God's Forsaken

Chapter Four

Hums bounced off the green wall paper, while a foot tapped upon the cement floor. On the right side of the store were counters pressed up against the wall. Scissors, gels, and combs intermixed with bloody pliers, knives, and a saw on a checkered table cloth.

Two sets of reclining chairs were in front of the counters. A human reclined in one of them with a dazed expression. A squid stood next to him, one of its pale blue tentacles coiled around an arm. Two others held a pair of scissors to an infected pointing finger. Michel remained silent so the squid could do his work.

With a blink of his dark blue eyes, the squid snipped the finger at its base. The digit plopped into a bucket. Before blood gushed out, a fourth tentacle pressed a piece of gauze to the wound. A fifth limb tied a bandage into place. The remaining three tentacles allowed him to stand.

Once the bleeding had ceased, the squid turned a bright, happy green. The freed limbs grabbed a clipboard and pencil. He wrote in neat, yet loose writing.

"There you go," wrote the squid. "What did I tell you? With that gas, you didn't feel a thing."

"Thanks Critil." Stumbling to his feet, the human tried offering a hand. He nearly toppled into the bucket with his finger. The squid's quick tentacles saved him from the nasty tumble.

"Careful. It'll be a little while before the drugs wear off. Michel, care to sit this man down?" With a nod, the angel retrieved the human. He placed him in one of the cushioned chairs lining the south wall.

Patting Michel's wings, the human giggled. "Pretty feathers." The angel felt a bit of pride as he stretched out his wings. It generally took him a good hour just to clean out all the gunk - yet the human should keep his hands to himself.

A tap of wood against wood drew the assassin's attention. The squid's color had turned from a gentle green to a more humorous yellow.

"Spare him the grief. The gas is talking."

"We need to talk, Critil," said Michel in a stern tone.

"About the assignment. Of course, meet me in the back."

Leaving behind the scissors, Critil strolled through a door with Michel closing it behind them. Crammed into the room, the assassin tried to get comfortable in front of the table. It was hard to do with only a few inches of space. The squid climbed up a table leg to a large glass tank.

Critil plopped into the seawater, disturbing the small colorful fish swimming around. The tank mates fled, but one unlucky fish was nabbed by a tentacle. Critil threw it in his beak and chomped it down in one bite. As he did so he held his notebook and pencil over his head to speak.

Michel dropped into a wooden chair and noticed the decorative castle in the tank. Sanded coral had been shaped into towers. Spirals poked out of the water. Critil once told him that the replicas matched the glory of the underwater kingdoms' great fortresses. Lacking the gills to verify this fact, Michel accepted it at face value.

Merfolk, claiming the seas as their origins, spent thousands of years cultivating underwater nations. In ancient times, they raided the land dweller ships for spoils. The creation of airships and merfolk integrating into land nations' societies had dampened their naval power, but Michel would never want to get in a fight with one of the merfolk in the sea.

"Good job as always, I assume." The squid reached into the castle. "Just show me the head or picture and we can be done."

"Yeah." Putting his suitcase down, Michel opened his wings. His finger traced the soft feathers edges. He almost wished to deal with Vipa rather than admit his mistake. "I got the job done, but there was a bit of a complication."