New Year, New me

TW: Strong language, gory scenes.

The remnants of a party littered the small, cramped living room, evidence of all kinds of debauchery (to put it very kindly) hanging around the place. The air was stagnant, unmoving… just like the people who lay at odd angles, looking almost like they’d passed out where they’d been standing. No-one moved. No-one stirred.

The events of the hours before came back to Rosie like a flickbook. Brief flashes of lucidity which quickly blurred and flickered to another flash of lucidity, which then twisted and warped together to form a timeline not even she could unravel. How could she? She knew what had happened.

She didn’t need to look closer at her brother’s cheating bitch of a girlfriend, whose neck was so severely broken inside her skin and muscle, the coroner would call it a decapitation. People would question how that could happen without obvious trauma… the coroner would be as confused as the rest of them.

She didn’t need to look at the way three people had the right rib broken that jabbed straight through their hearts and stopped them. Nor the people who suffered from literal blood draining… no. She didn’t need to do any of that. She knew it because she’d done it. She’d done it all. Her brother, with his desires to have a normal life and sample what it was to be human… he didn’t understand that it simply wasn’t for them.

You couldn’t be a God and live with the people.

“One day, I hope you’ll be stronger than that power of yours.” Paul’s voice sounded from behind her. “Because I hate scenes like this.”

“One day, I hope you’ll finally understand that your powers make you unavailable to humanity, no matter how many times you try to have a relationship with one of them.” Rosie nudged her brother’s girlfriend’s cheek, sighing. “You hate it when they’re unfaithful, brother.”

“I do.”

“But they can’t be any other way. Interfering with them is stopping them from being on their own timelines. If father found out –“

“Father won’t find out though, will he?” Paul stepped forward, folding his arms. Rosie ground her teeth and matched him.

“Maybe this year, he just fucking might.”

“Dare you.”

“Do you think I enjoy this shit?!” Rosie growled, pushing him back. “Do you think I enjoy razing entire hoards of people to the ground because they’ve gone so far away from their own timelines?! I hate it! I really hate it!”

“I’m sure you do.” Paul lifted his chin. “So, in the wise words of father, turn the other cheek.”

“We’re not supposed to turn the other cheek, Perecles!”

“My name is Paul –“

“YOUR NAME IS PERECLES AND YOU’RE NOT A FUCKING HUMAN!” Rosie hit him so hard, she sent him through the brick walls of the house. Paul landed in a pile of rubble, stunned. He wasn’t a strong being by any stretch of the imagination… and Rosie was far, far stronger. A trained warrior, her role was to keep everything in line. Even if that meant physical manipulation.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Paul murmured, clutching his head. “I’m trying to help you, Rashi.”

“Rashi? What happened to Rosie?”

“Rashi, Rosie…” Paul pushed himself up, defeated. “I’m helping you.”

“How? I’ll humour you.”

“You’re not able to find the humans who need to die. You’re not pruning fast enough. Your demon team are too restrained… I’m bringing the dead ones to you, and you’re doing your job.” Paul gestured around the place. Rosie looked. Deep down, something shifted, and she knew he was right, even if she didn’t want to admit it. “You’re bad at your job, and I don’t want father to find out and take you away from it. I have too much fun here, with the humans, and too much –“

“No – no, no, you’re not pinning this on me! You’re the reason they stray from their timelines! You’re the reason they need to be pruned! Your interference!” Rosie stretched her wings out. “You’re at fault, Perecles! Not me!”

“You’re not at fault BECAUSE OF ME!” Paul cried. Rosie felt her rage building. But even as the red mist descended, she understood well that if she killed one of her kind, she’d suffer a fate worse than Paul’s death. She shot up into the sky, straight through the roof.

God only knew what the police and coroner would think about what had happened in that little house on New Year’s Eve…

Rosie landed a few cities over, on top of a huge skyscraper. She resisted the urge to hit the building, and instead looked inward. Had she been failing? Had she been relying on her brother to do her job properly? Was she really that bad at her sole purpose? Perhaps that should be ‘soul’ purpose… but Rosie didn’t know any more. She thought back to all the times she’d lost control like she had last night… and it was astounding. Almost every single party Paul had thrown had ended in some kind of death spree. One night, she’d just poured a tonne of some kind of acid into a punchbowl and watched as people just dropped to the floor, dying quite painfully… that had been the worst one.

But there were none where she was lucid. None where she remembered what had happened…

Perhaps Paul was right. Perecles… not Paul. Perhaps he was right.

Almost as if the universe was waiting for her to ask that question, a ball of light appeared before her and zapped into her head.

He is right. You need to step it up. Get your shit together.

Rosie looked down at the cityscape below her. Another large room, littered with remnants of the New Year’s Eve city-wide party that had consumed everyone. And in the skyscrapers, the towering apartment blocks, people were starting to wake up, starting to see the world as a fresh, blank page to write the next chapter of a story on. New Year, New me. The phrase that Rosie and Paul both scoffed at every single year. Because the humans never stuck to it past February. Cutting entire food groups, or overhauling their entire lives in a way that wouldn’t stick because it was all so unsustainable… perhaps now was the right time to try that out, too. To go back to school for a little bit and relearn what she was supposed to do… to go back and see what she could improve on. Remind herself and others why she was the best at what she did…

“New Year, New me…”