Word Count: 718
New York was not quite as Lottie remembered it. It was still an enormous bi-product of a universe based on material objects, where the main priority was cramming as many people and buildings into the smallest space possible. Naturally, the apocolypse was having an impact on its stacked-up skyscrapers and once prostinely paved sidewalks.
She glanced over her shoulder at her company of one. He was a Dark Angel named Dorian. Lottie recognized him, but they'd never spoken before. They'd barely exchanged names before crossing the gate to Earth. However, on hearing Lottie's name, he'd simply muttered that he already knew...
"They weren't kidding, were they?" said Dorian, eyes wide with horror as he took in the scene. His hair was golden orange, his eyes pale blue. Lottie thought he looked frightened - soft. He didn't have it in him to be a Dark Angel.
"You thought they were?" Lottie asked him, arching an eyebrow. "You're not in Cansas, Dorian."
"I know I'm not. Cansas doesn't smell like fucking Daemons."
Lottie's stomach cramped as he brought up the elephant in the room. Her senses had so far thrown a front against the ungodly stench of Daemons. And now it flowed into her system like putrid acid. And now suddenly, she was back there again - the weight pressing down on her, the pain, the inability to scream -
"Wouldn't count on that," she muttered, snapping herself out of her thoughts and pushing them to a far corner of her mind.
Out of the silence came the roaring of an engine. Lottie and Dorian leapt fromt he streets to avoid an enormous vehicle of some sort. As Dorian tripped and fell, Lottie watched it - had never had interest in human inventions, but that thing was impressive-looking as it tore straight down the streets of New York.
"Shit. What's the hurry?" muttered Dorian, picking himself up from the sidewalk. Lottie scowled. She'd preferred him on the ground. She'd felt taller then.
"We're finding out," she decided.
"There's a hospital, New Jersey General. They've filled it fulla' all kindsa' bombs and guns and bulletproof glass and all sortsa' Black Ops shit!"
This would have sounded horrible - to Lottie it did, but only horrible within reason. She and Dorian clutched the top of the truck, listening through everything to hear what was being said. Lottie's ears were keen, though she wasn't sure how much Dorian was picking up.
An abnormally loud voice broke over all sound - "Tai, we're home," it said.
"Let's go," said Lottie. Dorian nodded and they let go, their wings catching the air and taking them smoothly back, not stopping until they reached the top of a condemned-looking skyscraper in the heart of the city.
Dorian looked sick, and sat himsef down at the edge of the roof, his legs dangling a hundred feet above the ground.
"What do we do?" he asked, his voice shaking. Just like Lottie had thought. He wasn't up for this. Not by a long shot.
"There are humans turning on each other, Dorian. I've never heard of this, have you?"
Dorian shook his head.
Lottie started to pace, walking a little away from where he was perched. "It's not only a small group either. It's happening on a huge scale. The other angels need to know about this." Secretly, a part of Lottie hoped that the gain of this information would win back the credibility of her fellow angels. Not that she wanted it, but it would prove useful for future reference... "Let's head back, Dorian."
She turned back around, but Dorian was gone. Lottie ran back to the edge where he'd been sitting. A huge chunk seemed to have come away from the edge. Lottie leaned over the side. Wings scooping huge gusts of air, she hurtled to the sidewalk, and hopped almost gracefully onto her feet. She stared down her accomplice's body - splattered like a giant bloody asterix on the sidewalk.
Lottie glanced back up at the building, then back at the body. He wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, and Lottie would expect no less of him than to fall from a ten storey building, but this had been no accident.
Carved along what remained of Dorian's flesh - thought Lottie couldn't tell what part of his body it had been - were the words "Go home whore."
Lottie looked up and down the deserted streets. The Daemons were here. They were watching her. And they knew who she was.