Memories
Summoning Angels
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She sighed at Lobe, rolling her eyes as he raised the Dragon puffer to his lips.
"Really? You honestly think you can have Dragon powers with that?"
He smiled and pressed down. The claws shot out but when he gestured, nothing happened.
"See. You're doing it all wrong. It's like this."
Waves shot out from her hands, pressing down on him, crushing his chest.
"You. Would. Hurt. Eva? You. Would. Kill. Children? I would kill you without a second thought. I should. But I won't. You aren't worth it."
And she turned away, walking out while Scott started planning with Angel for the legal case. Logan looked up, still exhausted from the virus.
"Hey."
"Eva. Is Eva…?"
"She's fine. Soon as they purged the virus. I felt it. She'll be fine."
And Tora collapsed into his arms, physically and mentally exhausted from the problems she had been living with for the last few days.
"They were breaking her. They didn't realise. They were breaking her…"
"No. She was already broken. They were just grinding the shards to dust."
She stood still, eyes fixed on Doreen, who held up the struggling cat.
"She tried to eat Tippy-Toe!"
"JEANNE!"
The cat shrugged. It was mildly amusing, to see the striped cat try to complete a human movement whilst she was being held by her scruff.
"I'm a cat. I try to eat squirrels."
Doreen promptly dropped Jeanne who let out a sharp 'MiaOOOOWWW' She limped over to Tora, her big golden eyes widening.
"She hurt me!"
"Jeanne…"
"What?"
"You're a big cat. Behave."
"But…"
"Jeanne."
The warning tone in her voice made the cat crouch low.
"Sorry I tried to eat Tippy-Toe, Squirrel-Girl."
"It's fine. Just don't do again you little rascal."
The cat shot off, tail fluffed up with embarrassment. Tora scooped up Eva and let Jamie jump onto her feet, arms tightly folded around her legs.
"Dear, I can't walk."
"Sorry Maman."
Jamie moved so he was only clinging onto one leg. Tora walked away, slightly stiffly, head downcast. Doreen stared at her for a second then spoke up.
"Why do you only act like life's worth living when you see them?"
Tora turned, eyebrows furrowed.
"What?"
"Your kids. Most of the time I'd say you verged on suicidal, but when you see them, you light up. It's like they're the only thing that makes life worth living."
Tora stared at the young woman before turning away.
"They are."
"Ah. The reason she survived as long as she did."
"Her children were what kept her alive. And then she found a reason to live again."
"And promptly died."
"Yes, well, it wasn't perfect."
"I can't."
"Stephen, please try."
"It's not like summoning a spirit! The Malach Hamavet is a thousand times more powerful than the Sorcerer Supreme! Azrael and Malach Hamavet are the two true Angels of Death, as in the beings chosen by Mistress Death to represent her on Earth. Azrael is easy to understand! He's simple and straightforward. You cheat death, you die. You take lives, you die. But the Malach Hamavet? She's complex. Her criteria is accepting death, noble sacrifice and the release from pain. There are so few people she comes for. Summoning her is nigh on impossible and the last time a Sorcerer Supreme tried it, she just didn't turn up."
"They can do that?"
"She can do that. Legend says she is half-human, which is the reason she understands sacrifice. A human has the talent to evade a summoning."
"Yes, but the last summoning didn't have me."
"Tora, if I go through with this, I don't want your power involved. She will take offence. I have to be polite. You are basically asking me to go to the door of one of the most powerful beings on the planet and drag her outside. She won't be happy."
"Just do it, Stephen. I need to talk to her. We have unfinished business."
"I dread to think what business you have with an Angel of Death."
"I want to ask about one of her… Never mind."
"They aren't victims, Tora. Those the Malach Hamavet takes are not victims. They are gifted."
"Try telling that to those left behind."
"And she proceeded to mess up."
Hello, you've tried to summon the Malach Hamavet. She's either on the job, off-duty or just plain ignoring you. Unless this message is of 'save the world' importance, please refrain from leaving a message as she really can't be bothered to go through lots of petty wishes to try and find a request to save the world. So either hang up or please leave a message after the cosmic crash of thunder.
They stared at the little bubble of light in the centre of the circle.
"Have we just got the answering-machine?"
"I think we have."
"Not exactly."
They span around and stared at the woman leaning lazily against the wall. Dr Strange gasped in amazement.
"Is that…? Is that…?"
"Hello… Etana."
The tall woman stepped forward and Tora saw the unearthly sense of knowing in her eyes, that made it obvious that for all this being looked like Etana, it wasn't.
"I'm not Etana. I am the soul, the memories. But I am not her. I am the Malach Hamavet. I am the Angel of Death."
Strange was staring at her in amazement.
"Shouldn't you be in the circle?"
She shrugged, an oddly human gesture for the inhuman flicker. It looked like she was made of clear, unbreakable glass, which trapped black and silver flames which flickered and shone.
"Boring. Much more fun to turn up behind them and go boo. BOO!"
Tora was clenching and unclenching her fists, barely controlling her anger.
"You took him. You took him."
"He came willingly. I can't take those who aren't ready to come."
"YOU TOOK HIM!"
The sound of the slap resounded and the angel blinked, her face not moving, no mark from where Tora's hand had impacted.
"He came to me. As will all but you."
"Don't you dare say that!"
"You are no longer one of my Chosen. You have reached the point that death has no meaning for you."
"Stop it."
"I could no more take you than the man who tries desperately to cling onto life. No matter how much you plead, I can never come for you."
"Stop it!"
"I wonder what my blade could do to you. The sword that severs souls. But you don't have one anymore, do you?"
"STOP IT!"
The angel stopped and stared at her.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for what happens next…"
And she faded away as if she had never existed.
"Well, that went well."
Death shrugged.
"She always has been a rather difficult servant. Never doing as she was told. But she always does what should be done."