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  ANGEL DESCENDING

  A DOWNFALL NOVEL

  BY ETHAN A. COOPER

  Downfall Novels

  Angel Descending

  Young Adult

  What Happened On My Space Vacation

  Horror

  Phidlestix/Phidlestixx/Phidlestixxx

  Horripilations Unearthed (with Benjie Cooper)

  ANGEL DESCENDING

  A DOWNFALL NOVEL

  BY

  ETHAN A. COOPER

  Zion Storm Studios

  ZION STORM STUDIOS

  ANGEL DESCENDING

  A DOWNFALL NOVEL

  Text and illustrations copyright © 2018 by Ethan A. Cooper

  Cover illustration copyright © 2018 by Jock Hardesty

  Earth 2195 map based on original design by Benjaman Thornton

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing by the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition (1.0)

  (this novel is dedicated)

  (to my)

  (friends benjaman)

  (thornton and mike)

  (uchida who have been with me since that

  first

  terrible

  bzzzzzZZZZt!!!!!

  moment

  when

  cyberspace)

  (fell)

  CONTENTS

  ANGEL DESCENDING

  BY ETHAN A. COOPER

  CONTENTS

  EARTH 2195

  THE WORLD OF DOWNFALL

  THE ALLEY

  2/Static

  3/A Cleansing

  THE COVEN

  4/In This Hour, Witches

  5/Revelation During Osculation

  6/Disconnected

  7/Two Somethings

  THE SLAUGHTERING BEASTS

  8/First Fall

  9/Second Requiem

  10/Third Twilight

  11/Fourth Fate

  12/Last Lives

  IN THE HIDEOUT

  13/Warrior

  14/Witch

  15/Wretch

  16/Wound

  BLUE ANGEL DESCENDING: HEAVEN CITYSCAPE NIGHTMARES

  17/Prologue

  18/Darkopolis

  19/Calamity (i)

  20/Serpentblood

  21/Molested

  22/Descending (i)

  BLUE ANGEL DESCENDING: DEATH HAUNT DAYDREAMS

  23/An Interlude

  24/The Guardian

  25/Calamity (ii)

  26/Written On Flesh

  27/Broken Circuitstreams

  28/Descending (ii)

  BLUE ANGEL DESCENDING: HELL GRAVE CHILLS

  29/Another Interlude

  30/Rumbles, Trembles, Tremors

  31/Calamity (iii)

  32/Reunion

  33/(2)Syl Gets Kissed

  34/Descending (iii)

  THE LONGEST HOUR OF THE DESCENDED ANGEL

  35/Strip

  36/Purge

  37/Cleanse

  38/Shackle

  39/Shock

  40/Break

  41/Interrogate

  42/Submit

  43/Survive

  44/Escape

  45/Defeat

  46/Betray

  47/Hour’s End

  DRIFTING WITH THE BLEED

  48/Descent

  49/Detonation

  50/Discovery

  51/Duplication

  52/Dissolution

  OBLITERATION

  53/A Train In The Sky [T-minus 7]

  54/Phoenix [T-minus 6]

  55/Return Of The Witch [T-minus 5]

  56/Eoapocalypse [T-minus 4]

  57/One Shall Fall [T-minus 3]

  58/Course Correction [T-minus 2]

  59/Plan C [T-minus 1]

  60/Obliterated

  DATABANK

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  EARTH 2195

  THE WORLD OF DOWNFALL

  It is the year 2195.

  Humans live in a broken world. There are technologies beyond your wildest dreams but also creatures from your darkest nightmares. Picture the human race forced to retreat into cities to save itself from its own monstrous constructs. Bioengineering and chemical experimentation have brought out the dark side of creation, and now the created threaten to overcome their creators.

  Cyberspace is a sprawling, virtual universe, connecting everybody to everything. But it is no longer a refuge; some of the horrors of Realspace have adapted and are able to haunt the digital realm.

  In its death throes, humankind has twisted and clawed for salvation, merging with technology in order to adapt and grow. But the marriage of flesh and machine doesn’t come without a cost. For some, the union is overwhelming. Humanity gets lost in the confusion. The world is a frightening place, where the powerful rule, and the innocent stumble and are crushed.

  Welcome to the world of Downfall.

  THE ALLEY

  1/Awake To Black

  2195.12.05/Night

  swirling

  swirling

  swirling

  mind

  and eyes open

  Sensations flooding now. Fingers clawing, nails digging deep into grime. Tingling, stinging pins in legs. Knees to shoulders, back hunched. The fragrance of bare skin; the comfort of flesh on flesh, conserving body heat. Clean, baby-smooth skin. Hair hanging, tangled and knotted, streaks of blue at the periphery of vision. Stench of damp, rotting garbage. Distant echo of thunder. Everything’s wet, asphalt and trash slick beneath me. Vehicles roar in passing. Body’s quivering under the caress of a warm, directionless breeze.

  I’m naked. My foot hurts. I think it’s bleeding.

  My name is (2)Syl. I don’t know where I am.

