BloodieAngel

Part # 1

Serina slowly flowed off the bed and stretched. Smiling she looked down at her lover still asleep in bed. She reached over to the silken robe on the chair of the vanity and pulled it over her naked body. The white of the silk contrasting nicely against the duskiness of her skin.

Slowly and silently she walked across the warm room to the open window. Pushing the billowing draperies aside she looked out over the bright flickering lights of the night swept city. Serina knew that her enemy was out there. She knew that the godforsaken girl had followed her. "Well," Serina thought, "not exactly godforsaken."

A slight movement behind her told her that Qrell was awake. A deep voice crept to Serina's ears. "Rina lover, come back to bed..." Qrell sat up, the satin sheets sliding down his cut body. Rina closed the window and turned back to face Qrell. Looking at him made her think less of her enemy and more about what she could do to bring pleasure into her life for the time being.

Qrell looked past her to the night sky beyond and then smiling looked back at Rina. Outside the closed window a black shape against the darkness could be seen jumping the wall to Rina's home, then melting back into the darkness like it had never been. Rina grabed the drapes without looking back out the window and closed them before she started to walk back across the room to her giant bed.

Qrell saw a dark shape jump up onto the slight windowsill outside. Getting up Qrell started to slowly walk to the bathroom looking back at Rina before he turned the corner, he saw that Rina followed with lust filled eyes. Before Rina turned the corner she could hear the rush of water being turned on for them to take a shower.

The dark shape on the windowsill waited while Qrell led the target away. When Rina stepped into the bathroom the dark shape knew that Qrell would keep her in there for at least an hour or two. The person flicked the small computer screen over it's right eye to check on the mission description for the hundredth time. Flashing a white smile the person clicked the screen back away from it's eye.

Killing the target wasn't the only objective. Rina was to make the newspapers with her death, and the slender black velvet box was to be retrieved. The dark shape against the window pulled open the window and stealthily dropped into the room. Black-blue hair flowed behind the dark person that was dressed in the traditional styled Japanese clothes, but it was of black vinyl that contrasted it's light colored skin.

The sounds of lovemaking could be heard coming from the bathroom. The silent stalking person looked up and her gray eyes flashed. As she slowly stood up she pulled out her wakasashi and silently strode toward the bathroom. The blade was black as midnight and sent a chill breeze through the room. When she got to the corner of the room she waited until the sound of lovemaking stopped.

The splashing of water in the room told her that they were both still in the shower. She held still and listened attentively. A loud sliding noise came from the bathroom and she heard someone get out, then Qrell's voice. "Rina, where ya going?"

"I'm just getting dried off. Hey Qrell do you feel that? It's cold, no, it's freezing. I didn't leave the window open. I'm going to go check." Rina's voice sounded confused. Apparently she didn't know that headquarters had changed who was to come for her.

The darkness raised it's blade and waited as Rina slipped out the door of the bathroom and then came around the corner. Rina had no chance to cry out, she saw the blackness and then that was all she remembered. When she came to she was tied to a bar that had been fastened to the ceiling above her bed. "Qrell?" Rina's voice sounded far away from herself, like a small child across the room. She listened for a reply and heard the shower stop running.

Qrell's voice came from the bathroom and sounded surprised. "Angel? You haven't finished yet?" That is when Rina saw the darkness separate from the wall next to the hallway. It took a moment for Rina's brain to register that the darkness was a person. Then fear set in. Qrell again spoke. "Serina, you never should have turned your back on Grace."

"But you are not the one that I thought..." Rina's voice trailed off as she realized that the women in front of her wasn't the same one she had thought would come. The women smiled a dazzling smile that made her seem even more beautiful then she was. Rina was almost fooled into a smile herself, then she noticed the blade that generated the cold breeze, and that cold penetrated her to her soul. That fierce cold she knew would burn. She knew that it was time to face God.

Part # 2


“Ma‘am.” The officer nodded to the detective and lifted the yellow tape up for the women to get past. “It’s bad in there.” The detective nodded and braced herself. Walking into the bedroom of the mountainside home. It was stripped down to the whitewalls. Nothing but the victim and blood everywhere. The stench penetrated the detective to her soul, her first reaction was to gag, holding back the bile.

Glancing over she saw an officer puking out the window. Taking a second look over the room she saw different body parts strewn around like party decorations. The body or what was left of it was tied to a support bar that was hooked up into the ceiling. “Do we know if this is the owner of the house?” The detective’s voice faltered. She withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket, it was scented strongly with lemon, she covered her mouth and nose with it.

