Frankie | Azazel

Last Login:
June 25th, 2019




Gender: Female
Status: Single
Age: 24
Country: United Kingdom

Signup Date:
February 17, 2019


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06/24/2019 01:06 PM 

Pure Psycho.

She exhaled heavily, cold air forced out of her flaring nostrils. She refused to listen any more. A deranged look came to the Heavenly creature’s eyes as she glared at the whimpering man which she has struck so hard with the back of her hand that he had landed in a crumpled mess in the corner of the room. He hadn’t broken anything but the skin on his cheek was tarnished magenta in colour from the brute force which came so effortlessly from the Angel. The muscles in her feathered wings flexed as she struggled to contain her anger. 

 

“I’m sorry.. I just thought~” 

“Thought what?! What the f*** did you think?!” Frankie hissed, her fingers curling around the quivering male’s jugular like burning parchment as she picked him up and clamped her grip around his throat. Her eyes burned, gaze mentally burrowing into his skull as rage erupted in her veins. His simple comment had turned her from her alluring and flirtatious into a rabid animal who had just escaped confinement. She was far after the point of return as the man struggled to breath, coughing and spluttering at her wrist as her fingers rammed their selves into his vocals further as each second past. The whitewashed room made the golden-haired angel’s eyes almost glow, like sapphires gleaming under the ocean floor as they watched the life slowly drain from the victim. His legs shook in panic until they were still. Until his body twitched and eventually fell lifeless in her hands. 

 

“I’m the Angel of Seduction. Do not underestimate that title. I was never here for your peasant hands to touch. Your dirty, human fingers have no place on my skin. This was your fate from the moment you laid eyes on me. Death.” Frankie taunted to the corpse which was still warm in her grasp before tossing him back down on the floor in a careless manner. The force this time however caused significant damage. As soon as the deceased’s face had come into forceful contact with the wall, his nose and lip split; painting the ivory walls ruby. Madness had taken over her soul. She held the insanity that one who had never felt love would hold. Psychotic and short-fused was dear Frankie. It was no longer just a label to cause destruction in spite of her

father. This was now fun. Seducing men to their unknowing providence was far too easy. And it gave her satisfaction that nothing else on this mortal planet could offer her. 

06/12/2019 05:12 PM 

The First Of Many ~ Frankie Drabble

| Trigger Warnings - This contains scenes of a sexual nature and gore/violence| 


Her body was trembling in adrenaline, hand raising to wipe the beads of sweat from her forehead which smeared the pearls of scarlet across her head. Splatters of crimson painted her like a deadly Dalmatian as she came to terms with what she had just done. 

The angel’s cami-top was torn, one strap missing and drooping at the neck which barely covered her perk breast. The once-white material now caked in red and black. Blood and dirt from the victim’s dirty hands. 

Did he actually think he’d succeed in sleeping with such a flawless creature? 

That is what Frankie was. Her body was carved by God himself. A creation of purity and perfection. There wasn’t a lump on her body which wasn’t meant to be part of her alluring body. But that wasn’t what it was made for. She wasn’t created for men to come crawling. Frankie was an angel. She had purpose. Once anyway. 

The unknown male laid limp and pale on the floor of the escape exit from the club, stubble lapping up his own pool of blood, thick hairs beginning to stick together. It was quiet; the thumping of the music upstairs could still be heard but it was muffled. Only moments before Frankie and the man were getting along just fine. Drinking and laughing together. But as the alcohol consumed him, his intentions turned much darker. Frankie had found herself being forced into the black doors and through them. Luckily for her, the club was packed and there was no one paying attention to the vulgar male’s sadistic mind as he grabbed hold of her tee in a poor attempt to feed his eyes with more than the skin from her arms and chest. In a bid to free herself from him trying to overpower her, she had pushed him back. Frankie had not realised her own strength though. She didn’t understand that she was still very much an angel, with powers the same as before. But the alpha had not liked this one bit. A woman trying to say no to him?!

In retaliation, the man pulled out a pocket knife and was quick to corner the beautiful blonde once more, blade held to her jugular as he whispered twisted sweet nothings in her ear. 

