Inside a dimly lit room, the man with chopped off wings stood over the body of a seraphim that was lying dead on a raised alter. He held in his hands a small blade, slowly dissecting the dead seraphim.
He concentrated keenly on the work that he was doing, not even taking a second to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The blade cut through the body like a hot knife on butter, tearing through the pale skin effortlessly.
He opened up the skin and placed his finger inside, then pulled it out stained with blood.
"This one would make an excellent meal." He said and then leaked the blood on his finger.
The door of the room opened and the burnt black man with a bandaged face walked in, he knelt down as soon as he saw the other man.
"For you to intrude me when I am testing the quality of our food means it must be important, so speak." He spoke.
