Seraph

It was too late to help. What little blood they had left was draining out faster than they could heal, and they would be dead in less than a day. As they trashed wildly, wings and other assorted limbs parted from their flesh only to retract moments later or be crushed under their writhing body.

I couldn't help but pity them. They had deluded themselves into thinking confronting her would end any other way, yet I couldn't blame them. Years of stewing animosity and a lust for revenge culminated in being drained and thrown away like trash. There was something human about how desperately they scanned their environment, trying to find her. Feeling this much anger and betrayal was something their godly counterpart simply couldn't do, and I respected them for it.

I was still taken aback from the cruelty of it, but I had to make a decision: finish them off and harvest what was left of their blood while it was still viable, or let them die in peace.

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I was in the mood to illustrate something, so I decided to draw Nim's demise.