Angels. The word was known to her for too long now. Sometimes Seraphina wondered if she was one as well. Yet she was never angelic, or selfless, or possibly helpful, as angels were supposed to be like. She murdered. The word often seemed ugly to her as she only understood it as assassinating ones who were not meant to live. The more she thought of it, the clearer she sees. She's an angel alright. Just, a fallen one.
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