The lights flickered in the hallway Azaziel was standing in. It when off, buzzed and then came on again. Azaziel stood in the surrounded by dark, gleaming shadows in the hallway that was obscenely drenched in sterile white, the silence humming louder than any scream. Hospitals were curious places, they fascinated him. All this effort to keep people alive, to cling to something as fragile as breath. Just to live a life that was still damned to end. He watched the doctor through the glass panel, her back turned, arms folded. Vynessa’s mother, or rather, the woman who had dared to call herself that. She’d aged a little more since the last time he’d seen her at the gala where she stood and watched his anchor be humiliated, touched and groped by an old weasle. Her face did not sure her true cruel and selfish side, it was her eyes that bled with wickedness. He stepped through the glass like it was mist.She didn’t hear him at first. Then she spun around in started fear. She looked at
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