Weeping Angel: Malvada (Book 1 of the Weeping Angel Series)

Chapter LII

I left the hospital with my friends shortly after talking with my parents, and we all drove to Gabby's house since her parents were at work. We knew we couldn't just sit around being useless until I got to see Henry in person, so we came up with a plan.

Tomorrow morning, I would place small cameras that Ethan had all around my house and let it record Malvada's activities throughout the day. By the time we get back from school, she'd have done something stupid, or out of the ordinary, so we would transfer the footage into my laptop, thinking this would be a better way to capture Malvada's powers and strength for some time.

The next day, school goes by as usual, the only difference being that I was walking hand-in-hand with the handsome Greek god himself.

Josh and Mason haven't fought or had any arguments ever since they told me they would try not to fight. They either have small talk or don't talk at all. Other than that, there isn't much tension between them.

Like yesterday, when we pulled inside the school parking lot and walked down the halls, people were staring at us, but I held my head high, strutting confidently and ignoring the looks. At one point today, I got irritated with the weird glances people were throwing at me, especially the creepy, pervy smiles some of the seniors gave me - I wanted to puke.

Josh, on the other hand, glared at anyone who dared to breathe in his direction, his blue eyes narrowed into slits, the veins pulsing in his neck, causing people to scramble away from him in fear.

When the pervy guys made stupid comments or cat-called, Josh threatened to cut off their heads. I almost had to restrain him from bashing a kid's head into one of the lockers because he tried to grab my ass out of the blue.

Other than that, I was feeling optimistic today, despite all the Malvada drama going on. The only thing I was tense about was meeting Henry; I was afraid he would suddenly back out and decide he wanted nothing to do with me or my family, although because of Mason, Henry wouldn't do that. The library didn't have many books, and the ones we found didn't tell us everything we needed to know. The Internet didn't have many details because not many people have encountered a Weeping Angel, and if they did, they didn't know how to defeat one.

After school, the five of us meet up in the parking lots by our cars parked beside each other and drive to my house, and I collect all the cameras before hooking the footage to my laptop, quickly combining it to one big video. We all huddle together at my dining table and closely examine the series of videos from the past eight hours.

The first few minutes of the living room footage isn't much. Malvada isn't seen until the video starts glitching and static appears for a split second before seeing her coming from the far right corner, which was the entrance. More static comes as she enters the living room in the same weeping posture, before turning from the sofa and makes her way towards the camera.

Static. Movement. Static. Movement. That's the pattern she followed as she gets closer and closer to the camera, and suddenly, her hands aren't covering her face. She's staring blankly at us, before static appears once again, but continues for the rest of the video.

The family room and kitchen footage are almost the same, except in the kitchen, there's no static, just constant staring that causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise. Feeling creeped out, I fast forward to the last recording, which is in my room.

The first minute is me setting up the camera and placing my stool by my window before I hastily walk out of my room after grabbing my school bag and phone. For the next three hours, there's nothing but the soft hum of the wind blowing through my window. I fast forward the video to six hours, and that's when I see Malvada in my room, her knees on the carpet floor, her body hunched, her face buried in her arms that were resting on the edge of my bed. For the next thirty minutes, the camera records the ostensibly still Malvada.

Ethan lets out a big yawn, stretching his arms above his head. "The statue is pretty inactive, innit?" He says in a British accent, and we all roll our eyes at him.

Gabby slaps his arm. "Ethan!"

Ethan shrugs. "Just stating facts."

Josh's eyes glower at Ethan. "We're not supposed to call her a statue."

"It's not like she doesn't know," Ethan says, unfazed, and we all stare at him like he just declared himself as the king of cows.

I'm about to stop the footage, thinking there's nothing, when all of a sudden, I sense some movement at the corner of my eye.

"Guys! Look at this." I shush their bickering, and they all turn their heads to stare at the recording in front of us.

We all watch with deep interest as the lights in my room begin to flicker, and static appears. Malvada lifts her head and stares straight ahead at my window with its blinds shut, followed by static again and constant flickering of the lights, and she's staring right into the camera. Then, she's standing by my bed, her arms on either side of her body before more static appears, and Malvada is now about five feet away from the camera. Then four, three, two, one...

I flinch when I see her standing inches away from the camera. Her face was twisted into a furious expression, her mouth wide open, showing off her dangerously sharp teeth, and her arms were raised up in front of her in an attack motion. The video suddenly freezes before white noise appears for the rest of its duration.