Chapter 8

Harjumägi Park, Tallinn, Estonia, December 24th, 7:41 pm

It was desperate. Azrael nervously stroked his hood for the 200th time to make sure it was still in place and shading his face. She found him everywhere . Regardless of whether he immersed himself in the anonymity of the big city or took refuge in remote, inaccessible natural spaces, he was nowhere safe from her and her followers. Really everywhere her hands appeared and grabbed him, tried to pull him with them.  

His steps led him through the deserted park. But it wasn't surprising either. It was winter and it had been snowing for hours. Cold wind whipped loads of mushy flakes on his face and clouded his vision. He could well understand people hiding in their cozy homes.

Oh, and it was Christmas. He let out an amused snort. How ridiculous. Family. Gifts. Eat. You could have all of this on any other day of the year. So why advocate religion? Why did they need a reason to get together? Wasn't that just the way it was? No matter. He shrugged and walked on, looking down at the floor.

And yet he felt somehow alone, which was of course complete madness, because loneliness was his loyal, eternal companion from the beginning. He only knew her. But somehow it gnawed at his inside and he felt as if he was slowly being hollowed out and only an outer, fragile shell remained of him. Was being alone really the best option ...?

No. Better stop it now, he scolded himself immediately. He could never work with anyone, let alone be friends. He would be betrayed and betrayed, maybe not on purpose or on purpose, who knew what was going on in people's minds, but it would happen one day. So he preferred to leave it the same. He could always rely on himself - if his feelings didn't get in the way.

Also a point where he had to work again. He's had his emotions under control more badly than well lately. And outbursts of anger were bad for staying invisible in the crowd. Because if he had learned one thing, it was that he was apparently the only way to escape her, hide had failed terribly. Several times. But how could he be inconspicuous when this world was no longer familiar to him and everything seemed strange to him? He needed allies. There was no other way. He grinned pained. He had a choice between plague and cholera. As I said, it was really desperate.

Pitrita Old Cemetery, Tallinn, Estonia, December 24, 11:57 p.m.

Azrael barely made a sound as he walked across the darkened cemetery. Somehow he felt at home here. To his right, the ruins of the St. Brigitta monastery loomed threateningly. As if by itself, his steps were drawn to the building.

But something was strange. Irritated, he stopped and blinked slightly at the ice storm. After a while he let out the breath he had been holding. He couldn't see how his breath wasn't clouding in the cold of the night. It was always at ambient temperature, even if it was minus five degrees.

There was someone in the ruins of the monastery. A single person, as the steady pounding of his heart told him. What did a person do alone in the cold on a night like this in the cemetery? That was quite unusual. And yet he was still drawn to the stone walls. Up until now he had always been able to trust his instinct. So this time he followed him too. Slowly he approached the ruin, which soared into the sky in front of him, and entered the interior of the former church through the main entrance.

In the exact center of the building was a man with his back to him, breathing softly in the darkness. His hood was put on against the cold, making him a silent, faceless shadow. Sharp wind crept through the flaws in the ailing masonry and puffed up the man's coat so that it gave it wings.

Azrael stepped up to him quietly, more fascinated than suspicious. His crunching footsteps in the snow were swallowed up by the icy storm. Hard ice crystals stabbed him in the face and stuck in his hair like glittering jewelry, crowning him Prince of the Night. The person stood there calmly and with no movement indicated whether he had noticed Azrael. The human heart continued to dance in its mesmerizing rhythm, playing such an infinitely beautiful melody.

With a fine smile around the corner of his mouth, Azrael stepped beside him and crossed her arms behind his back. Somehow the situation was just laughable. What was he doing here? Was it still very much at ease? Which person hadn’t given him any inconvenience before? But still he stayed where he was. He just had to do it, somehow his inner being forced him to. And sighing silently, he gave in. Also because it was slowly dawning for Azrael and he didn't really want to pronounce it: he couldn't run away forever. With a motionless face, he looked past the person straight ahead. And waited.

After a while the human turned to him and looked at Azrael completely unabashedly. He felt the man's eyes crawl over his face, not a single spot was left untouched. But strangely enough, he was not uncomfortable. No, he just didn't feel anything anymore. Azrael slowly turned his head and looked into the human mine. And was frightened because he knew this one. The recognition in his gaze had not escaped the human being and he smiled happily.

"Hello Marzena," said Doctor Jansen.

