Word Count: 586
Picking her way through all the dirt and rubble, Tara couldn't help but wonder where it had all gone so wrong. She could remember a time before any of this that it was completely safe to roam the streets without a fear of being attacked by those...things. Everything used to be so ordinary. It was boring and dull, but it was secure. Now it had all changed and every corner she turned, Tara had to be careful that she wasn't ambushed.
She found herself in an abandoned section of town; the buildings were grimy and towered over her; discarded newspapers fluttered across the concrete and the stench of garbage hung thick in the air, seeming to cling to every inch of her skin. She scrunched her nose up and deliberated turning round again when something caught her attention.
Something in the sky was plummeting towards the ground at an alarming pace. Tara didn’t even have time to think before it crashed into the ground, sending dust and bits of debris exploding upwards, clouding her vision. She stumbled back a few steps from the impact, immediately on full alert. Pulling the small .45 calibre weapon from the waistband of her trousers, she aimed it straight ahead where dust still obscured her view of whatever had just fallen.
She took a shaky step forward, preparing herself. She didn’t know how much use a gun would be and she was ready to run at the first sign of danger.
The air was slow to clear and Tara found her grip on the gun shaking. Why, she thought to herself. Why me? Why can't I be one of those few blissfully unaware humans that still go about their everyday tasks like demons aren't taking over? Angry and frightened, she sidestepped round, hiding herself partially behind a nearby car.
She could see the effect the impact had caused. The concrete was cracked and indented, like a giant bowl, with the damage spanning over ten feet wide. As the powder seemed to spread along the ground, Tara got a good look at the reason behind why she was now huddled behind a car. Normally she was brave, never one to hold back. But something about this situation made her hesitant.
A figure slowly stood up, an agonized cry emerging from him - she could make out the broad shoulders and tall build of a male - as something at his sides seemed to shrink closer to his spine. With a startled gasp, Tara realized they were wings. Actual wings. An angel? An angel fallen from Heaven? She felt dizzy and leaned her entire weight against the car to stop herself from passing out. She had seen hideous things in the past few months, all kinds of demons imaginable, the very things that nightmares are made of. She had seen shape-shifters posing as stunningly enticing humans, to lure their prey in. She had seen the evil that didn't bother to hide their true hauntingly ghastly forms as they devoured their victims alive.
But never had she seen something like this.
An actual angel. It was completely and utterly surreal.
Casting her eyes slowly back to the figure, she couldn't help but marvel at what she saw. He was striking in every sense possible. A lean, muscular body now seemingly poised for attack turned to face his surroundings. She could make out dark grey eyes set in an impenetrable iron stare. She automatically shrunk back, certain that he could detect her. Instead, he turned round and started walking away.
A wild sense of panic overwhelmed her.
She began to follow him.