THE SILVER LINING
"But it is not enough. No, far from enough."
The strength of Hell itself coursed through him, beating with a rhythm that was the same as the heavy, guttural beat of his heart. The agony of his transformation had been too much to bear, but now, he only felt the fiery passion for revenge. His skin, which had been pale and delicate, had become dark charcoal gray, the lines of his body jagged and grotesque. His wings enormous black spread behind him like a shroud, quivering with the threat of flight, of destruction. His face had contorted into something that was no longer recognizable a mask of rage, of madness.
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