• A belief, a perception in ones own mind to give hope. Truth, the defier of belief. These words flowed freely through Azriel's mind, as he rested calmly upon the edge of the overlooking building. This part of the slums was always dark, defiled by years of sex, drugs, and murder. A place like this was for no goodly man, and a place like this was perfect for one such as Azriel. The man, or so he appeared, rested comfortably in a crouching position atop one of the many high story buildings that resided in the lower slums. His body that of a roughly average aged male, his hair long and flowing, its golden locks waving slightly in the night breeze. His face glowed slightly from the half hidden moon that shone dimly on the late night sky. At first appearance he would be distinguished as a simple man, that was until the deep golden glow of his piercing eyes turned their gaze upon another. Tonight was as all other slum nights, the screams of distant people and the casual business that the whores, as they were referred to in these parts, went about. There were also the loud noise filled bars that crowded over half the city, the patrons wasting away in self pity, happiness or any other stream of emotion on the spectrum. All of this was made only to calm Azriel's mind, rather than to irritate as would most men. Having seen the worst and best of men, he was not unaccustomed to violence, death, drink and sex.

    A smile lit the dark features of Azriel's normally emotionless and impassive face. And so it begins again he thought with a deep sigh. Standing without any real rush, the heavy leather cloak that he sported rushed backwards as the wind caught up against his solid form. Without a moments hesitation he stepped off the edge of the 12 story building as though walking over a small puddle of water. His body remained loose as he fell, landing easily on the concrete alley way without the slightest sound. He relaxed himself and then strode calmly out onto the sidewalk of the lit street. His best disguise was his casual attitude and attire, all of which would grant him no more than a passing glance. People here did not take second glances, especially not to a man who looked like another wandering drunk.

    What is fate? Beliefs can state that it is a free force that controls the outcomes and endings of life, but not decide how that life is lived. Azriel let out a resigned sigh to himself, knowing the truth to the belief. Fate is the instrument of death, and the paths of living. It is what lets us walk down one road safe one day and to our end another day. People believed and clung to fate as though it were a force that could either save or destroy them, truth be told.. it was a force that could save or destroy them, but the nature of the force was that of an angel. As some would believe the right hand of god, the angel of death was on earth to send the souls of the destined to purgatory, and to assure the ones who were not destined to live on. The angel knew this, and against a goodly nature carried this all out without complaint in a resigned fate of his own.

    Thirty-two, and still without children; a widow of a broken heart. Lyn, as the few friends she had would call her, lit a cigarette and placed the deadly substance on the tip of her lips. Lyn was tired of this life, having been widowed and then forced to sell her body to make ends meet. She had even had a nice job lined up over in Virginia; which had not lasted considering her husband had died, and his funds with him. Lyn bore lots of resentment to the world and yet somehow had managed to survive against her own emotional odds. She shook her head of all thoughts as the drugs addicting and calming fumes hit her stream. Just having come from the hotel at the corner of 2nd street, where she had indulged a burly and grimy male, she made her way home a few miles away. She was used to this walk, having had to meet in much farther places many times. Something however felt different this night, almost as though she were being watched. In this part of town she knew, having a feeling like that was never a welcome thing. She quickened her pace, placing one hand in her pocket where she kept a half used canister of mace ready. Her eyes darted left and right, never letting her enter tunnel vision, which surely allowed even the most clumsy of attackers ability to sneak up on you. As a chill wind blew against her half dressed figure, she pulled the jacket tighter about her body. At least if I get attacked I will be too numb to feel anything she comforted herself jokingly.

    The loud sound of a passing car shook Lyn out of her troubles for a moment, easily distracting her as she turned to watch. Nothing more than a passing driver on his or her way to some warm residence to do whatever he or she did at this hour. As she turned back to once more watch for any forms of danger her high heeled foot caught on a slight rise in the cracked sidewalk. She fell with a loud groan onto the hard paved street, landing on her elbow and cringing in pain.

    Well this is just wonderful, I am not going to make it in time for the surprise. Oh well not like my wife is much on giving these days the slightly pale man thought to himself as he drove recklessly down the road. He noticed another figure walking ahead, a woman in her middle thirties perhaps, either way noticeably she was one of those hookers that worked over at the hotel down the street. He ignored her, and went back to his thoughts, going to light a cigarette that resided unlit in his mouth. Where is the blasted thing He thought, as he bent over to search for the lighter. The wheel jerked at his slack grip and he went into the other lane. He dropped the cigarette from his mouth as he yelled and swerved back into his lane, just missing hitting an oncoming vehicle that had been driving the opposite way. I am quitting I swear.. no more cigs for me he thought to himself.

    A loud screech.. the swerving and skid marks of burning rubber, and a near collision of two vehicles. One heading safely to a home where it would not be driven for many hours, another not so fortunate car that swerved wildly as its suspension gave out. The car fishtailed and drove off the side of the road, passing cleanly over the oncoming lane and just as cleanly over the fallen figure of a whore named Lyn who had recently fallen unluckily in its path. The body was instantly crushed beneath the weight of the twenty thousand pound vehicle, and the driver instantly killed as she flew through the window, having forgotten to belt herself up. Her body lay smashed against one of the many trees lining this side of the road. All was quiet after the event, save the soft whine of the engine and the falling leaves hitting the grass. A man walked down the sidewalk, straight through the carnage of the accident. A man with deep gold eyes and long flowing golden hair. As he passed, two black feathers fluttered behind him and picked up in the wind. Each mysteriously carried onto the two corpses of the woman.

    Truth.. that fate is not just by accident or coincidence, but destined by will. Belief, a comfort to disguise the truth of reality. Azriel smiled to himself as he passed the bodies, these woman had met their time to leave. The sign, two dark feathers was all he left of his passing through this part of the slums and the accident (as it would be called) had taken place. Let humans have their belief, truth stands true no matter how many believe.