Chapter Text
The Angel was panicking. Its first idea was to pick a direction and make its body run as fast as possible, but that would be stupid. It just had a whole meltdown about staying on schedule; it couldn't miss the afternoon conversation. So, it could run after, right? No, because then it wouldn't get to eat that night. It wasn't looking to repeat the hunger incident a second time, either. So, after it ate, could it run? Maybe, but it couldn't run too far, otherwise it would miss its church observation in the morning. On top of that, the Angel wouldn't be done with the whole eating thing until pretty late, and Asriel said he'd be back at his house to begin the hunt by six. The Angel didn't think it had entered town that early even on Wednesday, when its body’s hunger had driven it to try its luck and almost got it caught in the process.
It needed to organize itself.
As far as the Angel knew, the situation was as follows: starting from six o'clock, there would be a group of four people hunting the Angel. The Angel couldn't hide in the forest until at least a couple of hours later, as it couldn't scavenge the diner's trash until it closed for the night. To make matters worse, it couldn't hide too deep into the forest, otherwise it wouldn't be able to get back in time on Saturday morning. Additionally, the four hunters had lived in Hometown for their entire lives, while the Angel… well, it had also lived its whole life there, but eight days was hardly enough time for it to know the area like the back of its body's hand.
The Angel was at a serious disadvantage, was what it was trying to get at. Maybe if it had known in advance–gotten the chance to save some food–everything would've been fine, but its stupid decisions over the last few days had finally come back to bite it.
There was only one solution: the Angel would have to be the stealthiest it had ever been. It needed to get into town while being hunted, sneak to and from the diner as normal, then escape through the forest, all without being seen a single time. The stakes were even higher than normal, since the Angel wasn't just an ill-fitting piece in Hometown's puzzle, but the target of a knock-’em-dead hunt. The Angel was under no illusions that the four could kill it–it hadn't survived the Roaring Knight through luck alone–but their intent was the dangerous part. They were after the Angel, and if they found it, they wouldn't be satisfied with anything less than its death.
Call it paranoid, but the Angel had been on the wrong side of Lightners before; they were just as willing to resort to violence as Darkners when it came down to it. It had been on the wrong side of Kris and December specifically, different though they were. Those were not experiences the Angel ever wanted to repeat.
The Angel’s body gripped the handle of Kris's knife, tucked away safely in its pants.
Calm down.
The Angel forced its body to release its grip on the knife. No matter what happened, the Angel wouldn't hurt anyone. If the situation devolved into violence, it would altogether be less of a disaster if it let itself be killed. Not that the Angel was planning on dying, to be clear. It still had responsibilities.
From there, the Angel's thoughts marched in maddening, unhelpful circles, spurred by the complete lack of anything better to do. The Angel had its body pace back and forth, stretch in different positions, listen to birdsong, and do a dozen other little things that did nothing to distract from its panic.
What it really needed was someone to listen to, but those were in short supply. To be specific, the Angel still had… maybe an hour until there would be another conversation for it to zone out to. Well, not zone out, exactly, because that would imply the Angel wasn't listening intently, but it couldn't think of a better phrase at the moment. ‘Immerse itself in,’ maybe? That sounded stupid.
The Angel wasn't in the best headspace. It turned out that being stuck in a single place for multiple hours while being tormented by the knowledge that it was going to have to move flawlessly through the night if it didn't want its whole plan to fall apart was actually quite draining. It couldn't even blame its body for this one, either, since besides the knife thing it had actually been quite cooperative. This was fear for the future, and that was entirely the Angel's domain.
When, eventually, the first school bell of the afternoon rang, the Angel had its body stop the meaningless activity it had been doing–testing how many times it could jump on one foot (fifty one)–and redirected it to pick through the general chatter for the two voices the Angel cared about. Perhaps its saving grace would be in this final conversation.
It wasn't.
With little else to do, the Angel waited until the sun passed over the horizon and the streets cleared. The only thing it did besides was have its body focus for any signs of the hunting party once it got dark enough that it was probably six o'clock. If there was one thing the Angel was willing to bet on, it was that the hunt would not be a quiet one. In none of its observations of the group had there been a period of silence longer than fifteen seconds.
If the Angel had to guess, the hunt started in the woods around Kris's house. Hopefully, since that was the only place the Angel had been seen, the group would waste much of their time looking for clues in the area. Unfortunately for them, the Angel hadn't even been in that bit of forest before. With any luck, they wouldn’t move their investigation south until the Angel was long gone.
