Bobby sits on a stump looking between me, Crowley, and the 90 foot tall dragon. The Dragoness smiles, smoke curling from her mouth to show her happiness.
"Robert Singer. A pleasure to meet you. I believe I will enjoy greatly the stories you have for me."
"I...Sure. But...If you'll forgive me, why are ya helping Crowley?"
"You mean besides the fact that we have a deal? That he is my friend? That he interests me? That he will destroy the leviathans in such a way that I may watch their despair as they are beaten by something they thought far inferior to them? That once he becomes powerful enough we will have a glorious battle? Or even that we both agree humans must be kept alive and safe to some degree for either of our desires to be reachable? You mean besides all that, Robert Singer?" There is silence for a moment as I chew my lip, trying not to laugh.
"Uh. Yeah?" Dragoness rumbles in happiness at the insistent question.
"It is a secret." She turns to Crowley and leans her head down, her teeth shining. I wonder how a dragon keeps her teeth so nice, did she brush with trees? I shake away the thought as she speaks, not wanting to miss a word. "Now. King of Hell. I have a suggestion I urge you to consider today."
"My ears temporarily belong to you Dragoness."
"Hunt without me today. Find out what your new limits are. It will not do for you to lose me one day and find yourself in unknown waters. Besides, I wish to talk to this hunter alone for a day or so. Bring your toy with you, then when you return take your new love interest so I may read in peace for a while. He may be useful to you."
"I am not helping that debu souruītingu fuck!" I look at Bobby, surprised. That was Not something they did in the show. I knew he had been to Japan, I had no idea he was fluent, and I had no idea what he just said, but it did Not sound nice. Crowley apparently knows what it means though, and he disagrees with at least some of it by the look on his face.
The forest shakes with laughter.
"Hijō ni yoi Robāto! I knew it would be a pleasure to talk to you the moment I felt your soul. Go Crowley, take your toy with you and return in a day or so for your two souls." Bobby blinks.
"You're trusting the King of Hell, the guy who is eating souls like popcorn, with yours?"
"He cannot destroy healthy souls unburdened by change, contract, or debilitating solitude. Not yet. However, we shall soon find out if I can. So, before we find out if I shall burn you away, let us talk, Robert Singer. Let free your burdens to me so I may rejoice in your story." Bobby looks a tad overwhelmed at this. Trying to decide if he should push on the matter of souls and burning away, or talk to the behemoth in front of him. The dragon rumbles, and Bobby decides.
"Uhm, I was born at a very young age? Whadya want from me?"
"Let us start with your deepest problems and your highest accomplishments. I-" Crowley walks away and with a wave I am walking beside him. The pine needles of the forest seem to absorb the sound of the footsteps.
"Crowley, as much as I enjoy walking with my own two feet, there are things here that will fucking eat me."
"Do you have a problem with being bait?"
"Not if you give me a knife."
"It appears I forgot to bring one."
"Liar. You have two. You always have two."
"I forgot to bring You one."
"Liar. You-"
"Quiet. Someone is joining us." I hear nothing, but I'm human. Soon from the right is a growl. I stop walking but Crowley pulls me forward with a thought. I swallow and continue. The growling starts to echo around us.
"Crowley…"
"There are only five."
"Yeah….five What?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean y-" There is a crashing behind us and a tree falls over. At this we both turn to see what is happening. The growling still echoes everywhere but it is becoming apparent that it's just one thing...and it's big. Fucking big.
It's red brown scales don't glisten like Dragoness's. It's head is flatter and more bull shaped, although its nose and mouth look like that of a lion. It has a few spikes on its back and it looks armored there.
And it's big. Like fucking run big.
And I know what it is.
"Crowley. Run."
"I don't-"
"Crowley. It's a tarrasque. Run." I grab his arm, I don't care if he tortures me for eternity over this, you run from a tarrasque. Unless you're a level 20 Spellsword in D&D, you fucking run from a tarrasque.
So I fucking run. And dear merciful god, Crowley runs with me. However, he doesn't bamf us away, he runs. Which means he's considering something. Because he doesn't run run.
"And you are saying, you know what this is? And why I'm running from it?"
"You know how leviathans eat meat? Well tarrasque just eat everything. As in you want to prepare to fight a leviathan? Fight this. This will eat humans, cows, herds of cows, souls, rocks, houses, buildings, towns-" He snaps and my form shrinks into a ball and flies into the waiting smoke. I keep talking.
