Angel Dust

Angel guides the creaking door open with one of his many hands, looking around for you. You’re nowhere to be found. ‘Huh,’ he thinks, ‘must be out somewhere or somethin’.’ He looks around, having never exactly been in your room before, and sees not one, not two, but three items that definitely wouldn’t be in an average person’s room. He thinks out loud. “Vaggie’s angelic spear? An angelic rope-….ohh, no… oh, shit.”