The coroner nodded. “Yes, a Serina Areche Smith.” The man said shaking his head. “Most of the limbs can be found, but the major organs cannot. I sure hope that this is not going to turn into a regular occurrence.”
The detective sincerely hoped that this was a one in a lifetime occurrence.

She walked over to Rafe, the crime scene investigator in charge of this scene. “Rafe, how long until you get things straightened out?” She asked grimacing. Rafe turned to look at her, his normally blue eyes a shade of dark gray.

“Get what straightened out Detective? There is nothing here, the victims body was cut into pieces by a sharp object that was perhaps the length of a katana. That is all that is here. We have been searching for anything else for three hours.” His short blonde hair was damp, which made it curl somewhat.


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Detective Arellia Kingston sat in her vehicle closing her eyes to block out the disgusting scene of the gruesome murder of Serina Smith. It didn’t work, her mind kept going back to it over and over again. No leads, and it didn’t look like there would be any. It was as if the murderer enjoyed what they had done, wanted to be famous for it. No matter, there would be plenty of false confessions to go through as soon as word got out. Who knew, maybe one of those would turn into a lead.


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“Who the fuck leaked this to the press?” Detective Kingston sat down on the edge of her desk. Her partner James paced back and forth as he fumed. His brow wrinkled and his temper raised.

“James,” Arellia grimaced. “James stop pacing. We knew this would happen sooner or later, whoever did it, it doesn’t matter. We need to do damage control.” James stopped and looked at his partner with a half smile on his face.

“I’ll go, I’m better with people then you are Arellia. Just find something soon or we will all look foolish.” Without waiting for her to say anything James walked away, throwing the newspaper down on his desk. The swish of his dress pants even sounding angry. Arellia glanced at the headline once more. Cannibal Murderer on the loose in city!


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“Well, we didn’t eat any part of her actually.” Qrell’s voice showed his amusement. He looked over at the silhouette of the woman beside him. Somehow the street lamps light seemed to run from her instead of illuminating her. “Angel?”

“Muse?” Was the silky smooth reply. She didn’t sound happy, she didn’t sound regretful. She just sounded nonchalant. Her slim form seeming to flow through the darkness. The light catching her right eye, making it gleam red.

“Well, you have the newspapers, what of the box?” A melodious laughter answered Qrell’s question. “So you have the box...did the One tell you not to look? I mean...I didn’t get to know what it was she took in the first place.” The laughter stopped, as did Qrell.

One foot hanging three inches from the ground, his upper body leaning as far back as it could go without him breaking in half. Only a fist in the bangs of his hair held him. “You are a good muse, know that reason is what has kept you alive this night.” The shadow held him there for a second longer, letting Qrell feel the chill of the blade at his throat.

As she removed the blade and let go of his hair he fell over onto his ass. “And I thought all angel’s where suppose to love us. What’s your beef?” He grumbled as he got up off the concrete. Looking around the empty street, he wiped the back of his coat off. Silence was his reply, when he turned back to look at her, she was not there.

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In all truth she did not have the box, though now she had the time she would be able to find it. Looking around she grinned, what better place to work her trick then a graveyard? There was one less then a block away. She made her way there quietly and quickly.

The six foot tan stone wall of the graveyard had vines growing up it. She paid no attention to the sign saying it was closed for the night and just jumped up to the top of the wall and over. There was a night watchman, but he would not see her, nor hear her, nor notice her or what she was doing at all.

As her feet touched the holy ground an electric charge raced through the air, making it smell of earth, rain, and slightly of ozone. Whispers echoed in her ears, whispers that no one else could hear. Prayers of the dying. She smiled as she meandered through the gravesites, following a path that was laid down long ago by the first priest to bless the graveyard.

She could feel it as the rain began to tumble from the grey sky, she was reaching the middle of the holy ground. Humming a hymn she put a bit of bounce in her step and was there at last. A fountain was in the middle, a grave faced stone angel centered there with moss growing up the hem of its robe and water leaked from its eyes, down its cheeks, chin and onto the chest. Where the water leaked was a trail of moss as well lending to the illusion that the tears were black.

She jumped up onto the edge of the fountain. Walking its perimeter then stepping off, onto the top of the water. She faced the stone angel and walked right up to it, stopping face to face with it she smiled.

"In the name of God almighty I call thee to me Serina Areche, Fallen, Corrupted, Morning Stars footman. In the name of our Father and Mother, the very essence of our beings I call thee to me."

As she spoke a cold wave of energy rose from her skin, a light blueish tinge tainted the air directly around her. A wind seemed to come from within her and flow outward. The rain which a moment ago had fallen around her became little shards of ice. Her dark eyes began to glow a fierce, cold blue. She stretched her arms out to either side of herself and finished her words at the same time she brought her right hand to the stone angels face and pulled forward.