  Raising my head, looking around, I’m in an alley. There’s a night sky above me, so it’s hard to make out details. Most everything is covered in shadow. Three walls surround me, but there’s dim, flickering light at the far end of the alley. I’m alone, and for now, that’s just fine. Don’t want anybody to see me like this. Like prey.

  Don’t know how I got here. I try to remember, but can’t. Not too secure right now. Standing up seems a perilous course of action. Foot is throbbing. Feels squishy, like every little movement squeezes out blood. Gonna have to look at that in a minute. Legs are almost asleep and back is complaining.

  I wish I had some clothes.

  2/Static

  2195.12.05/Night

  There’s a tremor of cold now. Can feel it creeping up my body, slithering up my spine. I’ll be shuddering and shaking in a few seconds. I should get up, but I don’t want to untangle my limbs, open myself up to the elements and sabotage my body’s heat recirculation. My foot feels like it’s on fire, searing a streak up my leg, right into my brain. Oh, god.

  release

  unfold

  bloom

  Standing now. Nausea. Barely suppress the urge to vomit. Appendages tingle. I bend my neck and clench my eyes, terminating visual input. The stings of a thousand scorpions dance across my legs. Disorientation passes after a few moments. Standing still, I haven’t fallen. The only sound I hear is far away—the hum of dying machinery. Need to open my eyes. Blindness is lethal in a land of predators.

  I open my—bzzzzzZZZZt!!!!!

  Static everywhere! In my brain, in my ears, behind my eyes, bursting over me, through me. Close my eyes again, but the surge continues, f
aster than before. An explosion of random noise, millions of black and white ants scurrying, blinking behind my eyelids. Light and sound. Dark images quickly flickering. My world goes offline. I succumb to the onslaught. Somehow I manage to stay on my feet. I think. Can’t really tell.

  up up

  down down

  confused so

  confused and

  misdirected

  In my mind, visions. Metal and flesh united; an unholy coupling. Data pulsing down evil wires. Pictures. So fast I can’t

  all

  sense

  make

  of

  it!!!!bzzzzzZZZZt!!!!!

  And then it’s gone. Oh, heavenly silence.

  What was that?

  Eyes open. No static now. All is quiet in my shadowy alley. Still alone. I take comfort in that.

  The heavens are crying again, washing my skin with an oily film, filling my nostrils with a putrid odor.

  Don’t know what just happened to me. Scared of finding out. Lots of mind deaths these days. Need to find some shelter. I’m tired of showering in angel tears. Getting cold. Arms around my chest, I can’t stop shivering. Enough, time to leave.

  I take a step, and that’s when the warning siren in my head goes off. Leaking foot wasn’t quite ready for that. It gives, and I go down, discarded boxes and rotting food waiting to embrace me. The ground kisses me, hard. Ouch. There’s pain, sure—probably bleeding somewhere else now—but something else is wrong, unnatural. Second brain-alarm blaring now, louder than the first and more insistent.

  A face. I see a face.

  Whoever he is, I’m lying on top of him. Probably bleeding on him—foot feels like it’s gushing a river. Legs and arms tangled, we’re pressed close. I spit something foul out, the gritty taste of corrosion constricting my throat. Definite inebriation here, multiple intoxicants wafting sickly sweetly in the air between us. There’s some sort of slime oozing around my left elbow, gooshy, but also with meatier chunks. Something sharp and cold is poking into my shoulder. But I can’t move because his body is warm, so warm compared to the night. Don’t want to give that up. Got to leave. No. He’s warm, and I’m not shivering any more. Just a few more seconds. No danger yet. Just a few more seconds, please.

  His body didn’t give under my weight. He’s either wearing some body armor, or he’s not normal. Probably the latter.

  He’s waking, and uh oh, he’s definitely not normal. I can see his eyes now: silver, shining spheres. When he shifts his body, I can hear the whine of mechanical components. For a moment I stare, then my hand comes up, touching his face. Don’t know why I did that.

  His scream startles me. Cry of pain, cry of anguish, cry of fright? No way to tell the difference here. I lose control of my body. Leaping off, I’m scrambling for distance. Got to get away. Need to be safe, away from him and his scream. A wall stops my backward progress. Direction. I need direction. The open end of the alley awaits, with brighter lights.

  I stumble away.

  3/A Cleansing

  2195.12.05/Night

  Away.

  Sensations of contact with another fading now, warmth dissipating. Street dim, streetlights flickering, throwing down festering yellow hues. The light entices me, but I refuse. It looks warm, but it’s safer here in the shadows. Better to remain unnoticed if possible. The city’s parasites and leeches are waiting, and flesh farmers are always on the lookout for raw material. Mind tells me that I’m prime raw material. Comforting thought. I won’t end up like that. I won’t be fodder.

  The alley, my womb, to my right. My back against the wall. Chilled, wet metal at my back. No sign that the man from the alley is following me. My fingers are my eyes, spidering along the etched surface behind me. Shivering uncontrollably, muscles begin to ache. Not tired; I just hurt.

  A momentary sense of safety here next to this shadowed wall, so I take a look at my foot. Kneeling, the fiery needles that impale me when I move feel like they have serrated edges. There’s a gash there, running from my arch to my small piggy. Not sure how deep it is, but I can still wiggle my toes. It’s a soup of red and black, blood and grime, infection probably already digging in at the edges. Need to cleanse. Acid rain, my friend, help me now, but don’t let it hurt.

