Fallen angel
An OMG fan fiction by Macloud
Marla, Hild and OMG c 2003 Kosuke Fujishima, no challenge to copy write intended in the production of this fan fiction
Part 1
Note: the story takes place after the events of the "Queen Sayoko" story arc
The woman had been running through the deserted night of the city for what felt like an eternity, the rain reducing the streets ahead into a blur of grays and blacks. She didn't care that her clothes were torn, or that without a coat the rain drenched her from head to foot, or that only willpower and adrenalin were keeping her from collapsing to the pavement.
She only knew that she had to run - nothing else mattered.
Suddenly her foot slipped and she fell hard, cursing as she felt intense pain shoot through her ankle when she tried to get back up. She looked around, seeking any sign of her pursuer, the glow of the neon lights illuminating the city streets with a sterile white glow. At first there was nothing, just the sound of the rain and occasionally the sound of a car far off in the distance.
Then she heard it - the sound of someone - or something - advancing towards the street she was on, heading towards her, their pace slow, almost leisurely.
She willed herself, despite the pain from her ankle, to get up and keep going somewhere, anywhere - but where? Scanning the street she saw it - an alley way - its interior covered by shadows - if she could just make it there, she could hide and maybe, just maybe, survive.
The sound was almost at the corner, she had to hurry, and so she limped along the street, using the sides of the buildings as support until, just as a shadowy figure turned the corner, she made it to the side street and, collapsed behind a dumpster, her body finally unable to move, she waited, her body shaking from exhaustion and the rain sticking her hair to her face in a wet mass.
From her position she could hear the sound of footsteps come closer...closer...closer...and then stop in front of the street. She couldn't see the figure and she didn't care, she simply sat there, crying quietly to herself and praying to herself ohgoddontletmedieohgoddodntletmedieohgoddontletmedie...
The figure stood there for what seemed to her forever, and then, with a scrape of a shoe, started to walk away, the footsteps fading away until finally they disappeared into the noise of the rain.
The girl let her head lean against the dumpster's side and cried, her tears rolling down her cheeks mixing with the raindrops.
Suddenly she heard a can being stepped on by something behind her. With terror etched on her face she slowly, slowly turned her head, her body shaking with apprehension...
A large hand grabbed her by her throat and, single-handedly lifted her off the ground and easily held her in mid-air a full two feet off the ground. She tried to frantically kick, punch, scream - anything- at the large shadowed figure, but the figure's grip on her throat prevented her from screaming and her kicking and punching seemed to not even phase it. The figure tilted its head curiously at her abortive attempts at escaping and, without effort, squeezed.
There was a snap, the woman's body convulsed once, and then was still. The larger figure dropped her, her body slumping to the ground like a damp rag, and stepped back, seemingly appraising what had happened.
Then slowly, almost tenderly, the figure went over to her and tentatively touched the woman, slowly pushing back her hair to see her now dead face, her eyes though wide open showing no sign of any spark of life.
The larger figure turned towards the street to see a figure - the same one that the now dead woman had seen earlier - looking towards it. The figure, the light from the streetlamp revealing it to be female, advanced towards the other figure.
"What happened" she said, her words spoken with a barely concealed edge.
The large figure looked from her to the body "she. Irritated me" it spoke with a male voice, cold and devoid of emotion.
The female figure, now up close to him, stared up at him." do you know how long it took to find her?"
"We will find another" the man spoke in a dismissive manner.
"Not like her, not this close..."
In one step the male figure stood in front of her, easily towering over her, his eyes boring into her own.
"We - will find - another" he said, his voice, though seemingly emotionless, hinting the potential that he could unleash if questioned. The woman stepped back, the rage that was once set there replaced with unmistakable fear.
They stood there for what seemed an eternity until the man turned and walked towards a shadow covered dead end, the woman following tentatively behind him. Stopping just before the shadows, the man placed his hand out towards the shadows and muttered to himself, the words lost to the sound of the rain. Suddenly, as if by command the shadows darkened, expanded and enveloped them both, before returning to their original shape, leaving nothing but a dead end and mere shadows once more.
And all the while the woman watched, her eyes long since incapable of comprehending the events that had transpired before her.
But then again, maybe she was lucky...
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Marla looked out through the glass elevator over Demon central as she ascended ever upwards.
There was never any point; she was always greeted by the same view - a dark, cloudy sky, and the infinite, metallic city below, its spires climbing ever higher, the light from the fires around them seeming to drench them in blood.
Marla sighed and leaned back against the window and faced the door. A repetitive, annoying tune - someone's sick sense of humor - piped into the room.
Less than half an hour ago Marla was in bed, enjoying the beginning of a very long and, in her opinion well earned holiday
Yes, thought Marla, Belldandy's finally back in the heavens, I've been allowed back home, AND I finally get some R&R – bliss!
