With those words, he raised the kitchen knife and brought it down full force into his open palm. Lily gasped, choking on her own spit. Blood splatted onto the floor with a repulsive noise. The blade emerged sickeningly from the back of his hand like a baby bird hatching from its egg. Azrael carried on, apparently unfazed.
“It doesn’t hurt me. It stings, but not much. And look—”
Slowly, he slid the knife back out. As he did so, the torn flesh quickly sealed the wound until it seemed like nothing happened at all. Lily realized her hand was over her mouth and put it down, reaching out to hold Azrael’s.
“It… you… healed yourself? How…?” she stuttered.
“It just happens on its own, there’s no more I can say,” the white haired boy replied. He raised the knife up to his chest.
“I can show you again if you would like to see.”
Lily quickly took it from his hand, placing it on the table. “No, no, I think I saw enough, thank you. How did you, uh, discover this?”
“Oh, I was bored," he grinned.
“You were… bored…?”
“I was bored,” he repeated, then said, “poking myself seemed to relieve that feeling.”
"O-kay..."
Lily sighed. Where is this boy even from? He was just wandering somewhere in the forest, no one in the town had even seen him before, and now this? It felt like every detail about him just raised more questions.
She gave him a look and said, "Hold on, how far did you take your uh, boredom?"
"Well, first I poked my finger. Then I sliced my—"
"Skip the details, please!"
"Okay then, well, at the end my head had reconnected itself."
Lily placed her head in her hands, then looked at Azrael in exasperation. He tilted his head.
"I apologize if that information upset you. As you can see, my neck is fully connected and functional, so there's no need to worry," he said, smiling in what he thought was an assuring way.
"So you can't die? From decapitation, at least?"
"That seems to be true."
"Alright, well, please don't do it again. Even if you're bored." She pondered for a moment then raised a finger. "And don't tell Fox."