The Savior of Our End

         Stella had in no way enjoyed killing the shopkeeper. Now she'd have to spend hours scrubbing the blood out of her delicate nail beds, and even more wasted time in making sure the man's family would not suspect anything more ominous than the man running away with a bombshell. She reflected her annoyance by harshly slamming the feeble man's head into the black soil. Now with her hands freed, she examined her nails and was pleased to see none had snapped out while she'd had them seeped into the elder's soft, loose neck. But, as she feared, they were embedded with soil and gore, the gorgeous mint blue just barely peeking out from under the mess.
         "The things I do for you." Her eyes inhaled the beautiful sight of God before her, towering over both forms of mortality of the breathing woman and the dead man. In the presence of His Majesty she could not muster any feelings of guilt and even the rough edges of annoyance washed away from her voice. "I hope you enjoy your bath, my Lord." The figure did not reply, hollowed sockets staring down at her approvingly as fresh blood seeped from His neck on to His wooden chest. The bone surrounding the eyes protruded from His face, almost as sharp as the horns spirling from his scalp. She had an urge to run her fingers along the deity's stunning design of a face, but she would never dare to lay her filthy skin onto the empyrean majesty. She'd risk tainting His faultless visage with her disgusting, hairless hands. Instead, she stood with her hands tucked behind her back until all of the blood from the man had drained and leached into the dirt.
         It took a few hours, as He enjoyed revelling in the bath. Slowly, the corpse turned an ashen grey until it was nothing more than a flattened sack of rotting skin, frail bones, and worn out meat. Knowing she was to take her leave, she bowed, giving her Lord a prayer before dragging her exhausted legs up the creaking stairs. Now she contemplated her next move. He would slowly devour the rest of the dead man over the next few weeks, leaving nothing but bone. Stella would have to find another fittable meal for her Lord, preferably someone that would not draw suspicion; her last few had been a bit more bold than she normally went for and-- judging on the worried chatter and fearful glances at night-- people were beginning to catch on.
         She would look more into it later, but right now she wanted nothing more than sitting in a hot bath with music and wine.