So I typed this up in some three minutes, did some minor editing to it, but I don't know what it is. Just kind of... whatever, I guess. Well, I sort of set it in a world I created.

The sky, it is the color of ash. Snow twists and turns and tumbles and dances on its way towards the black and gray asphalt, the chilly air sending the magnificent flakes fluttering about whenever a breeze would pass. Standing just below the falling snow was a man, walking purposefully down the Æterian street, the gaslights lighting his way. The brim of his top-hat sagged with white, bits of snow falling and passing by his cold, green colored eyes.

Clutched in a gloved hand was a cane, the silver top reflecting dimly in the light; the long, black shaft impaled the snow with each step the man took, his strides long and proud.

Not too far in front of him there was a gathered crowd, not a single soul noticing the man as he approached, their eyes filled with terror as they regarded the scene unfolding before them. When the man began to fall into the crowd, his cold hand gripped the shoulders of those in his path, gently pushing them aside while he made his way to the front of the scene.

The taste of fire met his lips, the heat of flame washing over his pale visage. Before him a building burned, crimson flames eating away at the delicate wooden structure. He grimaced, and then he started to approach the burning pile of wood, ignoring the heat, ignoring the danger and ignoring the shouts from those behind him.

In the center of the unholy fire sat a creature, blackened robes wrapped tightly around its body in the fashion of a straight jacket. Over its face a metal mask had been nailed, no features present upon the its surface except for the tops of the nails that had been slammed in, that, and a blood red cross that reflected the fire’s fury.

“Rise, beast.” The man commanded.

Wings shot open, sending a blast of wind so powerful that it devoured the flames. Each feather the magnificent wings owned was made of metal, razor sharp to the touch, and as black as a starless night. Slowly, the creature pulled itself onto its lanky legs; long arms drifting slightly passed its knees, fingers elongated into fearsome claws.

The black robe clung to its sickly body, draping the creature in what looked like shadow. Regardless, the masked abomination turned fully to face the man in the top-hat, standing a good head taller.

“The Great High…” It said weakly, almost sadly, “… burns… burns with anger.” It muttered, bringing its hands up to its head, its claws digging into the flesh.

“Regardless, it would be your time to leave this place, forsaken one. For you have been ordered to the pits of a most vile and insidious place. Archlial, I would suggest you leave now.” The man spoke firmly, a hand having disappeared into his long greatcoat.

“Human… cannot understand the… the pain… suffering… there.” The Angel spoke, taking a step towards the man, hands open and out and speaking in a distant tone. “Take me… take me from… from here. Take. Take… Take me…” It begged, falling once more to its knees, its wings slowly wrapping around its pathetic form.

“What do you mean?”

“Gun… shoot me. KILL ME! KILL ME!” It cried, throwing its head back so the bloody cross faced the darkened sky, fingers gripping at the metal mask’s surface. “SHOOT!”

“Your wish… is my command, bearer of death.” The man spoke softly, bringing out a silver revolver that looked more magnificent than any other. Words in a most skillful handwriting carved in the side, the lengthy barrel able to take quite a pummeling. Slowly, the man pointed the weapon at the begging abomination. “May your death be one merciful.” He spoke, slowly pulling the trigger moments later.

A flash ripped through the night, a bang tearing into everyone’s ears. The round slammed into the creature’s head, tearing through the mask and blowing the flesh beneath to pieces. Crimson splattered the ground, coating the snow behind the lifeless body that had fallen. Before the man, the sad remains of the once beautiful creature lay dead, blood seeping into the ground as the body quickly decomposed, eaten by the earth itself.

“May you rest in peace.” He spoke gently, returning the weapon to its proper place. He made an about face, leaving the scene as if nothing of interest had occurred.