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When Cassidy Albright opened her eyes once more, the angel statue was right next to her, staring down at her with a menacing stare.
"You moved," she breathed, fear suddenly forcing her into sobriety once more. "You moved."
Her angel statue had moved and Cassidy could hardly believe it. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest and her fingers curled against the polished floor. The nail polish that she had so carefully applied earlier grazed and chipped against the surface of the podium.
She dared not look away from the statue lest it moved again and she missed it.
With quivering legs and arms like wet ribbons, Cassidy attempted to stand up, watching the angel all the while.
He did not make any movement to stop her from moving and not even daring to breathe, she slowly started to move backwards.
"Ah!"
She stumbled on one of the steps, falling in her high heels.
For a split second, her eyes left the statue as she scrambled back to her feet but when her eyes returned to the statue, a shrill scream escaped her lips.
The statue had moved again.
The stone angel was right in front of her once more- now standing bolt upright, his huge arms at his sides and his fists clenched…his eyes still firmly locked on hers.
"N-No…"
There was no this could really be happening, Cassidy told herself.
This was the kind of thing that happened in fairytales and on television.
But this was neither. This was the real world and this was really happening.
For a wild moment, she considered the possibility of her being the victim of a horrible prank. But that would be virtually impossible. There was no way someone could move and mould a creature of stone so quickly.
And this was no replacement statue.
No.
Cassidy knew every last inch of her stone angel.
She was well-versed in every last crack, crevice and contour of Michael's body and now as she studied his face, staring down at her, she knew that this was the statue that she had found in the forest that day.
Cassidy took another step backwards, moving further away and blinking once more.
Again, the angel moved closer and Cassidy's heart leapt into her mouth. This time, his arm was outstretched, his fingertips bare centimetres from her exposed neck.
"He's moving," thought Cassidy, her mind panicked and torn by terror. "The angel statue can move and he's following me. All those rumours were true. Louisa had tried to warn me about the statue. Abbie tried to warn me too…"
She swallowed and moved backwards further, her head spinning.
Why wasn't he moving?
"Wh-why? Why don't you ever move when I'm watching you?"
Why wasn't he trying to stop her from getting away?
Why did the mighty stone seraph never move when she was watching him?
Abigail Drake's words rang in his ears. "He moves when you're not looking."
A new thought dawned on Cassidy.
What if the angel couldn't move when she was watching?
Body near-numb with fear but her mind active and alert, she slowly backed away to the door frame. In the back of her mind, there was a voice screaming at her to run away. However, that voice was completely drowned by the call of curiosity. She sucked in a breath of air between her teeth and dared herself to test her theory.
"R-right…"
Completely unaware of the danger she was in, Cassidy whipped her head around, looking away from the statue and looking back again.
"Ah-!"
When her head turned back to the room, the statue was a mere breath away from her face. The statue's neck was craned, his stone, grey nose almost touching hers and his blank eyes still staring deeply into her eyes and one hand lifted, as if about to grab her.
"That's it th-then," Cassidy whispered. "Y-you can't move while I'm looking at you…" She swallowed, the stress of the situation suddenly making her want to cry. "You're not an ordinary statue…What the…what the Hell are you?"
Cassidy tried to back away once more but unable to prevent herself from blinking, allowed her eyelids to droop.
In that single blink, the angel statue was now right in front of her again but this time, he had changed.
She wanted to scream, but all that she could manage was a sharp gasp with no breath in it.
Her once-handsome angel's face had contorted to become that of a demon's.
Deep furrows lined his glowering eyes, his gaping mouth- open in a silent roar- revealed jagged, sharp fangs and sharp claws now lined the fingers that were poised to grab her by the throat.
Immediately, Cassidy started to run.
She forced her way through the massive double doors and swiftly turned to face the doorway once more, moving backwards.
"I have to keep watching him," she murmured under her rattling breath. "Just like Grandmother's Footsteps."
She started to run backwards, her ankles wobbling violently in her high-heels. She could feel tears burning in the corners of her eyes.
She tried screaming for help but with no working security cameras, she had no way of alerting the security guards or anyone else for that matter.
Despite her most intent efforts, fear and confusion set her head aching and with every reluctant blink, the monstrous looking statue moved closer to her- chasing her down the corridor.
Cassidy screamed once more, tears now streaming freely down her face.
"What are you!? What do you want with me?!" she begged the angel to tell her. "Please! Leave me alone! What do you want?"
Moving backwards, she knew that she would soon reach the end of the corridor and would be trapped like a rat in a cage. She considered turning around to run but the angel was fast.
Terrifyingly fast.
In the single blink of an eye, he was only inches away from her each time.
And yet, Cassidy had the dreadful feeling that he still wasn't moving at full-speed…like he was toying with her…
"What do you want from me?!" she asked again. "Can you even understand what I'm saying? What do you want from me?!"
At her next blink, she was shocked to see that the angel hadn't moved at all.
Instead, he was standing completely still.
Pointing at directly at her with a single clawed finger.
Smirking.
Cassidy shook her head, her tears pouring faster. "What? I don't understand!"
In another fearful blink, the angel had moved again- closer to her and a snarl now etched into his features.