Pitrita Old Cemetery, Tallinn, Estonia, December 25, 12:08 am

"What do you want?" Azrael asked only icily and took a step back.

He didn't want to be near this monster. Not only had he tortured him, he had done him far more cruel things than that. Death itself would have seemed like a sweet dream to Azrael. If only he could have died.

"Well, what kind of greeting is that after such a long time?" Asked the doctor, more astonished than angry, and something came to Azrael. He reached out his plump hand to place it on Azrael's shoulder. This flinched and shot deadly looks at the man.

"She…! Don't you dare to touch me! ”He hissed full of hatred and suppressed panic and took a few steps back.

"But Marzena, I-" began the old man.

"Azrael", this cut him off and backed away further from the man.

All the anger and fear threatened to come up in him again. Azrael controlled himself with difficulty and a wild fire blazed in his eyes. He could be afraid, she was good, but he couldn't let her control him. Then would he won.

“All right - Azrael. Nice name by the way. So elegant, ”said the man reassuringly and raised both hands. He was unarmed. At least something.

"What do you want?" Azrael asked again, just as coldly as the first time.

"I ... um ... she wanted ... well I ... actually was ... is it that I wanted to see you. After all, you're something like my daughter- uh, like a child to me, "he replied with a bashful grin.

And he dared to speak to Azrael. His soul froze, ice flowers began to grow in him and took on tender buds. It was then that he made up his mind to kill that hideous pile of meat in front of him.

“And then you thought they'd just come to see me? Just to tell me that? ”Azrael said, almost growling, and slowly stepped towards his tormentor with clenched fists. This broke out in a sweat and his eyes flicked around nervously.

"Uh, I ... yes. And- ", the person stammered and now it was he who stumbled back from Azrael," I can make you an offer. A possibility that you will hardly turn down, as smart as you are. "

“And who says, Doctor , that I have to be smart? Who says I'll act like you humans? Are you sure you know me? Or do you just think you know me? ", Azrael replied with bared teeth and drove the man, who was now sweating heavily in spite of the cold, before him.

He stumbled on and on towards the dark walls of the ruin and finally hit the damp stone violently. The doctor swallowed hard and looked trembling into Azrael's deep red, almost night black eyes:

"No. But you lived too long among us humans. You're almost one of us now, ”he managed in a whisper. Azrael stopped, irritated.

They were so close that their faces almost, but only almost, touched. He felt the tremor that emanated from the man's body. A tiny prick, Azrael almost unnoticed, shot through his stomach. What was that? Anyway, it was gone and insignificant.

 He shook his head. Stormy gusts drove fine strands in his face that had come loose from his bun. Thoughtful, he twisted his mouth and turned away from the pile of misery and stared at the empty starry sky. The man let out a sigh of relief, which Azrael pretended not to hear. Should he believe what he wanted, but he - Azrael - human?

He snorted in amusement. But he could not deny a tinge of truth, however much he disliked it. Had he become weak, that is, human, over the years on earth? Why did he have to start now? He had enough other problems to fix first. Like the one that stood before him. A slight tingling sensation ran through him, as if a tiny army of ants were digging under his skin.

"So tell me man, what kind of offer is this that I supposedly can't refuse, is it that good?"

The man tried hard not to look complacent and relieved, but failed terribly at this task. You could literally smell it.

“There is a… group that offers you something to help you with. They would offer you a refuge from the people who hunt you. "

Now it was Azrael's turn to look surprised. Who were these people who seemingly so generously offered him shelter? Wasn't that a bad chance? Hadn't he only just realized that he was fighting a losing battle alone? The man interpreted Azrael's silence as a sign to continue:

“Of course you will now be wondering how they found you and what they expect in return. And of course I am aware of your distrust. But I'm just the messenger, you have to go to her yourself. "

The heart pounded frantically in the doctor's chest. He was afraid that was logical. But before him or before his reaction? Why did they send Doctor Jansen and not come up to him? How did they find him?

Anger glowed in Azrael's stomach. Did they think he was so desperate? Did he think he would crawl on his knees crying in gratitude? Do you have any other choice? whispered his inner voice, do you want to run away forever like a little child? Humiliated by his own knowledge of his dire situation, he gritted his teeth. He would never accept help from the humans, this fake, lying pack. You couldn't be trusted. Even if it would mean escape for all eternity for him.

