Astrael felt his chest cave in as a wooden stake pierced him. In the same second, Malcom rushed straight for Seraphiel, wielding another stake which glistened under the fluorescent light.

  Malcom’s eyes were anger. "You think I don’t know what you are?" he spat, his voice shaking with anger. “You thought you could come in here and fool me, huh? I’ve been hunting things like you for years. I know what you are!”

  Astrael’s mind raced, struggling to process the sudden aggression. "What are you talking about?"

  Malcom's eyes flickered to Seraphiel, who stood motionless, her posture relaxed but tense, ready for anything. "Vampires. You and your kind, preying on these people. I know your tricks, we hunters do it too. acting like FBI for insider knowledge."

  Seraphiel’s lips parted, and she took a slow step forward, her expression unreadable. “Doctor, we’re not what you think. We’re not vampires.”

  Astrael got up slowly Shit, this is hard, I can barely breathe, this damn vessel “y..yeah”

  Seraphiel shot him a glance, her eyes flashing with concern, but she said nothing, allowing him the space to regain his balance. She turned back to Malcom, her voice steady, but edged with something that spoke of authority and patience. "This doesn't have to go any further, Dr. Malcom. We're here to help. We can work together to stop whatever is causing these disappearances."

  “What the hell are you two” Malcom held out a pistol, aiming at them, probably loaded with hunter rounds.

  They’ll have no effect Seraphiel thought, but keeping that thought to herself, she spoke once more “We’re angels, if you truly don’t believe us, then take the shot”

  Malcom’s grip tightened on the pistol, the hammer clicking back with a sharp sound. Astrael’s heart rate spiked for a moment—his human vessel, still recovering from the stakes—making the moment feel more real than it should’ve. But he could feel the faint hum of his healing energy already mending the wound, the pain dulling with each second.

  He wasn't worried about the bullets. The weapon in Malcom’s hands couldn’t harm them. But he wasn’t eager to reveal that fact just yet.

  Seraphiel, her eyes as calm as ever, assessed Malcom as he pointed the gun at them, her expression unreadable. “If you think that gun’s going to do anything to us, Dr. Malcom, you’re mistaken,” she said coolly, almost like she was talking to a stubborn child.

  Malcom's eyes flickered with confusion and fear. “You’re... angels?” His voice wavered with disbelief. "You... don’t look like angels. You don’t even feel like angels."

  Astrael, still feeling the strain of his human body, lifted an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected the disbelief to hit this hard. “We’re not here to fight you, Malcom,” he said, his voice carrying a calm confidence despite the tension in the air. “We’re here to stop something far worse than whatever you’re holding in your hands.”

  “Fine, prove it, show me your powers”

  “If you want me to smite you, I’m up for it jackass” Astrael lunged at him, hand outstretched, prepared to get revenge on this mortal who had just inconvenienced him.

  Seraphiel’s hand shot out, grabbing Astrael’s arm before he could move any further. “Astrael, no. He's innocent,” she said firmly, her tone unwavering despite the tension in the air.

  Astrael paused, his anger boiling just under the surface. The wound still smarted, the human body too fragile for his liking. He didn’t appreciate being treated like a threat, especially by someone who was so woefully ignorant of what was really happening. But Seraphiel’s steady presence held him back, even if just barely.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Malcom’s eyes flickered between them, still clutching the gun in a shaky grip. He was trying to process the situation, still not quite believing what he was seeing. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but if you’re really angels, then show me. I’m not just going to take your word for it.”

  Seraphiel let her light flow, shining through her eyes, giving her an ethereal glow that made the room feel both warmer and impossibly distant at the same time. The celestial energy radiated from her like a soft pulse, a subtle yet undeniable presence. It wasn’t the full force of a smite, but the kind of divine aura that made the air feel charged—tangible but not aggressive.

  Astrael could feel the shift in the atmosphere as Seraphiel’s light intensified, and for a split second, even he was taken aback. Her divine presence wasn’t overwhelming, but it was undeniably powerful—enough to make anyone question whether they could stand against her. The shimmering light that surrounded her seemed to reinforce her every word, her every movement, like the very essence of her being was impossible to ignore.

  Malcom’s eyes widened, his fingers twitching slightly as the glow illuminated the dark corners of the room. For a moment, his gun seemed almost insignificant in his hand, the weight of it a reminder of just how out of his depth he truly was.

  Seraphiel’s gaze softened, just for a second. There was a flicker of something deeper—something quiet in the way her shoulders squared, her presence commanding but not aggressive. As she spoke, her voice was steady, but there was a slight change in the rhythm of her words, a quiet reassurance in how she framed herself. “You wanted to see power. This is what you’re up against. But this is not about proving ourselves. It’s about saving the people who are still alive.”

  The faintest glimmer of her past, her journey—of learning to stand tall and face what she had once feared—echoed through her tone. It was subtle, but it carried a weight that might be understood only by those who, like her, had to grow into their true self, piece by piece.

  "You wanted to see power," Seraphiel said quietly, her voice like a soft whisper that carried across the room. "This is what you’re up against. But this is not about proving ourselves. It’s about saving the people who are still alive."

  “Fine.. What the hell do you angels need”

  “We’re just here for information, we thought you were the vampires but clearly not, so who is it” Astrael stepped forward.

  Malcom hesitated, his gun still trembling in his hand, the weight of Seraphiel’s divine presence clearly sinking in. “Fine… What the hell do you angels need?” he finally muttered, the edge of disbelief still lingering in his voice.

  Seraphiel allowed herself a brief, subtle nod, stepping back slightly. “We’re just here for information. We thought you were the vampires, but clearly not. So who is it?”

  Astrael stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. He was still irritated, his breath shallow from the earlier wound, but the mission took precedence. “We’re on a clock here, Doctor,” he said, his voice cool but firm. “You’ve got the knowledge we need, so stop wasting our time.”

  Malcom looked between the two angels, his expression conflicted, but ultimately, the weight of the situation seemed to sink in. He sighed deeply, lowering the gun just a fraction, though his hand remained steady. “There’s something... or someone... in these woods. It’s not just vampires. Fledglings, yes. But there’s something else. Something older, something far worse.”

  Seraphiel’s brow furrowed slightly, sensing the shift in the air. “What are you talking about?”

  Malcom paused, clearly weighing whether to continue. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. “It’s a creature that’s been here for decades. You might call it a spirit, but it’s not like anything you’ve ever dealt with. It feeds off fear... and it’s been driving people into the woods, one by one.”

  Astrael took a step closer, sensing that Malcom was holding back. “And you? Why are you hunting these people, Doctor? Why are you trying to kill us?”

  Malcom’s face hardened, the conflict still visible in his eyes, but he answered. “I’ve seen what it does. The people it takes are never seen again. It gets into their heads, makes them do things—things they never would’ve done otherwise. I’m not some rogue hunter. I’m trying to stop it, just like you. I'm here specifically for his head. He took my son”

  Seraphiel took a deep breath, her eyes glinting with a mix of caution and resolve. “Then help us. We’re not enemies. We’re all trying to stop the same thing. But we don’t have much time.”

  Malcom looked at her, a flicker of doubt in his eyes, but then he seemed to relent. “Fine. But you’re gonna need to be careful. This thing, whatever it is, it’s got more than just power. It’s got a way of making people... believe they’re doing the right thing. It’ll twist your mind just like it’s done with everyone else.”

  Astrael frowned, feeling a knot in his stomach. “Let’s just get to it. The faster we find it, the better.”

  Malcom nodded, and despite the lingering tension, there was an unspoken agreement between them all now. They had a common enemy. The only question was whether they’d be able to defeat it before it took someone else.