From The Ward

The angels. They're coming. I can feel them now. They're everywhere: surrounding us all. They're going to come here one day. I don't know the day, or the hour, or even the week or month. All I know is that every day they get closer. Every time you close your eyes and take a breath, they creep closer to you and everyone else. They're hungry; can you hear them? They're practically licking their lips.

Some people think angels are supposed to be benign, with halos and harps and good news. They haven't met The angels. They will never know what they truly are- not until it's too late. You and I, though, we can take precautions. We know what is coming. We can do something about it. Help me. I need help.

Just let me out of this cage, let me out of these bonds, and we can run from the angels together. We can come up with a plan that will save the race and save us. We can run together and be safe and not worry about the angels. Please, please just let me out. I need to be free. I can't stand this any longer.

They told you I'm crazy, didn't they? They're wrong. They can feel the angels, too. They can hear them. I've seen their faces when I talk about the angels. They're as frightened as you are. As I am. As anyone who knows the danger truly should be. Can't you see, just standing there is doing nothing? Helping no one! You're no good if all you can do is stand there and look at me like that. I know it sounds crazy, but just listen. Listen.

You can hear them, too, can't you?

So let me out. Let me out! I have to stop the angels. Every time you blink! They're coming closer! Can't you feel them? They're practically breathing down your neck. They scare me. I need to get out of here, I need to get away, I need to figure out a way to stop them. I need to run from them! Please...please...help me.

The angels are coming.