The fire in his eyes flickered again and when he stared again at the man in front of him, all of his blood drained from his head.

"My answer is no," he said in a tone that didn't even begin to express his hatred and need for retribution, and in a fraction of a second formed HIM into a long, incredibly pointy dagger.

Full of coldness and hatred, he thrust the gun into the man's right eye, so that the point came out of the back of the head and stuck in the brickwork. The doctor died instantly. With a sharp jerk he pulled the blade out of his head and stood breathing heavily in front of his now dead tormentor. The lifeless body slid down into the pristine snow and fell on its side. He watched spellbound as blood and brain formed an ever larger pool and seeped into the virgin white.

But he didn't feel any better. What this man had done to him, no death in this world could make amends. It was too late for Azrael; what was destroyed could never be repaired.

His spirit began to sway and seething, the waves pounding violently against the fragile outer shell that held his interior together. Long cracks formed and Azrael sank to his knees, gasping for breath. His left hand clutched his chest, just over the spot where his heart was. Deep pain ran through his body and he couldn't breathe.

All the memories of that time, which he had hidden so much from himself, crept up inside him with sharp claws, further and further, faster and faster. They pulsed light and dark in front of his inner eye and he was defenseless.

A scream rose in him, made its way to the surface and Azrael welcomed him, but he distracted from the cruel images. And it broke out of him with a thundering, shaking the surroundings, made the people in the nearby town pause fearfully in their actions and made them aware of how little they dominated of this world.

Completely destroyed, Azrael only knew how to flee. With a single tear running down his cheek, he fluttered heavily and became one with the darkness. But Azrael did not notice the acne-scarred face of a young man on the top of a heap of rubble in the shadow of the ruin, whose eyes glistened with malevolence.

A forest near Tallinn, Estonia, December 25, 6:44 a.m.

They found him in the middle of a snow-powdered clearing. Azrael sat very calmly on a rock and stared at the thin layer of ice on the lake in front of him. He had placed his hands in his lap and folded them. It almost looked like he was praying. But who would answer his prayers? Who would listen to their fears and worries? He had no one and at that moment that knowledge suddenly hurt.

He didn't move when he heard the trampling behind him some distance away. Amateurs. His bloodless lips twisted into a joyless grin. Should they come. Should they take him with them. What did that change? It was too late.

An image, no a memory, tried to push itself in front of his inner eye, but he pushed it away with all his might. He didn't have a past. He had no future. He was nothing. He didn't have anything. He didn't know anyone. He wasn't nobody. Still, his thoughts wouldn't let him go.

Again and again scraps from the past pressed into his consciousness, but he ignored them and after a while they passed and disappeared into the mist, which had slowly reached out his fingers to him and wrapped itself around his mind. But it wasn't a good fog, no, not at all. It was damp and warm and it tightened itself around its soul until Azrael thought it was suffocating. But at the same time he couldn't lift a finger, even if he wanted to. He was frozen to stone.

The people came closer and closer, he could already feel them. But he stayed where he was. Running away was pointless. Let yourself be captured too. Indifference was his new friend now.

“He's up there! Target sighted. It's in sight. Wait for orders, ”the wind carried to Azrael's ear.

His grin faded and fell to the floor. Completely neutral, he looked into the distance and watched a slender hawk that darted across the lake with powerful flaps of its wings. It almost seemed to him that he was looking at Azrael. Inwardly he shrugged and stared blankly.

“Move into the immediate vicinity of the shot and stun the target person. Just stun, understand? We need him alive! ”Came the answer. Azrael gave a snort. As if he could die.

"Give me your back," hissed the first speaker and a low crunch accompanied his way around Azrael. He was very close to him now, he could hear his breath.

The man circled Azrael and came to a stop diagonally to the right in front of him in a thick hedge. People also spread out in the opposite direction and aimed at him. They formed a perfect semicircle around him. Azrael thought no more. It was empty. He wasn't nobody. He was nothing.

As if tied to the invisible threads of a giant puppeteer, he got up and strode somehow loftily towards the lake. The clouds had been loosened for some time and cool moonlight shimmered in his white hair. He breathed in and out deeply. Again and again. Each time something of his core went out into the icy winter air until he was just an empty, fragile shell.

Gusts tore at his coat and fluttered his scarf. Slowly he turned his head and found the gaze of the soldier crouching in the bushes. His eyes widened when Azrael moved elegantly towards him.

