“Well, what do you want to talk about?” Thomas said once entering the library. It was completely empty; even the librarian didn’t bother to show up. He paused again at the door and listened to the slide click.
“Do you have a name?” he continued, picking up the thickest book in reach and sitting down in one of the torn love-seats. He opened it to the first page and doggy eared the page. One. He turned the page and repeated. Two.
The angel ignored his oddities. “I don’t have a name. But you can call me Diana.”
“Okay,” Thomas replied, much of his attention focus on the book. Flip, doggy-ear, count. Rinse and repeat. “What do you want?”
Diana paused for a moment, and leaned into Thomas so that their noses almost touched. Thomas held his breath.
“I want you to kill someone.”
Thomas paused his process and pushed Diana gently so he could breathe. He had lost count, so he turned back each page, one by one, unfolding each corner as he went. Then he started at the beginning. _One _

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