"-Cities. States. Crowley this thing isn't smart like a leviathan, it doesn't do portion control. This isn't something a witch made. If you think you're half ready to fight a leviathan, try it. Otherwise, fucking bounce!"
"Yes, but how do you kill it?" I'm too scared and full of energy to think like I normally do here so…
"Ya fucking don't!"
"Chew Toy."
"Fine fine… this one looks like a baby so-"
"That's a baby?"
"It has to be. Probably. Stories about it range from the size of a hippo to the size of a skyscraper. So either this is a baby, or people exaggerate. Both are possible. If it's a baby it's immunity to magic might not have kicked in."
"Pardon?"
"Look, D&D gets half its monsters from legends and they do in fucking depth research and THEN decide if they want to change things to make it more interesting. Some lore says there is only ever one of these because it is so big. It's sometimes called the century beast because it eats so fucking much in the MONTH it's awake that it sleeps for a hundred years! I am not a hunter! I do NOT have facts! You want facts, get Bobby! Although these things HAD to be fucking extinct since at least the dark ages, so maybe you need to talk to Dragoness!"
"How do I kill it?"
"Hit it, with magical weapons, probably under it, not on the back. Or… get eaten and kill it from inside."
"What? You expect me to-"
"If a bigger one shows up, Hell yes! What part of 'size of a skyscraper' do you not understand?"
Purgatory is fucking weird as all get out to me. Things are flesh and bone until either they 'die' and are eaten, or their body is destroyed. Then they bamf to some other spot to start again. Eternal war. If you wanted to get a soul, you had to kill the thing, destroy its body, and then grab whatever coalesces from the corpse. Or use some magic or power to make their soul appear after it died. Or eat the entire body. Quickly.
Not only could Crowley Not do that last one, it wasn't his style. And the tarrasque is fucking big.
And it is getting quite close. As in ground shaking cloud.
And I can't stress this enough; it's fucking BIG. I did not see all of it from below the tree line. We must have fucking Walked over it as it was sleeping. This entire time talking, it spent standing up.
So no. Not a baby. Not a fucking baby. Fucking run!
"Shut up Chew Toy!" Situation kinda warrants it! You are not PHYSICALLY big enough to kill that. At least I'm back to thinking how I normally think here, but that won't mean much if You don't BAMF the FUCK AWAY. You are NOT powerful enough to fight that.
Crowley does not respond. He snaps. There is a roar from behind us and the sound of a lot more breaking trees than a moment ago.
It had tripped.
"That was Meant to break its leg." A for effort! Try again in a YEAR or TEN.
He stops and turns to look at the thing. Memorizing it. Looking for weaknesses.
And then we are gone.
We step out near a stream and I fucking proceed to have a breakdown. A tarrasque. A fucking tarrasque. What was next? A catoblepas? A piasa? A manticore? A tengu? Oh dear god are Rocs a thing? Which ones are in the fae lands and which are here?
"All of them." How? "Ask the Dragoness. Not me." You still have an entire fucking day or two Crowley. "And I will be using that to fill my quota, not talk about inanities with my toys." Ow. I thought I was Chew Toy, not just a toy. I'm fucking hurt Crowley. "When did you start to get so...familiar." Yeah, my manner of speech probably got more relaxed during I dunno...the last 9 decades! You want erudite talks? Ask me when you aren't being chased by things that shouldn't be able to move under their own weight!
Pain wracks through me, like my toes are being cut off, but I don't have toes right now, so somehow it's even worse. The message is clear though, quiet small thoughts unless he asks. He dusts himself off and stands still. Listening. He turns left and begins to walk.
If you want to find something to fight here, you have to walk. Teleporting around got you nothing in a place with few landmarks, where attempts to build things always fail. There are no gathering places. You did not need to eat here, there is, usually, no hunger. So there are no watering holes. You do not need to sleep, so there are no hovels or caves.
"Yes, but some, like to eat in privacy…" That is true. So...have you found any caves? Crowley looks to the right. Above the tree line there is a mountain, snow topped and pointy.
We are gone, and we are there.
The trees are now on a slant, the floor beneath them at an angle while they still stand tall. It's an odd view, one I enjoy. Crowley however is rather focused. He is looking for a cave. It won't be here, not likely. He needs to be looking for rocky outcrops, cliff faces, or preferably a lake that has receded over time, moved away from the mountain. Following small creeks and rivulets would help.
