Suspicions, Spirits, and Satanism Part 1: Suspense
A/N: Not the complete chapter, but writing an OC drained me so much that I dissolved into a pile of depressed goo before I could finish. So this is what I have so far…
"Satanists!" Crowley announced triumphantly, smacking his hands flat on the conference table. "A long underutilized resource."
Mudgett's jaw dropped, but he didn't object. He had been cheerfully informed by an imp on the way in that if he pulled another stunt like the one at the last meeting, he would serve as the appetizer of Crowley's next meal. No amount of support could save him from that grisly fate.
Predictably, it was the entitled imbecile Cain who began to protest. "You'd replace our best intelligence with a bunch of animal-sacrificing, children-molesting humans? They aren't even possessed when they commit their atrocities!"
The other demons in the room shuddered, as memories of what they'd heard about the Mcmartin ritual abuse case resurfaced. (1) It was generally agreed among demons that Satanists were extremely stupid; they couldn't think of any other explanation for the humans that willingly worshipped the entity that desired their destruction.
"They couldn't tell the difference between you and Lucifer," Damien agreed, yawning.
Crowley's smile was evil, and therefore unalarming. "That's rather the point, isn't it? We have an army up there, waiting to be given orders… and we never use it! Willing human servants can only ever be an asset to us… this is particularly evident when viewing our current circumstances."
Unfortunately, however convincing his words were, Crowley had been introducing too many changes to Hell, much too quickly. Demons, being naturally resentful and suspicious of change, could hardly be expected to embrace this logic readily. They glared at him, and it began to look as if he were going to be overthrown right then and there.
Damien wasn't stupid though, and knew Crowley was correct in what he said. Seeing an opportunity to diminish the King's standing while avoiding ill-conceived violence, he spoke. "Yes, our current circumstances… Unable to track the Winchester ourselves because of a botched deal with the enemy, we are reduced to relying on human help. Crowley is right in saying that Satanists are our only option. Surely his familiarity with the human psyche will be of great help to him when he recruits their assistance."
Crowley left Hell in disgrace. He was still King by name, but his outburst at the last meeting combined with Damien's skillful maneuvering made it look like he'd lost control. This was a problem, but not one he could deal with immediately.
He contained his frustration until he was safely out of earshot. "Damn it!"
OO
Castiel's eyes cleared once they left the Cornice of Envy, but he wasn't able to enjoy his restored sight for long. Thick, acrid smoke lay ahead, and it was sure to blind them when they entered into it.
"Does this ever bother you?" Dean asked, staring at in disbelief. "Nothing makes sense here. Whoever came up with this place must've been high."
"That is how I feel much of the time on Earth," Castiel replied.
OO
Molly Nolan pulled her windbreaker tighter around herself, teeth chattering as another brutally cold wind blasted at her back. She was beginning to regret her decision to hike to the local Grotto.
I should have worn something warmer, she thought miserably, fingering the crimson card in her pocket.
She also should have straightened her hair. The frizzy orange mass was being thrown every which way in the wind, mostly in her face. Her vision thus obstructed, she almost tripped over the small black poodle that was doggedly tailing the man ahead of her.
"Mephistopheles!" she laughed, bending down to stroke it. The man walking just ahead froze.
OO
"Sorry?" Crowley asked, looking quizzically down at the shivering girl. A poodle bounded away from her and to his side. "Did you say…?"
Pushing back a tangled mess of hair, the girl aimed a warm grin at him. "The dog following you. It reminded me of Faust."
"Oh. Right." he murmured, shaken. Noticing the dog for the first time, he kicked it away. (2) The girl's lips thinned in disapproval. He turned to continue trudging to the Church of Satan, but as he did his eye was caught by a familiar-looking pendant hanging from the girl's neck…
"That's a Baphomet sigil, if I'm not mistaken," he said, recovering his suavity.
Her hand flew to it, and she stood up slowly, her eyes narrowed. "Most people don't know that," she said suspiciously. "Does that mean you're…?"
"Not a Satanist, like yourself. No, something very different. I'm the King of Hell."
There was a long, dramatic pause, in which Crowley prepared to have his feet kissed, and Molly considered calling a mental hospital.
"You're joking," she said finally, with a slight, humorless laugh. "Asshole. I'm a LaVeyan Satanist, not a religious schizophrenic. You seriously think I believe the Devil is a physical entity?"
Crowley was confused. "It's true," he said, shrugging.
"But that's counterintuitive! The Devil is an emotional character representative of the carnal nature of humanity… nothing more."
OO
Dean's steady stream of complaints spluttered to a halt as they walked inside the choking fumes of Wrath. This was not meant in the metaphorical sense.