She wriggled deeper under he covers, purring in delight as the smoothness of the silk sheets touched her skin.
Nothing could spoil this perfect moment – nothing…..
And that was when the red enveloped message arrived.
A message that could have only come from a member of the high council.
And that could mean only one person...
Within 15 minutes she had dressed, grabbed a cold piece of toast and dashed out of her apartment to get to head office.
The elevator stopped with an audible "PING", and the doors slid open into a seemingly endless corridor. Along it were blank office doors, each the same except for a nameplate on the window. Marla yawned, the mind and body still not yet fully awakened.
"Sometimes" though Marla to her, as she started along the corridor, "I wonder if bell dandy and her sisters had got such a bad deal being exiled up there..."
"If you like it up there so much" said a smooth, honeyed voice "I could always arrange it, although...I can't guarantee what form you'll take when you get there"
My lady", Marla spoke out loud in shock before realizing that the voice emanated from within her mind "my lady Hild, I was merely..."
"Oh no matter" the voice of Hild said in a dismissive matter" I want you to report to my office promptly - I have some business that needs dealing with...discreetly"
"As you will my lady" replied Marla formally "stupid stuck up ..."
"I'm still here you know" said Hild.
Marla jumped out of her skin a she heard Hild's voice vanishes, chuckling to herself.
To say that Hild's office was opulent would be like saying that the Titanic was "a tad waterlogged".
The vast, cathedral - like room was an example of decadence, with gold and silver statues and ornaments bedecking the walls.
And in the centre, surrounded by a moat of liquid gold, sat Hild upon a gold guided seat that was raised well above the ground by two scantily clad well muscled men, who seemed to show no discomfort at the weight they bore.
Marla walked along the red carpet that led towards the seat and kneeled before Hild, showing the traditional form of address for a superior "you summoned me my lady Hild, queen of the underworld, oh..."
Hild, her head resting on a hand that in turn rested on one of the chair arms, waved her other hand dismissively "yes yes I know - now sweetie, can we get down to business I do have other things to do - people to see, places to go, souls to torment - you know, the usual."
Marla, taking the hint to be quiet, duly remained so - despite Hild's otherwise calm, polite persona she'd heard tales of what happened to people who'd...displeased her.
"Now" said Hild "a prisoner has escaped from detention, and I require you to ...recapture them".
"A prisoner?" enquired Marla "surely the usual security can handle that sort of thing"
Hild held her hand up "yes, yes, I am aware of that" she said, her irritation briefly showing through her otherwise calm demeanor" however, there are some...unique problems that require this job to be done ...outside the normal channels"
At this Mara got worried - what prisoner would merit not involving demon central, and why keep it quiet?
"But not to worry, I have made some...arrangements".
"Arrangements?"
"Yes, I'm sending you to meet someone with...experience with this sort of situation".
"And he'll help us?"
"Oh, definitely, in fact I'm sure of it..."
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Dion's at first glance looked like one of the many run of the mill bars in the less well off end of Birmingham, its side street entrance illuminated by the glow of the bar's neon sign, which illuminated the solitary entrance, the muffled sound of music emanating from behind it.
Inside the bar was large, with booths lining one wall and a long, single bar table stretching the length of the opposite wall. Despite the hour of the night the bar was barely a Quarter full - a dozen roughly dressed men lounged around a pool table, some people in booths, theirs faces hidden by shadows, and two men sitting at the bar quietly nursing their drinks.
The door opened and in entered Marla, dressed in tight fitting leather trousers and jacket and a pair of thick soled boots. She scanned the bar, and in turn was looked at by the inhabitants, their faces revealing their thoughts that Marla didn't need empathy to determine.
Failing to see her target she walked up to the bar and called over the barman. The barman, a short olive skinned man who looked to be in his thirties, with coal black hair and a medium build, walked over to her." Can I help you?" he said with a noticeable Grecian accent.
"You Dion?" asked Marla
"Depends who's asking" he replied curtly, his eyes watching her suspiciously.
"I'm looking for a man" answered Marla. Dion raised an eyebrow, only to be met by the cold stare from Marla.
She was about to speak when she suddenly felt someone's hand slap her rear with such force as to knock her against the bar. Marla spun around - and met the face of one of the roughly dressed men - a skin head, with bloodshot eyes, and a scared complexion, his breath nearly overpowering her with the stench of beer.
"Hey there darlin' " he said with a slurred, Scottish sounding voice "if yer lookin' for a man you cant do much wrong with me"- though to be honest if it hadn't been for his breath and the fact that he had a pronounced beer belly she might have found him only slightly repugnant.
"Get lost creep" replied Marla in a condescending tone and turned back towards the barman, only to suddenly feel a hand grab her shoulder and spin her back around. "Hey, didn't yer mother tell yeez it was rude to turn yer back on someone?"
"Hey leave her alone" shouted Dion, only to come face to face with a pair of the man's friends.