‘Any’ may have been pushing it, though, because the chances of such a blessing seemed lower and lower as time passed. The Angel had never really concerned itself with the exact times of its actions, but it now wondered exactly how late it was when it normally went to the diner. There was no way the diner closed earlier than nine, right? Even if the hunting party wasted time around Kris's house, would they really stay there for three hours without finding a single clue? None of them–sans Asriel, admittedly–seemed particularly patient. And, if not, were they already on their way, scanning the woods around the Holiday manor, approaching, slowly, step-by-step, all while the Angel was forced to wait for a time it could only estimate?
The Angel's body was building within itself a stomach-twisting tension, urging the Angel to let it throw caution to the wind and go into town immediately. If the Angel hadn't already faced the consequences of such an action, it might've been foolish enough to listen. The Angel had, though, and it had made a promise to itself afterwards: it wouldn't let its body control it.
So, the Angel stayed put until there was no doubt that the diner had closed for the night. Then–and only then–did it let its body slink into town. The actions were familiar, and almost soothing, if not for the timer hanging over it like a blade.
The Angel refused to act recklessly, so the trip to the diner ate up another half-hour of its precious time. Once there, the Angel had its body eat as needed. As the minutes ticked on, the Angel allowed its body to scavenge with less care than normal. It would accept the extra suspicion on Saturday.
Once its body informed the Angel that it was nourished sufficiently, it wasted no time getting the heck out of there. The Angel considered trying another–potentially faster–route to the woods, but the diner was practically in the center of town, and trying a new route risked wasting time. It would just go back the way it came, then take off into the forest, passing the shelter on the… way…
What if they investigated the shelter?
…oh no. The Angel had been so focused on its goal of staying hidden that it forgot that its real goal was to keep anyone from entering the shelter. Evading detection, staying alive, and investigating December and Kris were all just means to that end. An end the Angel had put in jeopardy.
The Angel's body rushed back to the south of town, and the Angel hardly had the composure to demand more than the slightest bit of stealth.
It hadn't considered that its actions could push December's disappearance ahead of schedule. Until then, the Angel had only cared about being discovered in the context of losing its ability to investigate her and Kris. But, everything in life was caused by what came before. A child ripping a playing card led to a madman holding his son over the edge of his castle, a woman's fondness for an anime figure led to a loving and explosive relationship, and a TV host’s abandonment issues led to a dear ally revealing the depths of his silent anguish. By altering this week of their lives–and this night in particular–the Angel had lost its guarantee that December wouldn't be in danger of disappearing until a year passed. For all it knew, the group was already at the shelter, poking around, getting curious, wondering if maybe the ‘zombie’ hid away in that hellish place and whether a quick check would be worth it.
They didn't know. None of them knew. It was the Angel's responsibility to keep them away, and it was failing.
A car horn blared, and the Angel's body jumped back, falling over itself and crashing down onto the curb. The car sped past, its driver hidden in the darkness. Even as it disappeared down the street, the Angel's body sat on the curb, eyes wide and glassy. There were little pebbles digging into its hands, burnt raw by the rough, cracked cement.
When… when did the Angel get there? It didn't remember anything of the route its body had taken, much less what spurred it to run out into the path of a car. One moment, its body was taking off from the diner, and the next–
The shelter.
Whatever. Whatever! It would deal with what happened later! The Angel had bigger things to worry about.
Get up!
The Angel's body stumbled to its feet and continued its dash to the shelter, though it made sure the Angel knew it wasn't happy about it.
Don't care.
The final stretch out of town barely took longer than a minute, and the Angel's body wasted no time rushing down the long path to the shelter. As it got closer, the Angel made its body strain its ears for any sign of the hunting party. Nothing. Hope attempted to fill the Angel, but it refused to give in until it was shown proof that the shelter was unentered.
The vague shape of the hill came into sight in the darkness–far out of reach of any light but that of the dim moon–and still there was no sign of the hunting party. The Angel’s body kept running up until it made the final dread-filled steps around the hill.
It was greeted with nothing.
The Angel's body let out a painful breath and stumbled to the doors of the shelter. It leaned against them, covering its face with its hands.
Everything was fine. They hadn't gone into the shelter. The Angel hadn't failed.
The Angel’s body breathed unevenly, and now it was clear that it was shaking like a leaf. It slid to the ground, pulling its knees up to its chest.
Hey– hey, it's– it's fine! I'm– we're fine! We did it! We're safe. We're– please, we're safe, we're safe, we're safe we're safe we'resafewe'resafewe'resafewe'resafe please please please please please stop it I can't I can't I can't–
The Angel’s body wouldn't calm down, and it breathed harder and faster and shorter and it wouldn't
shut up shut up shut up shut up–
The Angel’s body was crying– it was crying! Like everything wasn't alright and they hadn't made it out okay and they weren't safe though their– its hands hurt and its tailbone ached and–
Is this revenge!? Do you hate me!? I'm doing everything I can for us!
