Rider Of The Pale Horse

Angel

"Something's not right, she should be much more powerful than this." There was an angel standing just outside the heavy metal door of the room Morrigan had been placed in. She could feel the heat that emanated from his shimmering aura.

Her body was darkening with bruises and scabbing wounds, she was just a mass of pain laying in the cot. She honestly hadn't expected to last as long as she had, her head felt like it had been used for batting practice. Running her hands over her cheeks she felt the swollen bumps and cuts that throbbed continuously. 

It had been a long time since her entire body ached in harmony like it did at that moment, the good thing was she could feel pain in her legs so something was working now. Things were shifting under her skin, there were no words to describe the sensation of muscles, tendons, and joints suddenly beginning to shift around. Encouraged by the prickling pain beginning to fill her numb limbs Morrigan moved her arms at her sides, working her way up until she was partly supported by the wall but she was sitting.

She would heal, there was no real doubt about that but there may not be a need depending on what the Nephilim were doing with an Angel. Death had told her about Angels when she had been smaller, about their righteous power that could turn an entire city to ash. This had been the very first time she had felt one, or ever been so close to something to pure. 

To her knowledge Nephilim were hated by the Angels, which begged the question why were they together. Gently crossing her arms over her stomach Morrigan fought off a chill, she was still wearing the dress shirt and nothing much else. It did display her gallery of bruises, cuts crusted over with dirt and blood making the skin around it tight and red.

"Shit" She cursed as the first pang of frustration hit her.

They had just picked her up and there was nothing she could do, if Kael was alive he would assume she was dead now. They all would... Glancing at the door she felt herself smile, it was only a matter of time before that was true. The lock in the door clicked echoing in the empty room, it eased open shedding bland grey light into the flattering darkness. 

The once dark and rather dingy looking hole they had dropped her in turned into something straight from a Hostel, black speckles of mold growing into the ceiling corners. Dark brown water stains spotted the remainder of the ceiling. The walls were a dark grungy looking tan with smears of dirt and something else swirling around on the bare room. Lovely.

A shadow filled the doorway and entered the room, a man dressed in a nice looking and well fitted dark slate grey suit walked into the middle of the dank cell. His hair combed back nicely off his face, Strong green eyes locked with hers and she wanted to laugh. Nephilim were like Barbie dolls, they had all the right parts but they didn't function right. This man had looks some guys might kill for, but that was it... pretty to look at empty inside.

He seemed to sense how unimpressed she was, considering she had been surrounded by Demons, and Horsemen she looked for more than just a pretty face. He moved with long strides, his body moving with fluidity. Showing off or at least trying to impress her somehow. It was amateurish, considering they had brought her here to kill her.

"My name is Lylle, I'm the Commander of this Garrison." He sat down on the edge of the bed getting to close for comfort.

"Wonderful, what's the name of the Angel in the hallway." Her eyes held his gaze intently.

Lylle cleared his throat unable to break contact, "He's here to oversee that this is done correctly."

Morrigan rolled her eyes, "Fan-fucking-tastic." She muttered watching the Nephilim scowl at her, it reminded her of the scowl that Kael would give her when she cursed.