Death Angel From A Quiet Place Novels & Stories

And then a shadow passes overhead, blocking my view of the heavens. Dalton looks down at me as he kneels, his hand warm against my cheek. I realize with a start that I’m lying in the back of one of the volunteer firemen’s truck, the metal hard and solid against my spine. I lock eyes with Dalton. My chest strains, but I’m unable to breathe. Is this Dalton? Or Amos? “Angel,” he whispers, his voice ragged and choked. “Well, I’d say you were her guardian angel tonight, sir. You got here just in the nick of time.”

Tap. "Finally, you also found a wayward soul." The voice stopped Ardina's footsteps who is not too far from her hiding place. And at the moment Ardina's head looked up, her heart was pounding fast. It's tighter than before. Ardina's eyes were also wide open, just like her mouth was already gaping. The grim reaper's hearing and smell were twice as sharp as that of a bloodhound. The intimidating and cold gaze Ardina felt from his gaze. "M-Mr-A-Angel of death ??" Ardina said after then fell silent. Doubt. She doesn't know what else to say. Between fear, amazement, and...

— What kind of education did your family give you? That it was enough not to kill a person. The stranger was paralyzed. His loose back was the only sight I had. — Are you deaf, by any chance? Shut up, Angel. I don't know where the courage to say those words came from, but regret hit as soon as my brain processed them. He turned around at once, staring at me with an enigmatic, static, cold, yet familiar look.

"No! I am not going to do anything until you tell me–holy freaking sh*t!" Ethan accidentally pushed a human-sized angel statue beside the fireplace. They heard clicking sounds before the angel statue slide aside with the wall behind it, revealing a stair leading somewhere down. None of them was able to react for a full minute. Their eyes just kept shifting back forth from each other, both riddled with confusion. "What is this place?" Ethan exclaimed while scanning the spacious room that is filled with all kinds of weird stuff. "I have never seen these things before in my life." Andra stated with astonishment.

“But you know what I do to traitors, Parker? I don't show mercy. And you betrayed me.” Parker's face drained of color. “Please, no,” he whimpered. David's expression darkened. “I'm sorry, Parker. It's time to pay for your sins.” With a cold smile, he aimed his gun and fired a single shot, putting an end to Parker's life.

Grey. He didn’t speak immediately. Didn’t interrupt. He walked around the table slowly, carefully, like he understood the weight of the room. The conversation continued, but my attention shifted. Just slightly. Not obvious. Never obvious. Grey stopped beside me. Close enough. Then leaned in slightly, just enough for only me to hear. His voice was low, barely above a whisper. “Angel has been taken.” Silence. Not in the room, no. In me. Everything else continued, voices, arguments, plans, but that one sentence cut through all of it. Clean. Sharp. Final.

I made a face at the memory. Azrael. Almost as old as Heaven, older than the World; the record-keeper for the lives of the departed, he was not an entity I would ever dream of saying "No" to. You might forget who he was, might be swept in by his neat, meticulous, ordered way and his minor vanity of the tailored off-white Armani suit... But he was the Angel of Death, and he could be terrifying when crossed. Oh well. Time to go. I paused, concentrated, shifted... my wings beating downwards, the powerful thrust driving me slantwise through the dream of existence from the clear morning of Memphis to the overcast just-about-lunch of my beloved Wales.

She probed. “He… hates light…?”Responded Azriel. Shirley nodded in agreement. “There’s no shadow when there’s light….” Ackermann finally figured. They replayed the footage again to be sure, and after a few, they became absolutely certain. It was small; Very small indeed, but it was something to them because it was the first they found something on him. Just like that, they’d found the Angel of death’s weakness. A killer who did well to avoid the top agents of the FBI for so long had finally slipped.

Amy didn’t shout, didn’t give warning, her fingers were already pressing into the trigger before their eyes adjusted BANG. One down neck shot, blood splattering the metal wall like a sick painting. BANG. BANG. Two more — down before they realized the angel of death wore heels. The youngest girl screamed as bullets shredded through the air. Amy ducked low, her body shielding her like instinct. Another man lunged — too slow. She turned, fired, his brains hit the floor first. The last shot rang out as one of the men lifted his hand not in surrender, but hesitation. Amy didn’t gamble with hesitation, the velvet fell from the gun like a promise broken. She stood straight, gun smoking. Her face un

“I….. I don’t know how to show my gratitude to you two fo…. For giving me this life, a…. and sacrificing your life so that I could live, but the thing that I know very well is…. Is that I am not going to spare any of those evils who are responsible for your deaths. The only mission of my life from now on is ….. is to send those evil creatures to hell, an…. And make this world a better place to live for all the innocent people.” Angel was so overwhelmed with her sorrow that her voice continued raising with every word coming out of her mouth. She wanted to go forward and hugged both Ava and Madeline, but she was afraid. They were still inside that transparent box. Angel understood that their b