Angel would have to do for a name for now anyway, as she had to keep moving. Although the crowd seemed to be ignoring her, if her deep seated fear of being followed was true, then she would be an easy mark, a woman wearing clothes obviously too small for her.
If only she could remember anything! Concentrating, she remembered something vague…chanting, there had been chanting, and they had wanted her to sware an oath…and a woman in black…
The rest was a haze, just like everything else. But the images in her mind screamed ‘cult’, and Angel was afraid all over again. Her newfound knowledge seemed to be a little late, as screams behind her heralded the arrival of a gang of robed men carrying daggers, obviously after her. A shriek coming from her own throat now, Angel began to run, awkward in the too big shoes of an unknown J. Anderson, her vision still swimming. Never seeing what tripped her Angel found herself sprawling, with little idea how she had reached the floor, her head ringing with her landing.
Soon the cultists were swarming all over her and Angel found herself getting dragged to he service entrance she had come from…
Mon Jan 05 23:41:21 2004