This was Mikhail? Hacking apart the bodies of the dead?
“But … he’s … he’s … “ Pareesa stammered. Defiling the dead was most uncharacteristic of Mikhail.
“That is not Mikhail,” Gita squeezed Pareesa's hand. “He-who’s-not is in control of him right now, not the blue-eyed Cherubim god. If we approach, Mikhail may not be able to prevent HIM from killing us."
"But we have to stop him!" A sob clutched at Pareesa's chest at the sight of her mentor become everything he had warned her she must never become. "This is not who he is!"
The killing field stank like the place they had taken down the herd of gazelles, hacked intestines mixed with the stench of blood. The sky had grown light enough that they were visible silhouetted against the lighter grey. The black-winged visage looked up and made