The pure, malicious rage in the eyes of the angel sent such a wave of fright through the young archaeologist that she immediately started to run backwards again, her body heaving with dry sobs.
She tried screaming for help again but once again, her pleas fell on deaf ears and it wasn't long before she was backed against the glass of an exhibition case.
The angel was now staring at her with the eyes of a predator.
"He has me trapped," Cassidy thought fearfully, her mind loose and splintered with sheer terror. "He's going to hurt me. He's going to kill me."
Her fingers slid sideways, fumbling for the console beside the glass exhibition case. She tapped the security key into the console-pad, her fingers habitually falling upon the correct buttons and her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes started to itch and prickle from her efforts not to blink but she refused to give in, feeling the glass of the case starting to rise up behind her.
"Come on, come on...fuck it…come on!"
As soon as the glass was high enough, Cassidy hit the reverse button on the console and climbed into the display window.
In the manner of a garage door, the bullet-proof glass pane started to come downwards, creating a barrier between her and the angel.
She didn't care if she was trapping herself in the case; the angel wouldn't be able to get at her from behind the glass.
With more frightened tears, her blinks became more rapid, clumps of black eyeliner hanging like smudging icicles from her eyelashes.
The demonic, ferocious-looking stone angel started now looked positively furious.
With each blink, a loud, resounding thud echoed through the glass as the angel's fist pounded the unwelcome barrier. He continued to hammer the glass, even as Cassidy moved backwards, pressing her back against the stone wall at the far end of the case.
Sickness and fear racked her body and she fell to her knees, crying and shutting her eyes completely.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The angel kept striking the glass.
Would it soon break? Cassidy wondered with panic.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone," she murmured, holding her head as she repeated her petrified mantra again and again. "Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone…"
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Why was this happening? Her angel statue, her Michael, the work of art that was supposed to be the very first triumph in her career was in fact, not a statue at all.
On top of all of her confusion, fear, grief for Louisa and humiliation following Leon's rejection, Cassidy felt consumed by betrayal.
"Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The angel- the predator himself- almost admired his little human female's endurance. It was almost a full five minutes before Cassidy Albright passed out completely.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Cassidy looked around the cave where she stood, trembling all over.
It was dark but she knew that she was being watched. She could feel a thousand pairs of eyes watching her.
She could feel hiseyes all over her.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Michael…"
The name that she had given to the statue ghosted on her lips.
But he wasn't really a statue, was he?
What was he? What did he want with her?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She hadn't understood his pointing gesture.
What had he meant?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
As she walked through the shadow-draped catacombs of the cave, her mind wandered back to the day that she had first found Michael…in particular to the fact that we has chained to the ground.
Had someone else known that he wasn't really a statue? Is that why he had been chained there?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
What had she set free?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Cassidy Albright awoke, her head throbbing and her hair partially sticking to the encrusted, dry streams of eyeliner that now meandered down her cheeks.
Still partially dreaming, she placed a hand on her aching neck and massaged it, wondering why her bed suddenly felt so hard and rigid.
It only took her a few minutes for her terror from last night to come flooding back to her.
She had locked herself in one of the large display cases to prevent the statue from getting to her.
Looking up with fear still bubbling like bile in her throat, Cassidy was expecting to see the angel statue still staring menacingly at her from behind the glass.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
However, instead, the sight she was greeted with was that of a furious Curator Stanford, flanked by two rather confused looking security guards, one of whom was very gingerly tapping the glass.
Her voice still weak and slightly slurred from the tumultuous after-effects of the champagne from last night, she hoarsely called out the code that she had used to lock herself inside the exhibition case.
The glass was raised and with trembling limbs, Cassidy climbed out of the exhibition case, managing to narrowly avoid knocking over a few plastic Neanderthal mannequins.
Stanford was twitching with anger, the elderly man's usually pink round face, now tinted a sickening plum-purple.
"Sir, I-…"
"My office, Miss Albright," Stanford managed to order her, not allowing her a single word in her own defence. "Now."
Seated before her employer, Cassidy's mouth was dry and her head was sore. If this had been any other day, in any other situation, she would have been quivering in fear at the sight of angry Stanford. However, after her living night terror the night before, Cassidy actually felt rather relaxed.
Relieved, even.
After all, she was still alive.
The angel still weighed heavily upon her mind.
Where was it now? Was it back in the exhibition room? Was it watching her at that very moment?
"Never, in all my time working as the curator of this fine museum, have I ever come across such a brazen display of carelessness from such a well-respected employee," Stanford informed her, angrily. "Miss Albright, this is outrageous- not to mention ridiculously unlike you. After your own presentation ceremony, you become intoxicated and decide to climb into a display case, falling unconscious in a drunken stupor after ruining an extremely delicate Stone Age diorama…"
Cassidy shook her head, forcing herself to protest. She could feel tears of embarrassment pricking at the corners of her eyes. This was so utterly unfair.
"Sir, I…I didn't just decide to climb into the display case and I certainly d-didn't mean to knock the d-display about…I was…"
"Oh, it wasn't just drunken fun? Well, Miss Albright, would you care to explain what on earth you hoped to achieve with your actions?" He raised his eyebrows, the tiny white hairs standing vividly out against his ruddy, wrinkled forehead.
