Lucifer crossed his arm against his chest where the robe he wore appeared too thin for the winter and the snow that was yet to be thwarted. His long black hair had been tied to a loose ponytail and his red eyes was striking golden as he met the other golden eyes of the person who he stepped on. Now, the white wings of the Angel who he stepped on had been dirtied and smeared by blood with the amount of torture Lucifer had make him go through.
"I-I won't tell you! Over my dead body will I obey a word of a demon," spat the Angel. He didn't understand what happened. He only stepped a little away from Heaven to find a pure soul who would be residing in Hell when he was caught by a thin, weak-looking man who now stood behind Lucifer with his hand crossed, the servant of Lucifer.