"How, no why, do you know this?" I like rocks. Try over to your right, along the mountain. We were at a river a moment ago, if you can find where it comes from up here, there is more likely to be a cave.
…...
I was right. It took three hours, but I was right. The mouth is huge, which is good, I don't like…Didn't like while I was flesh and bone, tight spaces in the earth. Creeped me right the fuck out. Ever since that fucking comic. Don't read Japanese comics. Not while you're alive at least.
"Why? You find them more terrifying than me?" Fucking Hell yes, when I was alive that shit scared the crap out of me and I love horror. Now, I'm dead and with the King of Hell whose job it is to deal with spirits, who kills and Eats monsters, can teleport, and has a dragon for a friend, and oh...owns my soul! I'm fucking peachy. So no, not scared of much. That Tarrasque though...that would have Sucked. I have no clue if it eats souls and I Do not want to find out what that feels like.
"So I should leave you with a tarrasque to torture you is what I am hearing?" Sure….in 700 years when people finding out how the contract works doesn't matter. I think I have a bit of time. And that's if you don't kill them all, the tarrasques I mean. "True, I could leave one alive though, just for you." I am nowhere near important enough for that. That tarrasque...could have 3,000 plus souls sitting in its gut depending on what it eats. You're not gonna waste that on me.
"No, but I could send you down to find out." Sure, why the fuck not? How you gonna get me back? "You're mine. Your soul is where I want it to be." Yeah, barring other people's magic and powers sometimes. But, fine. Let's hope that works. Go get it after you have Dragoness with you again. It'll either work or you'll kill it and I'll be out. "I'll wait a month. Let you marinate." One, gross. Two, you're too busy. "True."
We reach the mouth, and there is growling and yellow eyes. Werewolves. A pack. A large pack.
"Let's get to work darling." At the words ten rush out at once, claws sharp and fur starting to sprout on their backs. Some had been here a long time, they were starting to get more animalistic. Those are the ones that rush up, attacking like wolves and surrounding their prey.
Crowley waves a hand and eight are flung against a cave wall, knocked out instantly. The remaining two attempt to slow down but with a twist of a hand their necks crack and they slide to a stop, and from the echoing of the sound to the right, the other 8 had been killed by that motion as well. He snaps and all the bodies seem to deflate, then explode. Whitish grey light is mixed in with the blood and bone that shoots outward. Crowley steps forward and flies out like a red storm with a purpose. He moves through each of the greyish miasmas of light as they try to coalesce and reform into the souls they once were, but he doesn't let them. They are swept along in fragments that are pulled apart by the storm, and they will be kept apart as long as he concentrates on it, just a bit.
A few of the remaining werewolves rush the smoke, attacking it instinctually, two however are running towards his body. Crowley bowls them over, knocking them down as he finishes his collecting. One falls against a rock and doesn't move again, another tumbles completely out of the cave. As soon as he is back in his body he snaps and both are dead.
The growling grows louder. Twelve more pairs of eyes are now glowing in the darkness. I'm wondering...Dragoness said to test his power...would he? He looks down at his hand, contemplating my thought and then looks back up at the pack. He snaps…
There are fifteen thuds as bodies hit the floor, and another eighteen squelching explosions as red bits rain down. Crowley steps back a bit, so his suit doesn't get covered in werewolf, and then once again flies out to collect his prize.
He flies around, me in tow, collecting souls like a child collects fireflies. He is nearing the last one when there is a sound.
"...Crowley?" The voice comes from the back of the cave as we swirl through the air. I don't recognize it, and neither does Crowley. He speeds up his collecting and rushes back to his body. "It… is Crowley right?" Crowley stands up and dusts himself off, looking into the darkness. A tall man comes out, thin and wiry. Brown-grey hair sits shaggily on his head and slowly runs down into a scruff of a beard. He looks old, older than most werewolves. And he is wearing flannel.
"Crowley, King of Hell? Saved the world? Friend of Sam and Dean?" Crowley is a bit surprised, but hides it as usual with fake feigned interest.
"And you are?"
"Damien. I was a hunter with them before I got bit." Oh. Ohhhhh. Garth.
"Ah, Damien. And you weren't out fighting here because?"
"I don't like to. Not often anway, besides I have my hands full."
"With what?" Damien swallows, but goes back into the darkness and there is whispering. Crowley puts his hands in his pockets and waits, head cocked, wondering what will happen, and if he's going to kill them too. Damien returns holding a small hand. Oh… a very small hand. Oh no. No.
