two. the scapegoat. [voice post]
[Everytime Azazel closes his eyes, he's back in the pit. The desert sand is choking him. The jagged rocks are ripping through his skin. He hasn't slept because he doesn't want the nightmares, but the nightmares are blurring into day, becoming visions. His voice is cracked, the sound of sandpaper on gravel.]
There's sand. Sand all over my goddamn sheets and I just bought these sheets.
Where are you, you fucking Archangel? I know you're here. I'll find you. Break your bloody wings off. [Azazel laughs hoarsely before his voice becomes small]
You can't put me back there.
He can't.
I'm not- [His voice breaks and a choking cough fills the void before the audio cuts off.]
There's sand. Sand all over my goddamn sheets and I just bought these sheets.
Where are you, you fucking Archangel? I know you're here. I'll find you. Break your bloody wings off. [Azazel laughs hoarsely before his voice becomes small]
You can't put me back there.
He can't.
I'm not- [His voice breaks and a choking cough fills the void before the audio cuts off.]