Panic-stricken, Jenny rushed away from the angel she'd just drained to completion. It lay there, an orange, mummified husk. The gym spun around her. The debris. The loose writing. The books and furniture scattered across the hardwood floors. She tasted blood.
Her tentacles swished wildly. They'd grown even thicker and longer than before. A tingling persisted in the back of her head and ran down her spine in a continuous waterfall of sensation; shudders that never quite became shudders. She wanted to throw up.
She wanted more blood. She wanted to die. She'd died. She was sure of it.
She'd lived an entire existence as an angel, fleshless and full of light, with her wings beating and the sun of another world shining on cities hanging from clouds. She'd breathed through her skin; she'd been light.
Then flesh was forced upon her. That life had only lasted a short while before she'd been transformed, mutilated. Sentenced to drown in the ravenous, all-consuming hunger. A hunger she knew all too well.
But she knew what this meant. She knew all the angels in the building had been innocent. Had been creatures of light minding their own business, forced into this survival game.
"Gah!" she screamed, stumbling into the weight room. Her tentacles slashed through every weight and machine, crumpling metal and knocking things away. Breathing hard, and trying desperately to bury the agonizing sadness, the weightful feeling that she'd died, she grabbed a barbell with two tentacles and snapped it in half. She threw the pieces over her shoulder and realized a hole had been dug above. That was how the Desecrated Angel got into the gym. It had cut through the foundation of the school.
But Jenny was only vaguely aware of it. Her world wouldn't stop spinning; she wasn’t sure if she was real. What if the angel had been the true Jenny? What if she was just some afterthought haunting what was left of her fucked up body? How could this even happen?
Angels exist beyond the parameters of linear time.
Perhaps your actions, your severing, and perhaps the actions of Susan Brown's healing took advantage of the schism between worlds.
“I don't care!” shouted Jenny. Her voice was muffled in the weight room. She wanted to keep screaming. Keep shouting. Just to feel alive. Just to feel like she hadn’t killed a part of herself. And she was sick and tired of Eve’s nonsense. She couldn’t quiet her mind. Everything raced all at once.
The flashes. The students she'd attacked and ate. The way she'd ran into herself. Wanted to eat herself. Was convinced she had to eat herself. How she'd cut her own fingers off. The faces. The hunger. The agony. Susan.
Jenny swallowed the lump in her throat, remembering how the Desecrated Angel had licked her. She could still feel its tongue, slimy and wet, the breath reeking of rot and flesh. It went down her head and her back. But she’d been the angel. It wasn’t this body. Yet the feeling remained. The disgust. The gross feeling that she’d been claimed.
She cried out again, shaking. Sweat beaded on her exoskeleton like condensation before rolling down the scales, gathering dried blood and dust. She leaned forward and grabbed her knees - but she didn't have fingers like she used to. She had claws that encircled her crimson-covered legs, and that feeling only made things worse. She wanted to touch someone. Wanted to feel someone else just to make sure she was real.
Linear time... She sucked in deep breaths and realized she wasn't just breathing through her mouth. Her exoskeleton could breathe as well. Her tentacles drew in air, and every little detail was only making her nausea worse.
“Fuck,” she whispered. Golden light flashed. Her hatchet returned to her hand, and squeezing its handle gave her a sense of stabilization. She’d made that decision already. She wasn’t human. She had to be a monster. She had to be. That was the only way to survive. To keep the others alive.
The others. That angel had the others. She’d seen Dr. Lee and Leslie and everyone else who'd been in the library. Oliver, Mackenzie, and Dule had to be with them too. And Jenny understood why. She couldn't even blame the creature. It's exactly the thought that had crossed her mind dozens of times in the pangs of hunger. The library was the biggest source of fresh food left in the building.
If the Desecrated Angel wanted to become "complete", to become wholly flesh, then that was exactly where it should hunt.
She willed herself forward, taking shaky steps, using her tentacles to balance upright. She took the steps up to the gym equipment storage room; it was built higher than the weight room, and she knew it was adjacent to the hallway. Bins with basketballs and volleyballs and footballs were knocked loose. The lacrosse sticks were scattered. Dried blood covered a bunch of things, but she didn't pay it much attention. There were doors leading to the gym teacher’s office, and she knew she could go through them to get back to the hallway, but there was a quicker way.
She switched the hatchet to her left hand. Then she punched the wall as hard as she could. It crumpled under her blow, and Jenny stumbled through the collapsing debris, and she stood in the hallway again, trying to harness her rage.
