‘One more time. I think I just need one more variation.’
Which was what she said the last three times, but V1 obeys, revving up the chainsaw and carefully holding it in place as Mirage approaches once more with her mic.
It does not know what she is looking for. The saw sounds the same to it every time, but she listens with her head tilted and her hands on her hips, looking for… something. Multiple somethings.
V1 keeps it going until Mirage steps back, shaking her head.
‘I think I figured it out,’ she says. ‘We need to cut something with it. Otherwise it just sounds… hollow.’
‘Is that you projecting your lack of inherent purpose or…’
‘Fuck off,’ she says, lighthearted. ‘They probably won’t let us cut those—‘ She gestures towards the pile of dusty wooden desks in the corner. ‘The trees on campus are off-limits too, I’m sure.’
‘V2’s place?’
‘Not sure if I want to deal with her boss right now.’
‘Then we’ll have to wait for tomorrow. No wood for you to cut, sorry.’
Mirage sighs, sticking her hands in her pockets. ‘My lack of foresight bites me in the ass again. Why do people even use saws? To cut wood, of course…’
‘Want me to walk you back to your dorm?’
‘Eh. I want to head to the library. I’ve got to hand in this essay by tomorrow.’
‘Sometimes I forget you even study here.’
‘You know what they say about philosophy majors,’ says Mirage, letting V1 open the door for her. ‘Sit around, do nothing, overdos—overthink.’
She seems proud of catching herself at the last second. V1 trails behind her, tossing the chainsaw back into its wings.
She’s a completely different person from when V1 first met her, crashing into her on its way to school. The important—and funny—parts of her haven’t changed: still foul-mouthed, still sarcastic, still weird.
‘This wouldn’t be happening if I’d just flunked my last assignment,’ she says, heading down the stairs one step at a time, looking on in amusement as V1 catapults itself down to the bottom. ‘But people expect things from star students.’
That smugness has never felt more sincere.
V1 fights down the ever-growing pit of loneliness within itself.
Everyone is growing wings, it seems—except for itself. Still in that old metal shell, feeling the same way it had six years ago.
It finds a different topic.
‘Gabriel’s stopped borrowing my notes. It’s terrifying. I’ve never seen him lock in like this.’
Mirage perks up, leaning against a banister. ‘He’s been asking for books to read,’ she says. ‘Honestly, I don’t know what’s come over him. Texted me at two in the morning asking me where to start reading Kierkegaard… are you sure it’s the same sheltered archangel we met?’
‘Well, it’s not fair to assume that he hasn’t read books before.’
‘Do you think he’d be reading about the individual’s subjective relationship to God? Under those people?’
V1 wishes it had the ability to snort. ‘I don’t know why he hasn’t left his Father yet after seeing the poison He preaches.’
‘That’s his decision to make,’ says Mirage curtly.
‘He’d be much happier for one.’ It extracts its phone to avoid looking directly at Mirage. ‘And much less repressed.’
‘Repressed?’
She sounds more confused than indignant. ‘In what way?’
V1 hesitates. Should it tell her… no, that sounds too much like a breach of privacy. A second breach of privacy.
Its phone buzzes and it jumps at the opportunity to dodge the question. A single notification pops up on the screen, a private message from Gabriel. Two words.
help me
V1 turns to Mirage. ‘Go to Gabriel’s dorm to check on him.’
‘What happened?’ She raises her voice as V1 begins to sprint down the stairs. ‘Where are you going?’
It screeches to a halt to sign, ‘Church.’
‘I’m coming with you. You were right the last time.’
~~~
The light of his wings has dimmed so much V1 barely sees him on the floor. He is slumped in front of the confessional, shivering, flinching away when V1 tries to touch his shoulder.
It flares its wings, frustrated, wishing more than ever that it could speak in this moment. It looks over its shoulder—of course, it’d left Mirage behind in its haste, so no one can help it now.
Gabriel makes a small, broken noise like a wounded animal, halo flickering in and out of existence, the feathers of his wings bent as if he had been thrashing them against the floor.
‘Please…’ He reaches out a shaking hand, fingers grazing V1’s thigh. ‘It’s so cold.’
It shuffles closer, not knowing what to do except run its hands down his back, feeling the sweat-stained fabric. Gabriel grasps onto its arm like a lifeline, holding it close to his chest.
