The King of Hell
THE KING OF HELL
Genre: Horror/Humour
Rating: T for some possibly disturbing imagery
Word Count: 200
Vague spoilers for 6.22 - 'The Man Who Knew Too Much'.
I bring you a 200-word excusion into the wit and wisdom of everyone's favourite arch-demon, scheming liar, double-crossing snake and all round smart-arse.
And he's a Brit too *fistpump*
a/n I've reverted to Brit-speak in honour of Crowley!
Crowley wiped his bloodstained hands, strolling away from the eviscerated cadaver on the gurney, smoothing his hair as he went.
Necromancy was such an under-appreciated art; whoever would have thought he could track down that pain-in-the-arse angel by studying some dead bloke's liver?
Most demons didn't understand it's elegant subtlety, the fine nuances of it's skilful application; but then he wasn't most demons.
That's why he was King of Hell and those other hell-spawn further down the chain were just mindless cretins who weren't fit to lick his last customer's entrails off his finely cut Italian shoes.
It was good to be the King.
xxxxx
Talking of mindless cretins; no doubt when the angel turned up, that pair of emotional trainwrecks, the Winchesters, wouldn't be far behind him.
Oh, that would be exquisite; when he finally got that sodding pair where he wanted them - in chains - he would study their livers.
Slowly;
Closely;
Imaginatively;
Heck, if he was careful enough, he could give the smug bastards the opportunity to study their own livers …
or each others.
That'd be 'offally' entertaining. Now that was the key to job satisfaction; being able to have a laugh.
Oh yes, it was good to be the king.
xxxxx
end
Genre: Horror/Humour
Rating: T for some possibly disturbing imagery
Word Count: 200
Vague spoilers for 6.22 - 'The Man Who Knew Too Much'.
I bring you a 200-word excusion into the wit and wisdom of everyone's favourite arch-demon, scheming liar, double-crossing snake and all round smart-arse.
And he's a Brit too *fistpump*
a/n I've reverted to Brit-speak in honour of Crowley!
Crowley wiped his bloodstained hands, strolling away from the eviscerated cadaver on the gurney, smoothing his hair as he went.
Necromancy was such an under-appreciated art; whoever would have thought he could track down that pain-in-the-arse angel by studying some dead bloke's liver?
Most demons didn't understand it's elegant subtlety, the fine nuances of it's skilful application; but then he wasn't most demons.
That's why he was King of Hell and those other hell-spawn further down the chain were just mindless cretins who weren't fit to lick his last customer's entrails off his finely cut Italian shoes.
It was good to be the King.
xxxxx
Talking of mindless cretins; no doubt when the angel turned up, that pair of emotional trainwrecks, the Winchesters, wouldn't be far behind him.
Oh, that would be exquisite; when he finally got that sodding pair where he wanted them - in chains - he would study their livers.
Slowly;
Closely;
Imaginatively;
Heck, if he was careful enough, he could give the smug bastards the opportunity to study their own livers …
or each others.
That'd be 'offally' entertaining. Now that was the key to job satisfaction; being able to have a laugh.
Oh yes, it was good to be the king.
xxxxx
end