
> Human (Level 2)
>
> Age: 6,801 days
>
> Stats:
>
> Power: 3
>
> Durability: 5
>
> Stamina: 3
>
> Agility: 3
>
> Stat Points Available: 2
>
> Energy Available: 110
It worked! There it was. In her mind, a chart depicting her name and age and everything else. She wondered how best to apply her 2 points, but then the Energy available caught her attention. The system seemed to respond to thought, so she focused on the question, What are these points for?
> Starting stats are based on your current physical prowess.
>
> +2 Stat Points are awarded per level. They may be assigned as desired.
>
> Every kill harvests Energy. Energy can be used to craft tools, equipment, and weapons. Your capability and capacity to craft are highly dependent on your imagination. The guidance system will apply a cost to your wishes.
A weapon… the first thought to pop into her head was a gun. An assault rifle. She preferred snipers in games, but if her aim was terrible in real life, an assault rifle would give her a better chance.
> An Assault Rifle will cost 300 Energy to craft. Additional Energy will be required for ammunition. Insufficient Energy.
Shit. That wasn’t going to work. How about a knife then? Maybe a sword? No. A knife would be too small, and she’d always thought swords were dumb. She needed something practical. Something familiar.
Jenny remembered something from last summer when her stepfather Henry had whisked the family away to his cabin upstate by the Hudson River. She’d caught him and her mom ‘making love’ by accident one morning when she couldn’t sleep. She’d then spent the rest of that day out back near the woods, chopping firewood until her arms felt like falling off and her thoughts were mush. But she’d had a knack for hitting the wood just right.
> A Hatchet will cost 75 Energy to craft. Sufficient Energy.
Okay, she thought. Now what? She focused on the Hatchet, and a warm golden light enveloped her right hand. She whispered Susan’s name, who got off Jenny and stared at the light.
It took shape, the light turning liquid and glistening before solidifying into a long dark wooden handle and the familiar flat metal head of a hatchet. Its edge glinted briefly, and without even touching it, Jenny knew it was sharper than the one she’d used before. The handle felt good in her hand. The hatchet had a satisfying weight.
> Hatchet (Tier 1)
>
> Energy Remaining: 35