A girl peeked shyly around a corner, her blue eyes darting every which way as she scanned the area. She cautiously stepped out from behind it, her long snow white gown sweeping the ground as she silently padded along the hallway. It was completely silent, save for the soft patter of her matching slippers. Her long golden hair bounced with every step she took, flattening against the wall as she pressed her back into it. She poked her head around a corner once more, finally spotting one of the guards she knew she'd encounter. Her absolute white wings gave a soft flutter to match the nervous beating of her heart as she stepped out from behind the corner.
"Halt, who goes there," Boomed the voice of the guard. She immediately looked down, eyes shut tightly in fear as the guard marched up towards her. He was the same as her; an angel, yet more designed specifically for combat and warfare than peace. He examined her, walking a slow circle around her before coming back to where he once was.
"Well," He asked, leaning down towards her, "Who are you?"
She looked up at him, fear evident in her eyes. "Please forgive me," She shouted, before slitting his throat with her concealed dagger.
A young girl jogged quickly down the hall, her back pressing against the wall at a corner. She panted, chest heaving underneath the short black dress. Her brown curls rested against her breasts; green eyes quickly scanning the area as she caught sight of two guards now, both tense and on the ready for attack. She gulped, her light gray wings again fluttering in time to the nervous beat of her heart. She took a deep breath to calm herself before bursting out from behind the corner, her bloody dagger at the ready.
"You there," One of the guards called out, pointing directly at her, "Cease and desist at once!"
"Never," She shouted, before covering her mouth slightly in shock at what she had said.
The other guard smirked, lifting his spear as his wings opened wide. "Heh, feisty one eh," He said, eyeing her up, "That's good, because I like a little sport!" He shouted, charging directly at her. She braced herself, plunging the dagger upwards and straight into his heart.
A young woman raced down the halls, her black hair flying behind her; it almost blended in with her ashen wings, widely opening and closing as they ached to carry her away. She looked back, her brown eyes catching glimpse of a group of guards chasing after her, their spears and swords ready to strike her down. She turned her head forward once again, halting as she came before a large wooden door. She turned around, a smirk on her face as the guards also halted.
"There's nowhere to run," One of them shouted, their spear aimed straight towards her heart. She shrugged, lifting her blood covered arm to her lips; her tongue darting out playfully to lick the metallic liquid from her arms.
"That's what you think," She said, lowering her arms, "But honey, you ain't seen nothing yet."
And with that she charged towards the guards, her glistening dagger glinting along with their armor.
"Please God, please don't let me be too late," A young man thought as he raced through the halls. He wore a white suit, hair a bright blonde and eyes an innocent blue. His snow white wings were flapping in protest, seemingly knowing that if he were to just use them he would get to his destination faster. But his wingspan wouldn't allow it; it was far too large for a hallway this size. So instead he would have to settle for sprinting down the halls, senses being barraged with the sights and smells of bloody carnage.
"Please Seraphina, please," He thought again, coming into the final hallway. He panted, hands resting on his knees as he caught his breath.
" He panted out, wiping the sweat from his brow. He lifted his head up; his eyes widened in horror as he saw the large oak door opened enough to allow someone to slip through.
Someone of Seraphina's size to be exact.
"Dear God, no," He shouted, sprinting towards the room. He burst through the doors, eyes growing wide at the sight. The room was in chaos; clearly a massive struggle had occurred. Lying on the floor in a massive pool of blood was an elderly man; his white hair stained with blood, his glassy blue eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling above. And there, standing on the windowsill of the open window, stood his murderer.
She had changed immensely during her journey. Her once blonde hair now a vibrant dark shade of red; her eyes were still blue though, only now an icy blue instead of a clear sky blue. Her white gown was replaced by a tight black corset and denim short shorts; instead of slippers she wore knee-length boots. On one wrist was a spiked bracelet, the metal of the spikes matching the visible patches of metal on the dagger. Her once beautiful white wings were now a pitch-black, giving the final evidence that he needed to explain it all.
"Seraphina, why," He asked, falling to his knees. She looked back at him, a blank expression on her face. She blinked once, showing no emotion whatsoever; not an inkling of anything that they were or might have been.
"Your God is dead," She simply stated, "And now, their souls are mine," She said, her black wings unfurling to a wingspan that rivaled his. She turned back towards the window, ignoring his cries as she leapt from the room, flying away from the place she once called home.
She had fallen.