…the mayor lay on the pavement curled in a ball. He sobbed uncontrollably. Morris grabbed Adam’s hand and pulled him aside. “What the heel just happened here. What is wrong with him?” He rubbed at his cheek furiously, smearing the red and making his cheeks look flushed.
“I don’t understand him, but he needs help.” Adam licked his thumb and attempted to help Morris. Morris brushed his hand away in frustration.
“Get on your bike.”
“What? We can’t just leave him here!” Adam watched Morris flip his leg over the seat and plop down. Adam could tell by his body language that Morris was in a foul mood. “We must at least call for help.”
Morris narrowed his eyes at Adam. “To hell with him!”
Adam sighed heavily and approached the mayor…
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
•
…Adam crouched in front of the mayor and as he reached to place his hand on the tattered polkadot cloth hanging from his shoulder, the mayor smiled. Morris yelled something inaudible beyond the buzzing in Adam’s head. He couldn’t remember slamming his hand in the car door. He had heard the pain was terrible. Was he rising to heaven? Had the pain he felt been the last before his undoing? He could still imperceptibly hear Morris speaking. He felt himself being carried to the bike. He heard the dull roar of the engine, and then a cold blackness settled over him…
•
… Victoriya dipped her fingers in the pooled blood. She eyed the liquid as it dripped from her long nails, watching it sparkle in the moonlight. A spray of confetti ascended as she began to twirl about, every bit the princess, the macabre angel, in a snow globe. She laughed manically…
•
Revealing pointed teeth and a serpents tongue, the clowns laughter rose with her own, while others clapped there hands and hugged in joy as the ground beneath them began to shake "he is here, Klownahelem is here" screamed victoriya as the pool of blood began to bubble and steam a…
•
… rank odour of rancid corndogs, buttered popcorn, cotton candy and other favours drifted and tainted the air. Victoriya stopped spinning and the tornado of colour collapsed. She touched her finger to her rouged lips. A dead silence fell on the gathering. A large pink bubble formed on the surface of the red pool, expanding beyond any reasonable capacity…
•
…swarms of klowna demons stared transfixed at the growing bubble. The maroon colouring collapsed under the elasticity, leaving a warmer pink hue to assume control. Victoriya smiled innocently. Unbeknownst, the president stepped out of his limousine behind them. He glanced down at the sprinkling of confetti on the ground, then at the globe that captivated everyone else…
•
…Warlock released a long sigh. Blasted angels, what was taking them so long? Were they not capable of appearing instantly in a bright flash? A few stones skittered across the ground; Warlocks heavy boot descended with a thud.
The hairs on his neck prickled. He shifted uneasily before peering over his sunglasses in the other direction. Another, much larger silhouette was approaching from the other direction. Warlock fidgeted uncomfortably. He approached his bike, hesitating only a moment when he looked at Lucy, still watching intently the approach of her angels, before swinging his leg over the seat. The engine roared to life and he sped past her. He didn’t look back, instead focusing on the smaller silhouette as he rapidly sped to meet it…
•
… the large black landover roared, the man behind the wheel pushed his sunglasses higher up his nose. His calloused fingers gripped the steering wheel, several large scars glowed red against the pale flush as his grip tightened. A screen on the dashboard hummed quietly. A blue icon appeared, and the device began blipping. The man smiled to himself…
•
The sun swung lower in the sky, kissing the nape of the world; a golden pendant embarrassing the sky into soft shades of rose. A satellite appeared, a lone glass eye looking down. The tarmac was throwing off the last of the heated passion of day, surrendering to the cool embrace of night. A chill crept of Warlock’s spine… as he approached the oncoming bike, the scent of blood became overpowering. Stupid f*cking angels...
•
) grumbled and spat at the ground. These angels were apparently descending at long last…
