NaNoWriMo 2011 Day 1

Adeism in a Deistic World – Tales from the Independent City State of Dis, Volume \\\: The Cost of Salt


I don’t hesitate when I step off the roof – I don’t have time.
I can already see the Angel moving in the alley below me.

So soon- Too soon.

I clutch the ledge with one foot’s toes as I step-fall forward.
My outstretched foot hits the brick and I push off; sprint-falling down the side of the building.
I can barely control my descent as I watch the Angel glide forward.
So close to the street.

No – Not yet. I need more time

I’m only half way down the building and the Angel’s at the end of the alley.
Its raising its arm.
Its pointing at Blake.

Salt.

No. I have to go faster.
I can feel my toes splinter and crack.
Faster.

Goodson – Salt.

Faster.

Albus – Salt.

Faster.

I pull my hilt off my belt.
So close.
I’m almost there – the Angel’s finger is moving.

No. Faster.
Faster.
No. Salt.
Faster.

I aim my hilt at the Angel as I hurtle down at it.
Divine fire pours out of my hilt as my body cr-


The young executive approached the scene of the attack. Kneeling over the bodies and salt, another executive blocked her view. Besides the two of them, the street was empty: the militia had cleared the area and were waiting, vigilantly, a block away in all three directions. As her boots clicked on the smooth-stone street, the other executive stood and turned to face her. He took a swig from a flask and offered it to her.

“You’re going to need it.”

The young executive cocked her eyebrow at the man as he took a step to the side. Looking back up from her among a tangle of bodyparts in a pool of salt, blood, and oil was her own broken, porcelain face.

“Salt.”


The flask clattered, hollowly, as it hit the street. Poison still shining on her lips, she gasped for breath. The other executive leaned over to collect his flask. Upon straitening up, he turned it upside down and gave it a few shakes.

“Damn. Did you have to drink-“

“Fuck you.”

The man moved his gaze from his empty flask to the female.

“Feel any better?”

“Would you?”

The man let out a soft ‘heh’ sound.

“Hell no. I’d be lucking if I didn’t shit my pants.”

A smile briefly bloomed on the young executive’s face before withering. She knelt down next to her body and scanned the scene with her eyes. Four piles of salt littered the street. Her body lay in a broken heap upon the Angel at the entrance of the alley. The oil and blood from the bodies had formed a dark pool slowly creeping towards the salt-pillars. At first, her gaze was slow, however, as the seconds passed, her eyes started to flick frantically back and forth over the street and alleyway. Swallowing hard, she reached out, trembling, toward her shattered form.

“Don’t bother. Its not there.”

“Salt. No.” She let out a nervous laugh, “No, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I’m telling you the truth. You know I wouldn’t fuck around about that. If it were here, you’d know it. You can’t miss your own damned soul.”

The young executive fell back on her ass; her back followed by the back of her head hitting the wall of the building behind her loudly. The other executive winced. Looking up at the building above her, she reached under her uniform, gripped something tightly, and let out a soft sigh.

The other executive started to say something but the young executive cut him off with a quiet ‘sh’ sound. Following her gaze upward, the man scanned the side and top of the building across the alley before looking down at the female.

In a hushed voice, the man asked, “Mind telling me why you shushed me?”

“I thought I saw something up on the roof of the building.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know. A demon. Maybe.”

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