just aren’t quite as mean and nasty as demons, plus demons were the fallen angels that had never been given the opportunity to be born into the human world.
As far as how I would do my penance, that was going to be left to me.
So those were my choices. I could go to Hell right then and there, or I could find a way to earn my white wings back.
It was a no-brainer.
I wasn’t quite ready to jump into the fire just yet.
The big problem was going to be the redemption clause. How could someone as naturally sarcastic and opinionated as myself, find redemption, especially since mischief was a mainstay of my nature?
Well Mister Grim wasn’t about to help me with that part. I had to figure it out on my own. That was all part of the deal.
There was a bright spot in all of this. The Angel of Death did tell me where I could find another job.
That would have really sucked to survive death, come back as a fallen angel, and then have to stand in line at the soup kitchen because I was broke and unemployed.
So being the helpful reaper that he is, Mister Grim dropped a name.
The Monster Squad.
They sounded more like a bunch of comic book fanatics, than a group of federal agents, but that’s exactly what they are.
More on that later, but for now, I’ll get back to the part about me feeling as if all the bones in my body had been crushed, and actually they were. It’s a good thing the Grim Reaper can also heal those he sends back.
By the time the paramedics finally arrived, all I had were some scrapes and bruises, aside from the fact that they actually had to start my heart.
I was the miracle girl. How many people got hit by a speeding, three quarter ton truck, and managed to walk away with only a few scratches?
Of course no one realized that my good fortune came at a price, and that price was that I would be sporting a pair of black wings for the rest of my life. Not literally of course, but you get the idea.
Unless I wanted to get another visit from Mister Grim, I was going to have to do some searching for something called the Monster Squad.
The only other clue he gave me was that the Monster Squad was in my hometown of Storm Cove, which happened to be on an island off the coast of Oregon.
That is how my life in the big city came to an abrupt end. If I wanted to earn redemption, and get a job, I was going to have to leave Portland and return to Mystique Island.
So that’s what I did.
You would think in a town as small as Storm Cove, finding something with an odd name like the Monster Squad would be easy as pie. Well it would have been, if that had been their official name.
No such luck. They weren’t about to make things that easy for me.
I spent an entire half a day driving around town, looking for this Monster Squad, but crapped out. Not only had I never heard the name before, and I’d spent the latter half of my childhood on the island, but I had my doubts the town council would even approve a business with that name. It might draw too much attention to things they’d prefer to keep secret.
Like most small towns, Storm Cove was a tight knit community. They didn’t care much for outsiders, but they did like tourists, which is why they played up the old legend of the shipwreck that brought most of the settlers to the area.
The old timers will tell you that in the early 1800s, a ship carrying settlers was knocked off course by a violent storm. The Mystique sank after being pushed close to shore and hitting a reef.
Half the ship’s passengers died, the other half managed to swim to shore.
Tales of sinking ships wasn’t so odd. The unusual part would be the Mystique’s passengers. They were said to be some very unusual people, though exactly what they were was never talked about.
Though most of the people in town are descended from those survivors, no one will admit what it was that was so special about them, but there were rumors.
There was no denying that Storm Cove had an curious history, along with
As far as how I would do my penance, that was going to be left to me.
So those were my choices. I could go to Hell right then and there, or I could find a way to earn my white wings back.
It was a no-brainer.
I wasn’t quite ready to jump into the fire just yet.
The big problem was going to be the redemption clause. How could someone as naturally sarcastic and opinionated as myself, find redemption, especially since mischief was a mainstay of my nature?
Well Mister Grim wasn’t about to help me with that part. I had to figure it out on my own. That was all part of the deal.
There was a bright spot in all of this. The Angel of Death did tell me where I could find another job.
That would have really sucked to survive death, come back as a fallen angel, and then have to stand in line at the soup kitchen because I was broke and unemployed.
So being the helpful reaper that he is, Mister Grim dropped a name.
The Monster Squad.
They sounded more like a bunch of comic book fanatics, than a group of federal agents, but that’s exactly what they are.
More on that later, but for now, I’ll get back to the part about me feeling as if all the bones in my body had been crushed, and actually they were. It’s a good thing the Grim Reaper can also heal those he sends back.
By the time the paramedics finally arrived, all I had were some scrapes and bruises, aside from the fact that they actually had to start my heart.
I was the miracle girl. How many people got hit by a speeding, three quarter ton truck, and managed to walk away with only a few scratches?
Of course no one realized that my good fortune came at a price, and that price was that I would be sporting a pair of black wings for the rest of my life. Not literally of course, but you get the idea.
Unless I wanted to get another visit from Mister Grim, I was going to have to do some searching for something called the Monster Squad.
The only other clue he gave me was that the Monster Squad was in my hometown of Storm Cove, which happened to be on an island off the coast of Oregon.
That is how my life in the big city came to an abrupt end. If I wanted to earn redemption, and get a job, I was going to have to leave Portland and return to Mystique Island.
So that’s what I did.
You would think in a town as small as Storm Cove, finding something with an odd name like the Monster Squad would be easy as pie. Well it would have been, if that had been their official name.
No such luck. They weren’t about to make things that easy for me.
I spent an entire half a day driving around town, looking for this Monster Squad, but crapped out. Not only had I never heard the name before, and I’d spent the latter half of my childhood on the island, but I had my doubts the town council would even approve a business with that name. It might draw too much attention to things they’d prefer to keep secret.
Like most small towns, Storm Cove was a tight knit community. They didn’t care much for outsiders, but they did like tourists, which is why they played up the old legend of the shipwreck that brought most of the settlers to the area.
The old timers will tell you that in the early 1800s, a ship carrying settlers was knocked off course by a violent storm. The Mystique sank after being pushed close to shore and hitting a reef.
Half the ship’s passengers died, the other half managed to swim to shore.
Tales of sinking ships wasn’t so odd. The unusual part would be the Mystique’s passengers. They were said to be some very unusual people, though exactly what they were was never talked about.
Though most of the people in town are descended from those survivors, no one will admit what it was that was so special about them, but there were rumors.
There was no denying that Storm Cove had an curious history, along with
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