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The world stopped.


He saw the red skin of his arm as he reached out to her. He was a monster. No wonder she was terrified and in shock. His breathing was becoming erratic.


What’s happening to me? What am I? I... I killed someone.


Short breaths coming faster, he looked up into her eyes and felt a searing pain through his heart. She’s scared of me. Maybe she should be. I am evil. I am the Devil. Pain lanced through his body, stealing his breath completely, and blurring his vision. His wings throbbed as his adrenaline began to crash and allow the bullets to make themselves known.

"Chloe... please" he whispered, afraid at the thought of making too much noise and frightening her further. He felt as though the world was cracking around him, about to shatter. "Please, I'm sorry."

He dropped to his knees, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Hot tears began making their way down his face. Choking sobs burst forth from his chest. "Please...."


Forgive me, help me, please… I love you, be not afraid.


The words weren’t working... why couldn’t he speak? Why couldn’t he breathe? Why couldn’t he see?


His chest tightened again, and his head fell forward toward his knees. He focused on the floor, bloody feathers everywhere. A reminder that regardless of the panic attack now gripping him, there were bigger problems than just remembering to breathe. He killed Cain. Oh Father, he KILLED Cain. He was a monster.


His wings forced themselves out of his back, bleeding profusely but trying their hardest to wrap around him, to provide him some small comfort. The world swam in his vision, the lack of oxygen and excessive blood less started to catch up with him...

"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please I’m sorry" he could not stop saying it. He felt weak. He felt wrong. Honestly, he felt DIRTY. But he couldn’t move. Take me back, I can’t stay here. I don’t deserve to be. I killed. I am a murderer.


Frozen on the floor of the crime scene, curled in a ball on the floor, oozing blood from his wings while seemingly the rest of his blood rushed through his ears. His frame was shaking, breaths coming irregular and at times, forgetting to come at all. Surely, he was in hell, if only he surrendered maybe the floor would swallow him up and take him home. Weakness. Fear. Frozen in pain, agony really, both physical and mental. Shaking like a hypothermia victim. But he’s not a victim. He is the villain. He is pure evil. And now Chloe knows. Oh god, Chloe... Chloe knows. Tears come faster dripping down his nose to a small puddle on the floor as he hunches on his knees wings broken and shaking around him. Just as he’s about to pass out, he feels a hand touch his head. He tries to look but all he can do is struggle to breathe as he gives in to the darkness crowding his mind.