It was normal to be assigned a guardian Angel at some point in your life on earth. What wasn’t told, however, is what’s given out when the angels run out.

You woke up from your sleep due to a strange feeling, and was immediately startled by blue eyes above you.

“Boo.” The Scottish Accent easily detected, as were the lack of a halo and white wings. Instead, there were horns and black wings.

He stood away from your bed and bowed with a smirk - “MacTavish, at your service.”