There are fallen angels all around your city. They don't do much, but they're always there. They're probably the most common cryptid in the city by far, they're almost a mascot for your city now. Your city used to be protected by actual normal angels, but history happened, now they're all fallen, their relationship with humanity forgotten, the ancient alliance lost. You don't think there was a betrayal, humanity just didn't need them anymore, they moved on, and now the fallen are just one of countless cryptids who landed here from another dimension.
Some look almost like humans, pretty humans, pretty humans wearing tattered and dirty clothing, but with wrong things about them, too many eyes, too many fingers, or just something off about them. Others look like their old angel selves more, but with time catching up to them, armor rusted, feathers unclean, the golden light turned cold and pale. Others look distorted, ghostly, like glitches in reality, sometimes monstrous and demonic in eldritch and terrifying ways. They say those were the most radiant before they fell.
Everyone kind of just knows to ignore them. Sometimes you'll see one, in an abandoned store, just on the street, in a subway station or an alleyway. But you know not to stop and stare like you would for other cryptids. They're common, and perhaps dangerous, at least unclean. And beyond that sad and unpleasant, and this twenty-first century world does not want to look at sad or unpleasant things. All the anger and little joy in the world is in a single cellphone, why bother taking a moment to pay respect.
There was that one time that one flew at you, with big, bloodstained wings, and a sword in its hands. It terrified you. But it was nothing, it didn't hurt you, you were just afraid. They set up traps for them, and places to make sure they don't rest. Little demonic sigils on pieces of architecture to make sure they don't perch there. Or pedants on shops so that they can never go in. Even a security camera, and a monster hunter's number, in case they're seen in the wrong place. They scare you sometimes, and to some creatures scaring a human is a crime that could cost them their lives. It's just how it is.
You gave some food to one, just some meat. She was small, would have looked like a pretty human girl wearing nothing but an old black coat she found, would have looked human if it wasn't for her featherless wings twitching in the rain. You let her come close to you. She didn't want to be touched. But you sung to her, and she liked your song. She told you that she used to sing before she was fallen, used to have shinning golden wings, and sing in the finest of restaurants. You let her sing back to you for a bit. You didn't ask her name. It would be weird to. But you hoped she was ok. Hoped she didn't pay the price of someone's fear.
You didn't see her again. But you think about her sometimes. It's silly to wonder if such a creature is ok. It's just a cryptid, the lowest and most forgettable of cryptids. It wouldn't affect you if anything happened, but you'd weep just to think of the possibility.
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