He stared into the window at the two men together; one of them was human and should never be harmed. The other was a Fallen Angel that was unaware of his powers and had to be dealt with.
He sighed. He hated killing people. To him, Angels were still people.
The Angel stirred in his sleep and turned over to face the window. He immediately recognized the face.
"Andy...?" He whispered, in shock.
He had known Andy, back before he died. Long before he became an Angel.
Tears came to his vision as he realized what he had to do.
He had to kill one of his best friends. One of his only friends.
He slumped down against the wall of the outside of the house. He knew that Satan himself had sent him to kill the Fallen Angel, but he couldn't do it.
He was too kind, too shy to harm another soul, but held great power.
If you don't kill him, I'm throwing you in Hell. Satan's voice echoed through his head. Why couldn't he have sent someone else to do this?
He looked through the window again, this time in tears.