Siril Blackstone

Everything was clean, white, perfect. Well, before all the orderlies had scrambled in a panic at the first taste of gas that Siril had pumped into the Rosewood Asylum's halls. He whistled now, a pleasant tune, as he stalked , searching for the room he'd pried out of the clerk at the front desk before dispatching of him. There, his target. He swiped the keycard and opened the door, eyes alight with giddy joy until... until he saw Seraphim's twin.

Fire burned within Siril as the sudden wave of possession and rage overcame him. Seraphim claimed to be part angel - a foolish notion. A pair of wings an angel does not make. But this beauty? This was an angel. He had to get her out, to bring her home with him. Seraphim had locked this ray of light away, for what? Pride? No, that would not do. "Hello, little dove," Siril purred, schooling his expressions. "It's about time you've seen the daylight."