Ash happily gazed at the black doll in his black gloved hand as he twisted it in his fingers. “…What to do with you now…” he thought to himself. “Shall I burn you now, or wait until your precious daughter can watch? Shall I get rid of you now, or display you where you can see me cleanse your daughter?”
“How about you give him back to his daughter?” The sound of the female voice caused the angel to furrow his white brows and turn in his seat from the grand, white and golden, roaring fireplace in front of his shining gold and royal purple throne.
Seeing it was Angela, he only laughed and returned his attention to the fire glowing behind the black doll with a small smile sewn into its face under its blood red eyes. “You cannot fight me, Angela.” he sighed victoriously. “We are the same being, two sides of a single coin, Without me, there is no you.”
The woman shook her head. “We formed our own coins with our own backs the moment you went behind mine.” she growled. She then turned over her shoulder and shouted, “NOW!”
Behind Ash, a cloth bag was wrapped around his neck. Panic filled the male angel as Paul fought to keep the bag on his head and Bard snatched the jar on the side table with a nearly solid figure of a dog too weak to stand, tossing it to Angela. The female angel caught it and ran up the steps of the large mansion.
In all the chaos, Ash’s fingers slipped and the doll fell into the fire. With eyes growing wide, Justine only watched in horror before she hurriedly slurred the tune from her lips.
“Build it up in flesh and blood~
Flesh and blood~
Flesh and blood~
Build it up in flesh and blood~
My fair lady~”
The fire exploded and flared around the room, causing everyone in the room to shield themselves from the light and heat. The fireplace cracked and fell to rubble, causing the fire to extinguish. A series of coughs were heard as the dust was swatted away by a lean, white-gloved hand. “…What is it with angels and dolls?” asked the man in the ruin of the fireplace.
Justine smiled and ran up to her father, hugging him tightly. “Dad!”
Sebastian hugged back fully after pinching small fires that lingered in his hair and clothes. “You did it.” he smiled. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hug you back from the moment you walked in that toy store.”
Ash ripped the bag from his head and growled before slipping off his right glove and placing his thumb and index finger in the corners of his mouth, blowing out a loud, highly pitched whistle.
. . .
Angela searched the rooms for her daughter. When she finally found her, she was still in her coma, lying on the small bed. “…Angel?” she called, sitting on the edge of the mattress and taking in a deep sigh. “…I can only say that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause all these problems for you and your father. Now he needs you. He fell apart. All your father wants is for you to be your own free self. You can’t have that here. You are a prisoner here. Your demonic half is being suppressed, and your angelic half is being controlled like a dog. I can’t do much to make up for all these horrid things I’d done, but what I can do is give you back your demonic half and all your good memories of your father. Your real father.” Aiming it for right next to the teen, the angel got ready to stand back and throw the jar.
Before she could, a loud and highly pitched whistle was heard through the mansion from down the dark oak stairs. Widening her purple eyes in fear, Angela looked back at the door then to the teen on the bed, who quickly responded to the whistle with a cry of pain. “Angel!” the mother cried, hurrying to her side before standing back in fear.
The collar around her neck glowed a bright blue light and Angel’s eyes snapped open and whipped around. Her eyes lost their past golden brown glow and was replaced with a deep lavender with slit pupils. When the purple eyes landed on the woman with white hair, she looked angry but confused. “…Mom?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
Angela raised the jar again, aimed at her daughter’s feet as she stood from the bed. “I came to set everything right.”
To this, Angel smiled a sly grin, spreading her arms victoriously. “What are you talking about?” she chuckled. “Things haven’t been more right!”
“Angel, sweetie,” the mother called warningly. “This isn’t you. You were born to be a demon too, not just an angel. Ash and I were wrong to try to change you.”
Angel took in a deep breath, gaining a look of seriousness. “…If that’s what you truly think, then you’re just like any other demon.” With that, she leaped toward her and knocked her to the ground. The jar in her hand rolled out the cracked door and down the steps.
Ash smiled when he saw the jar at the base of the steps and picked it up victoriously. “Thank you~!” Grell smiled as he rushed past the angel, snatching the jar from his hand.
“Give that back, you reaper!” the angel growled as he chased him.
The reaper in red only smiled as he tossed it over his head. “What are you talking about?” he asked teasingly. “I don’t have it!”
William caught it and continued to run to another staircase. Once he made it to the flight of steps, Ash swooped in front of him, his large white wings slightly folded intimidatingly. The reaper looked back in anxiety. “Dad!” Jeremy called. “I’m open!” With that, William threw the jar to his son, who caught it narrowly and took off running.
