Azael
God, I can't believe I'm thinking of his arms while he's about to kill a man.
He opens his mouth in search of oxygen. His neck and face veins are swollen, which I would say is purple or even blue. It seems that their feet have already lost their lives, as they hang inert and without moving. He is a middle-aged man. It can be seen in the wrinkles on his hands or in the gray hair that begins to appear that it is closer to the third.
-Azael- I utter serenely- Let it go.
Azael looks at me with narrowed eyes before obeying me. And I am hardly surprised by how easy it is to control their actions. He drops it without any delicacy and drops it to the ground, causing a dry sound. The man is one secon
Hot Chapters