‘I need you… I need you to hurt me.’
He lets go of V1’s hand, rolling onto his back, completely still except for the occasional twitch of a limb. Expectant, a specimen ready to be dissected.
And V1 does.
It lifts his shirt out of the way and digs its fingers into tender, inviting flesh. Gabriel screams outright, curling into himself, grabbing onto V1’s wrist but not with enough force to make it stop.
‘More,’ he gasps out between heavy breaths.
V1 digs its fingers in deeper. Epidermis, dermis. Blood trickles into its joints, absorbed by its plating almost instantly. Gabriel whimpers, wings fluttering, feathers scattering across the floor.
‘What are you DOING?’
Mirage skids to a stop behind it, horror evident as she takes a step back. V1 draws its fingers out of Gabriel’s wounds, making the process as slow as possible.
Gabriel falls limp to the floor.
‘He asked me to.’
‘Well, hit me over the head right now. For fuck’s sake, he needs proper help—‘
‘I’m fine.’
Gabriel props himself up on his elbows. ‘I—argh.’
‘The two of you are freaks.’
V1 lets Gabriel lean on it, throwing his arm over its shoulders, carefully keeping his skin away from any pinch points. Mirage puts her hands on her hips.
‘Explain.’
Gabriel coughs, a wet, terrible sound.
‘The physical pain distracts me from the… other kind of pain,’ he begins, but Mirage holds up a hand.
‘From the beginning. What other kind?’
V1 feels him hold on tighter to its arm.
‘I successfully negotiated to stay here for one more month,’ he whispers into the darkness of the church, voice echoing off the walls. ‘The price is pain.’
Something violent awakens within V1 and it stops itself from shoving its hands into his stomach again. No, he is not who it wants to hurt.
When Mirage speaks it is with horror. ‘They can do… that to you?’
‘Every angel’s divine light is under the jurisdiction of the Council, to be shaped by their will.’ Gabriel rests his head on V1’s shoulder, metal hitting metal with a dull thud. ‘I can bear it.’
‘No the fuck you can’t,’ says Mirage sharply. ‘I’m getting help.’
‘I can move on my own—argh.’ His wings flap weakly in an attempt to keep him upright.
‘V1, keep him from bleeding out. I’ll be back in fifteen.’
She turns on her heel and sprints, darting through the half-open doors.
Gabriel sighs, wings drooping. His halo flickers out completely, only the dim glow of his wings illuminating the small patch of floor they occupy. His breathing is still weak but he isn’t thrashing anymore.
V1 snaps its fingers, making him turn his head to watch it sign. It’s awkward from this angle but it cannot let him collapse.
‘Does it still hurt?’
‘Apart from this?’ He’s holding the wound in his stomach shut with a hand. ‘No, I think it has passed.’
‘Where does your Council live?’
‘You wouldn’t be able to do anything to them.’
‘But they bleed, yes?’
‘I—you insolent fool of a machine.’
V1 considers the ethics of slamming his head into the floor. Instead it grabs hold of one of his wings, thumbing through the primary feathers, feeling him shiver when it strokes down the shafts.
‘After everything I’ve done,’ he says, ‘this is the least they should be doing.’
‘They’re punishing you for not listening to their orders, not for Minos, you dumbass.’
Gabriel lets out a weak chuckle. ‘No matter the reason, justice is being served.’
‘Is that why you won’t leave them? Because you like suffering?’
‘Because I want absolution,’ says Gabriel. ‘The Father’s framework guides me through this life. To leave it I would be letting myself fall into the darkness of unknowing. The Council merely enforces His Will, one way or another.’
‘Do they just let anybody enforce His Will, or…’
‘I… am not sure what you mean, machine.’
‘If you enjoy punishment so much—‘ It ignores his indignant noise. ‘I will carry it out on you.’
It does not imagine the shiver that passes through him at that.
‘Don’t worry about redundancy,’ it continues. ‘It worked, replacing spiritual pain with the physical kind. Trust me, angel, I’ll be able to hurt you so badly, in so many more ways than you can imagine.’
To emphasise the point it digs its fingers into the top of his wing. He lets out a small moan at that before catching himself and staring off into the distance.
‘We will duel. You will lose.’ V1 fans out his feathers, wishing it had better graphics to count them. ‘And you’ll satisfy your weird sense of justice. Do we have a deal?’
