Dark Angel

Jackson Hayes pressed tight against the wall. A dim street light glistened off the blade of his knife. He held it close and waited for his victim to reach the alley entrance where he stood just around the corner.

The intended victim was Aaron Tens. He had just left the all night market where he purchased a pack of cigarettes. Just before he reached the alley entrance he stopped to light one up.

Jackson was tense. He knew his victim was close. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. “It’s cold out. Why am I sweating?” He thought.

His intuition told him something about this encounter wasn’t going to be like the others. For a split second he thought about putting the knife away and moving on. He dismissed it.

Tens stuffed the lighter back into his pocket and took a long drag from his freshly lit cigarette. He savored the caustic smoke as it filled his lungs. He wrapped his long black overcoat tight around his waist, pulled his fedora down snug and continued walking. He knew the moment was close at hand. He loved these late night encounters.

Tens knew his intended mugger, Jackson Hayes. He had been watching him for years. Stealing, rolling drunks and mugging innocent pedestrians like himself. Yes, Arron Tens knew all about Jackson Hayes. Now the time was at hand and Tens would not be denied.

He flicked the cigarette to the curb and slowly walked past the alley entrance fully aware of what awaited him. As expected, he felt the knife at his back and the low voice of his attacker ordering him to hand over his wallet or feel the stab of the blade that now pressed against his spine.

Tens didn't respond. Jackson shoved him forward deeper into the dark alley. “I told you, now I’ll show you.”

Tens turned around to face his attacker. His face showed dim beneath the brim of his hat. “I’ve been waiting for you, Jackson. Your time has come.”

“My time has come? I don’t think you understand. I’m the man with the knife. I’m the man who plans to take your life if you don’t hand over your wallet.”

“No, I don’t think you understand. This is the night of your undoing. This is the very night you were meant to encounter me from the day of your birth. The night of your final demise. The night I take your very soul.” Tens brushed off his hat and threw down his overcoat revealing a pair of enormous black wings.

Jackson instantly knew he should have listened to his gut. He dropped his knife. He tried to run but his feet wouldn’t move. It was as if they were being held in place by some unknown force. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

The dark angel reached out and grabbed Jackson by the throat.

“I’m your worst nightmare. I’m death itself and this very night you are mine.”

***

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