Angels at Sunset

It was too soon to say 'I told you so', but that didn't stop Hayden from saying it. He said and did many, certainly, bizarre things – those things landing him right into the cold hands of an insane asylum. He didn't seem to mind it though, the room bright and splattered with post it notes in colors that made him happy. Yellow like puss, brown like frayed skin, and red like crying eyes! It could almost pass for a normal room for a normal boy. Almost.

Hayden wasn't normal, not by society standards, although have him tell it he’ll say otherwise.

When he said someone would die, they always did.

Some called him a prophet, others called him a murderer, and a small few passed it as coincidence. Somehow, it was still a shock that one of the nurses who attended to him was found dead in the hallway, wide eyed, mouth foaming, and skin sunken. People suspected that Hayden had done it himself, but the door was locked from the outside and there was no DNA on her body, let alone any physical marks at all.

So, it all came back to Hayden’s favorite line.

"I told you so.” He said, eating his breakfast. The news didn't affect him. He carried on as if he heard this everyday. Another day, another death. It wasn’t unusual. Why did people panic so much?

Of course, this made others wary to go near him, fearing they may be next, that somehow he was hexing them – a literal devils incarnate they liked to whisper under their breaths.

Others only interacted when instructed. Julian was a little different. He was intrigued. A newly graduated psychologist, barely on the field for more than six months, he was surprised when this job was proposed to him – probably because no one else would take it.

Hayden didn’t seem bad at all. His outfit was a little unusual, mismatching socks, a tilted hat, and sleeves that draped too long for his scrawny body. Julian didn't much care for his attire though, that wasn’t the issue at hand. He wanted to know how Hayden knew people would die.

He watched him eat the waffles on his plate, staring as one of his sleeves dipped into the pool of syrup.

“Your shirt is in your food.” Julian said.

Hayden looked. He shrugged.

"People never believe me when I tell them," he said, ignoring the statement, "They say I'm crazy, but am I really? I'm not the one who ends up dead on the floor."

Julian leaned forward in his seat. "What do you tell them when you say someone will die?"

Hayden bit into another forkful of food and swallowed. "It's the angels."

"Angels?" Julian repeated, "What do you mean angels?"

Hayden picked up the syrup bottle, pouring more of the thick liquid onto the batter. It was down right disgusting, but Julian wasn’t going to argue the eating habits of a supposedly insane man.

"They're angels, but not like typical angels. No porcelain skin and people singing behind them.” Hayden sighed. “They're a lot more grotesque and creepy. Most don't have eyes and some have a lot of hanging bits.” He paused, thinking about it. “I’m not entirely sure what’s even hanging, but it’s bubbling and oozing. They don't even look human half the time, just a jumbled mess of wrinkly and compressed organs."

Julian tilted his head. "And you see these things?"

"Yeah!" Hayden smiled. He said it like he was agreeing to get dessert after his meal, not like he saw monsters. "They're not malicious,” he clinked his fork a few times, "for the most part anyways. They follow people who they're about to take with them."

"Take them where?" Julian furrowed his brow. He had never heard anything so ludicrous.

Hayden smiled even bigger. "To hell."

Julian's jaw tightened as Hayden happily tapped his feet against the floor, savoring the final bits of his sugar with a side of waffles. Julian understood why so many had waved him off, but the next words made him freeze and heart stop.

Hayden glanced at him and then gazed towards the ceiling.

"...Which is where you're going to go soon. There's one behind you…”