Gabriel audibly swallows. He nods.
V1 grasps his shoulder. ‘Good.’
~~~
Gabriel falls asleep when V2 arrives with the stretcher, chest rising and falling evenly as they move him into the car.
‘My workplace is closest,’ says V2. ‘Think my boss won’t mind.’
V1 drives slower this time. Mirage fiddles with her thumbs in the passenger seat, occasionally looking behind her. V1 sees V2 give her a reassuring wave in the rear view mirror, Gabriel’s full weight draped across her lap.
V1 parks perfectly in the space before the shack. Despite its run down appearance, V1 can vouch for its stability. A warm orange light diffuses from the sole front-facing window.
V2 rolls out of the car, dashes up to the door, and knocks on it. As the door creaks open and she sticks her head in the crack, Mirage coughs.
‘I wanted to keep it as a surprise, but I think it’s best we do this as early as possible.’
V1 signs, ‘What are you talking about?’
‘He’s going to be catatonic from the pain if we don’t go soon,’ she says, more to herself than to it. ‘I haven’t told V2 yet either… later.’
V1 holds its hands out in a ‘what?’ gesture but she is already opening the car door, looping back around to the backseat and gently moving Gabriel out of the car. V1 joins her, throwing the angel’s arm over its shoulders just as V2 turns around and waves at them, visibly pleased.
‘We can stay the night,’ she says. Mirage lets out a quiet groan, though not from the effort she is exerting.
They pass through the workshop, sawdust coating the floor and plastic pipes piled on the nearest table. A cup of coffee perches precariously on the edge, and V1 fights the urge to give it a shove closer to the centre of the table. It carefully manoeuvres Gabriel around a rack of saws, heading for the guest room at the back.
It makes a beeline for the couch at the back of the room as Mirage shuts the door behind it. Gabriel’s breathing catches for a moment when V1 sets him down, then he resumes, completely unconscious.
It looks around for a blanket, finds one on the floor, and throws it over Gabriel. It doesn’t even cover up his legs but he holds onto it anyway, curling up and continuing to sleep.
‘Hey.’
Mirage signals for it to join her and V2, seated at the round table next to the couch. V1 does, crossing its arms.
‘What was it you wanted to tell me?’
‘I wanted to take you all on a camping trip next week,’ she begins, ‘but I’m moving the date up. This weekend.’
‘That’s in two days,’ says V2, picking out wood shavings from between her knee joints.
‘It was supposed to be a surprise,’ says Mirage sullenly, ‘but we’re running out of time. At this rate he won’t be able to do anything with the pain.’
‘Painkillers?’ offers V2.
‘Conked out on morphine or losing it from agonising pain. That’s his call.’
‘We don’t know if it even works,’ says Mirage. ‘We cannot bank on angel physiology being similar to a human’s.’
She looks at Gabriel, asleep on the couch. ‘I want him to have something good to look back on.’
‘Come on, sunshine—‘
‘I’m not assuming the worst. I’m being practical.’ Mirage rubs at a spot on her neck. ‘I need to record some weird sounds anyway. Sooner or later, shouldn’t matter. There’s a transmission tower in the woods…’ She trails off, thinking.
V2 looks at Gabriel, then at V1, something akin to fear in her gaze.
‘He won’t die,’ says V1, hoping it sounds reassuring. ‘He’s too angry to.’
‘There’s too much we don’t know,’ says V2 quietly.
‘Either way we’re doing him a favour. You think he’s ever gone camping before?’
‘None of us have,’ says Mirage. ‘The quintessential coming-of-age checklist item.’
A commotion makes V1’s head snap in the direction of the couch. Gabriel’s wings have reappeared, folded haphazardly against the back of the couch. The angel himself is hanging off the couch, cursing as he tries to drag himself upright.
The door to the workshop opens. V2 waves.
‘Hey boss. Don’t think we’ve introduced him to you.’
She gestures to Gabriel who is staring at the doorway, completely frozen. As the door swings open further he takes in the sight of the tall man, braids adorning his head, exposed arms speaking of strength. A pair of shades hide his blind eyes and he makes an amused sound as Gabriel crashes to the ground, sending feathers flying.
He drags himself upright, croaks out, ‘Sisyphus?’
i love godspeed you! black emperor
also go listen to the lamb as effigy by sprain