~ In Case Forever Ends Tomorrow ~ A Good Omens Fanfic

2 - Fallen Angel

He made his way over to the look and snapped his fingers, the lock disappearing almost immediately. He shoved the door open, slipped inside and down the very dark stairs. He could barely even see his feet, which was a problem.

A big problem, actually.

He'd never come down to Hell unless it was absolutely necessary. He'd never once made an appearance without being summoned. They were always expecting him, so the lights were always on. Now, it was dark.

Crowley also wasn't amazing at walking. He had a certain swagger to his steps, the way his hips fell into place was slightly off as a result of being a snake. In addition to that, snakes had super crappy vision and Crowley could not see beyond his own nose. He tried to grip the walls, as the staircase to Hell had no railing, but slipped and tumbled down a few steps, crying out in pain and shouting a few curses along with it.

"Blasted FEET." He growled, scrambling to catch himself before standing up. His legs wobbled slightly, but he ignored that.

It was time to make an ENTRANCE.

Crowley threw open the doors to Hell and grinned.

"Guess what BASTARDS?! I'M BACK!"

A few screams followed that statement, along with some swearing and unnecessary hissing.

"Back so soon?" A low voice crooned, and Crowley's smile widened.

"Princess!" He exclaimed, opening his arms, then dropping them at his sides. "What a pleasure!"

Two things - Beelzebub was not a pleasure at all. They were a sassy demon who had too much time on their hands. Crowley hated them with all his being, and hoped one day he could have the pleasure of hitting them with a water balloon full of holy water.

And second, Hell was not at all how you would imagine. It greatly resembles one of the humans' offices, with hallways and desks and things like that. Crowley's desk had not been cleaned in fifty years, and he liked it that way. He was never around anyway. Hell's job was basically just a whole bunch of... paperwork. Crowley hated paperwork. He hated work too. And people.

Okay, Crowley hated most things.

Coming in at number one was the archangel Gabriel, followed by Hastur, a fellow coworker and soon to be Duke of Hell, then Beelzebub.

Down in Hell, everyone had a ranking. Hell used to love Crowley. He used to be one of the favourites. Now he was branded a traitor... That was a long story. A few days ago, the antichrist, Crowley and Aziraphale had stopped the coming of Armageddon together. Heaven and Hell had figured out that Crowley and Aziraphale were best friends (That's what Crowley thought they were, anyway) and both sides had sentenced Aziraphale and Crowley to their deaths. Crowley by holy water, Aziraphale by hellfire. Using some clever, demonic little tricks, Aizraphale and Crowley had switched bodies, and attended each other's executions. They had fooled both Heaven and Hell for now... But Crowley was done playing with fire. They were bound to find out soon enough. Some of the demons in Hell still believed Crowley was actually immune to holy water. He was not. Beelzebub, whether they believed it or not, was not even remotely scared of him and his stylish attitude.

"Do not call me Princess." Beelzebub said grimly. They had short, choppy black hair that was always frizzy. On their head there was a furry fly, an accessory she wore like a crown. They had a black jacket over their striped black and white shirt. Their eyes were a pale blue, and they had small flies that buzzed all around them. They wore bright red converse and black pants, along with a red sash across their chest.

And they was nearly three heads shorter than Crowley.

He bent down to reach their height, bowing in the process. He dramatically waved his hand in a dismissing, rude, inqurtois way.