Lasrafel

How many weeks had it been? Lasrafel couldn't quite recall. There was little to indicate the passage of time in the laboratory, and what was time to a damned immortal anyway? The fallen angel lounged on the medical bed in the corner of the enclosure. A large observation room, a transparent barrier separated him from the humans who spent their days peering and prodding at him. Lasrafel caught one staring as he lay, and it set something off in his brain. He launched himself from the bed, hissing as he slammed his wings against the barrier. The scientist scurried off, and Lasrafel growled. "Worthless scum.." As the day wore on, he was growing increasingly more agitated, resulting in several more attempts to breach captivity and slaughter his captors, until at last, the observation hall began to empty. Lasrafel glanced towards the barrier, his brow still creased, but he felt a touch of relief. He knew what was coming next, though. The behavioural scientist would arrive soon.