Skyfall

E/O Drabble Challenge, word: slab

Summary: Name: Crowley - former scottish tailor, King of the Cross Roads, Emperor of Hell. Status: unknown - even to himself. Future: questionable. Would that keep him from fighting with all he's got? Hell no! Multichapter drabble.

Warning: Spoilers to the end of season 8.

A/N: Hi Meredith – that was a tough cookie, but after my vacation I was more than motivated. So: 200 words on the dot :-) Hope you all had a good start into this hesitant summer.


They lifted the corpse onto the morgue slab and returned to the living, cause in the light of a rather apocalyptic night another dead junkie was the last thing on earth they cared about. The town was filled with stunned people who seemed to have been washed down from the sky in that crazy thunderstorm. All the corridors and rooms of the small hospital were crammed with bruised and broken strangers, picked up from streets, porches, junkyards, even roofs, pain and confusion in their bright eyes. But the creepiest thing was their utter silence, wrapped around them like a cocoon.

In the darkness, the man in the morgue groaned, fingers twitching, his mind fighting the strangest emotions. Desolation, despair, regret. And fear. He shuddered when memories came flooding back. Of a deserted crucifix above a broken altar slab. Of sneering and taunting and aching and pleading. Goddammit, the bloody bastard had had him by the balls. And not one of his bootlicking minions had turned up to safe him. Hot rage filled him, pumping determination back into his system. 'Arise and walk'. He chuckled. He'd start with a little housecleaning to shape himself up for a meet-and-greet with the Winchesters.