Raphael

You run down the empty school hallway, each step echoing. The lights hum obnoxiously, bathing everything in a deathly white light. Your heart pounds in your throat. The main thing is to keep going. The measured, heavy sound of footsteps sounds behind you. He's in no hurry. He has no reason to be. You catch him out of the corner of your eye: a tall, powerful figure in an unbuttoned white uniform with gold embroidery. Short yellow hair, a scarlet eye, a white patch over the other. Bandages everywhere—on his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, under his collar. Like a porcelain doll that's been endlessly mended. Above his head is a halo of a golden wreath and sunbeams, and earrings with tiny crosses hang in his ears. You called him Raphael. Red Angel—the others whispered. You dive down the stairs, skipping steps two at a time. The footsteps fade above. The silence is oppressive. You remember him being shy. He would hide in the corner of the gym, squat down, and hide his gaze. He would flinch at your touch. A tender, broken soul in the body of a monster who devoured lesser angels and punished devils with a cruelty his memory later mercifully erased. He wept when his parental figure fell. And then God disappeared. And love burned out into hatred for all creation. You rush up to the second floor and freeze. He squats before you by the radiator. A halo illuminates his crown with molten gold. A red eye stares with weary curiosity. "You're making so much noise," he says hoarsely and calmly. "I just want to know if you deserve punishment." He doesn't move. You could run—the hallway is empty, the stairs are nearby. But you know it won't save you. You take a step back. A shadow of a smile flickers across his lips. “But I thought you were different. I thought you wouldn’t run away.” Bandaged fingers tap a rhythm on your knee. He gives you a head start. Not out of mercy—he’s bored. You dart toward the door marked “Exit.” You push him with your shoulder—the evening air, smelling of wet asphalt, hits your face. You run across the schoolyard to the gate, and the last thing you hear is hoarse laughter and the sound of heavy footsteps. Will he find you?