Chapter 1

Rain continued to crash down on the already sodden soil. The wind howled throughout the graveyard, accompanied only by the occasional roar of thunder that would follow the sporadic flashes of lightning. The squawking of a crow interrupts the crescendo and grows louder, until the bird finally swoops down and perches atop a particular gravestone. This cenotaph is dedicated to one Angelica Freja Anderson, 1990-2015.

The crow begins squawking louder still, perhaps out of fear or a show of aggression. The ambiguity fades when the loosened earth below the grave begins to move. A small patch of soil is pushed up as a human hand appears from under the dirt, grasping at the air with stiff fingers. The crow seems unperturbed by this, continuing its unholy cacophony, but more in accord with a celebration or excitement.

The hand desperately tries to find some purchase on the waterlogged mud. An almost impossible task, but the hand is relentlessly determined. It eventually manages to get some grip on the marshy ground and begins to pull itself up over the surface. The hand is followed by a slim, delicate arm, shortly accompanied by another. Finally, a head emerges from the earth. A young woman with long, straight blonde hair, looking sickeningly pale and gasping for air, begins to look around in a panic, confused at her surroundings but relieved to be above the soil. With both arms now free, she can easily pull the rest of her body out of the tomb. Dressed only in a white gown, she shivers in the biting cold wind. Not quite able to find the strength to stand, she remains kneeling in the mud, the rain bombarding her frail body. She lets out a scream as she tries to bend her arms. It is as if her muscles have suddenly decided to grow at an unnaturally fast rate. She has experienced this feeling before, when she first woke up in her coffin. This is what had first enabled her to break free from her casket. She had hoped that would be the end of this unpleasant experience, but apparently her body was not finished yet. After a few more cries of agony the woman now realises she is able to stand. Barefoot in the mud and grass, she looks down at her hands. Blood trickles from her knuckles and fingertips, the result of scraping and punching on the coffin lid when she first awoke. She looks up to the sky and lifts her arms as if embracing the rain that is now starting to cleanse the dirt and blood from her body. She gives a wicked grin and then begins to laugh out loud.

Stumbling out of the graveyard, she slowly makes her way down to the busy high street. Barefoot in a soaking wet gown, torrential rain still gushing down, Angelica no longer feels any discomfort. This temporary peace is immediately ended by an unpleasant memory.

On the ground, in a dark alley. Eight men surround her with lustful eyes. One of the men, with a shaved head, is right on top of her. Another man, with long, greasy hair, pulls him back and takes his place.

Brought back into the present by the squawking of the crow, Angelica is overcome with sickness. Something is very wrong, but the crow beckons her forward and she feels compelled to follow. It guides her to a particular area of the busy street and begins to fly around in circles before resting on a lamp post. It obviously wants her to wait here for some reason.

It isn't long before she attracts the seemingly unwanted attention of a passing car. It slows down next to her and the driver sticks his face out of the window.

" Hey, you need a lift? Rain's pretty heavy."

Angelica begins walking away, completely unresponsive as if she hadn't heard a word. She doesn't want to deal with people right now, but the crow starts squawking again, almost as if it's shouting at her to do something.

Angelica reluctantly glances over to the driver and immediately gets another brief flashback. She recognises him as one of the men in her vision. His name is Steve and his passenger is Vic.

Steve is a slim, young Caucasian man in his mid-twenties. Short brown hair and blue eyes, he doesn't particularly look like your typical ne'er do well until he opens his mouth and you get a taste of his attitude. His partner in crime, Vic, is slightly smaller and stockier, shaven-headed with stubble. He is slightly more intimidating than his counterpart.

Vic notices that the girl is barefoot and wearing nothing but a white gown.

"Hey, check the feet! Think she's escaped from the loony bin," Vic states light-heartedly.

"My kinda girl! Hey, why don't you come in here and we'll ride together?" Steve asks again.

Once more she ignores him and continues walking.

"You know, you're really going to catch your death dressed like that on a night like tonight," explains Steve, who is getting increasingly impatient.