Stepping back she pulled Serina to her, from the stone image of the angel. It was Serina, but it was only a shade of her. She appeared foggy, transparent, but for a leash of fierce cold blue energy that went from a collar around her neck to her enemy's hand. Serina's own hands were bound together with the same blue energy.

Though she was a little different then when she had lived. Now she had scales, a sickly green shade, coming up in patches on her body. She had spines coming out of her back, the remains of her wings, broken now and mutated into tattered bat like membraines. She had a snarl on her face, then it was gone. Her appearance changed from the fallen to what she had been.

Serina stood before her enemy in white robes. Her long silky brown hair cascaded down her back and over her chest, framing her face and her hands which where palm together as if she prayed. Instead of broken bat wings she had huge swan like wings of a dusky color somewhere between the dark of her hair and her dusky tan skin.

"I have come as you have called in It's name." Serina almost hissed.

Her enemy merely smiled. "You know what it is that I can do to you. Would you like another taste or would you like to tell me what I want to know?"

"I am not frightened of you. You can do nothing more to me but cause me pain." Serina slowly smiled a sad little smile. "And for that I am all to prepared to own."

"No Serina. I was made for different things." Pulling out her wakasashi slowly, inch by inch. "Micheal is His Divine Righteous Anger. I am Her Cold Sorrowfilled Death." With that she brought the blade to Serina's throat and cut a shallow thin line from ear to ear. Serina stood for a moment, defiance in her eyes. Then panic filled them and she began to shake her head. Her enemy stepped back just as Serina began to scream, tears rolled down her face. She would have hugged herself had her hands not been bound.

"No, no, no...." Serina's voice was barely a whisper. "I didn't know. Please..." She dropped down to her knees. "Please don't forget me, don't turn from me, please...no..." She began sobbing so hard she couldn't talk. Her enemy stood looking down at her. No expression on her face.

"I didn't know what I was doing. Please God love me." Serina's sobs ebbed and she composed herself enough to look up, through her hair at her enemy. "A son of Adam already has the box. But the prize is not within. Within is a riddle that will tell you were to look."

Serina climbed slowly back to her feet. A sneer now on her face. "And where is the son of Adam that you speak of?" Asked her enemy. Serina almost denied knowing, but the memory of complete loss came back unbidden to her. With tears in her eyes she replied.

Part # 3

The last of the sun's light faded away from the city. The lights coming on in all the buildings made the stars almost disappear. The rave at the warehouse in the middle of the slums was far from any who would think to call the cops. Hundreds of people gathered to have fun, or to forget their lives for just a night.

Detective Arellia pulled up in her old beat up pontiac in her civilian clothes and got out watching a small crowd in club clothes walk over to the warehouse doors and go inside. An anonimous phone call from a male had told her to come here for answers to the cannibal case, so here she was.

She grimaced at the loud, wild music she could hear from outside and walked toward the building. She kept a sharp eye out for the informant. He was suppose to be wearing black pants, a see through net tank top and have a tattoo of a demon on his chest. She saw him no where outside, which was fine as he said he'd meet her near the speakers on the right side of the warehouse.

She thought about putting in ear plugs but decided against it. Grinding her teeth she went inside. Wall to wall people, barely room to move unless you moved with the crowd. She shook her head, hating to be touched she walked into the sea of living flesh and tried to go toward the right.


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Vual hissed as the scent of rain and ozone caught his attention, the Angel known as BloodieAngel must be here. He bent at the waist in order to get a better sense of were the smell trailed to. Before he got far the scent of lemon over powered it. The person trying to get around him had a strong smell of lemon on them. He snarled as he came back up.

His temper made his form falter slightly, his skin seeming to melt and bubble back off his face to show a hideous bony face, with no nose, huge insect eyes, and skin that looked like oily pitch more than skin. His jaw was distorted, jutting out from his face like an animal, no lips, huge razor sharp teeth opened and a long sickly yellow forked tongue dripping with blood red saliva snaked out.

The woman in front of him stared with wide eyes at him. But he didn't see terror, and that made him even more mad. The woman's hand started going toward a pocket and then the lights flashed brightly. He took that one moment to move as a black, cold blade swiped at him from the left.


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The detective had gotten most of the way to the speaker on the right when some idiot bent down in front of her. She hoped to God that he wasn't going to puke all over her boots. He made a sick noise like flesh tearing as he came back up sharply. She turned to look over at the speaker but a sick smell made her look back.

