Devilstrider, or Damon Light as was his true identity, strode into the church. His tail flicked behind him and he absently ran two fingers over his ring. As always the hunger was there, the need to drain energy, or feed as he had come to know it as. Damon looked around the church, almost bewildered that he was here. He wasn't religous by any means. Yet he always seemed to search for answers in the most unlikely of places. Why was he cursed with being a freak? With this infernal lust for violence consuming him every time he fed? Certainly God would have an answer. He sighed inwardly at himself, this self hatred was always with him. He deserved it of course, but still, it was a self pitying existence and it was tiring at times. 

He was slightly startled to find two others in the church. He shook himself and pulled on his normal mask. The one of cheeriness and politeness. Course it wasn't a mask per se. He did genuinely try to be nice. A contrast to what people thought of him as a freak. 

The one kneeling was an honest to God Angel. Or so it seemed at any rate. His jaw almost dropped before logic kicked in. An epic or a freak. Not an actual Angel. He spoke, "Sorry to interrupt. I won't be here long, trust me." 

He tried for a smile.