Dean had his eye trained on the back doors of the dingy green truck, sweat forming on his sun-kissed brow in the dry summer heat. On cue from the Captain, two of the men went forward to open the doors. They were wrapped from head to toe in thick black cloth, marking them as one of the newest pairs of Initiates added to the Assembly. Dean tightened his grip on his Karynth, a foot-and-a-half-long straight, silver blade that was reserved for the Hunters of the Assembly, as the Initiates pulled at the seven locks that held the doors closed. The Initiates pulled the doors back quickly, retreating from the things inside.
Seconds passed with no movement from the truck. Then a woman shuffled to the front, where the light exposed most of her from. Her pale skin was covered with dirt and dust that had been thrown up by the truck's fast travel. She had a long burst of bright red hair, and her eyes were darting around, cautious of the group of men before her. She rolled her shoulders back as best she could, this movement being limited by the shackles around her wrists. She leapt gracefully down to the dirt road, eliciting a small puff of protest from the ground. This movement exposed her for the monster she was, bringing to light a pair of white-blonde wings that protruded from the space between her shoulder blades, restricted by a band that connected to her waist and shackles.
Dean's brow furrowed, his upper lip crawling ever so slowly toward his nose. A Guardsman, garbed in the traditional golden cotton shirt and dark blue leather pants, grabbed her by the elbow and led her toward the cell block. Dean spit at the creature's feet as they passed to his right, and she fixed her hate-filled gaze on him for a long moment before returning her gaze toward their destination. There was a louder noise of boots landing on dirt, a small chorus of gasps and whispers, and the sound of dust settling back onto the ground. Dean turned to see what could possibly surprise the assembly, and felt a shock that caused his eyebrows to rise and his mouth to pop open.
Standing in front of the truck was another creature. It was male, also with pale skin and shackles. He stood regally, head facing forward, shoulders back, and jaw set. He wore no shirt, as most male Angels, sporting only black lined pants and black combat boots. His hair was a ruffled mess, jet black, and shining underneath the light of the sun. His eyes were large, glassy orbs, piercing blue as bright as the glimmering waters of an oasis, and staring straight at Dean. Behind him, sprouting from his shoulder blades, were a set of wings that matched, and surpassed, the depth of color that his hair possessed. The feathers were glossy, and rimmed by the thinnest line of silver. It appeared he was trying to stretch them, for even restrained they were large enough to strike fear into the hearts of lesser men.
Luckily for Dean, he was no lesser man. He strode purposefully toward the thing when the other Guardsman faltered. Dean didn't blame the man; such an Angel had never been seen before, with wings blacker than the night sky. It didn't help that this one seemed to radiate a calm, deadly power. Again tightening the grip on his Karynth, he grabbed the black-winged creature roughly, just above the elbow, and started dragging him after the other Guardsman. On the way to the cell block, they past two sets of barracks, one on each side of the road, a mess hall, and an armory. It took several minutes to pass these buildings, and the black-winged creature stared at Dean the entire way. Only after they were nearing the block did it occur to him that he was marginally taller than the Angel. He assumed otherwise, as the Angel had kept pace with him easily. A pair of Initiates and a pair of Guardsmen stood at attention at the double-door entrance to the limestone building. The Initiates opened the doors to the block, granting the Hunter and his captive entrance.
The block consisted of ten-by-five-foot cells on each side, with a ten-foot wide hall between them, running down the length of the building. Each cell was separated by a limestone wall to discourage communication between the captives. Five cells lined each wall, each of them currently empty. The Hunter continued moving past each cell toward the Warden's office.
"It appears there are numerous empty holding spaces. Why do you continue to lead me when you could deposit me in any one of these?" an incredibly low, gravelly voice came from the black-winged Angel, causing Dean to jump and falter only slightly before casting a glance at the creature. It was still staring at him, emotionless and unblinking.
Dean cleared his throat before answering, "Gotta get you filed with the Warden first. Make sure we can keep track of you."
"You are just going to kill me. I do not see the need to keep track of me after my execution," the response was matter-of-fact, and as emotionless as the face that spoke the words.
Dean cast another glance at him, lips thinning into a line and eyes narrowing, "We don't always kill you." This got just a flicker of emotion from the Angel, eyebrows raising just a fraction of an inch. They reached the door at the end of the building, black lettering labeling the office, "Warden." Dean stopped, but pushed the angel toward the wooden bench next to the door. "Sit. We have to wait for your Angel friend before we can go in," his gruff voice was laced with venom over the word "friend."
Again, the angel was stoic as he replied. "She is my sister," he said in his gravel-filled voice as his head cocked ever so slightly to the side.
At this, Dean noticed that his eyebrows rose yet again. "Yeah, well…whatever you want to call her. Just...stop talking." He was continually watching the Angels movements. Dean found himself thinking the motto of the Assembly; A free Angel is a dangerous Angel. And this Angel had enough mobility to be considered free, even though he was restrained. He adjusted the grip on his Karynth out of habit.
The black-winged Angel looked over to the nearest cell, and spent several minutes contemplating the furnishings inside. The cells were equipped with a bed, toilet, and sink. They may be monsters, but the Assembly was a fairly civil place. He looked over the dingy toilet, then to the short, grey sink, finally settling on staring at the hay-filled mattress. The door opened suddenly, swinging inward. Dean kept his eyes on the creature, which turned suddenly to stare right back at him. The Guardsman still led the female, whose wrist shackles had been removed, and took her to the first cell on their left. Upon shoving her through the barred door and locking it behind her, he nodded curtly to the Hunter and left. The red-haired angel glared daggers into the Guardsman's back as he walked.
A gruff voice called through the open door, "Well are you gonna stand there all day, or are you bring him in, ya idjit?"