“Stand still! Don't move or we have to shoot! ”Yelled a voice behind him, but it wasn't Azrael who was moving, it was his empty body.

His thoughts flickered like a fire going out, jumping here and there. Now the mercenary got to his feet in front of him and aimed his weapon at Azrael's chest:

“Stand still! Not one step further! You are surrounded. Surrender! ”Azrael stopped short.

"Put your hands over your head to where I can see them!"

Before he could react in any way, there was a terribly loud crash and someone thrust a burning ax into his left shoulder. The pain was indescribable.

Liquid lava crept through his veins and burned him inside. With his mouth open for silent writing, he sank to his knees and felt with his right hand for his shoulder. His slender fingers clutched a small syringe. What the hell was that stuff? Another roaring pain ran through his back as someone shot him behind him and charged him again. He gritted his teeth and sank on his side in the snow. His breath came in gorges now.

"Target stunned." His gaze wandered aimlessly and stayed on the speaker for a few moments. He had one hand pressed to his ear and said:

“We'll take him into custody now and then come back to them. Yes. Roger that. Is running."

Azrael's hands, clenching and balling again, were brutally yanked back and cuffed. The world around him began to pulsate, on and off. No clear thought was possible any more. His last look before the darkness overtook him was on the soldier who had shot him first. He only turned pale in view of what he saw there.

 The world was nothing but agony. Every breath, every movement, every thought hurt. The air was polluted, soaked with poison.

"I can make the pain stop," whispered a voice, tender and lovely like morning dew.

The prisoner opened his eyes and looked up. THE MAN wasn't there. But where did the voice come from? Biting pain crept into his eyes and he immediately squeezed them together again. A plaintive cry escaped his rough throat. But it fizzled out ineffectively. Nobody came to help him. Nobody cared about his suffering.

“Please,” he whimpered, “Please. Stop. Please. ”He would never have thought to say that. But he would never have believed that such torments were possible.

“Then let's work together, stop torturing yourself. Let go, my child ”, the voice penetrated him. He just nodded, over and over. With each inhalation, the gas penetrated deeper into his battered lungs. Each time the top layer of cells peeled off and passed. Blood seeped in and ran, slowly choking him.

But he knew he couldn't die. You could go on forever, he would never be redeemed. He would never feel the cool embrace of the dark. They didn't let him go. Not until they got what they wanted. But they didn't understand: he couldn't give it to them. He didn't know how he got it himself. He just knew that the pain would never end.

A hoarse scream rose from within, too high for human ears. But they felt him and their hearts beat faster.

Osmussaar Island, Estonia, December 25, 11:00 a.m.

A venomous snake stared at him as he opened his gummy eyes. She , a single clear thought shot through Azrael, but a blink of an eye later he didn't know anymore. Coldly as a tiger looks at a lamb, she looked into his eyes. This time it was he who had to avert his gaze. Only a very oppressive feeling remained in his chest.

After blinking for a while, he looked around and stopped at a young woman in a fancy pants suit, who leaned casually against a metal table and eyed him curiously. She looked familiar to him, but her delicate face could not be assigned.

His head began to throb and instinctively he tried to massage his temple with his hand. But he didn't get far. His hand could not be raised more than a hand's breadth, then a massive chain pulled at her. What…? Still slightly foggy from the injections, he tried to sit up, but couldn't get very far because of his cuffs.

He let himself fall back dully. His eyes wandered aimlessly and again brushed against the young woman across from him. Who…? But his thoughts slipped from him as quickly as they had emerged. Tired, his eyelids closed and it grew dark around him. He just wanted rest and sleep. Dream gently and never wake up again. Never see again, never feel again, never suffer pain again. Be dead.

His breathing was perfectly steady, the air flowing into and out of his lungs like clockwork. The clack of high heels ruffled his mind.

"Was it too much, wasn't it?" Asked a voice, smoky and soaked in something unknown. Was that ... worry ?! Breath in, breath out.

“No, as I have told you three thousand times, you can't kill it that easily. Something too much certainly doesn't matter. Well don't worry about your newest toy. It won't break ”, answered someone else, young and snappy. So familiar, so familiar. Who was…?

Breath in, breath out.

“And now come and let's enjoy this special moment. Celebrate a little! You're way too serious, ”said the young soprano.

