Wicked Wings

Alley's eyes pried open and he immediately sat up, feeling the sting in his abdomen. "Ow..."

"Did you forget you just got out of the hospital two days ago?"

He was unsure who was speaking as his vision adjusted, and after a long blink, he saw Pierrot and two unfamiliar people.

"Where are we?" Alley asked Pierrot, who was looking at the television mounted on the wall of a...

Alley looked around. He realized it was not an ordinary room. The walls were painted blood red, with black and white checkered floors. There were dining tables and chairs, and he sat amongst the few padded benches.

On his right was a neon sign that said 'Wicked Wings', with a slogan in smaller text, 'Putting the sin in your chicken', while on the left was Pierrot focusing on the television like a kid mesmerized by colors.

A lady was in the small kitchen, seemingly frying something as the smell of oil filled the air. Another boy was beside Pierrot, who was reading a book upside down.

"We're at home," answered Pierrot as he stood and walked toward him, and the other boy closed his book and followed.

"Hi, you're finally awake. I'm Quill, one of the Malachim," the boy said with a faint smile.

He wondered if being pale was a trend for these people as he looked at both of them side by side.

Quill's curly mint hair covered his forehead, baby-faced and on the shorter side. Standing beside Pierrot, he stood only until his chest.

"Hello... I'm Alley."

"How old are you?"

"17..."

"Ah, then I'm older. I'm 19," he beamed and turned to face Pierrot. "When will he get his alias?"

"I thought about it..." Pierrot touched his chin, thinking, and looked at Alley. "How about Arc?"

A faint smile appeared on Alley's face. "I think that's... nice." He remembered the company he used to frequent, with the people who treated him well.

"Well then, time to get used to it," Pierrot said, sitting beside him.

"But what happened? At the conference..."

"We pushed through, of course, or did you mean after you passed out?"

"I mean, I still don't understand a thing... I'm a... Malach now?"

Quill grabbed a chair and sat in front of them. "Yes..."

"Yup, which part of it is hard to understand?" Pierrot shrugged.

Alley's eyebrows furrowed. "And? What will I do?"

"You haven't explained a thing to him?!" Quill glared at his mentor.

Pierrot laughed. "Arc is a fast learner!"

"Gibbous!" Quill called. "Pierrot is at it again!"

The lady who worked in the kitchen finally walked toward them with a plate of food. Her long straight hair tied in a loose, low ponytail, and cat-like sharp eyes glared at Pierrot.

"At it with what?" she grumbled as she approached. "Pull one of the tables here. I got our chicken."

Pierrot immediately followed the request.

"Alias Gibbous. Nice to meet you, Arc." She grinned at him and extended her free hand.

"Thank you for having me here," Arc received it with both hands and a bow.

Gibbous chuckled. "That's too formal!" a smile remained on her face. "And so, what's the deal here?"

"Arc is much like how I arrived here—clueless. Thanks to the mentor," Quill snarked.

Pierrot grunted after adjusting the table. "I mean, he just got out of the hospital..."

"What happened to 'to prepare the mind'?" Quill quoted Pierrot.

"Well, we can start... tomorrow. For now, let's eat!" Pierrot clapped his hands together and reached for a piece of fried chicken, but paused. "What's this, Gibbous?"

"It's chicken," Gibbous pointed at the plate. "Fried chicken."

Quill looked at it intently. "Clearly burnt, madame."

"Clearly burnt, madame," Pierrot echoed.

"Clearly, you will starve then," she turned to Arc. "Go ahead, Arc, you should eat."

Arc reached for a piece, picking the slightly less burnt wing and took a bite. His blank expression gained curiosity from the two, thinking maybe it was not as bad as it looked.

They both took a piece and bit into them, but immediately spat it out.

"Bitter..." Pierrot looked at Quill. "We should order some noodles."

"We will," Quill said, already pulling out his phone. "Arc, you don't have to keep eating them. Gibbous put literal sin on it."

Arc paused mid-bite, wondering if he should take another bite or not, while Gibbous glared at them.

"Is it really burnt?" she tried one of the chickens. "I don't think it's bad..."

"Your taste buds are dead," Pierrot remarked. "From all that spicy food."

"Is it?" Gibbous frowned. "I'm good at many things but maybe not frying chicken."

"There is a precise instruction on how to fry it by the counter. You mean you're bad at following them." Quill sighed as he put his phone down. "I suddenly miss Roy..."

"Where is he?" Arc asked, putting the half-eaten wing down.

"On a case," Quill answered. "He'll be back by..." he glanced at the clock hung on the wall displaying 7 PM, "...midnight probably."

Then an abrupt alarm resounded, and everyone paused to check their phones.

"I'll take this one," said Gibbous, taking off her apron, revealing her denim jacket over black jeans and a fitted shirt. She took a helmet sitting on a counter and the keys to her bike, exiting the store in just a minute.

Arc was confused. "What was that alarm for?"

"A case. An active one," answered Quill. "As you know, we take possession cases. Much like how they went to your house for your parents, the cases require us to seal... demons."

"Quill, where are the noodlessss..." Pierrot grumbled, sinking into his chair.

"On their way, geez," Quill turned back to Arc. "By the way, how was the talk with your aunt?"

Alley paused and drank some water. "Pierrot handled most of it, though it was a little hard saying goodbye to my little brother. He cried a lot..."

His eyes were distant, and silence befell the room, but then another sudden alarm was heard.

"Another case?!" Arc alerted.

"No..." Quill stood up and grabbed Pierrot's wandering wallet with a grin, leaving Arc confused.

So he turned to Pierrot, "Huh?"

"That's our noodles," Pierrot gleamed.