"It's so... Serene... Isn't it?" A tiny smile crept across my lips. A gust of evening wind whipped my snow white robe and shining golden hair roughly, but it fell back into place just as neatly as before, seemingly untouched. My eyes closed, and I gave a short, soft chuckle, leaning on the railing of the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the brightly lit city of Paris. In truth, the lights were not man-made. No, not electrical lights, but brightly burning yellow and orange flames. The city had been reduced to a smoldering pile of ash and billowing black smoke in a matter of days, all because of a little friction between the Empire and the Vatican. The people of the world had suffered the consequence of a little diplomatic misunderstanding, and oh, how glorious it was!
"Indeed, My Lord," replied a silky voice, belonging to the man behind me, who was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His hair rippled slightly in the breeze as well, hanging past his waist and comprised of gleaming, midnight strands that caught the light of the flames below. He stepped up beside me with two elegant strides, watching in interest as I sighed in a very contented manner.
"It's beautiful... I could never have asked for a more perfect evening," I breathed deeply through my nose, the smell of burnt flesh, stone, and wood intoxicating me to no end. It was like ingesting copious amounts of raw human death.
"Now that you have accomplished your goal... What do you plan on doing next?" but I was deaf to his words. I stared off into the flaming scene below me, lost deep in my memories...