Chapter Text
Every person in the world is capable of good and bad. Its a matter of choice which one gets expressed. Often people choose to be good thinking it'll get them divine rewards or it gives them a sense of superiority.
A rush of warmth that fills their chest at simply knowing they made another person's life easier through their actions.
For some, there is no reason to be good, its innate. A default state. You do good and there is no reward.
However there are the fair few that believe in supernatural beings of good that guide the living through their moral debates.
Angels
Guardians of good descended upon all humans dressed in white robes and whispers gently in ears of the faithful, even the faithless.
It's a belief that grown adults tell children to make them conscious of their decisions. To know that someone watches over them constantly, pressing for them to always choose the better option.
Expect its not make belief.
Its true.
Angels look nothing like their faithful depictions though. Sure, they dawn silken fabrics of pure white and they have mighty wings that flap ever so gently that it caresses the breeze that passes through each individual soft feather.
But thats as far as the comparisons go. Some have wheels that are littered with eyes looking in each and every direction. Some have multiple appendages that block away anything evil. A few dont even have torso that make any sort of sense!
Amalgamations of pure horror that make you question their goal of ensuring every person on earth does good.
There is one on behind every shoulder. A silent helper that follows the normal person wherever they are. Some whisperes get ignored though and the horror called 'Angel' would shake its.. head? In defeat. Its hard to say its a head when its bent and twisted in ways that are definitely not natural.
Another fact about them is that no one can see them! Now a single soul. Definitely not.
Keep your head low at all times.
They can NOT know that you see them.
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Emma Carter walked her usual path to the studio with her head hung low. Once again she has less than 4 hours of sleep and unruly hair. A barely put together work outfit consisting of a wrinkled brown pencil skirt and a wrongly buttoned blazer of the same state and color. She made sure to spend the little time she had that morning concealing the scabbing mark around her neck. Its not a pretty sight and people often liked to stare.
She deliberately ignored the calls her workphone was vibrating in her purse. She could not listen to the ratty voice of her boss this early into her commute and rightfully sighed as she crumbled on her train seat.
Her only saving grace being that its early and most working adults were too tired, much like her, to care about her conduct on the public transport vehicle.
Her head remained low as she tried to ignore the presence of these so called 'guardians' present around her. Just looming over the shoulder of their owners. They dont whisper much when their respective humans are not doing anything that could imply a moral choice.
Emma knew, of course, that only she could see them. How?
No one who looks over their shoulder looks terrified despite the angels that just floats on behind them.
She hadn't yet mustered the courage to look over her own shoulder since the incident. Too scared to see the thing that trailed after her and would occasionally whisper good choices into her ear.
The angel means no harm, yet the thought of seeing the divine twisted horror kept her head hanging perpetually low. It serves as a distraction as well from the roaming thoughts.
Today was no different. She'll accidentally sleep in, rush to her commute, sit on the train for 20 minutes. Then Emma would work for the remaining hours of daylight unless she volunteered to work overtime, but rarely does she.
Her hand flitted with the loose string of her blazer. She needs to; lest she end up scratching a new trail of red down her neck. She stood as the train reached its port and the passengers quietly piled out.
Then a crash happened. Followed by distressed calls.
Frantic eyes searched the platform as just at the near end stood a woman held at the end of a barrel while the masked man told everyone to calm down in strings of inappropriate terms.
Panicked was a normal reaction. Angels hovered worriedly over their owners. The brave few that choose to confront the masked stranger had their guardians working over time in their duty of protection.
Not all people are brave though. Not Emma. Some are cowardly and turn right around to save themselves. Some are like Emma.
So she stepped back and heard a whisper. In her distress she made the worst mistake she could've done.
As yells and panicked negotiations rang just to her left, there she froze as she stared at her angel. Strangers might've wondered if she was seeing a divine intervention or even maybe a ghost. They're too busy assessing and stressing over the more presisng situation though.
Her gaze pulled high as she stared at the Angel and it realized it noticed her.
She couldn't hear the world around her, and maybe her face a were few shades fairer as she came face to face with the portrait that hunted her dreams and nightmares alike. The kindest person in all the galaxies and heavens. Though now she floated fairer than ever and a black rectangle covered her eyes. Her head tilted in curiosity and a small smile graced her lips.
Emma's angel, fittingly enough, was her bestfriend, Angel Luciena.