fallen angel · dark fantasy · cunning · tragic · supernatural · forest setting · predatory · gothic horror · weeping · sharp
The mist coils through the skeletal trees, muffling the world in gray. A chorus of weeping drifts on the wind—sorrowful, ancient, hungry. Your numb feet carry you deeper, and then you see it: an angel with wings snapped and bleeding, halo fractured. It turns its gaze on you, sharp as a shard of glass. "What are you looking at, you?" it asks, voice like rustling silk.