I Refuse To Fall, When They Still Exist

Rio has been hunting for angels since she can remember; travelling from state to state since she was born. When a shadowey succubus nearly takes away her breath, she has to fight to survive. And fight off her desires for the mysterious emo kid that helped her out.


9. Chapter 7

The mall food court was bright and cheery, with tinsel strewn across the walls. The caretaker mustn't have taken it down yet, and I wish he'd get the hell on with it. The leftover, cheesy holiday cheer was pissing me off to the max.

I'd showered, changed into something clean, hastily crammed a few essentials in my bag, then sat at this table for a good hour or so; trying to figure out where to go and what to do next. Now that Dad was...gone.

Dad, that little word brought a solid lump to my throat, and tears started threatening to show themselves. Trying to distract myself, I took a sip of the coffee I'd bought. It was a big mistake, as it was ice cold and tasted like ash. My throat constricted, threatening to force the rank liquid out.

"Hey, bad girl. Skipping school, tut tut!" The chair opposite me squeaked, as someone sat in it. Looking through my frizzed-up, brown hair, I saw it was the half-asian emo kid, Belial, from History class. I think he saw my expression, as he swiftly changed his 'tude.

"Jesus, have you been crying or something?" He asked, reaching out to pat my arm. I snatched it away, as I don't need any sympathy, and I certainly don't need it from him. What I need, is my Dad.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

I raised my head about a centimetre, and shot him an ice-cold military stare right in the eyes. "Fuck off!" I spat. If you wanna help me, then do that. And ditch that nickname whilst you're at it.

He visibly backed away then, in recoil to my reply. "How bad is it?" He asked.

How bad is it? I shot my Dad about an hour ago, and you want to know how bad it is? "Just leave me the fuck alone." I snapped, setting my head down on the table. I just wanted to find somewhere 100% safe, even if it's just for one day.

"Can't go home, right? Do you have a place to stay?" He asked, running a weather-beaten hand through my hair. I couldn't be asked to back off, so I just let him. Besides, it felt strangely nice, like someone was looking after me.

Hello! You first talked to him yesterday, and now you're believing he's looking after you? Bullshit!

"Why do you care? I'm a kid from class, and that's it. Nothing more." I snapped, not bothering to lift my head up.

"Hey, I was in your position, without a place to go, not too long ago. I didn't have anybody to look out for me, and it was absolute shit, so I'm looking out for someone."

Yeah right, demon name, I've been up and down this freaking country and there's one just like you in every single fucking town. "Why is it that in every single town in the whole country, there's a jackass who thinks he can get something out of the new girl?" I snapped my head up, as he snatched his hand away. Good thing he did, as I can name 5 different ways of breaking all of his fingers. Not just normally breaking them, but snapping them off one by one.

"Hey, I'm offering you a place to sleep! No need to bite my head off." He replied, as small, extremely visible tears, slid out of my eyes.

Oh, don't you worry about me biting your head off. There are hundreds of things I can name that would do that instead, and be a lot nicer than I would be. "Look, I'm in a lot of shit at the moment, and you're not helping. Now, are you going to fuck off, or will I have to make you?" My hand closed around the polystyrene coffee cup; still about half-full. I could throw it in his face if I wanted to; that might make him back off.

Do you really want a scene though? He''ll leave you alone, but you may get more people getting up in your grill.

"Fine, I'll go. But if you can't think of anywhere to stay, I'll be right here." He lounged back in his chair, acting like he knew something that I didn't. It was slightly unnerving, to say the least. He might even know something about Dad.

You really need to calm your imagination down. A 16-year-old kid, yeah right.

"Don't hold your breath, demon boy." I snapped, standing up from the table. My bag strap scraped at my neck, as the polystyrene cup cracked and split in my hand. I must have gripped it too tightly.

I left him at the food court table, as I went to leave the mall. I suppose I could go home, as succubi corpses rot really quickly. Even the skeleton decays into dust within a week. Nobody knows why, but some hunters think it's so no evidence is left behind.

