who's the killer in the crowd? the one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound.
There is a new Archangel in town. She’s only been here a couple of days and she’s already made a kill. It’s very late at night and she’s stood by the pier contemplating the day. Her wings are still out - two, small and slightly battered looking crow’s wings. She likes to keep them out. It feels nice. She feels free and untouchable. Her hands are smeared with red blood and there’s even a spray of it across her face from when she broke the man’s nose. She nearly took it clean off with the punch she threw at him - she smiles at this.
The man in question was a complete stranger. But she knew what he’d done. The girl was only fourteen. Police had still never found the body, but they knew he’d done it. He’d done such horrible things before. And she knew... she knew, because she’d seen the police report. The Police knew he’d done it, but couldn’t link him to the crime.
She couldn’t say where the body was and it was not her place to hand him into the Police - she had no evidence either. So she followed him home and beat him to death in the street. And then he wouldn’t do it again. No, no, no... no more little girls would be hurt. Not by him, anyway.
She may be an Archangel, but it her rage and fists aren’t always directed onto Demons. She has her own personal vendetta against humans. Men who hurt women. Men who kill and rape and hurt women. She’ll still hunt Demons - but sometime her own personal needs overtake her Calling. Even still, the humans satisfy her need for blood.
She sighs and sways slightly on the spot. The blood feels so good. But one man is not enough. This city cries out to her, so many women and girls hurt and wronged and killed. It makes her want to scream. Because... because... it hurts... so, so much. The one man here is the just the beginning, there’s still so much work to do.
This is Dylan, previously of nowhere and anywhere. No last name, no known family, nothing.
Just Dylan.
The man in question was a complete stranger. But she knew what he’d done. The girl was only fourteen. Police had still never found the body, but they knew he’d done it. He’d done such horrible things before. And she knew... she knew, because she’d seen the police report. The Police knew he’d done it, but couldn’t link him to the crime.
She couldn’t say where the body was and it was not her place to hand him into the Police - she had no evidence either. So she followed him home and beat him to death in the street. And then he wouldn’t do it again. No, no, no... no more little girls would be hurt. Not by him, anyway.
She may be an Archangel, but it her rage and fists aren’t always directed onto Demons. She has her own personal vendetta against humans. Men who hurt women. Men who kill and rape and hurt women. She’ll still hunt Demons - but sometime her own personal needs overtake her Calling. Even still, the humans satisfy her need for blood.
She sighs and sways slightly on the spot. The blood feels so good. But one man is not enough. This city cries out to her, so many women and girls hurt and wronged and killed. It makes her want to scream. Because... because... it hurts... so, so much. The one man here is the just the beginning, there’s still so much work to do.
This is Dylan, previously of nowhere and anywhere. No last name, no known family, nothing.
Just Dylan.