Fallen Angel

Jenny tapped her foot, listening to Chumbawamba play on her headphones, wasting time in the usual comic shop. ...and tell him, "Mary is no more a child!" / It's raining stones, it's raining bile / from the luxury of... It was a decent enough place, as long as the cranky fat man didn't bother you too much. He owned the place, and wasn't shy about telling people to "buy or get out" if he was in that sort of mood. And he usually was. He grudgingly let Jenny stand around, mostly because more boys came around when she was there. They had an Understanding. It was a slow day. Joey had been in earlier, wandered around for a bit, but when Jenny didn't say much to him, he bought a few comics and left. The Fat Man glared a little at her, but Joey was an annoying kid, anyways. The door open, the bell rang, and in walked an angel, all blond hair and black leather. She was a little taller than Jenny, older too, maybe as much as 20. Her hair was short cropped, and golden blond except for the tips, which had been dyed pink. She wore a short leather jacket over a teal t-shirt that showed her navel piercing, and her tight low-cut pants accentuated the roll of her hips as she walked over to The Fat Man. He, of course, couldn't keep his eyes off her. He was never very subtle. She got to the counter and, leaning over it, indicated the top shelf behind The Fat Man, the one that held the Adult's Only magazines, with their covers strategically obscured to hint enough without revealing anything actual. "You sell very many of those?" she asked in a melodious voice. The Fat Man grunted. "Enough. What's it to you?" "'But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart,' Matthew five, twenty-eight." she recited. The Fat Man's face turned red. "Christ! Look, Missy, I have a store to run, and if you thin-" There was a flash of motion, and he cut off suddenly. The Fat Man reactively clasped a hand over his throat, streams of blood dribbling between his fingers. The girl was holding a small knife in her hand, a thin line of blood marking one edge. She stepped back as The Fat Man staggered into the shelves behind him, knocking a few statues off, and he slumped to the ground. His eyes never left her. She turned, replacing the knife inside her short jacket. On her way to leave she saw Jenny, wide-eyed and clutching her CD player defensively. She bent over to be eye-level with Jenny. The girl's eyes flashed like green fire. "Jesus loves you," she said. And left.