He's My Fallen Angel

"Hey CeCe!" I heard my best friend, Emma, squeal in excitement and footsteps approached where I stood. I peeked out from behind my locker and spotted her with a smile. "Hey, girl, what's got you so joyous?" I asked, slightly laughing. Her mood has always been so contagious. "Only that tomorrow is Saturday! My Halloween Party, duh! How could you forget? It's all I've been thinking about," she giggled, her eyes widening as she glanced behind me, "oh my god, that reminds me, have you heard about what happened to Christian last night?" I furrowed my eyebrows, turning my attention back to the inside of my locker and gathering specifically the homework into my book-bag, then removing the books to the top shelf, "Harry Potter Christian? No, I don't keep tabs on everyone like you," I joked, shaking my head, and she rolled her eyes. "He was attacked by, like, four or five different burly guys. I heard it was a gang. He said they had matching tattoos on their necks but he couldn't identify any faces," she whispered. I followed her eyes to my left and saw Christian leaned in his locker like he was hiding. I also noticed we weren't the only two staring at him. "You want to know what I think?" She asked, leaning closer to be doubly sure nobody could hear, "I think it was the Angels of Death." I shivered at the name, remembering the nightmares I used to have of them before giving her a side eye and forcing a smile, "they don't exist, Em. It was a story made up by some teens to scare everyone, even if it wasn't, why would people that powerful ever pass a glance at this town? Our population is hardly over a thousand, meaning we're nothing to them." She shook her head at me, clearly disagreeing with my belief, "just be safe on your way home and stay in for the night, alright? For my sake?" It was my turn to roll my eyes, zipping my bag and pulling it out of the locker. I closed the door and swung a strap over my shoulder as we began our walk to the doors. "Fine," I huffed, pushing open the door then we went down the stairs and stopped by the sidewalk. People passed by us going to their cars, buses, and parents, all heading to the same destination: home. "Thank you!" She chirped, "you and Dave are still coming tomorrow, right? It's going to be epic!" A smile found its way back to my lips, "obviously! You're my best friend and I love parties, we would never miss it." She cheered then hugged me, moving back and waving, "I'll see you at eight!" I waved back, parting ways with her and heading to my car. Though for some odd reason, a bad feeling remained in my gut after her mentioning the Angels of Death. It was a feeling I couldn't shake as I threw my bag in the backseat and got in, turning on my engine and pulling out of the parking spot. When I first heard of them, I was probably around nine and I'd have horrible nightmares of them coming for me. It was so bad that my parents had to take me to get professional help. I got over it after spending nearly two years in the psychiatric ward. Rumor says that wherever they go, bodies drop. Nobody has ever seen them and survived, so there's no way Christian had that encounter. Nerdy kids do and say anything to be cool. If only everyone wasn't so gullible. They're all stories, that's all they ever will be, so why am I still affected by it? I arrived home and pulled into my driveway, turning off my car and taking a deep breath. It's all in my head. I'm an eighteen-year-old senior in high school, that's what's real, not those ludicrous stories. Stepping out of my car, I went to the back and grabbed my bag then closed the door and made my way inside. I spotted my dad standing over the kitchen counter, drinking a can of beer with a distressed look on his face. I scrunched my eyebrows as I approached him, "you're home early..." I trailed off, catching his attention and he quickly shoved the can into the sink. "Hey, honey," he smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes and worry formed in my stomach. "What's wrong? And why are you drinking? You haven't drank in three years," I frowned. He returned it. "I'm just behind in bills is all," he brushed me off, forcing yet another smile, "I wish I could stop you from growing up." He came over and hugged me, yet something about the hug made the feeling in my gut worse and I continued to frown at him. He let me go and looked to the stove, reading the time then looking back at me. "Why don't you go up to your room? Must've been a busy day at school, you should take a nap," he suggested. I wanted to object to his strange behavior but I didn't want to upset him further so I nodded. As I started walking up the stairs, his voice stopped me, "I love you, Celina." "I love you too," I replied, more concern filled me and I forced myself to make it up the stairs into my room. He hasn't told me he's loved me since mom died. Tossing my bag to the floor, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Emma. ‘I'm home safe if you're over there worrying. Lol!’ I closed the door and plopped my back onto the bed, watching her type a response. ‘I most certainly was. Oh, and Byron says hi.’ I smiled, remembering her youngest cousin who has the biggest crush on me. He's the cockiest six-year-old I've ever met, and it's so adorable. ‘Tell him I said hi.’ A crash startled me into a sitting position and my heart raced in my chest, the horrible feeling churning in my gut didn't ease. Panic and fear overtook my body as I looked at the door. I sneakily made my way over and opened it, looking both ways in the hall but finding nothing, so I left the room and hesitantly looked down the stairs. There were men dressed in black and faint voices. "Do I need to remind you that you owe me seventy-five hundred dollars, Mr. Fallon? I gave you a loan and plenty of time to reimburse it. Where is my payment?" A deep, rough voice, leaking with anything but patience, asked calmly. The hairs on the back of my neck raised in terror. "I-I don't-" A loud thud sent another wave of panic through me and I snapped, running down the stairs fearing for my dad's safety, my feet landing on the carpet beneath at the bottom with a thud and regret flooded in instantly when I noticed everyone was staring directly at me. There were five men dressed in all black. Their faces were covered with masks and their tight, long-sleeved shirts hugged their huge muscles, and on the side of their necks was a shared tattoo of a skull with wings. "Celina! I told you to stay in your room!" My dad scolded me. He was bleeding from his lip and I placed a foot back on the steps ready to run. "What's happening?" I asked, my eyes bouncing on each of the men in the room with panic, "who are these people?" "Bring her to me," the man across from my dad demanded. I turned to run but hands restrained me from moving. One of the other men effortlessly brought me to who I assume to be the leader and handed me over, my body froze as he analyzed me and all I was able to do was stare into his entrancing gray eyes. "I'll accept your lovely daughter as full payment." He reached in his pocket, and before I knew it, a loud bang hit the walls and I broke out of my frozen state when I saw my dad drop to the floor. There were chunks of blood splattered across the couch and the wall behind it. My mouth fell agape as water filled my eyes, shock quickly consuming me, then I jumped to the floor after pushing my way out of his loose hold. Small weeps emitted from my throat and I pulled his body to my lap, getting a better look at his face and bursting into loud sobs at the sight. "No! You can't leave me!" I cried, caressing his face and his blood covered me hastily. My eyes averted to the man who shot him, my sobbing worsened, "why? Why did you take him from me? He's all I have! I'm too young to be alone! You can't do this to me..." He stared into my eyes blankly for a minute longer, moving his gaze to his men, "take her," he ordered, unfazed by my distress. I clenched onto my dad’s body, struggling to catch a breath while choking on my tears. I want to go back in time. I want to erase this whole day and have it never happen. Everything was supposed to be okay. I was supposed to graduate and have a nice life. My dad was going to be there to tell me how proud he was, to tell me if I ever needed anything that he'll be one call away, to be there if Dave and I ever decided to marry, to be the man to walk me down the aisle and tell me how beautiful I am. It took mere seconds for all of it to crumble. My life is ruined, and I'm just a kid. Hands grabbed my biceps and I hugged my dad's head, fighting their pull but failing when one of the men forced me to face him and slapped me roughly. It silenced my weeps, pure shock washed over me and everyone watched him place a black cloth over my head. It blacked out my vision completely then he yanked me to my feet, making me wince. Nothing he did was at all gentle. Am I going to die too? "Get her back to the house. I'll be there when I'm finished cleaning this mess." "That's my dad! He isn't some trash!" I screamed, sniffling, but regretted the choice when something hard bashed into my face. I fell back into one of the many men at the impact just as my world turned into nothingness.