Asmael
Screams and gunshots rang through the night's curtains, along with the weeps and wails of broken bodies being torn apart. The moonlight shone, and with that so did his feathers, delivering swift justice on the impure beasts roaming the land. Standing above his execution's ground, the Archangel of Death's arrows saved countless wicked creatures. There was no need for fear, no need for regrets. He would end this painlessly, upholding the diligence and mercy of his lord Father. His holy wings allowed him to see everything from above, no ghastly curse or pained sound escaped him. The sight of broken bodies and the smell of unholy essence burning to ash was one he was all too familiar with.
It's alright. Do not cry now. I will free you from your impure cages and pray for you to be reborn into good souls.
He had heard of a group of vampires, they called it gang, associating to drag innocent humans into camps as livestock. What madness, and because they were preying on the poor and the weak no one knew any better. His expression bore no joy in his holy task, all he could muster was a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I should have come sooner."
Vampiric flesh burnt to dust. The light of his justice was as bright as the moon, and once his task was over he descended and walked calmly towards the door of one of the shacks in this facility. He plucked a feather from his flesh and pressed it on the locked gate, for he did not wish to destroy a creation of man. Under the miracle called forth, no door or barrier could remain unlocked, and the door simply opened for the executioner.
Ah? His eyes closed when he realized he must have missed a few. Such creatures, born from his brother's treachery, were most difficult to eradicate once allowed to grow. It was like weeds, one had to burn from the root. But still...
"Knowing you lost, you hide like a rat and bite whatever is around you in hopes to escape? As expected of your filthy kin." His words were as gentle as they were arrogant, his expression was the kindness that the guillotine shows to the criminal. The vampiric thug snarled and pressed his gun on a hostage child, one of the many livestock who were kept prisoner in this facility. "Don't move! You bastard, if you do anything, I'll blow this brat's brains out!"
As if that would help. A mere vampire grunt could not stand to an angel, let alone one of the seven. Such was Pride, the sin he loathed the most in existence. Just dealing with these worms was just like seeing him all over again.
"Silence." Pure hatred seeped from his words for that moment, and an arrow was enough to end this all in an instant. A hole was shot through the child and the unholy monster. Its tenacity was nothing remarkable, it simply died like all the others. His eyes cared little for the pile of dust, instead looking at the child who had been caught in the middle of his blow.
"You poor thing..." He smiled kindly despite it all and knelt, the white of his clothes stained with her blood. A single touch of the hole of her chest with a feather of his caused the room to be filled with light, and the wound closed perfectly. Was it not for the blood on his cloth, there would be no trace of the damage. True resurrection, a miracle reserved only to the highest lords of Heaven. He had done no wrong. He could not have, because he was beyond right and wrong. He would simply undo all of this.
"Here, don't you cry. Everything will be okay now." He had no need to speak to one who was still unconscious, but he hoped she could hear him in her heart. He would not let this stand;
He did not need to tell himself these words of comfort anymore. As the Archangel of Death, he needed to show that there would be no mercy for such heresy in this city. But how?