Anthony J. Crowley

Provoking Crowley

I've wondered all what Crowley was capable of, and if someone really did get their hands on Aziraphale, what would he do?

Hastur, Ligur, and Eric don't think Crowley is a serious or very effective demon. They make jokes behind his back, about how he has been tamed by an angel and that the angel may as well keep a tether around his neck. This causes all to laugh and slap their legs, until Hastur, with his black beady eyes changes his mood to dark and mutters, "Shut up, you idiots!" from deep down in the back of his throat. The others instantly go silent, until only the usual sounds of Hell can be heard.

"I say we kidnap that angel and see just how tough Crawly really is." Haster grins menacingly. He is the only demon there with half a brain who is able to form a plan. The others just follow along like the dark henchmen they are.

"The angel has powers, what if he uses them on us?" Eric pipes up. It is a legitimate question.

"We put a sack over his head, and shackle his wrists. He won't know where he is going and can't do miracles as easily." A beetle walked across Hastur's cheek and he used his tongue to retrieve it, then crunched it up in his mouth.

"He's always at that bookshop, and we can't go in though." Ligur pointed out. Hastur rolled his eyes.

"Do you think I am stupid like you, and have not thought these things out?" Hastur spat. "Honestly, stupid demons should have their own hell and keep out of mine." Ligur narrowed his eyes and brought his lips firmly together. He did not like being called names, and in fact, was trying to be helpful. He remained silent.

"You idiots, he does leave the shop, mostly with Crowley but not always. We just have to watch. Can you do that, or do I have to do everything?" Hastur was getting nastier by the minute.

Crowley just happened to be in Hell that day, and could not wait to get back on earth. All the other demons, the smell, and clutter were about to drive him mad. It certainly was a place that lived up to it's name.

Aziraphale had a few things to post, and he gathered them up to take them down to the post box on the corner. Walking outside, he was no longer protected by the walls of the bookshop, and as evil eyes watched, Hastur got out the sack and Ligur the rope. Moving silently, they got behind Aziraphale, and before he could have dropped his letters off, the three demons executed their plan with a minimum of problems. miracling his voice silent, and the fact that it was three against one, they took the angel down the street to an empty warded building and undid his restrains. The whole idea was to lure Crowley after all, to see what he was made of.

After getting the Bentley's license renewed, he left Hell and telephoned Aziraphale, asking if he wanted him to pick anything up. The phone rang and rang, but the angel didn't pick up.

"Must be in the back." Crowley thought. Dirty Angel thoughts followed, and he smiled to himself. Once at the bookshop, Crowley went in and checked all the rooms, but it was empty. Never in the history of the book shop had Aziraphale just up and left without telling him.

Then, the phone rang. Crowley picked up the receiver and listened without speaking.

"This is Crowley, I presume?" Hastur inquired.

"Yes." Crowley responded, gritting his teeth.

"Your friends Hastur, Ligur, and Eric have your precious angel and if you wish to retrieve him, there is a warehouse down the street. Address 509 West. Come alone." Hastur hung his mobile up and put it in his pocket.

Crowley looked at the receiver and began to crush it, before putting it back. Static electricity filled the air, and a darkness beyond anything human eyes, and in this case demon, had ever seen. Baring his teeth, and making fists with his hands, Crowley walked down the street and stood across from the corrugated iron warehouse, and reached to grab sheet off it and pull them off. Tossing them from the side, the electricity was charging in his body, and he eventually touched the locked doorhandle, and gave it a dose of electricity. It melted and fell to the ground, and Crowley pushed his way in.

Dark storm clouds swirl about and an occasional strike of lightning hit the ground with a large "crack!"

"W-H-E-R-E I-S M-Y A-N-G-E-L?" Crowley enunciated, his yellow eyes glowing and filing the whole of his eyes. Outside, it was storming and the whole building shook.

"It would be easier for me to stop time, but I like the feeling of you all being afraid. AND i CAN FEEL IT!. I don't know why you did this, but know I carry Holy water and am not afraid to use it. My angel is my supplier and I never run out! I can tell you this, come near him again and I will erase you off of this earth, universe, everything. UTTER OBLIVION. Do I make myself clear?

They all nodded, clinging to each other, not having a clue Crowley was this powerful.

"Crowley, over here…." Aziraphale moaned. He had been left with the bag on his head. Crowley tore it off and got down on one knee.

"Are you all right, angel?" Crowley asked, tears in his eyes.

"I was just posting some letters, and…."

Crowley whispered, "'S all right, we'll go back home. This lot won't bother us again, I'm sure." Crowley turned his head, eyes glowing and teeth bared at them. They did not see him so weak anymore.

Crowley got up and reached to help Aziraphale up as well. He dusted himself off, and arm in arm they walked past the trio and into fresh daylight. Once Crowley has his angel, the storm scattered.

"Say, you want me to miracle us a picnic for the park, love?" Crowley offered.