Good Omens one-shots :)

The Hauntings of the Past

Pushed off the sky of eternity, of the beginning of life, and left to do nothing but fall. There's nothing you can do but fall. 

You fall far...

The pressure of the wind compresses against you, it's heavy ...

Gravity pulls you down, hard.

Until you reach the end.

This discribes the tragic experience known as Crowley's fall. Once known as the great Archangel Raphael, the curious creator of the stars. That day, he learned that curiosity was a dangerous thing, as one too many questions could result in fatal outcomes.

His plumate from heaven to hell finally ended. He had landed harshly into a pool of dark, burning, sulfur. It heavily clung and burned into his skin, he released cries and screams of pain. It was heavy, it clung to his body, and refused to let go. He struggled to escape it, faltering many times before finally reaching safer, solid, ground. He panted as he struggled to pull his entire self out of the pool. His wings were big and heavy, dragging behind him, they had been dyed black from the substance. 

Guilt and panicked confusion washed over him. His thoughts flooded intensely, overwhelming him with the ideas of his actions that put him in his current, suffering, state. 

Too many questions. 

God, what have I done?

Earth: London, England- Aziraphale's bookshop

Present time

Shit!

Crowley sat up in a cold sweat in his bed. His breathing was heavy, and tears filled his eyes. He grabbed his hair and tugged at it slightly, reassuring and trying to snap himself back into reality. 

For a while now, he had stopped working and tending to Hell's needs. After Armageddon, Hell had left him alone, as well as Heaven left Aziraphale alone. However, Hell had cut off and basically evicted him from his flat. Left with nothing but his car and plants, Aziraphale kindly offered to let him live in the bookshop. There was a spare, unused guestroom available, so Crowley gladly accepted. He had been living there for about a month now.