Re: Elevator: Inside [Increasing violence]
The moment he hit the floor and the wolf's teeth tore into that one tattered, injured wing, the angel saw it all happen as though from a distance. He could see himself, see the wolf, the carnage that played out. His screams filled the air, born of grief and pain and the loss of something so personal that he would never recover from it. This was destruction in a pure form, nothing more than that, and he wept for the wolf too, for what she was and what she was doing.
But grief could not keep him distant for long.
The world snapped back into place a moment later, the damp confetti of his broken wing raining down against his back, shreds of paper that couldn't be pieced back together again. His head was bowed, hands curled into fists, ragged breaths pulled in through clenched teeth as he tried to breathe through it, to endure. That would be what He would want, wouldn't He? For him to face this, to embrace the pain, to come out stronger on the other side. But the angel didn't think himself strong enough. Already it felt like there were pieces of him missing, a hole that gaped darkly, and he couldn't remember what had filled it in the first place.
"Stop!" he gasped out, and from somewhere, the angel gathered strength together and pulled himself up. Knees towards his chest, back bowed, the uninjured wing trembling against his back, afraid to unfurl. If only he could be left like this, still half of what he was. It was better than losing it completely.
The angel turned towards the wolf, catching sight of her and her wet muzzle, his brown eyes filled with unshed tears. "Please. Stop," he begged. "I'll do anything. Please. Just... stop." It was an offering brought up to this god of destruction that threatened to destroy him completely. The last shreds of hope, fluttering in the wind of his panicked, pained breaths.