"You back off" said the man with a sneer" me an' her were just ...gettin' sociable". At this the rest of men laughed - only to go silent when Marla placed a well aimed knee into his crotch.
The man bent over but with a speed that defied his size turned and hit Marla, throwing her off her seat and onto the barroom floor hard, dazing Marla for a second. The man grabbed Marla by the collar of her shirt and rammed her against the bar, his face red and creased with anger, "you just made a big mistake missy"
"I could say the same about you" retorted Marla defiantly, as she began to summon forth the energy to create a lightning bolt.
The man and his friends laughed derisively at her "what," said the man, the sarcasm practically dripping off his words "am I supposed to be scared of you, sweetheart?"
"You should be Angus"
The man - Angus - and his friends turned to see where the voice came from, two of them producing knives, their blades shining in the barrooms lights.
Their attention was drawn towards the far end of the bar. There sat a man, his face hidden by shadows, who wore a long, grey trench coat. He necked back a whiskey glass and placed it, upside down, on the table. He turned to face the men. Upon entering the light Marla could see a thin, angular face of a man in his mid to late 20's, with black, scruffy looking hair. The man walked slowly towards Angus, his cold blue, almost hawk like eyes staring unflinchingly at Angus, unnerving Angus' men.
"you know Angus" continued the man, as he walked leisurely towards Angus, His voice showing the strains of an Irish accent," didn't your mother tell you it was rude to hit a lady?" by now he was almost face to face with Angus.
"Oh yeah, speaking of your mother - how is flossy the sheep these days?"
One of Angus' men sniggered but Angus didn't - his face lit up bright red, and his mouth curled back in a snarl - a snarl that revealed a row of sharp, distinctly un-human teeth.
Angus, dropping Marla, in a whisper simply said two words - "gut 'im"
As one the gang pounced on the man, their faces also showing the demonic grin and animalistic thrill of killing.
The dark haired man moved as if lightning - here his fist flattening Angus, there his elbow connecting with the throat of one gang member behind him dropping him, his hand's to his throat, to the ground with a solid thunk .
Another dived at him with a knife, intent in disemboweling him - only to be rewarded with his knife being grabbed and twisted from his arm, and a fist hammered into his stomach which sent him flying into a bar table. Another one jumped at him, intent on sinking his sharp teeth into his shoulder, only to be on the receiving end of a foot as the man high - kicked him solidly in the chest, the sound of ribs breaking audible to all within earshot.
Suddenly he felt an arm grab his shoulder and spin him around - followed by a fist connecting with his face. The man flew across the floor and hit the far side of the bar - a full fifty feet - with an audible smack .The man, his back against the wall, shook his head groggily.
One of Angus' men advanced on him, licking his lips - only to receive a left hook from Angus, which sent him crashing to the floor.
"NO!" he bellowed his mouth opening fully to reveal all of his teeth, "He's mine".
Angus advanced on the man, his shadow covering him with an ominous darkness,"im gonna enjoy eatin' you alive".
The dark haired man looked up at him with a sneer "you know what the problem is with you Angus?"
Angus stopped, puzzled - only to arch back, his face frozen in agony, as a bolt of black and red lightning struck him full force, its light blinding everyone in the bar.
When the light finally dissipated Angus - burnt from head to foot - swayed drunkenly, and then fell to the floor, his impact making the bar shudder.
The dark haired man climbed to his feet "you problem is your always thinking with your stomach"
he turned first to Marla, her hand still smoking from casting the hellfire lightning, and then towards the remaining gang members, who were either looking in shock at what had happened to their leader, or trying to get back on their feet.
He looked at them, again his eyes boring into them like drills, and they flinched visibly.
"Boo!" was all the man said - but that was enough to send the gang running for the door and out of the bar.
"OI" he bellowed and the gang stopped.
He pointed towards the remains of Angus "don't forget your rubbish". At this two of the gang members hastily picked but the burnt remains, and again, with hardly a sound, left the bar.
"Bloody redcaps" the man grumbled to himself as he dusted himself off.
It was at this cue that the remaining patrons either hastily grabbed their things and left the bar, or turned quietly to their drinks, the fracas already forgotten, and indeed if it hadn't been for the war zone created by the broken furniture and glasses, it was almost true.
Dion came from behind the bar and walked over to the dark haired man, carrying a bottle of whisky
The man staggered for a second and quickly went over to a relatively undamaged chair and sat down hard, his face sweat-laden as though from exhaustion.
Dion looked over and, partly to Marla and partly to himself said "heh, I've seen him do that loads of times, but it still doesn't cease to amaze me".
"Aye, reminds me of when I was his age" Dion though to himself as he went back behind the bar.
Marla walked over to the man and pulled up a chair next to him.
The man raised his head and returned the look.
"looks like I found my god" said Marla.
"And hello to you too" said Loki.
TO BE CONTINUED...