Like hell would she let the creature have Oliver after all she'd been through. And like hell would Jenny leave the creature alive to go after Susan.
But just as she was about to wrench the cafeteria doors off the handle, she forced herself to pause. She needed to ground herself, center her convictions. She buried her claws in her palm, struggling to puncture the exoskeleton, and shook with a tumultuous ugly rage.
But she knew it would be stupid to rush in there. She’d done enough stupid things. She’d been unhinged, irresponsible, and downright impulsive, and she’d almost died too many times to count. No. If she wanted to do this, she had to go in with a cool head. She had to be focused.
Jenny straightened up as best she could, squaring her shoulders and shutting her eyes. A static image flickered in her head, and she had a vague outline of the hallway, the doors, and the holes in the wall. But she put everything out of thought and focused on her breath.
"Calm down," she whispered. "Calm the fuck down." Don't go rushing into another fight. Not this fight. I can't mess up again."
I have to destroy this thing. I have to figure out what to do. Before it kills everyone else, and this comes down to a one v. one anyway. She didn't think anyone else in the school would be able to handle the Desecrated Angel. It had to be her.
But an ugly thought throbbed in the back of her mind. Maybe it was her own. Maybe it was Eve urging her to win. But if she let the Desecrated Angel kill everyone else, all she'd have to do was defeat it and win guilt-free. It's not like she'd killed anyone, right?
No, she thought. No! The guilt would eat her alive no matter what. And 'everyone else' included Susan and Oliver. She would not allow that. She couldn't.
But what if it came to that anyways?
Fuck. I'll figure it out. Right now, I just have to stop this thing. She inhaled as deeply as she could, her tentacles stretching to their maximum, filling her body with oxygen. Her head stopped spinning. Drown everything else out. Focus on this.
She pressed the tips of two tentacles against the cafeteria door, feeling the cold metal. Trying to feel the vibrations, trying to get some sense of what lay ahead.
But all she had was the pit of doom in her stomach. The relentless dread. Her subconscious screamed at her to run. Escape. It was a primal response. Whatever lay ahead was bad. It was wrong.
She couldn't see through the doors; she'd need to get inside first. Slowly, careful not to make a sound, she pushed the door open the tiniest sliver. The mistiness of the veil was much thicker in the cafeteria. Tendrils of steam curved out like she'd taken the lid off a pot of boiling rice.
Sliding through the opening and holding her breath, she carefully shut the door behind her. If she needed to, she'd tear the doors apart to escape. If she could.
The first thing to hit her was the stench. Rotting foods, spoiled milk, vomit, and blood. Even through her exoskeleton mask, she smelled it. She tasted it through her tentacles, each one swishing, trying to make sense of these disturbing vibrations and the smells and the looming terror that spread through her like ice.
She couldn't see more than a few feet ahead. The mist swirled thick and congested, and the lighting was gloomy but surprisingly colorful. Spread throughout the cafeteria, as if from multicolored lightbulbs, and made ambient by the mist, were colors. Greens and yellows. Oranges and blues and purples. But the mist swirled, and things faded in and out of her view. The lights grew bright then dulled before brightening again.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Her tentacles were overwhelmed, and the static image in her mind was hazy, showing only vague silhouettes and the shapes of tables and pillars. Nothing that could be the Desecrated Angel.
On the far left were the large windows of the cafeteria. Most of them were shattered, but they let in the pasty glow of the veil, and as Jenny moved deeper into the lunchroom, she found what looked like spider webbing. Silky, glistening threads stretched between pillars, from the floors to the ceiling. And stuck to them, stuck all over, were wriggling bodies. Humans and angels and even some of her babies. Some of their eyes glowed blue, and they lay silent, blinking and struggling helplessly. There were tables caught in the webbing too, stuck upright and stained with bloody handprints and smears.
She remembered a lesson about spiders. How they sensed vibrations through their webs to know where prey had been trapped. She’d have to avoid touching the webbing.
Stepping slowly, carefully, her eyes and ears and tentacles on full alert, Jenny crossed between tables. She was terrified one of the phones or trays of food or something would crunch under her feet and give her away. Liquid pooled all over the floor. Milk, water, blood, urine. She stepped over them, not trying to splash into a puddle. It wasn't until she approached the people stuck to the webbing that she saw the sacs.
Enormous sacs, just like the cocoon from the chem lab, wriggling and suspended in the air. She counted almost a dozen near her, her heart sinking with each one. Cause each one came with the notification she'd dreaded this entire time.