  I don’t even feel the first drops, but then polluted crimson is washed away, rivering through my toes. The skin down there is pink, reddish at the edges, alive. Poison rain cleanses, filling the crevice of the wound. The pain creeps up on me slowly, tickling, prickling at first, but then it feels like my leg gets ripped off. Mind is dumped of everything except the agony of what it must feel like to have a limb amputated without any pain killers.

  cannot scream

  DO

  NOT

  CRY!!!

  oh somebody take it away

  Tears coming now. Fingers rushing to brush the wetness from the wound. Extract the rain, extract the pain. I crumble and let the cold ground take me.

  time passes and time flows and

  I focus and

  I blur and

  I dissolve

  a puddle of fresh red at my foot.

  I lose track of time, but for how long? Head up now, I’m alert. Foot’s still red-flagging me. Danger near? Quick glances left and right. My hair, damp and blue in my eyes. Still alone and cold against the wall. Good. Need to go, find some shelter, anything to get away from here.

  Standing, I realize that I won’t be alone for much longer. Strangers approaching from both directions. No way to tell intentions from here. A place to hide. I need a place to hide. But where? The alley is an option, but that man is still in there. Tall buildings loom, offering no solace. Eyes scanning, requesting an exit. The world’s only reply is an expletive. What’s my direction? Who will save me? Nobody. Have to save myself. Nothing new about that. That’s the way—

  There.

  There’s a door there. It’s close, and it will be my sanctuary. I leap for it, only four seconds away. My foot protests by squirting, but I ignore, limping and clenching. The door is completely smooth; nothing to grab, twist or pull. Strangers are almost in the light now, probably close enough to see me naked and dripping. No way to tell their intentions. Waiting to find out is risky. I’d rather not become spare parts for some fleshwreck’s implant upgrade. They like their raw materials fresh.

  The door is vibrating underneath my fingertips. Pulse shielding. Dammit, I’ll never get through that. Looking, searching for other options, I continue to push on the door. It bends a little, but the vibrations increase. Push a little harderbzzzzzZZZZt!!!!!

  There’s static and dissonance for a second, and then the door gives. I’m falling through the doorway, stumbling backward, inward. Again, I’m on the ground, only it feels different. Carpet. Thin, but it’s real. Hum of the pulse shielding resumes as the door swings closed. Dark in here. Eyes adjusting slowly, but I sense there are others with me in the room. I crawl backward but hit a wall. Looking up, I instantly recognize the danger staring back at me.

  Wirewitches.

  THE COVEN

  4/In This Hour, Witches

  2195.12.06/Night

  I’m prey, and I’ll be dead soon.

  A raindrop slides down my forehead, and I have to clench my left eye.

  The coven stares at me. There’s four of them, no wait, a fifth there in the corner. Looks like the youngest, crouching behind, watching and waiting, curious to see what happens next.

  But, unlike me, they’re manifesting themselves in Cyberspace right now. Don’t need a jack or a console. Existing in Cyberspace and Realspace comes naturally to them. Never mind what people say about splitting your focus between the two realms, they still have an advantage even with only part of their attention directed at me.

  I’m hungry. Stomach rumbles, breaking the silence. It would be humorous if it was another time, and I wasn’t backed up naked against a wall. My stomach doesn’t know I’m about to die. The flesh wants what the flesh wants, and I’m a slave to it. We all ar
e. Unless you’re like the people in front of me. No, shouldn’t refer to them like that. People. Lines separating humanity and technology have crossed. Clear delineation now blurred. The machine in the flesh and the flesh in the machine. The equation is recursive, yet imbalanced. Once you’re caught up in it, you can’t ever get out.

  But wirewitches don’t bother with human equations.

  Even in the low light, their blue skin is apparent to my eyes. Mind shoots me images of what’s underneath all that ridged metaskin. Metallic veins, circulating microscopic technosites throughout their bodies. Inner organs controlled by cellular-sized gears and cogs of flesh and wire. Circuitry weaving between bones and marrow. Muscles contract and release by digital commands. Cold, pupil-less eyes seem to blend in with the rest of their skin. Pale lips open to reveal circuit-splattered teeth. Smooth, bald heads with thick stalks of shiny, elongated hair bristles hanging to the ground. Total body control is possible because every cell is living mechaflesh. Mutation, limb regeneration, muscle enhancement—all at the flick of the mind. The one on the left swishes his long hairstalk back and forth, forth and back.

  The coven is complete. Four females and one male. The crouching youngling is a female. She’s holding her breath in anticipation of what’s going to happen. So am I. The warlock stands behind the other three. He’s probably the most dangerous, but he’s not in charge here. Wirewitch covens are led by females.

  They’re not moving to attack. Something is wrong. Different. Something is different about them. Are they scared? They look scared.

  As if I know what a scared wirewitch looks like.

  I don’t want them scared; I want them calm. Couldn’t fight even one wirewitch, much less a complete coven.