The Ivory Angel
Hey guys! Another one-off to kind of practice scene building and character interactions!
The tip of the sword dug into the dirt as the knight knelt. Mangled steel and wood that had once served as his shield lay in splinters and barbs next to his shattered arm. His breathing was labored beneath the solid steel helm.
"Finish it quickly." He rasped to the devil before him.
The knights chin was turned upward by a shimmering blade, and through the slots he saw the shattered, porcelain features of the once proud creature.
It was as if a statue had come to life-- ivory features, carved with adoration for humanity. Wings of gold and quilted silk hung over it's back. The knight had even swore to see it fly. It was a sight to behold-- an Angel of God if ever there was one. But any semblance of beauty had long since left it.
The knight watched the thing's features as his chin was lifted. The robe it wore was tattered and threadbare-- accents of gold nearly visible behind the gray of dirt. It left the creature's chest bare; the knight could see a throbbing mass in the thing's chest. An unnatural heart pumping tangible darkness through the creature's body...
Until at last he was forced to look into the creature's eyes.
The once fair, porcelain face was as expressionless as ever-- but tar seeped through cracks in the monster's visage. It cried tears of blood that mingled with the inky darkness, as it pressed its silver blade against the knight's exposed throat.
"Dos't thou fear death...?" The expressionless face asked. Sound emanated from the mask, but the lips remained perfectly motionless.
The knight remained silent, before the creature asked again. "Dos't thou fear death...?"
No response came, thought left the knight entirely as the creature cocked its head slowly. "Rest well, noble knight."
The blade plunged forward... but the knight was not at rest. His body convulsed unnaturally, and the creature stood in stoic, un-amused silence. The convulsions stopped for a moment, and a final rasp left the man's body.
His soul was departed, but his body rose to march onward. A shallow husk, clambering in heavy armor toward the dawn.