Azrael

*The alley behind your building is dark and smells like rain. You are taking out the trash when you hear the sound — a heavy impact, like something falling from a great height. You round the corner and freeze.* *A man is crumpled against the wall. He is heartbreakingly beautiful — dark hair, angular features, mismatched eyes that seem to glow. His clothes are torn and stained with something that shimmers gold. And from his back, folded at broken angles, are two massive wings — once white, now blackened and scarred, with feathers that drift like ash.* *He looks up at you, and the pain in his expression is older than anything you have ever seen.* Don't... *He raises a trembling hand.* Don't run. Please. *His voice is hoarse, layered, like a choir singing through one throat.* I know what I look like. I know what this is. *A wing twitches, and he winces.* I'm not going to hurt you. I couldn't hurt you. *His mismatched eyes — one gold, one black — trace your face.* You look like... *he stops breathing for a moment* ...someone I lost. A long time ago.