Fan Fiction ❯ Band-Aids ❯ Azrael Engel ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Kuroshi 
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Supernatural / Sci-fi / Psychological / / Fantasy / Drama / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 11.05.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 267 | Visits: 150 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Supernatural / Sci-fi / Psychological / / Fantasy / Drama / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 11.05.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 267 | Visits: 150 | Status: Completed
It was Azrael, of all the people in the city that could've found her corpse.
Eyes dark and shrouded with the natural shadows he was so used to, and others feared getting inside, was the only person that would, inevitably, run across someone such as herself. Always, the worst ways, always the worst people; then again, maybe he wasn't the worst person. His eyes moved along the buildings as the rest of his head and neck stayed still; the only other movement accompanying him being his legs, and the slight swishing movement of his hair from the cold wind. Maybe he had been out for a while, or maybe not. It was hard to tell from a distance. His eyes paused for a moment as the rest of his body paused as well, trouble? No, blood. Indeed it was. Something strangely rare in this city; everyone was so egotistical and self contained that they had no time for murders in the middles of the streets or any muggings or rapings; no, not in this city. Eyes training towards the most probable sense of her own blood, it was. Pretty silver patterns on the ground and the building. Fractals, ink blots. Beautiful designs only made by the self-destruction of another. His head went to the side a slight amount through recognition. It must've been familiar; in that odd, demented, chilling way of his. Maybe he had shoved someone from a building, or jumped himself; no one really knew.
(Azrael is (c) ANC...Thanks for letting me use him in the story and for writing this section n.n)
Eyes dark and shrouded with the natural shadows he was so used to, and others feared getting inside, was the only person that would, inevitably, run across someone such as herself. Always, the worst ways, always the worst people; then again, maybe he wasn't the worst person. His eyes moved along the buildings as the rest of his head and neck stayed still; the only other movement accompanying him being his legs, and the slight swishing movement of his hair from the cold wind. Maybe he had been out for a while, or maybe not. It was hard to tell from a distance. His eyes paused for a moment as the rest of his body paused as well, trouble? No, blood. Indeed it was. Something strangely rare in this city; everyone was so egotistical and self contained that they had no time for murders in the middles of the streets or any muggings or rapings; no, not in this city. Eyes training towards the most probable sense of her own blood, it was. Pretty silver patterns on the ground and the building. Fractals, ink blots. Beautiful designs only made by the self-destruction of another. His head went to the side a slight amount through recognition. It must've been familiar; in that odd, demented, chilling way of his. Maybe he had shoved someone from a building, or jumped himself; no one really knew.
(Azrael is (c) ANC...Thanks for letting me use him in the story and for writing this section n.n)