And then they saw me in the dead of night, my wings spread, my lips parted in death's cold but curious grin. I was a beautiful happening, and all they could do was stare in awe at me as their lives stuttered to a halt. But what could they do? Perhaps I would have spared them if they had begged some more but then again, death is wild and untamable. Who's to say I would not have killed them anyway?