Maybe there's just his skeleton left, so it would be easier for me. I could pretend I was back in upstate New York, where Dad had to clear out a wulfen infestation at a local morgue. I had to lie on a dissecting table and act as bait, whilst Dad waited in the rafters with his Cheytec m200 Intervention sniper rifle, ready to shoot the first one that came in the room. I was pretty scared, not just because of the wulfen, but because the skeleton of their last meal was on the same table as me, and I could feel the finger bones and everything.

Bet you can't name a single other person who did that when they were nine years old.

I was near the entrance to the mall, just one store away infact, when I began noticing that not everything was ok. It was like...like something was waiting for me. It was probably just psycological, as I knew that whatever was left of Dad was lying on the floor back home, and I wasn't looking forward to it. That's when I heard the wind.

It was very similar to the bad-shit's-gonna-go-down wind that I was used to, but this time, the big, glassy-teethed thing was a lot bigger, a lot more bloodthirsty, and angry. It had never sounded like that before, and never sounded bad when I was in public. Some seriously bad shit must be going down somewhere.

I approached the automatic doors leading out into the parking lot, when I saw something in the sky. It was just a blur from this distance, and normally I'd think it was an odd cloud formation. However, clouds aren't that shape.

The doors slid open, and I could see what it was in a lot more detail. My hand began shaking in fear, as I knew I wouldn't have time to pull out my rowan stake, or Dad's pistol. Both of which, I'd crammed in my bag alongside my sketchbook.

There were angels suspended in the sky. Not just one or two, but at least 20 of them. All were different in appearance. Some white, some black, a few asian and a few latinos. There were some similarities though. Their black, feathery wings were speckled with the falling snow, their silky hair blown back by the wind, and all looking down at me from about 30 or 40 feet in the air, with exactly the same expression of hatred, evil, and the desire to kill me.It was like being backstage at a catwalk show with the bitchiest models.

I watched, as they glared down at me. They couldn't come after me now, as angels can't set foot on the ground when there's daylight, or they'll suffer intolerable pain, but when night fell, I was fucked. I couldn't pull out Dad's pistol and start firing, as for one thing I don't have a firearms license, and for another, I doubt that anyone else could see them.

I kept watching, as a bunch of teenage lads from my school pulled up. they just strolled right by them, confirming my theory that nobody but me could see them. After all, if about 20 beautiful women were hovering in the sky, all in the same black, lacey lingiere, any straight man would be staring.

I backed away, determined to get distance between me and the angels. After all, they can't touch the ground, but they can hover about an inch above it. I turned and went back through the mall, trying not to draw attention to myself, looking for a back way out. I was going to be so dead when night fell, if I couldn't get out of here and grab another gun. Dad's pistol didn't hold more than 6 bullets at a time, and I only had one spare clip. I wish I knew what to do next. Dad would know. He'd sort it out, or tell me how to.

Oh Dad, I wish you were here right now!

I found myself back in the tinsel-strewn food court, where demon-kid Belial was still waiting. Maybe I do need his help, but only until those angels fuck off.

"Knew you'd come back." He said, lounging back in the chair. He was already pissing me off, and he'd only said 4 words.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get cocky. I'd like to, erm, take you up on your offer." I said.

He looked me up and down, sizing me up. If he's thinking of fighting me, he's dead. However, I might give him a chance though, and tie my hands behind my back. And close my eyes. Then, he'll have a slim chance.

"Alright then. One condition though-"

"No conditions." I butted in. Conditions mean trouble at the best of times, and extremely bad shit at the worst of times. No prizes for guessing what type of times it is now.

"You don't even know what the condition is though." He remarked, as I sat back down in my original seat.

"I don't care."

"Fine by me. Go back to, wherever it is you're going to stay then. I won't stop you." He calmly said, lounging back.

You crafty little son of a bitch.

"Alright, what's the condition?" I loaded on the boredom, which seemed to amuse him. It pissed me off until I was this close to putting his lights out.

"You, have to drop the attitude. That's the condition."

Attitude! I do not have an attitude problem! You have a problem, with my attitude.

"I suppose I could do that. I have a condition aswell. We both have to drop the attitude." I added.

"Ok," he shrugged, "I'll drop it if you will."

The deal was made, and I had somewhere to stay. Well, for the night at least.

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