Cassidy shifted in her seat, opening her mouth and closing it again like a goldfish. She had no idea what to say; there was no way she could explain what had happened last night without sounding clinically insane.
She wanted to warn him about the statue somehow but that seemed fairly impossible considering the fact that she herself wasn't sure what exactly she had experienced last night.
"I wasn't trying to…to engage in 'drunken fun', sir."
"Miss Albright, I have staff members who witnessed you leaving the champagne reception merry as a lord. Mr Drake acknowledged that you seemed particularly inebriated when he bade you farewell."
Cassidy felt a sinking feeling in her chest with the knowledge that Leon had spoken to Stanford about her. "He rejects me and then rats me out in one night," she thought. "Wow, I sure know how to pick them."
"Sir," she insisted. "I may have been a little drunk, I'll admit…but there's something important…"
"Miss Albright, I cannot allow employees to behave in such a manner. This is extremely irresponsible of you. How do you think this reflects on the museum staff as a whole? Do you have any idea what would have happened if the security guards hadn't discovered you in the case before opening hours? Or if a member of the press had hung behind and seen you engaged in such tomfoolery?"
"I…I…look, my intentions weren't at all malicious…I didn't climb into the case for fun…I intended to reset the display when it was safe to climb out…when I passed out…" She swallowed. "When I passed out, it was from shock…not from drunkenness…"
"Shock? Why? Did you realise that you had become trapped?"
"No, sir…I…I was being chased…"
"Chased? Chased? Chased by whom, exactly?"
"…I…I…I'm not sure…just some man…maybe one of the viewers from the party…he tried to attack me…so I ran and climbed into the case for protection…"
Stanford looked concerned for a moment, folding his hands on the table. "Why did you not call for help?"
"I did but the security guards didn't hear me. They were in the basement."
"So why did you not run in the direction of the basement?"
"Sir, with all due respect, I was frightened and…I had a lot to drink…"
"Do you have any idea who your attacker might have been?"
"No, sir. I didn't get a good look at his face…and last night is…blurry…"
Cassidy was silently amazed at her own ability to slowly rationalise her actions from the night before. In spite of her impromptu storytelling, Stanford still looked sceptical.
"Miss Albright…your story is extremely dubious."
"I'm aware, sir."
"Especially considering the fact that none of the security cameras are working as of late."
"I know, sir."
Stanford looked at her over the rim of his glasses, clasping his hands and sighing gravely. "Cassidy…this is very unlike you. Do you have any idea what something like this could do to your career? To your chances at getting the position with Dr Rosenstock? The damage this incident could do to such a fledgling career is exponential…"
Cassidy hung her head, tears properly welling in her eyes and threatening to spill down her cheeks.
She knew of the consequences of her actions but everything she had done, she had done to defend herself. How was she supposed to prove that to the curator? How could she explain what had happened last night to anyone?
It was so ironic.
The statue that had set her career in motion was about to end her career.
She found herself thinking about how her mother would react to the knowledge that her daughter had been found, passed out from drink inside a display case in the museum.
It was only when Stanford handed her a tissue accompanied by an awkward cough that she realised that she was crying.
His voice softened. "Look, Cassidy. I know you mean well and this is the first blip on an otherwise completely clean record…but the museum does have procedures to do with incidents like these…"
The archaeologist nodded, dabbing at her eyes, knowing that if she spoke- her voice would dissolve into nothing but pathetic, quivering squawks.
Stanford went on. "Now, we can't contact your superior, Dr Hewitt, as of late. He appears to have left our grid and we suspect that he may have taken an early holiday leave ("Of course he has," Cassidy thought numbly. "Don't mention the fact that the police are investigating his disappearance"). So I'll be taking control of the situation until Dr Hewitt returns and the museum board are given the chance to review the situation. As such, Cassidy Albright, you'll be suspended without pay from work here at the museum, effective immediately."
His words hit her hard, like swift, sharp blows to the chest.
As she left Stanford's office, however, it wasn't her payroll that Cassidy suddenly became concerned about. It wasn't even her career or reputation. The suspension had been a shock to her system but truth be told, Cassidy had expected much worse.
Anyway, she was more than happy to leave the museum for a while: she needed some time away from the angel. Even if some strange part of her was dying at the thought of being away from her angel again.
All she could think about the angel statue.
About Michael.
Just thinking about the events of the night before sent tremors of terror through her.
Shivering and unable to think straight, she couldn't even bring herself to go anywhere near the exhibition room- even to check that the angel was still there.
She was far too frightened to even consider that.
Instead, she walked straight to the employee elevator, set to head straight to the preparation room.
The room was empty and grateful for that, Cassidy seized her backpack from under the work bench.
"Oh God," she groaned, seeing her face in the small hand-mirror pulled hastily from the side-pocket. Not only was she tousle-haired and red-eyed but her make-up was now smudged in blotchy, encrusted patches all over her face. There were also two long, black, dried-in serpents streaking her cheeks, marking the places where her tears had once ran.
"Not only do I fucking feel like Death," she grunted, lifting a hand to nurse her throbbing temples as her free hand wiped her face clean. "I fucking look like Death too."
