_______________

I woke on the floor in the basement, in total confusion—and darkness.

Our staging lamps weren’t on? The generator must’ve conked out. A chill skittered up my spine. Then how long had I been unconscious? I called, “Bea? Joe?” No answer. I tentatively sat up. “Por Dios, my head!” It was splitting.

I must’ve had some kind of aneurism or something. What else could explain my hallucinations from earlier, my collapse? “Where are you guys?” Yelling magnified the pain in my skull, but I didn’t care. “Answer me. . . .” I trailed off when I heard footsteps in the stairwell. “Guys?” A soft wail sounded in the darkness. Then a deeper one. “Who’s there?”

Fear made my heart thunder, my pulse racing. I would give anything to see! “Who’s down here?” In the dark basement with me.

Some light kicked on, faint at first, then growing stronger. I glanced behind me, trying to find the source—then frowned down at my chest. Lost my breath. “Qué coño es esto?” What the fuck is that?

My flesh . . . it glowed. I was giving off more light than our staging lamps would. My skin grew brighter and brighter.

I craned my head up, lost my breath. Looming over me were two . . . monstruos!

Monsters with weathered and creased faces. Cracked lips. Pale eyes running with pus.

Why were those creatures wearing Bea and Joe’s clothes? “I-Is this a prank?” I gazed from one to the other, disbelieving my eyes. These things were Joe and Bea! “Cariño? Querida?” Bea’s filmy gaze focused on my neck. No, my throat—

Joe lunged for me, sending me flying. “What the hell are you doing?” I smacked the ground, the force stealing my breath.

He leapt atop me; I thrashed, shoving against his big chest. He snared one of my flailing arms. His teeth sank into my skin!

I yelled from the pain. “Joe, why . . . what???” He was sucking my blood!

Bea dropped to her knees and joined him, seizing and biting my other arm.

“Ahh! Why are you . . . you can’t . . .” They were drinking me!

My cordless drill lay on the ground nearby. If I could free one of my arms, I could snag it and bash Bea’s head, then use it on Joe.

No! Everything in me rebelled. I’d rather die than harm them. “Please don’t make me hurt you!” Please stop biting!

Both of them stopped, releasing my skin. Let me go! They dropped my arms.

I scuttled back, thinking, Get away from me, get away. They rose and backed up several steps, their movements almost robotic. As I dragged myself to my feet, they just stood there, swaying slightly in unison. Was I somehow controlling them? Mentally?

I pictured them walking a step back, then a step forward.

They did the same.

I was controlling them! Why was this happening to us? This whole situation seemed supernatural, but I didn’t believe in hocus-pocus bullshit. Maybe they’d been bitten by something rabid down here, a bat or something.

So why was I still glowing?

“I-I’m going to get you to a hospital.” Tears welled in my eyes. “Doctors will make you better.” Then I pictured how others would react to my girlfriend and boyfriend.

Their skin was leathery. Those pale eyes were blank. My blood stained each one’s cracked lips and chin.

The two looked like . . . bloodthirsty zombies. Like I might dress them in costume. But this was real. Right?

Steps sounded in the stairwell once more. More of the leather-faced creatures shuffled inside. Something outside had turned them. Had turned my Bea and Joe.

Into zombies.

I was in an insane asylum. And maybe I belonged here. . . .

Judgment (XX)

Gabriel Arendgast, the Archangel

“I watch you like a hawk.”

A.k.a.: The Seventh Coming, the Guardian Angel, Exalted One, Gabriel of the Light

Powers: Flight, supernatural senses, speed, strength, healing, tracking, and endurance.

Special Skills: Enhanced aiming, swordsmanship.

Weapons: In past games, he wielded the Sword of Right, but it was stolen.

Tableau: An archangel carrying a sword, flying over a mass of bodies.

Icon: A pair of wings.

Unique Arcana Characteristics: Large black wings, talon-tipped fingers. Outdated speech and old-fashioned clothing.

Before Flash: Prophesied to be the reincarnation of the great Arendgast—an errand spirit (more commonly known as an angel). Worshipped by the Sect of Arendgast, a remote, ages-old cult, separated from modern society.

The Mount on High, Canadian Wilds

Day 0

“Are you ready to begin, Exalted One?” the high sectaire asked me, his bushy gray brows raised.

“Yes.” I removed my suit coat, laying it on my bed, then untied my cravat. “I am ready,” I lied. What man of nineteen would be ready for a day like this?

My tone was even despite the dread that threatened to overwhelm me. After removing my vest and fob watch, I drew off my white lawn shirt, taking my time to fold it, my gaze surveying my lantern-lit room, possibly for the last time.

My chambers were the most luxurious in the colony, my bed large enough for half a dozen people. I had countless stacks of books—my only link to the outside world—but they were all ancient. Above my desk was artwork depicting angels falling from the heavens.

Was I about to join them?

I could stall no longer. I straightened and headed toward my door, exiting before the high sectaire. We made our way down the corridor toward the great cavern chamber.