Earth, 1950
"Please, my lord. Heal the ol' mighty." The injured man crawled on his weak knees, begging the tall, glowing figure.
"My father has recognized you as one of his own. I can save you, but not your sinning son. He has abused the right to have valuable medicine in his presence." Crack head. I note, as the man in white continues. "He has seemed to acquire the desire for the same-sex." Gay.
"But my son is so young. Can't our God forgive the sinned? Please!" The old man tugged on the sleeves of the godlike being.
"Yes, but it's too late for your son. I'm sorry." He said without sympathy. Did he really care?
"My ribs are cracked, but my sons are shattered. I have bruises, but my son has internal bleeding. But I do believe our heavenly father takes lives for the greater good."
"That's true my brother. Don't forget." The white-clothed man placed two fingers on the old man's temple. The dried blood stains on his winkled cheeks, disappeared. The bruises that covered his arms, the cuts, the twisted ankle, all healed. The coats of blood that layered over his leather skin, vanished. "Thank you, my savior."
Once the old man was alone, I stood in awe. I spotted an... Angel.
I hid behide a tall oak tree, as the man ran back to the site of the car wreckage on the side of the road. I opened my notebook to an empty page. I scribble down in pen,
Day 15: Angels have to Ability to Heal
Today, I spotted another damned celestial. He put his dirty fingers on a old man forehead... and the man was better than better. That twatt ran like he was ten again. Deduction is telling that Angels can do more than heal. They can make someone feel reborn. If only I could get my grimy little hands on a pint of that dick's---
I hear a loud swoosh. Causing me to jump onto my heals, dropping my belongings, and coming nose to nose with the soul bidding demon, the man with sass...
Crowley.
"Papa? What are you doing here? You usually come out at dark to make deals." I act as innocent as possible. It didn't foul him.
He stayed silent as he looked down upon me. He clenched his jaw and balled his fist. "Serenity, you, my child! should know better than to clown around in a presence of one of Gods minions!" He harshly grabbed my shoulders and slightly shook me; enough for him to get my attention.
My chestnut eyes widen to the size of large marbles, as I watching my father's eyes turn into fiery spheres that glowed in anger at the site of me. Flames illuminated off of the blood red eyes. He was now pissed.
I feared him like this. Which is a lot to say considering I was an abomination myself. "Papa! Stop! Y-y-you're scaring me, Papa!" I squeeze the sleeves of his black jacket, hanging my head low, eyes shut tight.
He stopping shaking me and pulled away, I was being freed of his grip. "Okay, I'll give you one chance. Why are you out here?" He asked fatherly. I cleared my throat as I lean down to pick up my notebook, with now tattered pages. My hand was shaking as I extended my arm towards him.
He had snatched it right out of my hand. I flinched at the sudden movement. "What the bloody hell is this?" He flipped through the pages quickly with his thumb. He stopped at a page and muttered something inaudible. He was reading my entries. He was staring in awe at the drawings and sketches I had made over the course of weeks. He slammed the book shut and shoved it into his inner coat pocket.
"You have no idea how disappointed I am in you right now." He growled. "Oh, I think I have an idea, Papa." I rudely shot back.
"Oh, no you don't!" He shouted, pulled my arm roughly again. "Kids learn their lessons one day. Unfortunately, your day... is today." He hissed.
With a blink of an eye, we were an a whole new place. The walls were pitch black. Torches hung on the wall, the only thing giving light. Besides the flames the burned in the distance. We won't on Earth anymore. It was Hell.
My father drug me towards an empty cage. "Papa no! I DIDN'T MEAN TO, I SWEAR!" I yelled, pleading for mercy. He didn't listen, picking me up, and throwing me inside the small cage. I hit the ground with a 'thump'. Before I had the strength to pick myself up, he slammed the cage shut, locking the door with a large, decorative, key. "Now, I hope you'll keep your little mouth shut. You will learn that a demon should never! I mean, never! Be even close to an Angel. You're a child! You don't run away from home like that! Understand?"
I snap, "I'm not a child anymore!" I grip the prison bars tightly, my knuckles turning a pale white. "And, I hate the way you treat me!" I spat on his face.
He picked up a white handkerchief out of his front chest pocket. Wiping away my saliva. "Just for that! You will spend your life in a create! All because you can't listen like a good girl." He slightly hummed. I watched as he walked down the hall, passing by all the other prisoners. I stood in silence, as he stopped in his tracks to face me.
"Oh, yeah, and stop acting like a human teenager. You know you're an awful... Well, really you're just like me." He was right.
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All I can say is.... this sucked.
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Control- Supernatural
FanfictionSerenity, the Princess of Hell, daughter of Crowley. She might seem sweet and innocent. You might think she probably just had seen too much. But that's just a façade. She might just be a fiery redhead or girl with bad blood. But remember, "never ju...