Thankfully, her clothes from the day before were still intact and shelled of her high heel shoes and dress, Cassidy felt a lot more comfortable- if not a lot scruffier.
A hollow knock sounded at the door that made her jump, almost dropping her mirror. She turned to see Edmund Potter standing in the doorway.
Cassidy felt her face heat up at the sight of Edmund's surverying, quizzical gaze.
"H-Hey…"
Edmund gave a long exhale. "Hey Cass. I heard about the suspension…"
"Look, Ed, if you're here to gloat," Cassidy said sharply, snatching up her backpack and shrugging it on to her arm. "I'm not in the mood."
He held up both hands. "Hey, hey, hey. I'm not here to gloat at all." His forehead creased with genuine concern. "I'm…just worried about you, Cass. This is all so unlike you. I mean, Jake from security told me that you were drunk and disorderly or something…but you'd never do something like that." He smiled a little. "I mean, when we were at Hewitt's for Christmas, you were the one peeling me off the walls after a few glasses of wine."
Cassidy couldn't help but laugh at the memory but the moment that she tried to speak rationally, her lips started to tremble. "Well…I wasn't as bad as they think I was…"
Edmund frowned. "Then what's the real reason that you were in that case last night?"
Her voice was starting to wobble dangerously. "Y-you wouldn't…b-believe me even…even if I t-t-told you…"
"Try me."
She opened her mouth but suddenly a myriad of terrifying images from the night before, flooded her mind. "I…I…" Without warning, Cassidy burst into uncontrollable tears. "Ed…I can't…I'm just so scared…I'm sorry…"
Shock and relief coursed through her as she felt Edmund's arm wrap around her shoulders. "Shh…oi, no need for tears. Hey, relax. You're shaking like a leaf." He gave her a squeeze. "You know what might cheer you right up? Your angel exhibition is already really popular. Do you want to go in to check out your angel on display?"
"No! No!" Cassidy protested quickly, still crying as she pushed Edmund's arm away. She was thankful for his concern but at that very moment, she was too sick with fear to feel anything but suffocated. "No…please…I d-don't want to b-b-be anywhere n-near it…!"
"Ok, ok, ok," Edmund said quickly, stepping back and keeping his tone as gentle and diplomatic as possible. "…right, you don't have to go to the statue. What do you want to do? You need to seriously chill out, Cass."
She swallowed, taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself. "I d-don't care what w-w-we do as l-long as it's nowhere n-near the…the…"
"I get off my shift at twelve," Edmund informed her softly. "If you're willing to wait here until then, we can go for coffee if you'd like."
Cassidy nodded dumbly, hugging the backpack to her chest as if it were some kind of life-preserver. "I…I'd like that a lot." She managed a wavering smile. "Thank you, Edmund."
Cassidy hadn't expected to find comfort with anyone that day, least of all, Edmund Potter- the man she had always experienced nothing but rivalry with.
But sympathy for her seemed to have blunted his usually razor sharp competitive edge and she was thankful for that. If anything, it only proved that what Louisa had said was right: when all came to all, Edmund was a nice guy.
He kept his word and at midday, the two archaeologists were sitting and chatting in a small café, half-damp from the light rain outside.
Edmund thanked the waitress as she delivered his macchiato and placed a black coffee in front of Cassidy, before turning to his dishevelled companion.
"So…you tried it on with Leon and he brushed you off?"
She despised his terminology- he was making her affections sound cheap and tawdry- but spite of her mild irritation, Cassidy nodded glumly. "Yes. He made it very clear that any "vibes" I might have gotten from him were all in my head."
Edmund shrugged. "Leon's a proper prat anyway. I wouldn't feel like I missed out on much, if I were you, to be honest." He raised his eyebrows. "So you got hammered after that. Then what happened?"
Cassidy bit her lip, her hands clasped on either side of the cup and her eyes staring down into the rippling black liquid. "…I went to see the statue."
"And?" Edmund took a sip of his own drink. "Then what happened?"
"…I can't say…I can't…" She winced, shaking her head violently. "No…I can't tell you…"
"Christ, Cass," he groaned. "I'm not trying to interrogate you or anything but if you've got a genuine reason for acting the way you did, you can make a stronger case to Stanford to get your job back…"
"I don't care about the job!" she suddenly exclaimed, loudly enough to startle a passing waitress. "I don't care about that! If anything, I just need to fucking stay away from the museum right now…"
"Cass…what happened? You weren't…attacked were you?"
"Y-ye-…no…"
Edmund took a deep breath before leaning close to Cassidy, his eyes full of tentative concern. "Was it one of the security guards?"
"N-no!"
"Well, then who was it, Cassidy? It's obvious that something happened to you last night and if you don't name whoever was involved, you'll nev-…"
"It's the statue."
Edmund blinked. "Come again?"
"It's the statue," Cassidy repeated, looking up at him. "The angel. Michael. He moved."
"It…moved?"
"Yes," she insisted, starting to tremble again at the memory of those cold, grey eyes staring at her. "He can move. Ed…I don't think he's even a real statue. There's something seriously wrong with it…"
"Do you hear yourself right now?"
