Being choked to death by an extra-dimensional angel was decidedly not the way that Danielle wanted to go. She let out a few strangled noises, trying to breathe. But the flashlight helped. She grabbed hold of the statue's wrist and pulled herself up. All those chin-ups Dad made her do paid off. She couldn't escape the statue's grasp, but at least she could breathe again.

You know, for as long as her upper body arm-strength could hold out, anyway.

"It's a Weeping Angel," she gasped. "Bullets aren't going to do anything. Won't even make it mad."