Who: Damien and Bellatrix When: After the killing is done Where: In the house, ending up at the stairway What: Admiring the masterpiece of death. Err.. umm no, concerned. Yes, concerned and looking for clues because death is BAD. Rating: TBD, but probably high due to the scenes of the event
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Damien had a habit of being cautious for some time now. His secret was still perfectly kept from the humans here, and perhaps from other types as well. But there were angels here as well, one or two of which he had revealed himself to. Full disclosure and all that. But if there angels.. could that mean that agents of the opposite side was here as well? Ohh, he hoped so. There needed to be more of that kind around the place. Unless they were already and he had yet to come across any. Though.. one was quite interesting. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he walked outside, looking above to see a man go out the window.. and burst into flame. "What the fuck," he said as he shook his head. Vampire? Yes, that was the most plausible explanation. But then he saw something worse as he reached the porch leading up to the house.
Two dead bodies. Both with bullet-holes in them, the man in the head and the woman in the chest. There was a gun there too. He picked it up to examine it before setting it back down. He wasn't worried. He had been born without fingerprints after all. Damien sniffed the air. More blood. Which meant more death. Oh, he had to see more! So he made his way inside. More bodies. There was a man dead at the stairs, along with a woman seeming like one of the other victims too. He smiled for a moment. So much chaos. He loved it. "Father would be so pleased, all this misery and the Nazarene did nothing to prevent it," he said softly to himself, before regaining his composure to look serious. This was serious after all, people died! That was so bad! He should look worried, not happy.
So he stepped over to the woman just to make sure she wasn't dead. If she were one of these humans and alive, maybe seeing all this would scar her for life. Oh, if only. He stood over them, his face void of any emotion as he just.. looked at them. He could smell blood from a couple other rooms nearby. "Err.. hello? Any of you.. Oh. Nevermind, looks dead anyway, sorry. Just taking a chance that there's a survivor. But there clearly is not. So.. right, assuming you're all dead as a doornail, I may need to find a shovel to bury you all with." He paused, then spoke under his breath as a mute whisper, "Even if this is all such a nice work of art. So beautiful." Yes, someone else should do the digging of graves. No need to work when so many others were capable of doing it instead. But he could perhaps at least pretend to care. So he then turned and headed upward on the stairs, maybe he could find clues in that area. More bodies, if possible. But he could pass it off easily as just looking for evidence, for answers about this horrible incident.