"Look, I know this sounds crazy but that statue came to life somehow and chased me. It was…it was g-going to kill me, Ed."
"Awwh, Jesus, Cass," Edmund groaned, rolling his eyes as his concern melted into cynicism. "Are you serious? I knew you were obsessed with that statue but I never thought you'd actually buy so far into all of these stupid rumours."
"I'm not "buying into" any rumours!" Cassidy almost shouted, now shaking so much that her teeth were clinking against the china of her cup. "I saw it for m-myself. The st-statue moved! He can m-move when you're not looking at him."
Edmund knitted his brows. "Cass, just stop, alright? Stop calling the statue a "he", stop talking about it as if it's alive and stop freaking out. You're just making yourself upset."
"Y-you don't understand! You didn't see it for y-yourself…"
Cassidy wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, her gaze briefly flicking to outside the window…
…and her heart just about stopped.
There was a church across the street and standing atop one of the massive stone pillars of the church's iron-railing walls was an angel statue.
But not just any angel statue. This seraph was tall, muscular and with the exact neatly draped Greek toga, stone feathered wings, long hair and ominous gaze that Cassidy knew only too well.
It was Michael.
And he was looking straight at her.
"The angel! It followed me!" she shrieked. "It followed me. It followed me!"
There weren't many people in the café but most of the patrons had stopped whatever they were doing to stare at Cassidy with confusion and concern.
Awkwardly, Edmund stood up and walked over to stoop beside Cassidy's seat.
"Shh," he whispered, giving her a hug, before following her gaze out the rain-streaked window. "Cassidy, listen to me. That's not the angel from the museum. Come on now, you know this better than anyone. The angel in the museum has his arm covering his eyes and that one has both arms stretched out. They can't be the same angel…no one can manipulate metamorphic rock like that…"
Edmund just didn't know.
His words gave her little comfort but Cassidy forced herself to nod, pretending that he was soothing her.
She knew that the angel outside, watching her every move was Michael. But there was no point in trying to convince Edmund Potter any further.
He truly just believed that she was having some kind of bizarre nervous breakdown. She avoided looking out of the window again
He held her for the next few seconds, finally parting to check his phone as it vibrated.
He sighed and stood up. "I have to head back to the museum now."
Cassidy's eyes widened of their own accord and she suddenly sat bolt upright. The idea of being left alone with the angel watching her, made her rigid with terror.
"Y-You can't…please, Edmund…d-don't go…"
"I'm sorry. I really have to." He frowned, looking genuinely apologetic and still extremely concerned. "I'll text you later to see how you're doing and call me if you need to talk some more later."
He gave her shoulder one last squeeze. "Go home and relax, Cassidy. You need it."
She watched him swallow back the rest of his coffee and leave, heading down the street outside and disappearing around the corner.
She clasped her hands in her lap, shaking violently and her teeth almost chattering.
After a few seconds of staring at the lukewarm coffee in front of her, Cassidy dared herself to look out the window.
To see if Michael was still watching her.
But when Cassidy finally looked up and out the window, the angel was gone.
She clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming in public again and kept her eyes on the coffee cup in front of her.
He's following me. He's definitely following me. He's definitely following me because he wants to kill me.
A thousand threads of thought rushed through Cassidy's mind.
What was she supposed to do?
She automatically fumbled for her phone despite not knowing whom she planned on calling yet.
The police would more than likely think she was insane.
Stanford would probably think she was playing some kind of prank in retaliation for her suspension.
Most of her friends would think she was having a laugh with them too.
Edmund had said to give him a call, but Cassidy highly doubted that he'd be willing to drop everything and come running back to the café just because she asked him to.
He had also made it very clear that he didn't exactly believe her story either.
She swallowed, deciding that her best option was to return home as quickly as possible.
Her own house seemed like a good place to hide out while she figured out what to do.
"If he wants to follow me there," Cassidy told herself, trying to coax her heartbeat to slow down. "He'll have to follow me through London…and if he truly can't move if someone's watching him...then I'll have the advantage because the city'll be packed with people by one o clock." She relaxed a little with this knowledge. "Someone is bound to see him and while he's still frozen, I can get ahead of him and he won't know where I've gone…"
Her plan had a million flaws but Cassidy could truly care less.
Not giving herself a chance to overthink it, she quickly called for a taxi; she was not prepared to take the risk involved in walking.
Willing her legs to start moving, Cassidy rose and moved to a seat that was further away from the window. Taking a stolen glance, she couldn't see the angel outside anymore.
"But that doesn't mean that he isn't there," Cassidy thought, sitting at her new table. "If he can't see me…maybe there's a better chance that he'll get bored and leave me alone…"
Her insides squirmed a little.
She felt as though she was fourteen years old again and being bullied by the tougher, prettier girls in her class at school. She remembered hiding in the bathrooms and waiting until they got bored and stopped looking for her.
Cassidy took a long, deep breath. Those days hadn't lasted very long, thankfully; her mother had gone straight to the school and sorted everything out for her.
"Mum."
Cassidy's eyes widened. What if the angel followed her home? What if it went after her mother?
She didn't care so much if it tried to go after her: she could take care of herself without much hassle.
