He’d been around all kinds of angels before—for fuck’s sake he was one himself—but he hadn’t been affected like this by any other.Images sparked inside his brain, flashes of events that he hadn’t thought about—hadn’t remembered—in centuries. He didn’t like this, didn’t like it at all, and for making him suffer, he decided to make Remiel and his little friend suffer as well.The thought of the indignities that would be heaped upon the Seraphim in the bowels of Rapture made Prosper smile as he leaned back in the leather chair behind his desk. Some of his customers were real sick fucks.The memory came unbidden, like a rock thrown through a piece of frosted glass to reveal the images behind it. He saw a scene of war, and all the horrors it entailed. He had been part of the battle, fighting just as much for his life as for the cause of the Morningstar.He hadn’t yet become Prosper; his name was Puriel, and as his compatriots had died around him, he’d wanted nothing more than to run and hide until the madness abated.Prosper steeled himself against the flood of memories, trying to keep them back.
What do You think about Walking In The Midst Of Fire?
