Word Play 2 (Patreon)

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Word Play
Chapter 2

-VB-

When I woke up the next day, I noticed a new power in my mindscape and then showered. It was only after I showered, ate breakfast at McDonald's across the street, and came back to the relative safety in anonymity of my motel room that I finally took a look at it.

Economy 1. It let me know how the current economy was operating and why, like an amateur economist without detailed reports from other parts of the nation would summarize. In essence, it was a useless power to me.

I sacrificed it and nodded in acknowledgement at the Weak Charge now  stored within me.

But before I did anything else, another power popped into existence within my mind and splashed its existence onto my mindscape.

Splashed because it was Ferry 1. It let me make a tiny rowboat projection that I had to row.

Snorting, I upgraded it to Ferry 2 with the Weak Charge, and then sacrificed it to upgrade Horrify 2 into Horrify 3.

I grinned as all aspects of my power became clearly superhuman. It would also obey me. I knew this for a fact.

If I really wanted to, then I could make a decent imitation of SCP 173, though it wouldn't be as quick, durable, and disgusting as the original. He'll, a Weeping Angel was also something I could make.

Actually, why don't I do just that?

I left the motel and came to an alley. Once I checked there was no window and no one else around us, I made it.

A pale peach statue stood before me, and it was truly a Weeping Angel in front of me. I couldn't sense anything through it. I knew it would be the perfect distraction.

"Go and make the gangsters and villains shit their pants."

And it was gone when I blinked.

-VB-

Jacob stared at the statue of a winged angel with its face covered by its hands.

It stood in the doorway.

"Guys…" he called out without taking his eyes off of the statue that hadn't been there just a few moments ago. "Who ordered a goth statue?"

"What?"

"Who is pranking me right now?!" he asked as he turned around to walk up the stairs.

Grr.

He whirled around at the sound of grinding stone and shrieked.

The statue had moved and stood right behind him.

"Guys, guys, guys! There's a fucking cape! The fucking statue is moving!" he screamed as he backpedaled up the stairs without looking away.

He blinked and it was gone.

He sat at the top of the stairs, continuing to look down… and noticed at the corner made by the first-floor ceiling and the staircase a grey shape.

Daniel was down there.

"Daniel, wake the fuck up!" he shouted. "There's a fucking cape in the house!"

"What?!" Adrian, who had been fucking the drugged-up Winslow girl, shouted as he ran out from the second-floor room. Only half dressed and holding a pistol, he looked at Jacob before rushing downstairs.

Crack.

The grey wing that had been picking out was no longer there, and Adrian was at the bottom of the steps, staring at something in horror.

"Fucking-!" he shouted before he began shooting.

The gunfire flashes briefly blinded Jacob even though he was upstairs, and he blinked while flinching from the deafening crack of the gunfire.

Crack.

And then there was a very different kind of crack.

"NO NO NO NO-!" he shrieked when he saw the angel statue in front of where Adrian used to be.

He blinked as he stood up hurriedly.

And it had turned to face him. Its hands no longer covered the face and it grinned up at him with wide eyes and jagged teeth.

He ran for it.

Grrrrrrrr!

He looked and saw the angel at the top of the stairs, arms reaching towards him.

He opened a door and rushed in, and locked everything.

BAM!

"Ahhh!" he screamed.

The steel door somehow held.

He looked around. This was … oh no.

It was a panic room. There was no way out.

But no way in once the locks were engaged.

He breathed out a sigh of reli-.

BAM!

He jolted and saw the door, and felt his heart drop when he saw the dent.

A huge dent.

BAM!

It got bigger.

There was nothing in this room aside from drugs, money, and … and a phone. His phone.

He quickly opened it and started recording. There was no use calling for help. He was going to fucking die, but he knew a secret.

He pressed record.

"It's an angel. It's a fucking stone statue," he spoke up hoarsely and flinched when the angel slammed into the door again. "It can't move when you're looking at it, but it's fast! It climbed a staircase of Thirty steps in a single second! It can't move while you're looking at it but you can't hurt it! Guns don't work!"

BAM!

"If you see it, then don't blink. Blink and you're dead!"

CRACK.

There was a gap in the door.

And the angel stood on the other side of it, hands on the jagged edges of the broken steel door.

Jacob whimpered as something snapped inside him. Things he didn't know spilled out as if it was from him. He kept his eyes wide open. Tears streamed down and pain wrecked at his eyeballs.

The eyes of the angel.

It could feel it trying to reach into him. Into his mind.

"Don't… don't look at its eyes."

The light above him began to flicker for no reason.

No, there was a reason.

The malevolent angel smiled.

Between one blink of the light and the next, it entered the room.

"God, Jesus, I'm sorry! I repent! I repent! I repent!" he sobbed as he backed up against the wall. "Someone save m-!"

Crack.

Thud.

...

Sergeant Henry stared at the phone, perturbed.

He and his partner Sandt had come to the scene after calls about gunshots had been registered by the BBPD.

"Has anyone seen an angel statue?" he yelled.

"I did," Officer Sandy said from the first floor. "It is out in the -. Hey, where did it go?"

Henry shuddered.

"Are you sure you saw one?" he asked imploringly.

Sandy must have heard it.

"Yeah, why?"

"It might have been a cape. A sick bastard."

Grrr….

He whirled around, gun drawn.

He felt his heart leap into his throat.

On the second floor patio was a stone angel statue with its face covered by its hands.

It hadn't been there just a second ago.

"Sandy! There is a cape! Call the PRT!" he shouted. "Get out of here and if you see a fucking stone angel statue! Keep it in your sight at all times and do not blink!"

He didn't stare at its eyes. The recording said not to. He kept his eyes on its feet and trained his useless gun at it.

He …. He wanted to blink. God, his eyes watered and hurt!

He backed away slowly.

"I called them!" Sandy shouted as she ran up the stairs, the idiot! "What the fuck-?"

"Don't blink! Don't look at its eyes!"

Sandy hurriedly did so, trusting him.

But then they blinked.

The angel was gone.

They hurriedly snapped their eyes from side to side, trying to find it in this second-story corridor.

Nothing.

Henry dropped to his ass and let out a shaky breath. "Fuck…!" he hissed.

"H-hey, Henry. How'd you know?"

He tossed her the dead gangster's phone.

…

"- repent! Somebody save m-!" Crack. Thud.

Armsmaster pressed stop.

"This is the only audio and video evidence of the event."

"A Changer and now this stone statue," Piggot grunted. "I don't believe in coincidences."

"Do you believe it to be the same cape?" Miss Militia asked.

"No evidence for it," Armsmaster hummed. "But possible."

"Put out an arrest warrant. There were four deaths in that drug house, and there will be no more dead if I can help it," Piggot huffed.

Before the meeting adjourned normally, Triumph raised his hand.

"Yes, Triumph?"

"The Seventh Street Cemetery … has a lot of stone angel statues," he muttered with a pale face.

Fuck.