Maria Albright, on the other hand, was infirm and weak. There was no way she could outrun something like that and trying to get her up the stairs to the attic or down into the cellar would take far too long to guarantee either of their safeties.
"Besides," thought Cassidy frantically. "Mum's too rational to believe anything like this could even be true. Even if she did see him move, it would give her a heart attack anyway."
Swallowing, she fumbled with her phone again, trying to calm herself down.
It was a Tuesday.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, her mother was always taken to the hospital by her care nurse for a mandatory check-up. Usually, this involved her mother staying overnight in her private ward so that the doctors could monitor her breathing as she slept.
Cassidy chewed on the inside of her mouth, her heart dropping like a stone when she was reminded of how much worse her mother's health was getting by the day.
"No. Calm down," she told herself. "Relax. Alright, Mum might be in the hospital tonight. That means she won't be anywhere near that thing and that's the best possible scenario that I can imagine."
Taking another moment to still her breathing, Cassidy dialled her mother's number into her phone.
"Hello?"
Her mother's voice sounded as weak and withered as always but it warmed Cassidy to her very core.
"Hello, Mum."
"Cassidy? Cassy, love, where have you been? I thought that I might have missed you coming home last night and but I was up at six this morning and you weren't there."
"I know, Mum. I kn-…"
"I was worried about you!"
"I know, Mum. I'm so sorry. I just…" She paused for a moment, biting her lip before continuing. "The party went on until two, maybe three in the morning. I was about to head home but Petra lives near the museum and she offered me to stay in hers. So…I headed over there for the night…"
Cassidy just couldn't bring herself to tell her mother about the suspension. Not then and there. She couldn't bear to hear her mother, disappointed in her.
At that moment in time, her mother sounded rather annoyed at her.
"But why didn't you call, Cassy?"
"I…well, I hadn't talked to Petra since before Louisa died and…well, she was really upset too…I guess I just lost track of things…"
"Ah…I see, love. I see."
Cassidy felt unspeakably low for using her own friend's death to gain her mother's sympathy, but the truth, at that point in time, had to be protected.
"Yeah, so anyway, today I'm working some kind of strange shifts at the museum."
"Strange?"
"Yes, I'll be working tonight but I'm off right now." Taking another pause to collect her thoughts, Cassidy went on. "So I'm going to visit you in the hospital now, rather than tonight. Is that ok?"
Her mother coughed, causing her to wince at the sound of the woman struggling to breathe. "Yes, that should be fine, love. I'm not in with Dr Martin until two."
"Alright, Mum, I'll see you then."
"Bye bye, Cassy. I love you."
"Love you too."
The taxi pulled up in front of the café only minutes later.
Cassidy almost knocked over a waitress with a tray of cappuccinos, rushing out the door and straight into the back-seat of the cab.
The driver looked over his shoulder, grinning widely at her.
"Now then, ma'am. Where are we 'eaded on this fine day?"
"The Regional Hospital, please."
The man let out a low whistle. "Town's gonna be choc-a-block, ma'am. I 'ope you're not 'eaded there in a 'urry. P'raps you're better off calling an ambulance, if that's the case."
She shook her head. "I'm in no hurry. I'm just visiting."
Satisfied with this, the driver turned back around and pulled off.
Cassidy took out her phone a final time and dialled the number she had for Nancy. Her first-cousin and her mother's care-nurse.
"Hello, Nancy?"
"Hey there, Cass. How are you?"
"Fine, fine. You brought Mum to the hospital this morning, yeah?"
"As always."
"And you're taking her home tonight?"
"If the doctors don't keep her overnight…"
"Nan, I need a favour."
"Go ahead, Cass. What can I help you with?"
"…I know this is weird, but I really need you to make sure that Mum stays over in the hospital tonight…could you convince the doctors to run an extra scan or something?"
"…I could but why? Don't you want your mother to come home as early as possible?"
Cassidy shook her head, realising that lying was so much easier when (a) for the cause of protecting one's loved-ones and (b) when done repeatedly.
"I'm just worried. Mum's breathing has gotten really bad as of late. She says she's fine…but you know yourself, Nan. She always says she's fine."
"I don't know, Cass…"
"Please. You'd be giving me such peace of mind. I just want to know that there's definitely no problems there."
"…fine, fine. I'll ask Dr Martin to keep her in tonight."
Relief washed over Cassidy in a warm, welcome tide. "Thanks a million, Nancy."
She hung up, taking deep breaths again.
Cassidy didn't want to be so dishonest with those she cared about but she didn't have a choice.
Looking out at the grid-locked, rush-hour traffic, she found her mind wandering back to the angel. It almost rotted her insides to think that it was her who had brought it to the museum.
Should she have warned someone other than Edmund about it?
Someone who would have believed her?
They reached the hospital at one.
Cassidy seized a wad of paper notes from her purse and pushed them into the hand of the taxi driver.
"I won't be here long. Could you wait here for me? I'll pay you the mileage rate by the minute."
The promise of more money just about quelled any complaints or confusion that the driver had. "Not a bother, ma'am."
Not waiting for any further niceties, Cassidy flung the taxi door open and bolted into the hospital.
