'Til We Meet Again - Crowley x Reader

Chapter 32

Thursday, Two Days to the End of the World

The journey to Tadfield was a tense one, with the Bentley's engine purring beneath them as they raced through the English countryside. Aziraphale and Crowley sat up front, their heads close together in deep discussion. The mix-up that had occurred eleven years ago gnawed at them, a blemish in the otherwise meticulous planning.

"I believe," Aziraphale muttered, his brow furrowed. "It just goes to show that evil contains the seed of its own destruction. No matter how well-planned, how foolproof an evil plan, no matter how apparently successful it may seem along the way... In the end, it will always flounder on the rocks of inequity and vanish."

Crowley, gripping the steering wheel with a firm hand, turned to him with a frustrated look on his face. "For my money, it was just an ordinary cockup."

In the backseat, Y/N sat quietly, her mind racing with worry. Her secret weighed heavily on her conscience, the knowledge that she had kept the true identity of the Antichrist hidden from them threatening to consume her. She cast a sideways glance at the two angels in the front, praying that their search wouldn't lead them to the revelation that she had been withholding.

As they pulled up to the Tadfield Manor, the former site of the satanic nuns' makeshift birthing hospital, now transformed into a paintball field, a sense of irony hung in the air. The setting was oddly unfitting for the grave matter they were there to investigate.

Crowley parked the Bentley, and the trio got out, their steps resolute as they headed towards the manor. However, fate had other plans in store for them. Just as they reached the entrance, a sudden burst of red paint splattered across Y/N's chest, staining her clothes and shocking her to the core.

Crowley's heart clenched in terror, and a wave of flashbacks from Hell washed over him. In those infernal halls, he had witnessed Y/N's death countless times, each one more painful than the last. The sight of her covered in paint had triggered a memory he had desperately tried to forget.

Aziraphale and Crowley themselves were not spared, as coloured paintballs struck them, marking their clothes and threatening to rekindle painful memories. It was as if Hell itself had sent these paintballs to torment them.

Crowley wasted no time; he snapped his fingers as he performed a small miracle, causing the paint to vanish from their clothes as though it had never been there. The trio stood there, paint-free but bewildered, shaken by the unusual turn of events.

With an air of cautious determination, they stepped into the Tadfield Manor, aware that they were about to confront a mystery that could change everything they knew about the Antichrist and the impending Armageddon.

Inside the Tadfield Manor, the trio cautiously explored the building, their eyes scanning for any potential clues or leads that could shed light on the mysterious mix-up involving the Antichrist.

As they wandered through the corridors, Crowley couldn't resist a mischievous impulse. He surreptitiously transformed the paintball guns he found into real weapons with a sly grin on his face. His devilish sense of humour threatened to make the game far more dangerous than intended.

Y/N and Aziraphale were quick to chastise him, their voices laced with concern. "Crowley, you can't do that! You're making the game dangerous!" Azirapahle scolded.

Crowley, however, couldn't help but disagree. He viewed the sudden twist as an opportunity for all of them to engage in some miraculous escapes. "Come on, it's more exciting this way, don't you think? Besides, they're all having miraculous escapes." he retorted with a playful glint in his eye.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle, her expression softening as she looked at the demon. "Deep down, Crowley, you're actually quite nice."

Those words seemed to strike a nerve with Crowley. He suddenly grabbed Y/N by the collar of her shirt, pinning her against the wall with a low growl. His eyes bore into hers as he warned, "I'm not nice. I'm a demon."

Despite the assertive warning, Y/N couldn't help herself. She continued to smirk, her gaze drifting to Crowley's lips, her teeth lightly grazing her lower lip in a teasing manner. Her eyes locked onto his with a suggestive air.

Crowley's annoyance grew, "Stop looking at me like that. I'm threatening you." he growled. But Y/N, her smirk widening, goaded him further. "Make me." she said mischievously. It was a dangerous game of desire and defiance that had enveloped them.

However, their moment of heated tension was rudely interrupted by Aziraphale, who cleared his throat rather pointedly, reminding them of his presence.

Crowley's attention shifted down the hallway, where a woman had mysteriously appeared. As she approached, she inquired if she could be of any assistance.

Crowley released Y/N, his gaze never leaving the newcomer. Recognition sparked in her eyes as she addressed them, "Saints and Demons preserve us, it's Master Crowley."

In a swift and calculated move, Crowley snapped his fingers, freezing the woman in place. It was an action that further revealed his true nature to his companions. Aziraphale and Crowley began to interrogate the woman, trying to glean information that might shed light on the missing records.

Unfortunately, the woman's news wasn't promising. She explained that the nunnery had burnt down, and with it, all the records had been destroyed in the fire. The trio left the frozen woman behind, returning to the Bentley with a mixture of frustration and disappointment.

As they piled into the car, they were left with more questions than answers. The Antichrist's true identity remained elusive, and the dark clouds of uncertainty continued to gather on the horizon, signalling the impending storm of Armageddon.