The girl is young and wearing a pink dress, a very old style pink dress. Emperor cut, with lace. She is barefoot, and has a doll, as in two sticks tied together with hair and a piece of cloth wrapped around the bottom. Crowley raises a brow. Damien leads her forward.
"Lily, it's fine. There isn't anymore fighting, and this man, he won' hurt us." Oh...oh no. No. The girl is only seven, Crowley had no interest in such a soul, it had barely begun to find out who it was before it died...I hoped that still mattered for what he was doing… please let it still matter. Please.
"It doesn't." No. No. Please Crowley. Just...
"What?"
"Apologies, talking to a friend about what I'm going to do with you… I heard you had a family? Where are they?"
"They...uhm. They have a hiding place. I got caught by these guys."
"Really, do tell?"
"I was out on a walk, and they grabbed me from behind. Said they needed all the help they could get. Something was out here killing monsters en mass. I suppose that's you?"
"I suppose, you're right." Crowley says a bit mockingly and takes a step forward. Damian stands tall, unafraid, stupid. Run! No, don't run. Don't turn your back. Plead. Crowley, Crowley, what can they do to convince you to spare them? What can I do? Crowley?!
He doesn't answer.
"I jus don't see the point of the King of Hell doin this. Are you blowing off steam?"
"No, I'm acquiring it." Another step, and another.
"I...I don get it?"
"Really? It's been over 6 years and no one, not one of you, has noticed that the monsters I kill don't come back?" Damien freezes and pushes Lily behind him.
"Some of the pack hasn't come back yet...And that's because…"
"I got hooked on a new fad diet. All the rage in San Francisco." Damien finally starts to back away.
"Look. Take me. Not her. Let her go-"
"Why would I even consider doing that? With you two I have an even thirty. A well rounded meal that's so much easier to keep track of." Oh god Crowley, no. Not now. No word play now. Just stop. I'll. I'll void my contract, I'll-
"Because I can give you pack movements!" At this Crowley pauses. He stops and looks at Damien, waiting patiently. Damien swallows. "The werewolf packs migrate, just like regular wolves. They usually follow a pattern. I can tell you where they will be if you leave me and mine alone." Crowley. It'll speed up things. Make this easier. And you have to leave 10,000 anyway… protect this group and you'll have allies who can blend in with packs and send you fucking door dash.
"No." My heart sinks and Damien starts to growl, ready to go down fighting, give Lilly some time. "I'm the King of Hell, I require a bit more than that to spare a life. So... let's make our deal a bit more substantial." Oh thank fucking god. Damien relaxes, just a bit.
"I already have one werewolf working for me. Join us, pack Crowley, packs are named after the alpha, aren't they?" Damien nods slowly, warily. "Join pack Crowley and infiltrate other packs. Find them and start fights between packs and other monsters and I'll...do clean up."
"And in return?"
"In return you'll be the only pack left."
"...That's a lot of monsters to kill Crowley...years worth of work."
"Keep you from dying of boredom, or me. Pack Crowley offers other benefits too. However, you'll have to move."
"Why? And to where?"
"My base of operations here."
"You… you managed to build something?"
"No, it's just a location, but it is well protected. All of you will need to be approved by my partner of course." Damien is silent, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "If you don't, well, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.
"Go to jail…"
"Exactly. Deal?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"I love that answer."
A day later five werewolves and a demon walk up to a dragon's den in what must be a set up for a joke. Dragoness however, is nowhere to be seen. Bobby, Dan, and Bernard are sitting on stumps though. They stand as Crowley comes leading some fairly human and calm looking souls toward them. Crowley is Very concerned about that, what Bobby might have told them.
"What in the Hell-" Bobby does not get to finish that thought.
"Pack Crowley, meet your newest members."
"What? I ain't part of no fuckin Pack Crowley."
"You're right Robert, you are not. You're mine."
"Bobby?"
"Damien? What the Hell are you doin here?" Damien lets go of his wife's hand and rushes toward Bobby who braces for, but allows, the hug.
"I could say the same for you! C'mere you ol coot!" Bobby shrugs off the happy werewolf and holds him at arms length.
"Who you callin old you old dog! You look like you lasted longer'n me!"
"As touching as this reunion is, I-" There is a crashing sound as a tree nearby breaks. We had been hearing the sound for some time but not this close. Crowley frowns and looks to Bobby. "Tarrasque?"
