@blackwatchreaper66
Angela ran as fast as her feet would carry her, sprinting down the dank alleyway in hopes of getting lost within the labyrinth. The network of back roads, abandoned driveways, and alleys was massive. Hopefully by fleeing into here, Reaper wouldn’t become tempted to hold another life in peril. Angela was fine risking her own, but she couldn’t allow an innocent life to fall into jeopardy. Curiously, the petite blonde glanced over her shoulder as she kept running. When she saw the wisps of inky blackness and how they breezed right past her, Angela had to whip her head forward and slam on her heels to prevent from toppling into Reaper.
“Y-You–!!” She gasped out through weak lungs, a trembling yelp escaping her soon after due to the vice on her throat and the weight of impact the wall carried. The hand which carried her Caduceus Staff–which she nearly forgot she had on her–feebly released the weapon, the echo reverberating as it fell to the ground and rolled a few feet away. Both hands grasped at Reaper’s offending wrist in hopes of stopping him from choking her outright. He was fueled by rage, and why wouldn’t he be? Angela could only imagine what he had endured since they last saw each other, let alone the daily pain he stomached due to his complicated condition which constantly danced between life and death.
“Please…p-please…” She wheezed gently, her sparkling blue hues flickering weakly in the choke hold but never faltering from that ivory mask. “You…you d-don’t know…the full truth of that night…let me explain it to you,” She had to pause to gasp again, face flustering as her breathing was limited. “Y-You’re to kill me…either way…I don’t expect mercy from you, b-but…you deserve to know the truth…” Angela finally gave up speaking and decided to focus on what little breathing she could do with his hand around her throat. She’d pass out at this rate if he refused to lighten his grip. It pained her to know he lived, to become this thing. In truth, she had fallen blissfully in love with him back in those days of yore. They butted heads at first–what with her being Jack’s favorite and Gabriel thinking she were some entitled snot–but their friendship thickened over the years spent in battle and on base together.
It had been unrequited as Angela never had the courage to confess to him. That, and just when she felt she was ready, the animosity between her two closest friends began to form. Even if she did love him, Angela could no sooner take Gabriel’s side than she could Jack’s. Her decision to remain neutral in their little ‘war’ might as well been a death sentence for everyone there. Perhaps if she had sided with one side or the other, then the fall out of that day would never have happened. It was this guilt and ever-present yearning which drove her to educate him on it all. Her stance, what happened following the explosion, everything which followed, all of it. Eyes still on his–though they were dangerously close to drifting off to unconsciousness–Angela rasped out a final cry, her tone in shambles as she dusted off her favorite name and used it for the first time in years. “Gabriel, p-please…”
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