Good omens 2.5

Nose to the brimstone

Hell is the complete opposite of heaven. Where heaven is minimalist, bright, and squeaky clean, hell is damp, dim, and disgusting. Within minutes of being there Crowley stepped in some unknown goo, completely wrecking his snakeskin boot.

He leans on a small, cluttered desk outside Shax's office using a pencil to scrap the gunk off. A petite demon takes a seat at the desk and scoffs at him, "do you have an appointment?" She's wearing a gaudy pant suit straight from the 70's with huge lapels, shoulders pads, and flared pants.

"No, don't reckon I do," Crowley stands up. His shoe makes a squishing sound when he steps on it.

The small-framed demon purses her lips, "well Duke Shax is very busy. She won't see you without an appointment." Crowley looks around, it doesn't look busy at all, which is saying something for hell.

He knows he's offended her and she's abusing the very little power she has. Good thing Crowley is very talented at knowing who will be persuade by what. "Sorry, uh- what's your name?" He smiles.

Her entire demeanor changes with just a devilish smile. "Naamah. I- It's Naamah," she blushes.

Crowley leans on the desk again, "Naamah, nice to meet you. My names Crowley. Look, Naamah, I'm sorry. I just got back from earth and I didn't think to make an appointment." He lowers his glasses to look at her, "is there anything you might be able to do for me? It's very important that a see Shax."

Naamah only nods in response before picking up the phone, "um- um- there's a Crowley out here to see you?"

The office door whips open not even 10 seconds later. Shax is standing there in a polished-leather suit. She has a hat with a whole stock dove on it. "Well, well, well if it isn't the prodigal son," she teases, "come in we have things to discuss." She slams the door behind him.

Shax's office eerily resembles his old apartment. The desk is a grey concrete block. The chairs are red, with hers resembling a throne. There's a grey feather chandelier hanging from the ceiling. One wouldn't call it nice, but by hell's standards it's clean and well put-together. Crowley doesn't wait to be told before grabbing a chair, whipping it around and sitting in it backwards.

Shax speaks first, "alright, as we discussed over the phone, you'll work for hell on an everyday basis but also report to me with angelic information."

Crowley frowns, "aaaand?"

Shax rolls her eyes, "and in return hell will leave your boyfriend alone." Crowley's lip twitches angrily at the word "boyfriend."

"And my job?"

"You'll be supervising a whole department!"

"Alright where will I be going?"

"Report to demon resources."

Before he leaves Shax stops him. "Crowley. Loose the glasses," she smirks, "just trust me."

*

Turns out demon resources is the department Crowley is now heading. He has about 30 demons working under him. There's 4 main divisions. The largest is disciplinary behavior, which Crowley knows too well. Next is the financial department. On the first interaction with them Crowley just asked about his flat bills. The point's moot now, anyways. Then is recruiting/retention. Since there have never been any new demons since the fall, retention is the main point. Lastly, with a singular demon is the benefits office. Demons, of course don't receive benefits.

Crowley seemed to settle in by his 3rd day. He hides out in his office for an hour or so until one of his subordinates come needing something. Then lunch and repeat. A few times he's been able to fake a very important phone call. 

The first day a wiry demon with scaled skin from retention bugged him about some paperwork. Apparently the D.R. supervisor had to sign off on any discorporations. He raved on for Satan knows how long.

"I mean how irresponsible must you be to loose a body! One fellow, Icup, or the like, actually got himself destroyed this past week! I mean whole purpose of demons, for the time being is to go up against heaven, innit? They've already got 2 angels for every 1 demon!" Crowley simply gave him a word of agreement every few sentences.

At lunch Crowley sits with a few of the demons from financing. It isn't that he likes them, he actually finds them a bit annoying, but they are huge gossips. Crowley is here to keep an eye out, or ear. They never stop. While walking through the cafe line, while eating, while walking back to the office. Talking the whole time about who said what to who. No wonder God decided that gossip and slander are sins.

Crowley does spend long periods uninterrupted in his office. Unlike the rest of his department he has an actual office, not just a cubicle. It's tiny, though, only around 6 by 5 feet. Who ever had this office before must've been miserable. The desk is crammed almost to the back wall. There's multiple piles of paperwork literally feet tall on the desk. The walls have mold and other substances on them. On the back of door, directly across from the desk is a poster that reads, "You are the Damned." It has a thumbs down on it. The whole closet-sized room is lit by one small fluorescent light that's brightness is constantly changing.

In these long periods Crowley stews. He sits at his desk, staring at the poster thinking about how miserable he is. He never, ever wanted to come back to hell. He runs his hand through his hair and tilts his head back, against the wall. I guess this is it. I am damned, aren't I? Is this really what all the other demons have been doing for millennia? I've been on earth since it started, guess I wouldn't know how bad hell is if I hadn't seen anything else. There's only darkness because there's light.

Crowley remembers his motivation for being here. It's a double edged sword. He'll have to stay in hell but at least Aziraphale will be safe. Leaving means risking Aziraphale's life. He can live with that but it upsets his stomach to think of. How bad could it be? It's only for... eternity. He lifts his head and slams it back against the wall. 

He figures he'll just have to learn to cope. At least he'll be able to go topside occasionally since Shax wants info about the angels weekly. He'll probably just go spend a few hours driving or drinking then make up some bullshit. Or maybe actually go see Muriel but the thought of going to the bookshop makes him feel queasy.

***
Hey, guys! Yeah this one wasn't to exciting but stick with me. We're going to get there soon. Thank you for reading.