Chapter 7: Abyssal Message

When I exited the apartment complex, the crisp night air greeted me. I took in a deep breath, just enjoying it. The moments after a successful hunt always filled me with lethargic satisfaction. Tonight I felt particularly satisfied, but I chalked that up to my hunting rhythm being thrown out of whack. A flashing image of Zophie appeared in my mind, but I shook the thought away quickly. I definitely let myself get way too hungry.

I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets, slouching slightly as I let myself relax. The walk back to my apartment would take a while from here, but I didn’t mind. A few mortals might see some strangely quick-moving shadows, but they’d forget about it soon enough. Now I could finally get some sleep.

Just before I could shift into darkness, a flicker of something caught my eye. I almost wanted to wave it off as a trick of the light or a bird or something. But something tugged within me, forcing me not to dismiss it.

As I walked down the stairs from the apartment complex, I made an extra effort to scan my surroundings for possible threats. This part of the city was right next to my usual hunting grounds, so I felt secure that no other immortals would bother me here. Maybe someone was scouting the local turf owner, but even that seemed unlikely to me.

I didn’t have to stay guessing for long. Halfway through the parking lot, a small, black and red imp casually walked out from behind a car, its claws clicking on the asphalt. Its beady red eyes with black slits blinked at me, a disgusting second, nictating eyelid dragging goop across its own eye. And along with it came the foul smell of sulfur.

It whisper-hissed at me, the crawling thing barely standing upright. “Me come with greeting, I do.”

“Get the hell out of my territory, trash.”

The imp’s smile only grew wider, sharp triangle teeth bared. “Me leave later, I will. Michael sends me, he does. Wishes to learn of your activities of late, he says.” The vile thing wrung its hands together, looking like a slimy scammer. “Me see you be very strange, I has. Go out of way to kill ugly human, even though many other humans have sins, why do?”

The mention of Michael sent a chill through the air, but the imp didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe it did, but it just felt confident enough not to acknowledge it.

“Tell Michael he’s welcome to drop by my apartment— Tomorrow,” I stressed, baring my own thinly veiled aggression. “Tomorrow,” I repeated, “because I’m tired tonight and going straight to sleep.”

I hated imps; on their own, they barely had enough intelligence to steal, but usually, someone took them as servants. Michael knew I hated these buggers, but he’d sent one to me anyway. The thought left me equally parts annoyed and disturbed. Michael was one of the few other immortals on this spiraling rock who wasn’t a complete pushover. He wouldn’t invade my territory like this, with this particular brand of disgusting imp, unless he wanted to purposefully get on my nerves. And that bothered me.

“Get out of my sight before I remove you.”

The threat only seemed to make the imp smile larger. “Oh, Michael would not like that, he wouldn’t. Me will go now, I will, but with parting message: immortals are above humanity, Michael reminds, he does. Now me go, I do.”

Watching it scamper off filled me with vile disgust but also relief. Michael didn’t have to remind me about anything; I knew mortals better than anyone. Michael and I’d always gotten along. He’d been here longer than me and showed me the ropes when I descended. We’d shared tea and traded stories of mortal folly— hell, I’d even called him a friend. So why this provocation now?

My earlier mood had been thoroughly ruined, all that satisfaction draining away from me due to the pit of dread in my stomach. It’d be so annoying patching things up with Michael later. In any case, he’d have to wait. I had to get Zophie out of my apartment in the morning, and before that, I needed to sleep like the dead for at least twelve hours. Maybe longer if I felt like it.

My thoughts became singularly directed— one focus in mind. Sleep. Literally the only thing I could think of was sleep. In a fugue, my footsteps drove me forward, the shadows carrying me faster than a mortal automobile. I craved sleep so much that my vision narrowed until the only thing I could see was forward. My mind drifted between places, barely noticing the roads passing me by.