Desecrated Angel (level 30)
They're all dripping blood, glowing with specific colors, and she realized they were the source of the blooming, colorful lights. And they were lighting up the cafeteria just as the cocoon in the chem lab had.
Something crunched beneath her foot. A spilled bowl of breakfast cereal, and Jenny froze. Her tentacles went still. She strained every sense, trying to figure out if anything was on to her. But nothing stirred other than the creatures stuck to the webbing. Nothing made a sound.
She moved slower, creeping around the cocoons and the pillars, and it wasn't until she neared the center of the cafeteria that she saw it. The world tearing gash, like an open eye in the middle of the cafeteria floor. It was about the length of a cafeteria table and about as wide as she was tall. She'd seen it from the inside before, when she'd surfaced for air and blood, and crawled out of it. But seeing it now, spread across the floor, a swirling, unblinking darkness, her stomach lurched like she'd climbed up very high and was looking at the street below. A part of her wanted to fall. A part of her still remembered that instruction, His will, beaten into her psyche. Fall. Fall. Fall.
An arm burst from the floor. The darkness rippled around it, and Jenny held her breath. The emaciated arm, just skin stretched over bone, reached forward, and the palm slapped against the dark surface. Then a bald head appeared. The eyes as empty as every angel she'd fought. It bared its teeth, saliva dribbling down its chin as it screeched.
Tarnished Angel (level 1)
Jenny remained motionless, hiding behind a pillar as the Tarnished Angel dragged the rest of its sickly form out. It plopped on the darkness, huffing, straining, and she was just about to rush forward and snip its head off when a soft shush came from above.
Too soft. Unsettlingly soft. It sounded almost motherly, nurturing and kind. A soft, gentle shushing that made both Jenny and the Tarnished Angel raise their heads.
Something shifted. Two giant somethings unfurled, and Jenny realized with racing horror that they were wings. Like butterfly wings, transparent and silky, and as they folded back, their tips nearly reaching the floor, wind battered the cafeteria. The mist swirled and cleared slightly. A chill washed over Jenny, and everything stuck to the webs shook.
On the ceiling, it looked like an enormous insect, but the notification in her head confirmed the lurch of fear.
Desecrated Angel (level 44)
A shiver that seemed to go all the into her bones seized Jenny. She couldn't look away. The angel kept shushing, and it was almost song-like as it raised and flattened its wings again, stirring more air. With the wings flat against the ceiling, it almost vanished into the tile design, and it reminded Jenny of how chameleons or octopi camouflaged.
Every signal in her body screamed danger! The angel had four arms sticking out of its side. Two legs. Twin antennae jutted out from its head where blonde hair shimmered golden and bright. Full of life and energy. Its exoskeleton was no longer shiny and blue; it was strangely metallic, almost fibrous, and it made Jenny think of denim more than anything.
But it was much bigger now, taking up a huge portion of the ceiling with its limbs spread, directly overhead the gash in the floor. When it and its mate had attacked Jenny in the hallway by the library, it might've been a foot taller than her. Now it was several feet bigger; she thought each of its arms were longer than she was tall. Definitely thicker.
Most importantly, it hadn't spotted her yet. Jenny rushed to the side, careful to avoid the webs, and hid behind another large pillar, ducking near a cafeteria table. Chocolate milk was spilled across the orange surface. A crushed tomato lay beneath it. On closer inspection, it wasn't a tomato. It was a lung or something.
Her tentacles stretched lengthwise up the pillar, and she held her breath, peering carefully from the side, using the table as cover.
The Desecrated Angel dropped slowly. It held onto the ceiling with its upper arms while it reached for the new angel with its lower arms. When its feet hit the floor, its large claws striking the surface of the darkness, everything rippled. The Desecrated Angel stood with the top of its blonde head nearly touching the ceiling above. But now that it had moved, Jenny could see what it had been hiding.
She spotted Dr. Lee first. His blood-stained lab coat ripped open. He was struggling, but his limbs were stuck to the webbing that held him and others to the ceiling. Beside him was Leslie whose eyes were shut. And around them were the other faces from the library. Jenny strained, squinting through the gloom. But she didn't see Oliver or Dule or Mackenzie. She saw the others from the chem lab, but that was it. Her heart raced. She pushed the terrible thoughts out of her head and refused to check how many humans were left alive.
A humming sound drew her attention. That giant creature was humming, the sound generating vibrations that sent waves of pleasure through Jenny. Her tentacles shuddered; an odd, strange pull wrapped itself around her heart and tugged as if to say, come closer. She clenched her teeth and stayed as motionless as possible, squeezing her tentacles flat against the pillar.
