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No matter how much he scrubs his hands raw in the water the smell couldn't seem to be washed off. Angel tried vigorously to wash off the crimson stains he still saw on his hands. Mentally, they were still there. Physically, it was gone. His breathing heavy, and full of panic. "What have I done?" He repeated over and over in his head. A panic expression on his face to match the panic in his breathing.

Two hours earlier...

The fire of an oil soaked rag was lit, and tossed into a darkened window. Shattering the glass, and lighting the place instantly. Someone awoke and screamed. More would be done to the other houses, fallowed by the whoops and yells of the riders on horse mounts. Some of them were on foot. Climbing the fences and leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Brandishing torches and weapons in their hands. The homes that hadn't been set on fire yet would be broken into. Quickly, the flames began to spread, and the town going ablaze. It was near impossible preventing this destruction, or to stop it. Gunfire rang out, and the echos of swords clashing spread everywhere. One of the raiders skull hit against the wall of a burning building. Breaking on impact and killing the man instantly. A woman would be pulled into an ally shadowed by the walls and out of sight of the burning chaos. The attacker slammed her against the wall, and would begin to tare at her cloths. He was going to rape her. Before anymore damage could be done he'd be yanked away from the woman. Pulled off the ground confused and bewildered. The flame of his life would be snuffed out instantly as his head was twisted all the way around. The woman screamed, and ran. The body of the attacker would be dropped as Angel moved on to the next target. The smell of burning flesh and freshly spilled blood overwhelmed his senses.

Angel had to try and keep focus. For the past few days he'd stayed in this town. A tip given to the organization, if they could even be considered such a title was received about an attack that may take place. Angel was sent to take care of it as a means to, "pop his solo job cherry" as the others had put it. Another one of the attackers had been spotted. Angel ran across the roof of a house on fire. The roof collapsing behind him after every quick step across. The bandit turned, knife raised and ready to attack. But it was too late. Angel's hand gripped the man's face firmly from the nose down. Dragging him across the roof, leaping onto another and damaging the shingles along the way. The eighteen year old slammed the bandit into a chimney. Turning and almost breaking the man's neck in the swing. Releasing him, the bandit would scream. A loud stomach churning thud blended in with the sounds of the screaming townsfolk. There was still more work to be done. Thankfully, not everyone in this place was helpless. Some of the menfolk were fighting back as best as possible. Even succeeding a little. But it wasn't enough to handle the more difficult of the lot. Those, Angel would pick off one by one. The smell of blood growing stronger in his nostrils. He could feel the rabid beating of his heart. Sweat began to form on his brow.

Angel was beginning to feel a certain thirst start to build up. As best as possible, he would ignore it and continue with the job at hand. The survivors escaped and managed to make it to the safety of the forest. Some weeping at the loss of their town while they watched it from afar. Like a massive lamp, it was burning away. From the burning flames and ashes Angel would arise. The last of the bandits that hadn't fled laying dead somewhere in the town's center. Chest and stomach ripped open with a look of terror on his face. The loose strands of hair that escaped the now messy ponytail of Angel's hair gently shook with every step. Covering his eyes like a hairy curtain from the view of others. He knew where they had all fled. He can smell them. A man with a pitchfork called out. "Who goes there!?" He demanded. Seeing that it was Angel, he lowered the makeshift weapon. A look of relief on the dirt stained face. "Oh...thank the heavens it's you.." Angel continued to walk towards the man. "Come boy, we'll notify the others." The taller man turned around and began walking towards the hiding grounds. "Your silence tells me that your distressed over the town being lost. That's alright, we can rebuild again." Looking back at Angel from over his shoulder he'd smile. Boy, was he wrong..His eyes near bulged out of his eye sockets. Face reddening, and veins popping out of his temples. Drool mixed with blood spat from his opened mouth. He couldn't turn around even if he wanted to.

It happened in a matter of seconds. Angel had yanked the pitchfork from his hand, and stabbed the sharp points through his chest. His body dropped to the floor, and he would slowly die. Angel's lips were parted. Stained with blood from the ones he'd slain. Reaching down he dipped a few finger tips into the forming pull of blood. Slowly moving them around till lifting, and licking them. The craving had hit him hard. Harder then it ever had. For the longest of times Angel refused to drink the life liquid of others. And for the longest of times, it was a never ending war. He'd finally given in to the blood lust that built over the years. Angel had lost. The faces of the lives he slaughtered will forever haunt his mind. Lingering no matter how far back it was pushed to the farthest reaches of his mind. Men, women, and children. Helpless with no means of escaping alive. Like a mindless machine he'd slaughtered them all. Licked their life fluid off the ground hungrily like a thirsty dog. He didn't snap back to full consciousness till his lust was satisfied.