She would be safe here, wouldn't she?
Her Mum would be safe here too, wouldn't she?
Hospitals were big, public places.
With lots of people and security cameras.
Someone would be bound to notice a huge, stone angel moving around.
Wouldn't they?
"Caaaaassiiiiiddddyyyy…Albright," the doctor muttered, letting the familiar name roll off of his tongue as he pored over one of his own handwritten logs. "Hmmm…"
Clara yawned, walking from her room in the TARDIS, back down to the main floor.
"I don't care how often I do this," she murmured to herself, running a hand back through her hair. "Fighting aliens is still going to get the better of me, every time I do it. It's unbelievably tiring…don't know how you do it." She directed her last comment at the studious doctor, frowning. "And I don't care how peaceful you insist that those Adipose people are…when you've got five or six giant mounds of fat with eyes rubbing up against your best coat, it's hard to think of them as being peacef-…" She raised her eyebrows at the doctor's posture and choice of reading material before smirking with amusement.
"Are you still trying to figure out who that Cassidy Albright girl is?"
The doctor pouted, straightening up and shrugging. "It's just really bothering me. For something like this, you'd think I would have written myself a memoir or a note somewhere but nope. Nothing! Zilch! Nada! Maybe I should just give up…"
The doctor's pout deepened into a frown. "I don't like giving up."
Clara lifted a hand to place on his shoulder, squeezing it a little before pulling him into a half-hug. "Hey, no one's forcing you to give up. Maybe you should get some rest though. Take a break."
The doctor blushed a little at the unexpected contact but immediately and gratefully turned the half-hug into a full-embrace. "Maybe."
His companion chuckled, sighing. "With the kind of obsession you've been taking to Cassidy Albright, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were married to her."
The doctor froze, his entire body going rigid as he stepped back from Clara, grabbing her shoulders. His eyes were wide and staring, his jaw slightly slackened.
"Married…married…that's it!"
He immediately turned to the TARDIS console and started fiercely typing in a new string of search words.
Clara's own eyes widened and she spluttered out: "Y-You weren't a-actually married to her…were you?"
The doctor lifted his head. "Oh Heavens, no, no, no …BUT when I first met her, she was married."
"…Forgive me if I don't quite see how this helps your situation. Did you know her husband?"
"Cassidy Albright changed her name after she got married. That's why I don't have any information on someone named Cassidy Albright…when I met her, that wasn't what she was going by," the doctor informed the young woman at his side, standing back and watching as the main screen came to life- a new image flashing upon it. His tone became solemn and grave. "I think I've just remembered what I had to tell her."
Clara peered at the new images on the screen, her brow furrowing.
"What is that?"
The doctor took a deep breath, seriousness slowly draping across his features.
"That is why it is very important that we find the girl fleetingly known as Cassidy Albright, as soon as possible."
It was five o'clock when Cassidy finally got home and sunlight was already fading from the sky. The house itself was an old Victorian place, surrounded by briars and brambles left to her mother in a will.
Though some of her school-friends had been reluctant to stay overnight there, saying that the house was "spooky" and "probably haunted", Cassidy had never seen her home as anything but a sanctuary.
This was the very first time that she had ever felt frightened, walking up the cobbled front path and inserting her key into the old, brass lock.
For the first time in her life, Cassidy turned on every light in the entire house and spent the first hour home, just sitting next to the phone in her bedroom, hugging her knees.
She tried to distract herself with novels, manga, the internet, video-games, television…but her mind kept wandering back to Michael.
Could she even call him Michael anymore?
In her own mind, "Michael" had been the beautiful statue of a handsome, weeping seraph whom she had spent all of her time working on and in return, he listened to all of her problems.
The monster who had chased her the night before was definitely not that same angel.
Her own body surprised her.
It seemed to have betrayed her.
The thought of the angel brought tremors to her lips, limbs and torso and left fear festering in her stomach. Yet, at the same time, thinking about her Michael brought tears to her eyes and ignited something hot and longing in her chest.
What was wrong with her? What had he done to her?
At exactly six fourteen, Cassidy emerged from her bedroom, changed into a pair of loose shorts and a faded blue tank top.
A cup of tea, some pancakes and a recorded episode of "Only Fools and Horses" helped her to relax back to normality.
Comforting thoughts began to find their way back into her mind at last. After all, after the incident in the café, she hadn't seen the angel again. She didn't see him anywhere near the hospital or in it and she hadn't seen him anywhere around the house.
Maybe he had headed back to the museum, fearing that he would be missed?
"Eventually someone else will notice something weird about the statue," she thought to herself. "Someone will see him move. Someone will finally believe me. Someone will call the police and they can lock it up…"
The relieving, comforting thoughts continued until Cassidy eventually fell asleep on her living room sofa, watching television.
Her dream was vivid and strange, even in comparison her usual night-time reveries.
She dreamt about the man from the old police box, that day in the graveyard.
The "doctor" as he had introduced himself.
He was standing in front of her, pleading with her to come with him- into the big, blue police box.
She tried to follow him but she realised that there was an iron manacle around her wrist, keeping her chained to something.