When I finally arrived home, I was quick to phase through the door, not bothering with the mechanics of it. The physical lock itself would deter most immortals by itself, most of them not being stronger than the typical man. For the more supernaturally inclined, my mere presence would block demons out of my domain entirely, and the rest weren’t malicious enough to have to worry about while I was home.

With that not being a concern for the night, I marched my way to my bedroom. On the way through the main living space, I caught Zophie’s eye. She wasn’t asleep, instead leaning over the back of the couch.

“Is everything okay?” she whispered unnecessarily— as though to keep some non-existent person from waking up.

“Just fine,” I spoke at normal volume, which then prompted her to do the same.

“Oh, good.” She let out what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Let me know if you need anything?”

I snorted. “You’re the guest.” If there was one thing immortals were good at, it was respecting guest rights. “You should be letting me know if you need anything. I’m going to bed.” I ended the conversation, already imagining how nice it would be to wrap myself in the blankets, infuse the room with darkness, and sleep until noon.

As I opened the door to my room, I turned my head back, remembering to inform Zophie. “You should be good to go home tomorrow. Sorted things out with the landlady. The heat’ll be back on.”

Not wanting to converse any further, I slipped into my room, shut the door, quickly shed my mortal clothing, and then slunk into bed.

That night, for the first time in an eon, I dreamed a half-remembered dream, long buried. A fellow archangel stood to my side, the only female of the lot. Her wings shone bright silver, her face seeming gentle, but I couldn’t make out the details due to her blinding aura. I couldn’t remember what her name had been or when she’d left.

The moment passed until I was alone. When I glanced backward, my wings rapidly self-corrupted into black, shadowy tendrils, heaven around me beginning to darken. Something cast me out, an unrelenting force, and I began to fall.

I woke up, my chest tight and breathing heavy. I rolled over in my mortal bed, the dream lingering in fragments of silver wings and darkening shadows.

***

Something bright flashed against my eyelids, forcing me to turn the other way.

“Asmo, it’s daytime!” said a far too chipper for this early in the morning voice.

In response, I nearly flared my shadows across the room, but I caught myself just in time. Even groggy and just awake, I knew not to mess with my powers in front of Zophie. She didn’t seem as ignorant to them as most other mortals.

“I’m sleeping till noon. Shut the dang blinds.” I hadn’t necessarily intended to curse at Zophie, but it just slipped out. I blamed my dream of heaven from earlier.

“I made more omelets! This time, you will eat one. It’s pretty good, I promise.”

I could still feel a marrow-deep ache, a tiredness that seeped into my immortal soul. “I ate before bed.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why we call it ‘breakfast’— because it’s for breaking your night fast!”

Zophie didn’t need to lecture me on etymology. I’d been there for half of it.

“Whatever. Didn’t you hear me last night? You can go home already.” I pulled the covers up past my face. Reflecting on what I’d just said, something bothered me about the way I’d said that, but I ignored it in favor of forcing my eyes shut. Besides, she needed to go before I had any more guests.

“You don’t mean that,” Zophie said gently.

An unfamiliar tenseness suffocated me, urging me to say something. I… probably could have phrased that better. “Yeah, my bad.” My voice came out half muffled by blankets.

I could practically hear Zophie’s smile. “That’s okay. Look, I made food, and I’m not gonna just leave without eating any of it! Will you please come eat with me?” she sounded so darned earnest. Why was she so fascinated by me? I didn’t mind her, exactly, but I’d never woken up and thought I needed a mortal pestering me either. But, at the very least, she was fascinating, with all the way her emotions always ran at full blast. I’d had… fun, observing her yesterday.

“Yeah, fine. But I’m going back to bed after.” I moved the blankets off my face again but didn’t expose myself to the cold air just yet.

“Okay,” Zophie agreed easily. Then, as if she were just reporting something as ordinary as the weather, she dropped another piece of news. “Oh, and your friend Mike’s here to see you! I made him an omelet too, since he said he’d love to try one. You should learn from him a bit, you know? He’s really nice and polite.”