Ｔｈｅ Ａｎｇｅｌｕｓ
Numeratio Regressiva
Morning - The Rookery, New York City
[Everyone]
Uriel was composed.
Azrael was giddy.
Number Twelve was humming.
She adjusted her habit with a bright smile on her face, smearing a faint line of red across her lips and swiping it off with her tongue. Yum! It was an important day today. She had to look her best when meeting her family again. It's been so long, and it wouldn't do for her to look dishevelled in the house of God. No, no, no. That was deserving of at least a hundred floggings! Maybe even
two hundred! But... she didn't want to ruin her new habit so soon. Blood was always so
hard to wash out. And Miss Müller was always so weird about it, too. She even threw away
flesh-render the other day. Twelve didn't understand. Did she not cleanse her sins that way, too?
People were so strange.
Twelve idly twisted a small, lumpy, pinkish ball between her fingers, humming tunelessly as her eyes searched for–
Oh! There she was.
“Good morning, Miss Müller!” she called brightly as she skipped over,
“Have you praised our Lord this morning?“The blonde handler seemed to flinch slightly, though Twelve noticed nothing, blissfully soaking in her handler's presence with a radiant smile. Miss Müller—or, Elise as most people knew her by—did not seem to return the sentiment. She stuffed her phone into her pants pocket and stepped away just slightly from the beaming teenager. The movement was involuntary, but she made no move to step back into the small nun's orbit.
“I told you not to–ugh, never mind,” Elise's shoulders slumped slightly in defeat,
“Let's just go.”“Yes, Miss Müller. May I purge the filth first?”The question gave Elise pause, and a disconcerted look briefly flashed across her features, smothered immediately by years of practised apathy. She gave the “filth” Twelve had mentioned another glance, and if she wasn't already used to the sight by now, she would have almost certainly been spilling her guts over the pavement. Fortunately, her stomach was made of sterner stuff. Unfortunately, that didn't make the scene any less
disturbing.
A...
“tree” was off to the side. Though, to call it a tree wouldn’t be quite right. It was a complete perversion of the concept of flora. A gnarled trunk seemed stretched-thin and distorted over a pulsing mass of squishy, gooey pink. Its branches stretched unnaturally long, twisted and mangled with five smaller growths at the ends, tipped with sharp, claw-like points. Twisted white structures stuck out at odd angles from its main mass. A thick, dark red liquid oozed from deep gashes in its bark, soaking the grass with its “sap”. The grass at its base seemed to flourish as it was bathed in red.
Elise tore her gaze away from the sight.
... She was definitely going to skip breakfast today.
“... Sure. I'll go ahead. Don't take long.”She could not get out of there fast enough without being obvious.
“I'll do my best!” Twelve chirped as she waved Miss Müller off. She waited until her handler was out of sight before turning back to the odd-looking tree, her bright smile still intact.
“Oh, Mister Heretic~! Have you repented yet?”The tree did not respond, of course. It was only a–
“Glurgehrbgrbhnnmrrgghh...”“Oh? What was that? You haven't?” Twelve clicked her tongue in disapproval, a pout forming on her pink lips,
“Tsk, tsk. How disappointing, Mister Heretic.”She knelt in front of the “tree” and reached into an opening in the trunk to pull out a sticky, red, leaking, pulsating mass of flesh. From a distance, it could almost be mistaken for a human heart if you squinted. At a second glance, the opening even seemed like... an... open ribcage...
“Bye bye, Mister Heretic~! You’re going to burn in hell now~”The organ in her hands stopped pulsing and went deathly still. The tree itself seemed to wither as the mass in Twelve's grasp started sloughing away like mud between her fingers, staining them red. The sun illuminated her figure as she knelt in prayer.
Ah, what a wonderful day.------- xXx -------
When Elise and Twelve arrived at the Rookery, the habit-clad girl was almost vibrating with excitement. She couldn’t see outside the vehicle, but she didn’t need to. She could feel them, every single living being that was outside. Oh, how blessed she was! There was a large group of people just outside, seemingly waiting for something, or someone? Not all of them seemed happy about it, though. Why were they there, then?
Twelve frowned slightly.
For a brief moment, her eyes
bled.
“Alright, we’re here. Let’s go.” Elise’s voice snapped Twelve out of it, and she blinked once, her eyes turning back to normal. She stood up and brushed off her dress.
“Coming, Miss Müller!”By the time Twelve hopped out of the vehicle, she had taken notice of a few signatures that were different from the others. Other Numbers had already arrived before her, not that she minded. Of course, she made sure to give her best smile to everyone she passed by; meanwhile, Elise simply kept moving without acknowledging any of them. Briefly, Twelve wondered what the others would be like. Their auras told her quite a bit without needing to talk to them, but their personalities were still a complete mystery to her.
She’d met them before, though. It was strange that she didn't know what they were like.
Hm. That was odd. Oh, well!
The hum of the scanners inside the Rookery announced Elise’s entrance, but when Twelve passed through, it was silent, and then hummed three times in quick succession. She paid it no mind, her eyes curiously sweeping over the lobby as she followed behind her handler. She waved at the armoured guards and the rest of the staff with a serene smile on her face. The reactions were far from reciprocal. Most ignored her, but several of them flinched at her actions.
Huh. Why did people always react like that?
As the rest of the Numbers and their handlers arrived, Miya kept silent, waiting nearby Dimitri. Despite her care to not show any obvious acts of affection towards her handler, the fact that she stood nearer to him than other Numbers did from their handlers was still noticeable to those who paid enough attention, even if it was something Miya herself did unconsciously.
Twelve clasped her hands together in delight as she laid eyes on the gathered numbers and handlers, particularly the clown-faced woman holding a jar with a beating, bleeding heart that Twelve
didn’t make! Not all the numbers were there yet, but that would change soon enough.
“Good morning, everyone~! What a blessed day this is for us all!”
FourtyTwo
Dane
teenangstlife
Auragreedia
Not a Sayan
Redking0380
The Jest
Neziul
Luluna