The rest was a blur to her. Somehow, she had managed to dis-arm him and in an attempt to escape, her hand ended up lunging at his chest, with his blade in hand. In fact, she had struck him numerous times. Like slicing through butter, it was easy. It wasn’t until his torso was pumped with 20+ wounds that Frankie stopped and stepped back. The knife slowly slid out of her hand as her grasp fell limp and her sapphire gaze widened in realisation of what she had just done. Her breathing heavy and her frame shaking. What had she done?

It was a sight she never thought she’d see. A creature so pure had sinned in the worst way

Frankie allowed no time to think about her actions. After all, it was self defence – right? 
She followed the stairwell down and out the metal industrial doors as she ran into the night. 

-      - - - - -  

Detectives were everywhere. It wasn’t a surprise though. Such an aggressive and pre-meditated homicide was going to break the news. But as one of the senior agents knelt next to the body an analysed the knife and the bloody smears of fingerprints which covered the wall and the floor, both the detective’s eyes didn’t believe what they saw. Or the lack of what they saw.

“Sgt Blackwell.. come here..” He summoned his colleague to confirm what his own eyes had come across. 

“How can that be? Fingerprints that hold.. no DNA..” The other senior Investigator confirmed as he used fine black powder, dusting over everything he could find in frantic hope for a lead. He then glanced at his senior Sherlock. As if he had seen a ghost. He was gaunt and horrified. 

Nothing on the scene could place Frankie there. Nothing apart from a sole ivory feather which lay singularly in the corner of the stairwell which must of fallen loose when the bloodshed began.  

She had got away with murder. 

06/11/2019 06:10 PM 

The Fallen.

Afternoon turned to evening. The pallete of orange and pink soon disappeared, slowly following the sun as it set on this part of the hemisphere and dark navy took over the sky. Engulfing the land with darkness as the stars scattered themselves and the moon shone down on London like a fog light on the concrete jungle. 

 

London. A city which varied depending on what time of day you happened to bless yourself within the boroughs. As day turned to night, families soon began to disperse from the thousands of eateries which were unevenly placed across the City. High-class ladies clutched onto the arms of their pocket-lined men as they headed to their equally expensive homes in the West. People of all ages left one bar and found another, laughing and jeering as they did so. The roads were just as busy also. Rows of scarlet double-decker buses queued behind each other and the roars of supercars were drowned out by the horns of more affordable vehicles for most of the population. 

 

The skyline glowed and accompanied the stars in lighting up the busiest City in England. Glassy, sapphire orbs watched down upon the madness of the City. Golden ribbons which came from her scalp glistened in the moonlight as the unknown female sat 20 stories higher than the rest of the population below. Upon the roof of an abandoned warehouse sat Frankie. A sight for sore eyes with tanned, olive skin which was as soft to the eye as it was to the touch. Jawline outlined by the strands of hair which hugged her face, the petite female was sculpted immaculately. Made flawless on purpose by The Creator, the ivory wingspan which grew crooked out of her bare shoulder blades which were visible due to the backless dress which fitted her frame so perfectly was proof that she wasn’t just a sight for sore eyes. But she did not hold innocence and love within her eyes. They were dull and emotionless as she watched like a prying cat would stalk its prey. She had been on the earth for longer than any living creature.  Frankie even had the privilege of seeing things far before the ancient willow trees had blessed the earth. She was disgusted. Anger-fuelled confusion as she watched how each human below lived their life precariously. They were in such a hurry to live prosperous and fulfilled lives. Unlike Frankie. She was to be there forever. She was in no rush to do anything. She had all of eternity. 

 

The angel's head tilted back slowly, blonde hair tumbling down her back some 25 inches. She gazed at the silent skies. The ones who banished her and left her in solitary. She was caged, within 47,000 miles. She had 6 billion others around her who were consistently being replaced by life and death but yet she was alone. A bitter heart which held no love or remorse for anything. She got a kick out of ending the lives of the naive. But tonight, she would remain humble, allowing the shadows of the night to consume her without another living being even knowing she was there. 

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