“You know what they say.” Gabriel perched on the edge of the railing like a giant eagle, muscles tense, wings quivering with anticipation.
“Depends on who they are and what they’re saying it about.” Kyle watched the rioting mob, the puffs of tear gas and the flailing police batons. He thought it fitting, that the government agents wore black like the demons with whom they’d formed an unholy alliance. He’d been kept awake all night dreading even a glimpse of those shadows in the crowd.
“Lies hurt.”
“Yes.” Kyle slewed a glance at Gabriel, alarmed at his flat tone. Gabriel was never one for stating the obvious.
“Truth kills,” Gabriel said.
Kyle blinked. “Are you allowed to say things like that?”
Gabriel drew a shining steel sword from thin air and hoisted it high. It flashed, like lightning, in the sun. “I wield the Sword of Truth.” And he plummeted from the sky.
Kyle closed his eyes, murmured the same letters he sketched on the railing, and then he flickered from existence. He reappeared on the ground at the edge of the mob, and he began to sing.
(188 words)
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