If you meet me, have some sympathy 22
Trying to haul myself up in that cramped room, my wings knocked the table over, tipping a bowl of breakfast cereal on to the floor. My target’s eyes were widening in terror but I held a clawed hand up in peace. I knew what was coming and needed him now more than ever.
‘I didn’t mean …’ he stammered.
No, you idiot. You decided to write a program to destroy all evil and thought that Hell would simply roll over. Humans!
‘Doesn’t matter,’ I rasped. ‘There’s worse coming. I’m your only shield now so do exactly what I say.’
There were tell-tale sounds in the distance, like the rumbling of a storm. I peered out through his small unwashed window. We were on the fifth floor of a tower block in a poky flat; just me, my target and his wretched computer. And Theresa nowhere to be found.
If it hadn’t been for you … No matter; too late now.
Looking out over the rooftops, I saw the clouds building up in the east, blotting out what little light had filtered through. Mephisto was on his way and I knew I had to stop running.
Still, I had a plan.