A Toy With Wings

Seventeen

Oh God. Jezebel can't be serious…can she?

"Well, I, uh…" I seriously don't know how to answer. I'm just sixteen, and I don't watch romance movies, so I have no clue. "I don't know. What kind of person is Amber?"

"Well, she's not very materialistic, so I thought that a thin, but lavishly carved one would do," she says, and now, and only now, I start to notice patterns in the ring.

"Jezebel, I suggest that you just get down on one knee and say it straight," I say. "I'll be there for mental support."

"Thanks," replies Jezebel, and she tiredly fingers her hair.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Kind of."

"What's bugging you?"

Jezebel sighs. "There won't be much of a war."

"Huh?" I'm confused as hell.

"I eavesdropped on the All-Father. He mentions that all the Underworldians will have to enter through the entrance hall. He'll have it deliberately rigged so that when they're all in, the room will flood itself with quicksand."

"Sounds like a good battle tactic," I sigh. Maybe there won't be that many deaths as I anticipated after all.

"The problem is, there's a switch to send in the quicksand, and it's inside the entrance hall. There will be at least one death, and there will be a sacrifice."

"Oh." Almost immediately, I hope I'm not the one being sacrificed. Almost immediately, I mentally scold myself for my selfishness.

"We'll have a meeting tomorrow," Jezebel says miserably. "Every angel will be there. If no one sacrifices, then the death will be randomly drawn."

I sigh. Maybe this tactic wasn't as good as I first thought.

We're silent for another while. "Truth or dare?" she asks me, half-heartedly.

"Truth, I'm too lazy to do a dare right now."

"Okay," Jezebel smiles. "Would you volunteer as the sacrifice?"

Well…I can't lie, can I?

Ashamedly, I shake my head.

Jezebel smiles. "You're pretty honest."

I sigh and put down my quill. "I'm going to sleep."

"G'night," she replies.

And almost immediately, I fall asleep right on the spot.

The next morning, I'm woken by Jezebel.

"Hey. I had your tea. Hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind," I reply coldly.

"The taste is decent, but it's a little too hot for my taste. I scalded my tongue."

"Whatever."

Jezebel sighed. "Orson, you're worried about the sacrifice, right?"

I feel my temper rising. She's so annoying. "And what if I am?"

"Your odds of being chosen are one in thousands, maybe even one in ten thousands. Don't worry."

"Tell me something I don't know," I snap at her.

"Fine! Orson Goldbloom, I thought I'd seen Hitler, I thought I'd seen Ted Bundy, but you're incredibly selfish!" Jezebel roared. "And you call yourself an angel!"

"Fuck off!" I don't know why I'm irritated, I'm just yelling because she yelled first.

"Slience in the library!" the librarian shouts, but we pay no attention.

"Go fuck yourself!" she yelled back.

"You're insane!"

"Yeah, maybe I am!" she snarls. "For trusting you with my engagements! I'd like my letter back, thank you."

"No," I snap at her. I produce Jezebel's priceless letter from my pocket.

I don't even remember why I got so fucking pissed. My mind was doing nothing, except maybe steam with fury. I ripped up her precious letter and cast it into the trash can.

"You son of a bitch!" Jezebel drew an ordinary knife; her spear was too long to carry around.

"NO WEAPONS IN THE LIBRARY! OUT, NOW!" the librarian is mad at us.

Pish, I guess.

I leave the scene almost immediately.

For some reason, I actually ran into the middle of Jezebel's proposal to Amber.

Amber doesn't deny loving Jezebel, but despite that, she refuses, saying that she's too young, and she wouldn't die in the good v.s. evil fight in two days anyway.

"I'm sorry," Amber tells Jezebel, and excuses herself.

Silly bitch. Was she seriously expecting Amber to accept?

That night, the All-Father gathers every angel of the organization for a feast. He blesses the food, explains the battle plan, and with a heavy heart, asks for volunteers.

I ask, "Sir, we're angels. Can we even die?"

"Yes, we can," the All-Father sighs. "And only then can we fully pass into the place we call Heaven, or be reborn. Angels who serve the organization have been rumoured to be impure humans: they have to serve the organization to prove that they are good, and then they can enjoy a life of peace and happiness." He turns to the rest of us hopefully, but nobody volunteers.

The All-Father waves his hand, and a burlap sack appears in it. "This sack is filled with rose petals. They are all white, except for one petal that is black. One by one, we shall all choose a petal from the sack at random. The angel who picks the black petal…"

He doesn't have to finish his sentence. The person who gets the black petal has to die.

The All-Father goes first. Covering his eyes, he picks out a single petal. White.

One by one, we all pick petals out of the bag. The ones we pick are all white.

Jezebel reaches her hand into the sack, and she fishes out a white petal. Damn. The same goes on for Amber and about a hundred others.

Kev is next, and to my relief, the petal he picks is white. And then, it's Evangeline's turn.

I actually find myself worrying about her, the girl I hate. She's pale, but she sighs in relief as she gazes at a little white petal.

After several others, including Gabby and Angela, nobody has picked out the black petal yet.

Next is Goodie. Despite him being an obnoxious brat, I feel that we had a connection of some sort, and I desperately hope it's not him. White.

His fellow little psychopaths all pick petals from the sack. All white.

And then it's me. I draw one out, hoping selfishly that my petal is white, not black.

It's black. I have to sacrifice myself for God-knows-how-many strangers.

I'm seriously starting to sweat profusely, and my shock gets even more extreme when a female voice calls out, "Fuck, I'll do it! I don't have anything to live for anyway!"

And the fact that our new volunteer is Jezebel almost makes me pass out from shock.