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Azazel. (uh-zay-zuhl). noun.
the demon or place in the wilderness to which the scapegoat is released in an atonement ritual.
the prince of demons. the scapegoat itself.

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Evil is neither suffering,
nor sin; it is both at the
same time, something common
to both. For they are linked
together; sin makes us suffer

[/b]and suffering makes us evil,[/size]
and this indissoluble complex
of suffering and sin is the evil
in which we are submerged
against our will, and to our horror.[/font][/center]

↔.azazel.↔
↔.11 summers.↔
↔.stallion.↔
↔.gypsy cob.↔
↔.cremello.↔
↔.loner.↔

Ever had that feeling where there's something in you, controlling your every move, every thought, every process, and every decision? They say that that this kind of thing is normal every once in awhile, but what happens when it thrives in you, tearing away your mind in such a way that you can't think anymore? Ripping apart your needed organs one by one, so you can't breathe anymore? Playing with your lungs, your heart, your brain, until you simply cannot take it anymore.

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Silence. Serenity. All seemed peaceful, almost tranquil in a way. Despite the rotting carcasses covered in maggots and the stingy smell of blood reeking in the air, everything was almost normal. To this brute, this was life as it is. Death wasn't a fear, dying was too normal. Believing in the natural evolution and process on Earth was one thing, but Azazel took that to another level. This wasn't new, this was learned. This thought process, the actions that took place. All of it came from one disturbing theory.
If you do not appreciate life itself and all it's elements and beauty, you do not deserve to live.
You see, Azazel's thought process was none like any others. Yes, he was brave, and although he was not afraid of death itself, he has always been afraid of the afterlife. What exists? He knew that he was doomed for Hell, if it even existed. He twisted his words to get things he wanted. He used others to thrive. He sacrificed others for his own pleasure. Heaven or any happy ending was not an option. Though he knew this, he did not feel like he had to right any wrong's, undo any do's done. Why not continue on with this, if this was where he was headed anyways? The forceful screams of those underneath him gave him adrenaline, made his body twitch in such a way that it was disturbing. Disturbing even to himself. This didn't stop him. He knew that he could not would not change. There was no one to stop him, no one to take him away. It was either kill others for the thrill, or kill himself. This was the life that he had lived for 11 summers now. Why waste another day trying to achieve to be someone he's not, someone good? He does not open up, he does not give others the chance. He is a loner, and he surely intends on maintaining that status.

Accepted.