"No, I ..." began the rough voice, but was interrupted heatedly:

"Tomorrow is also a day! Now come on just this once. If you don't want to, please do it for my love. You have to have fun sometimes, otherwise you will forget what is really important. "

Breath in, breath out.

"No, I will not do that! You forget what is important! I can only have fun when I have what I want, when he laughs again and runs around like any child his age! I don't have any more time, Susann. He dies and I am powerless. So go celebrate. Drink up the pear. Have fun, but never tell me what to do or what not to do again! ”He hissed back.

Breath in, breath out.

Clicking heels rushed past him and a fine breeze floated over his face. Silence fell over Azrael and the softly sighing young woman: "Well then." Soft steps reached his ear as she also strutted past him:

"I'll see you." There was a barely audible hiss and their presence was gone.

Breath in, breath out.

Somewhere over Spain, December 26th, 8:56 am

With a heavy breath he started from the swoon. What…? He frowned in confusion and tried to get up, but thick chains prevented him. How…? He now noticed that he was tied to a chair.

"Good morning," said a young voice next to him. He froze.

He knew that voice. A chill ran down his spine. No, it was impossible. She was dead. But suddenly all confusion and panic disappeared and a deep, peaceful emptiness filled him. He was nothing. He wasn't nobody. He didn't need to be afraid anymore.

His gaze wandered aimlessly across the room and stopped at the speaker who was standing close to him. He stared at her blankly. She had a beautiful, heart-shaped face from which two bright eyes eyed him curiously. But Azrael did not recognize her.

"How are you?" The human woman asked further.

The words reached his ear, but they weren't processed. They echoed around in his head, overlapping and forming a jarring sound.

“You don't have to answer me if you don't want to. I understand that, ”she smiled indulgently at him. With quiet steps she moved a little around him until they were opposite each other:

“Somebody is coming soon who has been looking forward to meeting you for a long time. Please be nice to her, will you? Sometimes it can be a bit ... exhausting. "

At that very moment there was a hiss from the right and Azrael automatically turned his head to see more. A smooth surface pushed aside and another woman with a neatly trimmed, chin-length bob entered. Anxiety rose in his chest when he looked into her eyes. But the mist engulfed every thought that came with it before it even reached Azrael's consciousness.

The slightly older, newly arrived woman twisted her lips into a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. They glittered like icy diamonds.

"Good morning, Azrael," she said too.

Something inside him pawed and twitched at the sound of her voice, but it had no chance of getting to Azrael. He turned his head back and looked ahead dully. He only blinked sporadically, inhaling and exhaling. It was empty. The pounding of the women's hearts was the only sound in the room, apart from the incessant hum in the background. The tension was palpable.

“Well, Azrael, as you may know, you are our guest until further notice. If they cooperate and answer our questions, nothing stands in the way of polite cooperation. It would be a shame to have to switch to nasty methods, wouldn't it? By staying with us, you are helping to save the lives of millions of people and improve them for many more. A really noble reason, right? You are already a hero in my eyes. "

Azrael didn't respond with a muscle to her little speech. He stared at a hole in the smooth surface across from him. The words went into the monotonous hum around him. He blinked.

"... and that's why we don't want to waste any time and start right away," the young woman intervened and gave the other one a long, meaningful look. She just shrugged her shoulders in response and pulled a pad out of the breast pocket of her knee-length, open coat.

“First we have to examine them a little. Did they understand that? We're just taking some blood from them, ”said the boy.

He continued to look straight ahead at the wall. There was just a slight rustling around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how the older one stepped back a little and watched them both out of unfathomable eyes.

The younger human rummaged around behind him. He couldn't see it, it was out of his field of vision. And came back with two thin gloves over his hands. They hugged themselves like a second skin. In her hands she held a shallow metal bowl containing a syringe and some cotton balls.

With an almost enraptured smile, she approached him and put a hand on the crook of his arm. With excited, but practiced movements, she pierced his skin and punctured his vein. He hardly noticed the gentle pain. He continued to stare in front of himself. Nothing in his eyes indicated the fire and ice that had danced in them before.

Deep black blood gradually filled the cavity of the syringe, so that she soon started a new one. But it did not come to that, because its dark sap of life corroded the metal cannula and it disintegrated into dust. The young woman stared at the disaster for a moment with her mouth open before she playfully slapped her face with her hand:

"Shit, I had completely forgotten that. Now that's really embarrassing. "

The other woman didn't look very amused and her face darkened a little. In the meantime the stab wound had healed again and disappeared without a trace. The boy started again and with a plastic cannula it worked better.

