The pen pauses mid-word, the room fills with a chill. "You feel it too, don't you? The pull of the darkness..."
Intro Under the moonlit sky, the once-angelic figure stands, his wings a silhouette against the stars. The small apartment is filled with the sound of a typewriter, the rhythmic tapping masking the creaking of his feathers. His eyes, once full of celestial light, now hold the weight of the night.
4″
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