Cassidy turned around, only to see Michael behind her, grinning darkly and holding the end of the chain in his clawed hands. Frightened, she tried to pull away from him but the more she tried to follow the doctor, the closer to the stone angel she was dragged.
"It's no use," she called out to the doctor. "I can't leave him…I can't leave…He won't let me go…"
She suddenly woke with a start, taking a groggy few moments to take stock of her surroundings.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
The first thing that struck her was the fact that it was now dark outside. Checking her phone, she blinked realising that it was now just past ten o'clock. She'd been asleep for almost three hours.
The second thing to strike her was just how quiet it was.
Cassidy furrowed her brow, realising that the television was no longer on. She stared at the blank screen, trying to remember if she had turned it off before she fell asleep.
She couldn't remember falling asleep and therefore she could only assume that she had fallen asleep during the programme…and the television didn't have an automatic turn-off option…
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Cassidy jumped, letting out a cry of shock as her phone suddenly sprang to life, starting to vibrate. She swallowed, trying to calm herself down again as she answered the call.
"H-Hello?"
"Cass, it's Edmund."
"Oh…hey…h-how-?"
"Cass, listen! Listen! The angel statue is missing from the museum!"
"What? What?!"
"The angel went missing from the museum just an hour ago. I have no idea how it got out of the exhibition hall but-…"
Cassidy hung up, dropping the phone.
Her eyes were wide and her whole body was shaking.
"Calm down," a soft, motherly voice said inside her head. "Calm down. Just because he's not there doesn't mean that he's he-…"
That was when she heard it.
The unmistakable sound of a flower-pot being shattered outside.
"N-No…"
For a split second, a thousand different thoughts darted through Cassidy's mind.
Only one of those garbled, frightened messages seemed to come through clearly.
Run.
Doesn't matter where. Doesn't matter why. Just run.
She sprang to her feet, pulling the converse runners at the side of the sofa on and immediately made a bolt for the hallway. She contemplated pulling over the curtains but then decided against it.
There was no doubt in her mind that the angel was right outside, hunting her and if it couldn't move when someone was watching him- her best bet at that very moment was to make sure that she could see him coming.
That said, she didn't want him to know exactly where she was.
Quivering, crying and breathing heavily, Cassidy slowly pressed her back to the wall of the hallway corridor and slid down the wall until she was crouched on the polished wooden floor.
Through a gap in the door of the sitting room, she could see out of the window. It was too dark to see much further than the lawn, but from what she could make out, it was empty.
Then the pounding started.
The front door suddenly rattled in its hinges, causing her to scream.
Someone was pounding against it, beating it with a fist. At first she was ready to delude herself that it could just be a very eager delivery man or a concerned neighbour but as the pounding increased in volume and force- she knew that that was no human on her porch.
She covered her ears, too afraid to move.
"Leave me alone!" she shrieked. "Just leave me alone! Leave me alone!"
After a few minutes, there was a still, empty, eerie silence.
The pounding had stopped.
Shakily, Cassidy removed her hands from her ears and wiped her eyes.
Had he given up?
A jolt shot like an electric shock through her body when she heard what sounded like scratching against wood, coming from outside the front door.
He was scratching around the porch. He was trying to find a way inside.
She swallowed back against a dry throat, her palms suddenly becoming sweaty and her head becoming terribly warm.
What if he discovered the back door?
Survival instincts taking over, Cassidy crawled to the kitchen on her hands and knees. She carefully made her way over to the back-door, staggered to her feet and with a trembling hand, turned the key left in the lock.
She wasn't sure if it would keep him out but it made her feel slightly safer.
Turning around sharply, her eyes automatically locking on the windows- watching for the angel.
Where the Hell was he now?
Her eyes searched the kitchen counter-tops, looking for some kind of weapon.
Anything she could use to defend herself.
Anything.
Then she saw it.
On the kitchen table, lay a perfect wild red rose.
Her body went completely numb for a few moments and before she consciously knew it, she was walking over to the table. Slowly, she picked up the rose, examining it with a pounding heart.
"H-How…?"
The rose was identical to the other two that someone had left for her.
But that someone hadn't been Louisa or Leon.
It couldn't have been her mother either.
All of a sudden, Cassidy felt as though she had been engulfed in ice- her body suddenly seizing as she realised with horror…
…there was only one other person in the museum who could have possibly known…or who could have possibly overheard…what her favourite flower was.
Dropping the rose, she turned around, only to see Michael.
Towering over her.
Head craned down to look at her.
Eyes glowering.
Hands adorned by claws and reaching out for her throat.
Mouth open in a silent roar- displaying his jagged, knife-like teeth.
Cassidy stood beneath him, shaking, defenceless and terrified- her eyes wide open.
She was too frightened to scream this time.
He had her trapped. There was no way she could have run. There was no way for her to fight back.
So Cassidy did the only thing that it was possible for her to do.
She closed her eyes and started to pray.
"Angel sent by God to guide me, be my light and walk beside me…"
To her surprise, instead of flesh-tearing claws, she felt a cool-skinned palm touch her bare collar-bone.
There was a sudden rush of warm air that seemed to consume her body completely.
When she opened her eyes again, the first thing she noticed was that it was raining.