The rain slowly fell to the ground this night, the rain felt like ice on his cold dead flesh. He sat about twenty feet outside the Monastery on a large rock that overlooked the graveyard. In his hands was a newspaper, soaked by now. Rofellos had a strange look of sorrow and glee on his face.
A wind suddenly swept up. Rofellos' long black wet hair slightly waved in the breeze. The paper left his hands and fell to the ground. The headline :"America under attack!"
Two buildings had been struck down by two planes flown by "Terrorists", thousands of people were dead, hundreds missing, in a place called New York.

This didnt phase Rofellos at all, it made him somewhat happy. Humans were eradicated, Aviation devices no longer plauged his skys, even if for a little while. "too bad it is raining" he thought

Although this whole matter made him somewhat happy...a strong sorrow had entered his body, Not for the people, not for earth, not for kindred, but for himself. Had he become that hateful? that evil? that sadistic? "Good and evil is just a term to make the weak feel strong" he said to himself
Why do i feel so bad? The humans are the [i][b]Enemy[i/][b/]. He sighed once more before closing his eye and listening to the pitter patter of the rain falling from the sky above.

((>=-| do not take offense...this is IC not OOC [damn] [damn] [damn] [damn] [damn] [DAMN]

(( no offence taken good post btw ))