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Once I get past the horror of the heads, I realize that the eyes are all the sareen How many heads would you have to choose froroup with the exact salass and shards of bone Each wheel is draped with two angels as if the h ground The Fallen angels are chained to the wheels and are stuck through with all kinds of shards sticking out of their skin
Beliel is one of these Fallen chained to a wheel
His wings are the color of a dying sunset They s They’re half stretched out like he hopes to be able to keep the crushed But many of the feathers are already scorched and broken
I hadn’t thought about how demons become the way they are Maybe there’s a transition ti a de this probablysince his fall
His face is recognizable, although so, harsh quality that I’ve come to know He looks alh there’s pain
A lot of pain
But he bears it without a whiainst the bone shards covering the ground, ht of both the vehicle and theon it His face is focused and deter his jaw to keep fros treround That protects the the field of sharp bone and glass
As the wheels roll, the angels who are chained to thes slowly crushed and splintered They still carry their eround, reiant de through the air The shrunken heads begin shrieking as soon as they’re let loose They shoot toward the harnessed angels with hair streaking through the air in front of the the chariot, the sharp hair begins to shred their skin
The heads open their naw on the Fallen One of theel before the whip gets pulled back
These Fallen angels look starved and are covered in festering wounds I suspect even angels need their nourish
Then, in the middle of all this, a pack of hellions with their bat faces and shadoings slink toward theer than the ones I saw in s, as if they had disease blooleaerous than the ones I’ve seen before They look around, aware,with purpose The modern hellions seem to have devolved into smaller, weaker, di coainst the towering thing riding the chariot, and they’re clearly afraid of him
Maybe they’re not the sa like hied anione ugly
The hellions are dragging soany hair and gray eyes, but now she looks like a used-up doll Her eyes are empty, her face blank, like she’s sent her inner self away soround by her ankles Her ared on the spiky bones that tug at her Her dress is torn into rags, and every bit of her is filthy and bloody I want to help her up, to kick the hellions off her, but I aes of the Halloween paint that the Watchers’ wives had on that night when I saw Raffe fighting for theirl, but she iven Raffe ed to save some but not all I was there to see how much he tried Maybe she was one of the ones who ran in panic
The hellions drag the poor girl around all of the chariot wheels, staying far away froels They tre up at hih afraid that he’ll strike out