"A what? No, the fucking dragon is clearing a place to land. She decided she was gettin tired of breaking trees every time she came back from stretchin' her wings."
"What?" Damien looks very confused. "I fought a dragon before but, that didn't have no fucking wings."
"Yeah well, there's some shit older'n shit in here."
"I do hope that delightful turn of phrase was referring to me Robert Singer." Dragoness comes into view pushing some rather large trees with her head.
"Mary mother of-"
"Holy Hell!"
"Run!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Damien's family has the most reasonable reaction to a dragon anyone could have, a few don't even say anything, they just turn to run...but Crowley snaps his fingers and they all freeze.
"She...is my partner. Dragoness, meet the newest members of Pack Crowley; aka my hunters and your story tellers."
"Delightful. I suppose you did not explain to them beforehand that I was, in fact, a dragon?"
"Must have slipped my mind."
"How wonderful. Worry not, werewolf flesh is stringy, and more importantly, I do not destroy souls for food as my friend does." She nods and Crowley releases the five werewolves.
"Like I said, perks. You want protection from other packs, when you're not working for me? Here, you now have a hovel to howl in and call your own." Damien blinks and looks at Dragoness. He looks like a deer in headlights.
"Hello hunter wolf, how long have you been in Purgatory?"
"At least a hundred years….I think. Don't really know."
"Long enough then. Sit, bring your family here."
"And I know you're not just gonna eat us cause…"
"I find that people have trouble telling me stories after I eat them. I tried it once, there was more screaming than story."
"As fascinating as this is… I believe we had an agreement?"
"Yes, but what did you find out, King of Hell?"
"That I cannot yet kill a tarassque." Dragoness blinks, and laughs.
"G'honnu is awake! Ah, I knew I heard his leaden feet!"
"That thing, has a name?" Yeah, I didn't think it was intelligent either Crowley.
"It has many, that is what we call it. But I suppose you want my help?" The bulk of the scaled behemoth in front of us vibrates as Dragoness purrs in pleasure. I can't imagine her scale, her sheer bulk, if she is as big as she says. But she could have been lying, of course she has no reason to, except it'd be amusing. Crowley looks up at the rumbling figure and nods.
"I had been considering that."
"Very well." Dragoness, stands and stretches, shaking herself, her loose skin wiggling and causing spines to move like a wave on her back. " First, let us find out if I destroy untainted souls."
"What is going on?!" The scene pauses as Damien steps back between his family and the rest of the group. He has been silent, taking in information, being stunned at the scene before him. "First you say you don't eat souls, then you say you're gonna find out if you can? That seems a bit contradictory to me here!"
"Not you son. Me." Damien looks at Bobby with shock as he stands, hands in pockets and a blank face that speaks of resignation.
"Why?"
Bobby shrugs.
"It was me or Cas, Damien. I figured I'd had a good run and Cas is a bit more useful than me right now, being able to, ya know, actually go to Earth."
"But Bobby I jes-" There is a snap and Bobby vanishes, shrinking to a white point of light. He floats towards Crowley and smoke pours out and grabs him, pulling him into his prison. Damien swallows his words as Crowley glances his way. Crowley turns his eyes Dragoness, eyes that are filled with anger and uncertainty.
"I don't want him telling anyone anything he shouldn't." The Dragoness grins.
"He won't. We made a deal, he and I, while you were gone." Crowley immediately perks up at this. He continues the conversation, casually as he painfully parses Bobby's soul to find the truth.
"Oh? Getting back into the business? Care to come back to work for me?"
"I believe my visage would scare most mortals from ever making a deal. Now... Try not to burn your tongue." She rears back her head and breathes out. The fire is still white, but it crackles with lightning just as it does every time she does this. She stops breathing but the fire remains in the air, shrinking into the glowing orb that is her soul... birthed from fire it appears, crackling and beautiful as ever. She reaches for it and holds it a moment before passing it to Crowley. It shrinks in her hand and with a push floats towards the King of Hell. He holds it, and nods to Dragoness.
"Bon' appetit." The Dragoness chuckles at the comment and his snark as he rushes out for the hundredth time these two days to pull his 'power booster' home.
"Balls." This indeed may hurt.
The fire seems to encompass half the space, despite its seeming infinite before. She burns brightly and his entire body seems to be immersed in magic. Crowley rushes to put himself between us and the fiery star but it's too late.
It burns, and it burns badly.