Heaving– gasping– stuttering–
Shut up already! I don't care that it hurts! I didn't do anything it wasn't my fault you stepped in the road–
Burning lungs burning eyes burning heart–
stop telling me it hurts I can't do anything about it it's your fault anyway leave me alone I don't care I don't care–
Snot and tears dirtying its scraped hands–
Listen to me! You're my body! Stop being such a baby! Nothing even ha–
“Kris! Get the hell back here!”
Fear.
Get up get up get up get up get up–
Rushed steps grew close, one pair near with more behind. Flashlights shone past the hill, painting the trees in blinding light. The Angel's body fumbled, trying to acquiesce to the Angel's demands but failing miserably.
“Not giving up!” Kris shouted.
“Kris!”
The Angel's body didn't get further than its hands and knees before Kris stepped around the hill. They weren't holding a flashlight, but even through the near impenetrable darkness, the two of them locked eyes.
Kris screamed.
The Angel's body scrambled to its feet and bolted.
“Kris!?” Asriel shouted.
Just as the Angel’s body passed through the treeline, it felt the light of a flashlight fall upon it.
“Holy fuck!” December exclaimed.
“Zombie!” Noelle shrieked.
Run.
“Get back here!” December shouted.
Hoofsteps chased after the Angel, and it wasn't long before another three pairs of steps followed behind.
The Angel forced its body to run as fast as it could, but it was still out of breath from its outburst, and between the dark and its speed it could barely stay on its feet. It was tripped by roots, shoulder-checked by trees, and scraped at by branches as it tried to escape. The Angel could feel its body was moving through momentum more than anything. It couldn't control where it was going, and it knew the inevitable stop was going to be a rough one.
All the while, December's flashlight nipped at its heels, her ability to actually see where she was going keeping her close behind. She was breathing heavily, but she followed with the drive of a starving predator.
The Angel knew all about that. This wasn't the first time they were in this position, December gaining on it slowly but surely in the dark as the Angel tried to escape through territory she knew far better. The Angel's body was losing its balance by the second while December grew closer, her hoofsteps a consistent and pounding drum signaling the end.
Ralsei wasn't there for the Angel this time. No one was going to save it from her blade, shining and shattered like a forgotten nightmare given form. The Angel didn't want to die like this, a scared animal carved in twain by its mocking hunter. It could hear her laughter echoing through the corridors, digging into Kris's skull from every angle. It didn't want this, it wasn't strong enough, it wasn't ready to die–
The Angel's body ran face-first into a tree. There was a crunch, and its body fell back, clutching its nose, screaming so loud to the Angel that it hurt that its vision blanked. December was almost upon it, though, so the Angel fought through its body's agony to force it to at least crawl behind the tree. December’s hoofsteps got close, and the Angel made its body hold its breath.
December slowed. Her steps grew soft, almost careful, though her heavy breathing still gave her away. The flashlight scanned the trees, passing over the Angel's hiding spot as it did.
The Angel made its body cover its mouth, refusing to risk failure. Meanwhile, December stalked closer, not in the right direction but not far off, either. Blood spilled onto its body's hands, pouring from its nose.
“Dess!” Asriel called out.
She froze, but only for a moment. Then, she advanced, her flashlight holding on a few specific trees for longer. The Angel's wasn't one of them.
The Angel’s body hadn't managed to take a real breath beforehand, and it was making that fact known.
December's flashlight landed on the tree to the right of the Angel's.
Its body was struggling, only holding its breath in with the knowledge that there was no other way out.
“Dess! You're scaring Elly half to death!”
December groaned at Asriel's words, only to cut herself off as she seemed to realize her mistake. The flashlight darted around the trees, searching for any sign she'd been revealed. The Angel was surprised she thought she was being stealthy.
Its body’s hold was slipping, but the Angel couldn't do any more than it already was. If December didn't give up, the Angel was going to be discovered.
December refocused on the tree next to the Angel's. She approached.
It was then that Asriel arrived with the other two, only his breathing out of the four steady. “Stop ignoring me, Dess!”
“Shh!” December hissed.
“No! We were supposed to head home fifteen minutes ago. We're not doing this.”
The Angel's body was about to give up.
“It's here, Azzy,” December growled.
“I don't care. We came out here to have fun, not actually hunt something down.”
“Just going to admit that in front of Kris, huh?”
“Don't start with that. What do you even plan to do? Beat it to death with your bat?”
Leave leave leave leave leave–
That stopped December in her tracks, just as she stepped beside the Angel. Her focus was on the tree to the right, as was the light of the flashlight, but she was close enough to touch. Her flashlight was in her left hand, while her bat was gripped in her right.
The Angel’s body looked up at December–her upper half lit by Asriel's flashlight–and saw in her eyes the moment she gave up.
The Angel had survi–
Its body gasped for air, and December swung for the fences.