She gagged on the smell of sulpher and through the tears in her eyes she saw a demented sight. Before her stood a grotesque monster. Her eyes went wide at the sight. The flesh seemed to have bubbled back from his face showing pitch black beneath. His eyes were huge and looked like a fly's. His misformed jaw jutted out, full of sharp pointy teeth. He no longer had a nose. Then his teeth parted and a sickly yellow forked tongue came out a good five inches from his mouth, covered in what appeared to be blood.

The detective automatically reached for her gun. Just as her fingers brushed the cool metal the lights in the warehouse flashed brightly. The detective closed her eyes against the bright light. As her eyes closed she felt feathers brush her face. With the feathers came the scent of rain, washing away the sickening sulpher. A calmness seemed to seep into her, her gun hand slacked and fell back down to her side.

When she opened her eyes again the monster was no longer in front of her. She looked around wildly, and a short distance from her a guy wearing an insect halloween mask danced about as if he were having a seizure, with a woman wearing a bright pink feather boa. Shaking her head the detective continued toward the speaker on the right.


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Smiling a real smile for the first time that night BloodieAngel waded through the crowd. A scent had caught her attention. Sulpher, and a distinct rotting flower smell. Vual must be here. A fallen that she had delt with before. She watched the crowd until a sense of rage crashed into her from the right.

Turning, the crowd began to move in slow motion but for three others. A man with a net tanktop by the speakers fidgeting with the strape of a backpack. A woman with the smell of lemon and gunpowder on her, and Vual. Noting the man by the speakers BloodieAngel turned her attention on Vual, who was loosing his human form as the lemon smelling woman watched.

With a sigh BloodieAngel pulled her katana and was beside Vual in less than a heart beat. BA flexed her shoulders and her soft downy black wings swept out to either side of her, the lights in the warehouse flashed bright as she did so. Her right wing tip brushed the womans face, and the woman stopped moving. She swung at Vual and he retreated quickly, running away through the crowd.

BA took another moment as everything was still and looked at the woman, she had a smile on her face, but there were worry lines around her eyes still. This woman had obviously lived a hard life. BA left the woman and went to the speaker over on the right side of the warehouse were the guy in the net tanktop was standing.

As she stopped next to him everyone came back to full motion. The man looked up and almost jumped a foot in the air. "Damn woman where the fuck did you come from?" His voice sounded nervous.

BA looked him up and down. He was a normal person, what had made him move normally while everyone else was in slow motion? Then she heard it. The faint echo of a choir singing came from his backpack. He was the human who had the box.

"You have something I want. You should give it to me now, and ask for forgiveness. You may not be harmed if you do this now." Her voice was smooth as silk and low, but he heard her clearly even though he stood next to the blaring speakers.

He looked at her again. Her blue black hair was worn straight and very long. She wore a vinyl black bodysuit and a black duster. Her milky white skin shown with health and her smile was brilliant. She was one of the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. Then the realization sunk in.

He stood next to the woman who must have taken out Serina, and now she was here, with him. His knees went weak and he almost lost control of his bladder. This woman was going to kill him! No, she had said to give her what he had, and say he was sorry...

His knees gave out and he fell to the ground before her. "I...I am so sorry. Please, take it." He swung the backpack off his shoulder and shoved it into her waiting hands. "I'm sorry, sorry, sorry." He no longer looked at her but at the floor. A wave of guilt swept over him and he started to cry. One tear than two sliding down his cheeks.

The woman reached out a hand and touched his chin, pulling his face up so he looked at her. "Do not fear mortal. You have been heard. You are to leave this place and never mettle with our affairs again. Go." Her eyes took on a blue glow as she spoke and a wind came from nowhere. The smell of rain and ozone was all around them. The man stood up quickly, and turned and ran away from her. She swung the backpack onto her shoulder and went after him toward the door.

He ran full tilt into somebody, and hurried to regain his feet, helping the other person up with a hand and saying sorry he quickly turned back toward the door. The woman he ran into swore a very colorful oath and grabbed at him. BA walked around them as they fumbled. The woman looked at BA for a moment, it was the lemon smelling woman, then the woman focused her full attention back on the male.

BA ignored them both and walked to the door. There she was met by Qrell. He leaned one elbow against the wall, the hand smoothing back his hair. He wore a tight white muscle shirt that showed everything it was suppose to cover, and baggy white jeans with pockets everywhere, and zippers as well.

"Angel, you have everything you came for?"

BA nodded and walked past him out the door. Qrell straightened up and glanced back at a pack of females eyeing him. He gave them a sexy smile and a wink then followed her out. The girls all sighed and giggled.

Arellia grabbed the man who had flown into her before he could run away. She turned him around to face her as he apologized. Then she noticed a strange woman walking by. The woman seemed to flow gracefully by, gliding more than walking. Only one thing wasn't right, but she couldn't place it and the woman walked away over to the door.