Bloody Painter X Judge Angels Novels & Stories

I wasn't accustomed to that. Men leaving was familiar. My father emotionally abandoned me years ago. Emilio had physically abandoned me on our wedding night but Azrael stayed. I remembered turning beneath the sheets and finding him sleeping on his stomach, one arm beneath the pillow. The black feathers of his tattoo disappeared beneath the sheets and stretched along his shoulders revealing the full tattoo on his back. The Angel of Death. One of these days, I would have to ask him what made him get such a tattoo. In the meantime, I'd traced one of the feathers gently.

Branches from overgrown bushes clawed at my arms as I darted through winding alleyways. My lungs burned. My legs trembled. But I couldn't stop. They were behind me. I could hear them. I turned a corner blindly, rain blurring my vision. And crashed into something solid. The world tilted as I collided with a broad chest. Strong arms caught me before I could fall. I looked up, gasping for breath, and froze. A man. Tall, powerful, dressed in black despite the rain. Dark eyes that seemed to pierce right through me, sharp, unreadable, intense.

Ran a hand through his hair. Covered in sweat and the smell of liquor. Looking like a damn model. Angel looked down. The suits were on the floor. One was unconscious and breathing. The other one was cursing—holding his knee. Angel can smell the blood. Salty. Coppery. ‘Who the hell is this guy?’ **

Layla's mouth hung open in a silent scream as blood gushed out from her side, soaking her dress. However before Xavier could get to her, he was pulled back and held viciously by thick shadow bands wrapped around his body and legs. He looked up and followed the shadows to three of the elders. They were holding him back? Were the shadow warriors not supposed to protect the dark angels? Why did they all stand back watching Bazaar stab the knife again into Bianca's side? The questions filled his head, expanding until he let out a frustrated roar, struggling against the shadows holding him down.

But they did not do such a hassle thing when two mere zombies died as collateral from an angels’ squabble. Really, such a system is rotten to the core. But I am not afraid to be judged. I reviewed the guidebook a hundred times over and the death of Angelo is something that could not be helped after crossing the Forsaken Lands intentionally. What a dumb thing to do, to rely so much upon their holy fire. “Murderer.” “Killer.” “Psychopath.”

Angela’s POV “Who are you?” I asked him while I’m clutching the blanket on my chest. He smiled at me sweetly. “I’m Cleidon. I’m your guardian angel.” I furrowed my brows at him. “You? My guardian angel? Are you insane or what?” “No! Believe it or not, I’m really your guardian angel. The almighty descended me here to save you.” I rolled my eyes and took the ballpen on my side table and pointed it to him. “You are a robber, aren’t you?” I took a step back. “Or maybe, a r-rapist?!”

he said turning me to face him “your beautiful eyes aren’t t be tainted with whatever bullshit this man is going through. You are going to go home, and relax. You’ve exhausted yourself enough, and I can’t keep watching you do so because you won’t be stopping yourself” “The man deserves what he’s going through” “And he’ll be going through a lot worse, but it doesn’t mean that I want you to watch any of it, nor does it mean that I’ll be lenient on him. I have information to get. However, an angel like yourself isn’t supposed to watch all that” Elijah said cupping my cheeks. I blushed at his choice of words and he smiled kissing my forehead “how about we go home now? We’ll be having enough time

As they enter the room Mike cuts some canvas cloth while Angel is preparing the color of paint she needs, Mike: "Well here... As per your request, I'll paint as well." An hour passed by Mike noticed that Angel is struggling in holding the paintbrush he went close and grabbed her hand then Mike teach her to calm down and take time, he observes something in her guide it is like a face of a man that smiling makes caught his attention is the face looks like him then he smirk and goes back to his place as an hour passed by Mike didn't check her work instead he went to the kitchen and prepares some coffee mean while when Angel noticed that he went to the kitchen she then quickly finish her paintin

His jawline defying his looks, his thin beard look so appealing by looking at his side look. I walked towards him but trying not to look bold, I was looking at another painting too. I saw he's alone when he looked at this one painting that interested him. I decided to stand a few steps beside him and looked at the painting that interest him. It's a painting about 2 different world, the upper one is light and the bottom one is dark. The painting represented heaven and hell as I looked at it more and more. "Devil and Angel." I stated and I know he turned his head to mine. I turned to him and I saw he’s smirking. My heartbeat went crazy.

From the look of recognition and hatred on Luca’s face, I realize that it is not a what, but a who. “—And here he is. God, I forgot how fast angels can move with their wings.” Luca dramatizes with his hands as he speaks. “Of course, I would forget. You cut off my wings.” What happens next is incomprehensible. A flash of darkness slashes through the air; it moves above my head and hits the three men in front of me. Immediately, their bodies are cut in two as they fall to the ground. I shriek in my seat as the upper part, up to the torso, of the man I spoke to in the tavern falls at my feet. My body trembles at the sight of black blood. At this point, I don’t think any of the creatures in Alkh