He couldn't breathe for coughing, and was getting vivid flashbacks to the time he'd gone after Pestilence. He'd have a heyday with this. He and Castiel could do no more than stumble through the evil fog, clutching each other's shoulders for fear of being separated. They were anyway.
Between the smoke and his eyes tearing up, Dean couldn't see anything, but he could certainly feel it when his feet were knocked out from under him, and Castiel was pulled away from him and farther into the smoke. Whatever it was seemed impervious to the smoke.
He could feel a force moving him, too… hurtling him to some unknown destination.
"Hold on, boy," a gruff voice said. Bobby's voice.
"SunuvaCOUGH!"
OO
God looked thoughtfully at the proton accelerator the children of men builded in Switzerland, and Contemplated. This He did for a long time. Finally, He spoke, as if to Himself.
"Behold, the people is one, and they have all one System; and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do."
He nodded self-satisfactorily. There was only one thing to do. He would Confound their System. (3)
OO
It took some massive evidence for Crowley to establish his credulity, but when he did, Molly was pissed. She had left the Mormon faith, over the concerned protests of her parents, and invested 200 dollars in a philosophy which turned out to be founded on… well, nothing. It was irksome, to say the least.
And it looked like she was going to Hell for it, too. She should have become a Catholic.
Crowley had already spoken of his need for an intermediary between the forces of Hell and God, and his need for someone qualified to track down the whereabouts of an elusive heavenly agent named Samuel Winchester. Unfortunately, she was qualified. He had also insinuated that she had no choice in the matter, that she was already irrevocably bound to the Forces of Darkness. As an individualist and firm believer in free will, this didn't sit well with her.
"Hold on. You don't expect me to just play along without a quid pro quo, do you? What's in it for me?" I don't want to go to Hell, she thought desperately.
Crowley spread his hands before him. "What do you want? Your wish… is my command."
"All right." She remembered Faust again, and decided to make a reverse-bargain. Goethe be damned, she knew bad things would happen if she asked to live forever. "How about this: I follow your orders while I'm alive, but after I die, you keep your paws of my… soul. I don't fall under Hell's jurisdiction."
Crowley raised his eyebrows. This had to be the worst request he'd ever heard. "I guarantee, Miss… no one's going to be lining up for your meager soul . Very well. Wish granted. Samuel Winchester's last known location was…"
OO
Turned out the smoke wasn't all-encompassing. There were actually a few clear regions to be found on the Cornice, and it was to one of these that Bobby brought them, using his now well-honed ghost powers.
"Damn, Bobby, they just can't keep you down, can they," Dean breathed, grinning. Castiel's gaze was more penetrating, full of poorly-disguised curiosity. Bobby avoided his eyes and turned to Dean.
"That's the thing, now, innit," Bobby said. "I guess ghosts go same place every other monster does when it dies. Doesn't explain why you're here, though. Don't tell me…" the older hunter's translucent shoulders tensed, and he gave Dean a scathing look.
"Naw, we didn't come here on purpose," Dean said. "We think it had something to do with ganking Dick… we were sucked into a vacuum, or something."
Bobby visibly relaxed. "Nice to know that bastard's dead and buried… just hope he didn't end up anywhere nearby. How long have you been here, anyway? I only just found you in the smoke, it cant've been long ago."
Dean's eyebrows drew together, but as he opened his mouth to answer, Castiel touched him on the shoulder, shaking his head.
"'Scuse us," Dean said, rolling his eyes before drawing Castiel away.
"What's your problem?" He asked in an undertone. "Why didn't you want me to answer?"
"Something's off," Castiel said. "It seems Bobby doesn't know about any other part of Purgatory than this place."
"Why not tell him, then? We can escape together."
"It's not that simple, Dean. He's dead. Do you really want to bring him back? Again? And I feel as if… I feel as if he's keeping something from us. I don't know what, or why."
Dean's fists clenched. "He's our friend, Cas. Have you forgotten that? He's stuck in this place same as we are… he should be in Heaven, sure, but he doesn't belong here."
"Dean."
"I don't wanna hear it. We are not going to just leave him behind! That's what you're saying, isn't it?"
"He didn't seem normal_"
"Like you'd know the difference!"
A few feet away, Bobby's eyes glowed scarlet.
The denizens of Hell are sadly misinformed about most things. For instance, they actually don't know how the trial ended.
Crowley likes hellhounds. Not weak little Earth-dogs. And the only way to establish a villain is to have them kick a puppy, right?
See Genesis 11: 1-9
A/N: I keep on hearing that this story is "interesting." The frequency with which I'm seeing the word is alarming… is it a good or a bad thing?