Sister Jude knew she should fear death, she should hate herself for wanting to die and yet... despite the way she had always clung so tightly to her beliefs, she wanted Death, more accurately she wanted the Angel of Death, if she was completely honest, she was wondering about her strange angel. The Angel of Death, Shachath. She had seen the woman, spoken to her and now... she found herself longing for her kiss. The kiss of death.
Shachath waits, silent. She's watching Jude carefully as Jude paces, knowing she's afraid, knowing she both wants the kiss but fears what it means. She speaks softly, moving to touch Jude's cheek with a touch so light she can't help but lean into it.
"Jude... you have no need to be afraid."
"But I am."
"I.. want death, I long for it but.... it feels..."
"How did you know?"
"Because I know you... and your thoughts."
Her smile is soft as Jude breaths out.
She smiles again, tucking hair out of Jude's eyes and kissing her both softly and passionately, hating that she is taking Jude's life, but loving the way Jude melts into her touch.