Angie Angelica-Love in decaying hearts

*This story is underneath my folder titled “Love in decaying hearts”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33[2]”. Enjoy!*

Eight year old Angie Angelica furrowed her eyebrows as she heard running down the hallway. She wasn’t sure what was running in the hallway or why, but it sounded like there were people chasing after something that was incredibly and unexplainably fast.

It was her eighth birthday and she was celebrating it with her older ten year old sister, Melanie, who was on the couch next to Angie, writing in her journal at the moment. Or was she drawing? It didn’t matter, she just wasn’t paying attention. Melanie had recently got into writing and she wouldn’t stop, not even for one second. It was annoying enough that she had rarely ever played with Angie in favor of drawing, but writing? Did she really prefer paper over real life?

That was alright, because Mom and Dad spent time with her! And they were gone at the moment because they were getting a gift that was even better than all of the other gifts Angie got! She’d just have to wait and-

A puppy with curly brown fur, curly like fusilli noodles, brown like deer, had jumped onto Angie’s lap! It was licking her face profusely, so much so that Angie couldn’t help but laugh as it did so.

“We wanted to give it to you in a box but it ran away from us.” Mom said, coming in from the hallway, Dad next to her.

“That’s alright, he’s here now. He’s a boy, right?” Angie quickly added, hoping that she hadn’t made a mistake when talking about the dog.

Her parents sat next to her on the couch, Dad smiled and said:

“Yes, he’s a boy.”

Both of her parents were grinning, Melanie was still scribbling on her journal, but it was all fine, because Angie got a puppy and she knew exactly what to name him!

“I’m going to call him Scotty!” Angie beamed, for that seemed like a perfect name for a dog and she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Fourteen year old Angie hazily opened her eyes as the blurry white haze of the moon cast its pearly shadow onto her room. She was asleep before but she didn’t quite remember her dream, for it was all a confusing jumble of colors and noises, noises that were loud and grating and disturbing.

It was a few days after she and her family moved away to a house that some Great-Great-very Great Aunt of hers and Melanie’s, “Fiona Angelica” lived in with her family during the 1860s. Angie didn’t understand why they moved at all, because Fiona’s old house was full of mold and cobwebs, there was a heavy sour stench in the air and it was just…disgusting.

Melanie liked it, of course. It was dark and dismal, like her. Melanie didn’t have any friends back home who would miss her, didn’t have any friends that she’d have to resign to calling and texting, unlike Angie, who wished that she could just run back home to her friends and hang out with them, maybe get ice cream with them and have Scotty tag along. Nothing could go wrong with Scotty lolling his tongue out, brown eyes looking up with sheer joy at Angie and her friends. He was such an amazing companion, her best friend and-

Something in the air absolutely stank. Angie was used to smelling something bad in the house, but the scent she got a whiff of was akin to curdling rot, like food that went bad, but it kept layering and layering…

Angie’s eyes drifted down, to her right side, where Scotty lay next to her. He lay next to her, but he wasn’t moving. He was covered in his own blood, his body limp and weak, his eyes staring off into the distance lifelessly.

Tears blurred her eyes as she stared at Scotty, hardly believing that he was truly dead, that it wasn’t a nightmare, that-

“Don’t cry. Melanie hated that dog, so I got rid of it. We’re going to run away together and I’ll make sure that nothing ever harms her.” A boy’s voice said, soft and smooth, like the stars would sound if they had been made into music.

For the first time, Angie noticed the tall, gaunt, pale boy with sweeping black wings, wings that matched his hair and his suit. He blended in with the shadows, save for his ghost white skin and deep rose red eyes. He stood next to her dresser drawers, close to the window and he grinned at her with a dazzlingly white smile that had red spots of blood staining it like polka dots, two of his side teeth more pointed than the others. He looked like he was sixteen, the same age as Melanie, but there was something about the way he looked at Angie that made her think that he was much, much older, older than anyone on the planet, older than what was possible for someone to be.

Angie knew very well that Melanie and Scotty always had a difficult relationship with one another, with Scotty often running into Melanie’s room and ripping up her art journals, but that was because he wanted to play with her! If Melanie didn’t want Scotty to rip up her art, then she should have hid it in a better place and actually spent time with him! It wasn’t his fault for being a dog!

Surely, there was no way Melanie actually asked the boy-if one could even call him that-to kill Scotty? She wasn’t that cold, was she? She wasn’t even cold at all, she just liked to be alone a lot and Angie had to try and talk to her, give her grace. She’d talk to Melanie right after the nightmare was over, right after she woke up.

“I’ve got to go now, my love is waiting for me. Again, don’t cry about it, because he deserved it.” The boy said.

He walked towards her window, which Angie noticed was open and then, she remembered that her dream included sounds of frantic barking, something that she thought was a distant sound her brain had created. Her thoughts were twisting with guilt as she watched the boy jump out her window and fly towards the attic, rubbing her eyes, pinching herself, anything to wake up from the Hell that had presented itself to her in the unforgiving mist that was the late night and early morning.

Yet still, Scotty lay as a bleeding, mangled, nearly formless heap by her side, killed by a strange, cruel boy who was running away with her sister.

Was there anything Angie could do? Would Melanie even listen to her?

Did Melanie seriously, genuinely want Scotty to die?