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He did not remember the last time he had seen his own reflection. But he knew he looked different now.
Human.
Some of the bruises were changing colors. He had cuts on his face. It was still handsome but no longer the most glorious. He was still much taller than an average man. He took out his knife and first sheared his hair.
Then he began hacking at the wings.
And experienced pain for the first time in his life. It spread through his entire being-coursed through his veins like a jolt of light. Blood oozed where he had tried to cut the them out.
With every touch of knife to skin he was becoming more human than before. Experiencing more pain than before.
Pain.
He could almost fathom why the humans did some of the things they did. To avoid pain.
He continued slicing away at the wings. Sometimes he would double over , sometimes pause to catch his breath. But he continued.
Continued hacking off the wings till they lay at his feet. The flesh and blood stained the impeccable white tiles of the washroom.
He then lit up the lighter lying in a corner and began cauterizing his wound.
He was now free.
