Bump in the night

There was something odd about the person in the long coat, standing a few yards away from us in the huge room with the concrete floor. A long black duster, buttoned up to the neck and with its hem brushing the floor, hid their entire body, and a wide brimmed hat cast an impenetrable shadow over everything but their jaw and mouth. There didn't seem to be anything I could see that was out of the ordinary about them, but it almost seemed like some sort of disconcerting energy was rolling off of them in waves.

“Runcible Hand.” The words that came out of its mouth, for I was suddenly certain the figure in front of me was neither a him nor a her, weren't in any language I knew. Nevertheless, my mind rang with a painful clarity as to the true meaning of the strange words. It had called me by name. “Runcible Hand, you must come with me. You must come with me, and stand before my Master. You, and only you, are called. You and only you must come.” Like an inexorable tide, the words washed over me, and I could feel an almost irresistible pull towards the stranger.

My attention had been so focused on the stranger that I hadn't noticed the amount of space the figure standing right next to me was taking up. When it stepped forward, though, it seemed like a wall had moved, it was so large.

Eight feet of dark blue skin, covered in primal tattoos and dirt. Huge, two toed feet tipped with sharp looking nails. Hands so wide, they could have gripped a fifty-five gallon drum and covered it completely. A head topped with long, stringy black hair and featuring a jutting lower jaw with two yellowed canine teeth rising up, past the upper lip, seeming to point to the pair of reddish eyes that sat shadowed under the prominent brow and bushy eyebrows. It stepped forward, stamping a foot on the ground hard enough to crack the concrete below it, spread the arms covered in tattoos and leather straps, and opened it's mouth to bellow deafeningly.

A troll! For Amat's sake, it's an actual gorram troll! Holy crap, what was going on here?

The person in the black coat raised its thin, immaculate hands, and began unbuttoning the black coat, slowly and deliberately. As the white hands pulled the front of the coat open, its bare chest became exposed, displaying a pattern of red and black lines on perfectly white, unblemished skin. The pattern of lines, it became apparent as the coat slid off of the persons shoulders and dropped to the floor, continued over the shoulders and down the arms to the elbows, and disappeared below the belt of the kilt it wore, to reappear at the lower hem, and continued to just below the knees. The kilt was black and red also, and the belt, buckled with a wide silver buckle embossed with an eye-watering geometric shape, had a scabbard containing a sword attached to it. At first, I thought the tall, thin, ivory figure had been wearing a cape under its coat, but it quickly became apparent that the 'cloth' I thought had been covering its shoulders was actually a pair of huge, dark wings, extending and spreading on either side and above the figure.

A hand rose, and flicked the hat off of its head. Close cropped red hair appeared over its perfectly formed and serene face. And just above the hair, a bright blue halo floated like a ring of controlled lightning.

The Angel's left arm rose, as though it was going to touch its right shoulder. It made a fist. A point of light appeared on the back of its hand, and moved in a large circle, from the left hand to left shoulder and back again, leaving a trail behind. As it light completed its journey, the air inside the circle shimmered, and suddenly the Angel was holding a wide, silver shield, covered in the same impossible shape that was on the buckle of its belt.

The shield dropped to the Angel's side, while it's right hand rose. Raising the arm to shoulder height, the hand at the end of the fully extended arm made a gripping motion, and in its hand, the Angel suddenly held a spear seemingly made of darkness and fire.

It stood for a moment, shield at its side, spear at arms length and resting on the floor, dark wings spread behind it, and it looked directly at me. Its presence seemed more real than anything else I had ever seen; its eyes had a sharpness that threatened to slice directly through my mind, and my soul. It was beautiful to look at, and painful.

The Angel lifted the spear, and stepped forward.

The troll bellowed again, and rushed to meet it.

As the troll's rush brought the huge monster near to the thin white creature, the Angel lifted its left foot, pushing off with its right, and floated gently out of the way of the attack. It didn't seem to be moving with any haste, but the Angel managed to land and bend out of the way of the troll's right fist as it threw a vicious back hand. Straightening to face the off balance monster, the Angel's spear moved deliberately forward, and inserted itself into the shoulder of the troll, stopping the left arm from coming around and causing it to drop uselessly to the troll's side. The giant, groaning, stumbled backwards. The Angel released the spear, and it seemed like the troll had been impaled with a shaft of pure night.

The Angel floated towards the troll, ducking under another clumsy swing, and brought its shield around to strike the side of the troll's right knee. There was a cracking sound and a scream, as the troll dropped to it's knees. The pain seemed to focus the troll, and it tried to hit the Angel's gently smiling face one more time. The Angel caught the backhand on its shield, though, forcing the arm to rise and pass over the Angels head. As the shield lowered, I could see that the Angel had drawn its blazing sword, and it's eyes seemed to be studying the wide expanse of the troll's unprotected skin. Almost languorously, the sword moved forward, entering neat the center of the chest.

The troll, its arms spread wide, leaned backwards, arching its spine, facing the ceiling, making a low cry like a wounded dog. It kept leaning back until its shoulders touched the floor, moaning quietly.

The Angel looked at me, again. “Runcible Hand, you must come with me.”

I became aware of two forms coming up on either side of me, both bringing weapons to bear. On my right, my pal Automatic Jack had extruded two vibrating blades from his forearms. There was a sound like a weapon being cocked to my left, and I turned to see who was holding it. But I wasn't fast enough.

The Angel had moved to stand on the troll's arched body, and, as my head turned, it had seized its spear and pulled it from the troll's shoulder, then hurled it towards the figure on my left. I caught just a glimpse of the spear striking the form in the chest, the force of its strike carrying the unknown person backwards into shadow. From the sounds I caught, the spear might have impaled the person on the wall behind us. A pair of handguns thudded to the floor where the person had been.

I turned back to look at the Angel, whose gaze was now on Jack. Jack struck his arm-blades together, making a high pitched buzzing crash. He turned slightly, left arm extended, right arm back, both blades pointing at the Angel, ready to fight.

The Angel's crimson eyebrow twitched upwards. The halo above its head shot forward, towards Jack. Before he could move, the halo hit my metal friend in the gut, carrying him backwards into the shadow as the spear had done to my other, unknown friend. This time, the shadows were broken by a window, and I could see Jack's silhouette as he was thrust back though it, dropping and vanishing.

I turned back to find the Angel standing directly in front of me, sword in hand, shield by it's side. After a moment, it sheathed the sword, and, as it stepped forward, the halo reappearing above it's head.

With no prior thought, knowing it would be useless, I stepped forward myself, throwing my red left hand up, aiming to hit the Angel's inhumanly perfect face. Moving with the same unhurried speed that had marked it's every action, the Angel's hand intercepted mine, and pulled my fist to the side with inexorable strength. It leaned forward, it's diamond eyes cutting into mine.

“RUNCIBLE HAND,” it said in a voice that would brook no argument, “YOU MUST COME WITH ME.”

The eyes boring into mine grew larger, deeper, and the rest of the world faded and vanished. I stood on the edge of the world and those massive, deep pools.

Then the edge vanished, and I fell.

The sheets were soaked with sweat as I woke, gasping like a drowning man. I felt a weight on my chest like a stone, and in the darkness of the ceiling, I could still see the eyes of the Angel from my dream.