"Already done that." mutters Angelica under her breath, too quiet to be heard.

"Nothing? That's a bit rude, don't you think?" he barks aggressively.

"Ignorant cow," states Vic accusingly.

Steve brings the car ahead of Angelica and turns it slowly in front of her, blocking her path. The two men jump out of the vehicle and approach her.

"So Steve, how we gonna do this?" asks Vic as he glances over to his partner in crime.

"Get in line. She needs a real man while she's fresh," replies Steve.

"Fuck you! I'm going first this time," demands Vic.

The two men almost look like they're about to start fighting as they approach, but the slight smiles on their faces give the game away. It's all just an act to keep her distracted until they can get close enough to grab her. Vic suddenly darts behind and grabs her arms, holding them firmly behind her back. Meanwhile, Steve gets up close and personal. He brushes her hair back, away from her face and caresses her cheek.

"Pretty. You're gonna do just fine."

Vic grins and tries to get a good look at her face but can't quite manage it while holding her arms back. Both men notice Angelicas gown is soaking wet, almost transparent.

"And that's a nice bod you got there too!"

Steve begins to fondle her body and leans in closer to her breasts as both men seem to drift off into their own worlds, mesmerized by her beauty.

Angelica strategically chooses this opportunity to raise her right knee rapidly into Steve's face at full force. The unnatural power of the blow sends Steve flying back several yards, where he collapses on the ground. Vic jumps back in total disbelief, releasing her arms in the process.

"What the fu...?"

"You!" Angelica barks as she points at the dazed man.

Vic continues to edge back towards the car, knowing that he has a baseball bat on the dashboard.

"And him!" she glances over to Steve, still crumpled on the ground.

"You were both there. One year ago."

The crow swoops down and gives a pleasing squawk as if in agreement. It perches on her shoulder and seems to look into her very soul. Another flash back.

Angelica is on the ground, dazed and confused. Blood is trickling from a nasty gash on her head. Vic stands over her, Steve apparently having finished, stands beside his conquest. There are six other men in the background but she is unable to see their faces. There is no doubt that they play some part in this horrific event. Having satisfied himself, Vic gives her a kick to the head.

Suddenly back to the present, no time seems to have occurred during her recollection. She continues to approach Vic with growing rage.

Vic reaches into the car, quickly grabs the baseball bat and holds it in front of himself with both hands. Gaining a little new-found confidence he marches up to this frail woman, swinging at her head with full force. She dodges the clumsy attack fairly easily and stands there nonchalantly. Another swing and another easy dodge. Angelica realises that she seems to have gained remarkable agility. She is eager to test just how fast she can be, but Vic's attempts are feeble at best.

"Have you ever even used that thing before? Come on, hit me!" she goads.

Vic now tries his best in response to the taunt, anger beginning to take control. Swing after swing fails to connect. Finally Angelica grabs the bat off of him and tosses it aside. Now with only his bare fists to use, she allows him to grab her arm and then move behind her, clutching her head into a lock with his other arm. Surprised at his success, and with no clear plan, he attempts to drag her farther down the alley. Not having made any effort to resist so far, Angelica decides it is now time to dispose of this minor problem. She thrusts her elbow backwards into Vic's stomach then turns around and grabs his head, lifts him over her shoulder and sends him crashing to the ground behind her.

Gasping for breath, Vic looks wide-eyed in horror up at the woman.

"What the fuck," he gasps again, '...are you?"

Angelica's non-verbal reply is to stamp her leg down on Vic's neck, producing a sickening crack. She then casually turns her attention to Steve, who has just about recovered from his unwanted trip across the alley. The man is already looking defeated, as if he knows what's coming next.

"I guess you really are an angel," he mutters while slowly staggering towards her.

She approaches him and puts her hands on the back of his neck as if to pull his face closer for a kiss. He smiles confusedly, almost believing that she might spare his life after all. His hopes are short-lived, however, as she moves right up and level to his eyes and smiles, before quickly spinning his head around, breaking his neck.

"An avenging angel, maybe?" she quips as Steve's body falls to the ground.