Clouds [ON HOLD]

|2|•Castiel•

This is a bit messed up btw, I kinda threw away any concept of grace in season 4-12 and improvised. I kinda like it tho.

Also, some dark nothings in here. I had to practice torture for 2 months and get creative, so read at your own risk.

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He had to give the humans some credit, they weren't that far off.

I'm the many, many, many depictions of Hell hed seen over the years, he had to admit they were actually pretty accurate. The only thing he could actually say they'd gotten wrong, in fact, was the noises.

It was quiet down there. But then again, that might just be his cell. That's if it could really be called that. In reality, it was just a tight black box. It was dark, so dark he couldnt see anything but himself.

That was the complicated part. When he exploded, his angel grace and soul were supposed to go to wherever Angel's went when they died, but they hadn't. Hed been trapped.

He could still remember the feeling of being dragged under. In his true form, his wings had caught and tangled with the net. His trench coat remained, but all other clothes were gone and changed into divine attire.

He remembered being pressed against the gates as they forcefully dragged him down into the pit. His skin had glowed and tingled, and a few demons nearby had disintegrated. But the one next to him had seemed unaffected, despite his continuous shrieks and screams.

He'd clawed at the metal angel-proof net until the wires cut into his arms and he bled bright blue grace. But it didnt affect him. In his true form, losing grace was almost impossible.

He hasnt given up struggling until they trapped him in his cell. He hadn't even given up then, letting out large waves of grace to push against the walls. He was sure that any poor demons walking by a 4-mile radius had exploded.

Then they'd realized he wasn't any normal angel. Being possessed by Lucifer and coming into contact with Chuck had messed with his soul, and he had handfuls and handfuls of power in him that wasnt his. He just couldn't release it in his vessel.

So they'd chained him to the wall. Grace-sucking cuffs and he could slowly feel himself weakening. But he didnt loose hope. The handcuffs might weaken him, but they didn't take any of his power. Gabriel had nearly died making sure of that.

Back to the present time, he banged his chains around the walls, screaming loudly. If he couldnt make them release him, he was sure gonna give his attackers one hell of a headache. It was something Dean had taught him and he was gonna stick to it.

Huffing, he leaned back against the wall. It was one thing to chain someone to a wall where they coudlnt move. It was another thing to chain them with their arms and legs spread out like a freaking prostitute. Hed tried yanking at his bonds, but all that had done was give him sore wrists and an even bigger headache.

Another problem. He had a headache. How, exactly? He couldnt tell you. Angel's couldnt get headaches, but maybe it was another one of the human attributes hed gained from being around the Winchesters so much?

He grit his teeth as the chains tightened around his wrists again, digging into his skin and pulling him further into the wall. King of Hell my ass he thought the only thing that bitch's really king of is uncomfortable positions.

He shifted again, shivering at the cold air. He couldnt really feel it, being in his true form and all, but that didnt stop him from shivering from time to time. He supposed it was a sort of habit. Even if it didnt really affect him, he could still feel his skin pressing against the cold wall and moved uncomfortably against it. The trench coat did some to help, but not much.