Lawrence Kansas
Am I cruel? That's like saying a plague victim is careless for contracting the plague. Silly nonsense. I am never cruel. I was the one that inspired life. You may ask how it is possible that there was death before life? But I am much more ancient that even you can believe. I have lived in dark, in the heart of supernovas and everywhere else in between. But by far earth is the greatest planet that I have ever had the pleasure of smiting. So many pitiful creatures dying. I see them all. I have witnessed death in all of its forms. It is like my mind is spilt up into some sort of deathly kaleidoscope, a death in America, a death in Australia and everywhere in between. I am never at peace. You people are so inconsiderate when you say I am cruel. If I was not here culling you pathetic things you would not be able to take a single step without trodding on someone's little toe.
Anyway. You wonder why I am here? There is no need to panic, you still have a little while before I will eventually come for you. I am here to tell you of these two boys I once knew. How they grew to be men, and when it was time, welcomed me home with a cheeky smile and an offering of the fatty and heart-disease-causing type.
This is the Winchester gospel from my perspective, written by yours truly and signed 'loves, from death'
…
Many years ago I floated through the breeze, a spectre you could almost say, watching yet committing no deeds, the night was quiet with death. I have not had a true form for what feels like centuries so I am used to floating about unobserved, not even my own reapers can lay their unseeing eyes upon me. I drift lazily through a nice homey neighbourhood, not expecting to find anything to send to heaven. Suddenly my eyes catch a shadow creeping into the house of a small family, a happy family. I walk up beside this thing and lay my palm against the back of his head. He does not feel the touch but I feel the anticipation in his heart. I try not to let any emotion cross my lined features, I have seen much worse than what this demon is creeping through the night to commit. I know what this truly evil thing will do to this family who has tried ever so hard to seek peace, and I want to watch. Pop me some pop-corn.
I float, there is no other way to describe my otherworldly movements, behind him, following his every movement.
He creeps down the hall and a man in a plain black suit stands in the hallway, a reaper, poised and ready for the atrocities that are yet to come. If I was nothing more than a ghost, not a ghost from one once living but an echo of when I had last walked the earth, I would have lifted a finger against this crazed man. No, this is no man. This demon.
He enters the small nursery and I cannot help but wonder how much the earths path would change if this one event was not to happen. The thing with yellow eye leans over the crib of the young infant, their eyes connecting in a look of understanding. The 6 month year old baby squirms in his small prison, his eyes clear as glass, not tired, he wants to be awake for this. He makes a childish noise in response to the strange man leaning over his sleeping bed and I see the sound monitor perched on the edge of the dresser buzz red. Someone would be coming to check up on the small child, that is why the reaper is here. The man reaches his strong fingers into his breast pocket, retrieving a small slender knife that glints in the faint night light. I watch as the demon Azazal draws the small knife across his wrist, dripping his blood into the infant's mouth, the child grabbing onto the demons arm, as if to take in more of the deadly poison.
Death I can stand, I can tolerate, it is all I am, but this abomination, this scarring of such an innocent soul is worse than death. Worse than me. In my disgust I escape through a window.
Seconds later the house erupts into flames.