As he ran, Paul, Undertaker, Bard, Rachel, and Sebastian made their way up the stairs in a hurry. The demon looked back at his daughter when she didn’t follow him. “Come on!” he urged desperately. “We need to stop your friend from turning sides!”
“I need to keep Claude in the loop!” she argued. “He needs me more than all of you guys right now! I’ll be fine! Don’t worry!” and she ran out the door, separating from her father yet again.
“Uncle Bassy!” Jeremy called from down the stairs. “Heads up!”
Justine hurried as fast as she could to where the spider still laid in his curled up ball of shame and depression. “Claude!” she called. “We need you! Now!” Still, he remained unfazed and silent. “Listen! If you don’t help now, Angel will be under Ash’s thumb for the rest of her life! She might die!” At the word ‘die’, he twitched slightly before turning to see the teen, his golden eyes slightly widened behind his glasses. “Yeah! You heard that right! Your daughter, my best friend, DEAD! There’s still a chance, but for this chance to work, you need to get off your butt and do something for your daughter! Are you a spider…or a fly?”
Angel didn’t lighten her attack on Angela as the mother only tried to dodge the attacks and stay away from her. She didn’t know how much longer she could last without hurting her only daughter.
Suddenly, there was a skidding sound by the door as Rachel caught herself on the frame. “Angel!” the human teen called. When the ‘purified’ angel looked up, Rachel tossed the jar. “Heads up!” The glass shattered at the purple-eyed teen’s feet as the dog evaporated from the shattered remains of the jar. The vapor of the demonic spirit circled the teen before absorbing itself into her.
The girl in the collar curled into herself, shielding her face from the other two occupants in the room who both gazed at her in worry. Shakily, she looked up with her round, golden brown eyes, glowing like twin candles in Christmas eve night. “…Mom?” she called, tears pricking at her eyes.
Angela sighed as she embraced her daughter. “My sweet baby.” she breathed out in relief as she smiled in the teen’s hair.
Suddenly, Angel screamed and clutched her head, the intensity of the light illuminating from the collar growing brighter. Seeing that was the problem, she ripped at the collar, trying to get it off to no avail. “Mom!” she cried. “Get it off! GET IT OFF!”
“I don’t have the power; I can’t!” the woman sobbed, shaking her head. “You have to fight it!”
“We have to get out of here!” Rachel shouted, pulling Angela to the door as Angel started going wild, throwing furniture and whatever she could get her claws on to shatter on the walls of the large, white room.
It wasn’t until the teen looked at her mother with pleading eyes, swapping between deep purple and bright brown, between slit snake eyes to round innocent eyes, when they left.
“Where are you going?” Ash asked when the teens and parents made it to the main room once again. “You’ll miss the main event.” With that, he whistled again. The one to answer unwillingly was Angel. She tried desperately to hold herself back as she appeared at the top of the stairs, her white wings spread wide. “Sick ’em!” he ordered.
As the teen’s white wings flapped, elevating her up, she flailed her legs to go against his command, clawing at the collar, but she still hovered down, swooping over the group and grabbing Bard. As the two flew up, Angel tried hard to fight it as she flew up and out the window.
Once she was as high as the chimney, keeping herself and the human at bay above the edge of a cliff with white water slapping the large, jagged rocks at low tide, she let go of Bard and heard his cries with tears cascading down her face. “No!” she cried, summoning all her strength to make a double of herself available to catch the cook and ease his acceleration to zero before accelerating up and placing him in a patch of grass before the double exploded itself in golden brown dust. …I still have the power from my demonic half, but it takes so much more energy to access it now than it did before… she noted. I’ll keep that in mind to save everyone else…I have to…
With that, she dashed back to the mansion only to receive a new order. “Stay!”
Hearing this new order, the collar glowed brighter for a moment, causing her pain as she continued to attempt to rip it off. A few moments after the attempt failed, she zipped back to the group and landed on the ground. “Take the reaper with the machete first.” Unwillingly, she turned to Paul.
The teen reaper gripped his machete tight in his hold. “Angel! Don’t do this!” he begged, dodging her punches. “I don’t want to hurt you!”
“You think I want to hurt you?!” she cried, opening her hands and summoning two hand swords in her palms. With a few slashes, Paul was out in shock. Naturally, his father came up to fight against her. “I don’t want to do any of this!” the teen cried, dodging the chainsaw, clippers, sickle, ax, gun butts (Rachel didn’t want to shoot her, and she only had guns), whip, and even silver kitchen knives before throwing her lethal blows.
As the fight wore on, Angel stopped to clutch her head. After a moment, she exploded from her fetal position and couldn’t take it anymore. With tears raining down her face, she cried loud and clear, “DADDY! HELP ME!”