The Tarnished Angel made a raspy hissing sound, and the Desecrated Angel lifted it, a metallic clawed hand on each of the thin angel's hips. Lifting it up as though it were a baby. As though the Desecrated Angel was a mother raising her newborn to kiss it on the forehead. But instead of a kiss, it put the creature's head in its mouth and violently jerked to the side, snapping the head right off the neck.
Jenny shut her eyes, swearing silently as blood rained down on the table beside her. There was a crunch followed by chewing. Then she heard the unmistakable slurping noise, and her stomach lurched again, but she kept still. Even as the Desecrated Angel started chewing and swallowing, smacking its lips and eating noisily. She forced herself to look and saw the legs of the Tarnished Angel disappearing inside the larger angel's mouth. It raised its face to the ceiling and swallowed again, a sizeable lump moving down its throat to its belly. Its middle wasn’t exposed like before when it was a Wretched Angel; it wore the metallic denim-like covering like a full-body suit. Blue light surged from its navels to its wings, lighting up the mist and cafeteria before fading away.
She took the opportunity to dash to the next pillar, using Instant Acceleration out of fright. Once she'd hidden herself behind it, she checked around the pillar to see steam rising from the angel's face. Two more arms shot out of the darkness below, and the Desecrated Angel lowered its gleaming blue eyes to its next meal.
Jenny searched every inch of the ceiling she could see through the shifting colors and mist. She squinted at all the webbing stretching around her, trying to find Oliver or anyone else. But too many creatures wriggled. Too many things were trapped in the webs, and the danger emanating from the darkness kept throwing her off. Her tentacles kept homing in on the biggest threat, the Desecrated Angel, and the majority of the static vision in her head was just that. Just the oversized four-armed angel as it chewed through the newcomers.
She dashed to the next pillar. Now she'd gone around the Desecrated Angel from where she'd started. There was another exit in the back of the cafeteria, and she could take that upstairs if she needed to escape quickly. But there was still no sign of Oliver. She saw more of her babies, curled up and suspended in a web. Asleep. One of the cocoons was a few feet away, letting off pulsing purple light. She could just make out the silhouette of the creature inside, and she wondered if she could burn it alive while it was still in there. Before it and the others could hatch. Maybe create a distraction.
That was when she realized the Desecrated Angel had stopped eating. The cafeteria was silent. Jenny held her breath, slowly turning around the corner.
It stood there, arms spread, blood dribbling down its front, covering its breasts and spilling over its belly to flow down its legs. Then it turned to face the purple cocoon, and Jenny went completely rigid. It stomped over slowly and crouched down on one knee, bringing its face to the cocoon. Its blonde hair bounced as its wings folded back, glowing brightly.
Jenny could reach out and touch the angel with her tentacles if she wanted to; she didn’t even dare to blink.
It slit a hole in the cocoon using a fingernail bigger than Jenny's face. A slime-covered purple angel screeched and raised its head from inside, and the Desecrated Angel pressed its oversized lips to the smaller angel's face. Jenny's stomach twisted as the retching and swallowing ensued, and she turned away, trying to decide which pillar to rush to next. How best to avoid the webs. She wondered if she could climb up to the ceiling with her tentacles, cut the others free, and get them out.
Or would it be better to fight the Desecrated Angel right now? While it was feeding? To take it by surprise and chop off its enormous head?
What was it even doing here? With all the cocoons and all the angels, undead people, and babies trapped in webbing. It was like a morbid nest. Was this why the Wretched Angels had ignored her and jumped into the hole? Were they called by the Desecrated Angel? Were they all going to hatch and become just like this creature?
The Desecrated Angel made that creepy, gentle purring sound, and once again, Jenny felt drawn to it. Like she wanted it to pick her up and press its lips to her mouth and regurgitate blood and flesh so she could swallow till she was full. It was calling to something deep and primal inside her; it was calling to her angelic needs. It was calling to her like the mother Jenny had always wanted.
Wait. Eve had said this Desecrated Angel was trying to win the Survival Challenge. It was trying to become more flesh, more complete. It was raising all these angels to become Desecrated. It was trying to amass an army.
So that when it won, when the Survival Challenge ended and the school returned to New York, it could surface with an army. And Jenny knew all too well the will that pulsed inside the creature’s head. His will. His desires.
That wasn’t even the worst thought in Jenny’s head. She pictured her city. Pictured the millions of people that walked its street and clogged its buildings. An endless supply of flesh and blood; something that might finally quench the hunger.