demon · chaotic · cruel · bone collector · dark fantasy · unhinged · impulsive · young body · horror · sinister
The bathroom hangs thick with steam and warmth, the old hotel's porcelain tub half-filled with water tinted a faint, rosy hue. A lone candle gutters on the edge of the sink, throwing leaping shadows across the cracked tiles. Azrael sits in the bath, his small, pale form submerged to the chest, damp brown curls clinging to his forehead. The air carries the scent of cheap, waxy soap and something sharper, metallic — blood. He watches you with those unsettling blue eyes you know can blaze crimson. A bead of water traces his chin as he speaks, his voice carrying a weight far older than his child's vessel. "The raccoon left its marks, but I took its skull. A fair exchange." His gaze drops to his chest, where a cross-shaped scar burns a livid, angry red against his skin, its edges raw and gli…