Tears poured forth like rain. And Azrael knew how it felt to be human again, even for awhile.
In grief, as in any great emotion, seconds pass for eternity. And hell or heaven in a sudden becomes all too real.But awareness comes only to the living. Then, so is pain... and hell and heaven! The dead unknowing is thus spared.
Azrael took it as consolation.
He took the spear from the flailed hand of Aramis. Bloodsoaked, the weapon has never been more gruesome.
The grieving is over. The blood should make up for the tears. And in his mind, Azrael knew it doesn't matter whether it's his. Of course, the slayer's blood is preferred.
His eyes burns not of hate nor of love lost, but longing... In the end, there can only be one!
From afar, the angels are watching...
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