Tarnished Halo (Angels' Realm Book 2. Published on Amazon) (1st rough draft)

C.T.G. Chapter 1: Ending (Rewritten)

Chapter 1: Ending

"Jezza, Jezza, where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are." I hear his voice echo in the alleyway.

It's pitch black outside and I know I've chosen my stage well. The cover of night is the best time to get away with well, anything. His footsteps are soft, he's trying to catch me unaware, but I'm already prepared for him. I had told him to meet me in this abandoned alleyway that is in between two warehouses in a bad section of town for an apparent reason.

Currently, I am staked out behind a blue dumpster that reeks of trash, but that doesn't stop me from getting what I want, and what I want, is his death.

"Jezza, enough playing these childish games. Either pay what you owe me or there will be consequences." Stan says, his voice comes out a little pitchy towards the end. He is getting anxious.

I owe Stan money because I had wanted to have a place I could call my own since my untimely Fall. I wasn't about to live on the streets, so of course I decided to meet up with a gangster who has more bodyguards than he does children, and right now, he has made a big mistake by coming here alone.

I try to hide a chuckle that escapes past my lips with glee.

Stan thinks that he can scare me. Nothing scares me. Not anymore. Not since I've fallen from the highest place you ever can.

I decide to move, straightening up from my crouched position behind the dumpster, I take a step forward, showing my silhouetted figure to Stan. When I take a glimpse at Stan's face, I see words spiral in a smoky blue, almost like mist curling all around me. However only I can see the words.

Words that speak of what he will do to whom he thinks is nothing but a human girl. If he only knew how strong, how powerful I am, then he wouldn't be thinking such wicked thoughts.

"Threatening me while standing alone in an alleyway is a low blow, even for you Stanley." I say, quirking a smile that he has to squint his eyes to see.

Stanley has seen better days, with his used to be drop dead good looks, or so I can imagine. The scraggly red beard that probably once used to have been shaved, is now overgrown like grass in an abandoned yard. Tall height of about six-two, has made his shoulders hunch over so now he resembles Quasimodo from Notre Dame. Hazel green eyes that probably used to sparkle, now hold only darkness when you look right at him. Stanley seems like he'd probably would've been fit to, kept himself in check by eating a healthy diet. Now, now he just looks like he enjoys eating too much, and getting a beer belly.

The thought of what he could have been and what he is now disgusts me. When I tilt back my head, to better study him, I see a flash of silver.

A butcher knife? He really thinks he can kill me with that little toy of his?

I roll my eyes, fighting the urge to just kill him and get it over with, but I like playing with my toys, almost as much as he likes toying with his victims. Or what he likes to call his 'customers'.

"You've got a lot of nerve owing me so much money. Sweetheart, either you give me what you owe, or we'll have another way you can pay the debt." His eyes flash and words sprawl in the air in front of me, making me blink a few times, but remaining calm.

Lust. Desire. Hatred.

Ah, those three little words that can unwind a man in seconds like a piece of string in a ball of twined up yarn. If I didn't know about wicked men, I'd say he was one of them. Then again, I unfortunately associate with wicked men on a daily basis. Ever since I gave the Code my backside, I haven't looked back.