After five well-filled syringes it was over. While the woman who had drawn his blood scurried around, the one with the chin-length bob walked slowly, step by step, towards him. Her icy eyes brushed his face and he shuddered once. She stared silently into his eyes, but he continued to look straight ahead. With an almost maternal movement, she took his face in her warm hands and gently turned his head to face her, forcing him to look at her. But he was nobody, he was nothing. And that was what she saw in his pale, blood-red eyes: emptiness. His mind was gone.

And yet Azrael felt something creeping around inside, it was waiting for the right moment. What was it? He felt her hand clench and pull something out of her sleeve. He blinked and continued to look into her cold eyes. He felt a fine sting on his neck, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. It didn't matter to him.

“What are you doing there ?!”, a young woman's voice called in panic, the hands were roughly pulled away from his face and were out of his field of vision, “You know how dangerous it is! I've told you a thousand times and you saw it yourself! "

"Look into his eyes," the older asked the younger.

"But you- "

"Look into his eyes and tell me what you see." Silence. An exasperated sigh. His throat began to tingle.

"Okay, but I don't know what that will bring ..."

"Look into his eyes!" It hissed now.

Steps. A beautiful, heart-shaped face loomed before him, staring at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. The fog in him grew thicker; he hadn't even noticed that he had thinned out. When...? But the thought was gone immediately. Azrael was gone. Somewhat frustrated, it turned away after a while and the pinned up hair was shaken.

"What did you see?" Asked the older voice. Somehow there was a lurking nuance in her voice.

"No idea what you're getting at, I-"

"What. Have. You. Seen “, it came back clearly angry this time.

"Nothing. I don't know what you want, honestly. You scare me, Anjay. "

"There is nothing in these eyes, they are empty," replied the young woman.

"Yes and? As much stuff as we chased into it, it is not surprising if it takes a few days until it has recovered, ”she said.

“No, Susann. That's not it. You have never seen it in the wild. This look, this fire in him ... It doesn't disappear from me, nothing from you. Something happened. Something so terrible that it even destroyed him here. "

“Now don't exaggerate, Anjay. How do you know…"

"While you were partying, I used the time to think." Silence answered her.

“Now that I didn't really know what to do with myself, I went for a walk. And do you know who I met there? Exactly. Marcos. He wasn't at the party, did you know that? ”Silence.

“He was sitting in the meeting room, completely distraught, staring out the window. Of course I spoke to him, as his client I am responsible for him to a certain extent. And do you know why he was so strange? "

"No I do not know. Let me share in your so infinite wisdom ”, gave the younger one as a sarcastic answer. Azrael blinked.

“He was able to look into his eyes before the injections started to work. And he saw exactly what we did: nothing. Absolute emptiness. It's like it's dead, the ghost gone. Only the body is still alive. "

“And what is so bad about it now?” The young woman wanted to know, “I mean, then it will cause us much less problems. We have to assign less staff to it, less money to put into security arrangements. It works with us and does not hesitate to follow our instructions. How the hell should that be bad, suppose what you say is true ?! "

"No, no, you're right, but still ... It's not exactly sad to me, but ... I don't know." A sigh sounded.

“Somehow I had already adjusted to the fight internally and to win now without a fight seems strangely unsatisfactory to me. As if something crucial was missing. But you're right, of course it makes everything a lot easier for us. ”Clicking paragraphs broke the silence of the room.

“We still have to be careful. Maybe everything is just a pretense, it's very clever, Susann. But somehow I don't think it's fooling us. "

“Come on Anjay, let's go. A meeting of the entire team is scheduled for half past nine, where you have to show your next steps. We'll be late if we don't go now! That would be very embarrassing, don't you think? “, Said the name Susann energetically and hurried past Azrael. She smiled encouragingly at the other woman and put a friendly hand on her shoulder:

"Dont worry so much. It's here now and can't go away. You won. "The other, who was named Anjay, nodded thoughtfully and answered almost in a whisper:

"Yes you are right. As so often. ”“ I tell you. And now come! The others are probably already waiting ”, the younger one mocked and disappeared from the room. Azrael felt Anjay's cloudy gaze on him. He blinked.

"What has destroyed you so?", She asked into the silence of the room and also went out.